On Wicked Ground (Solsti Prophecy Book 4) (4 page)

“Nice work, men.” She smiled. “Now, let’s find the two pathetic creatures who used to live here.”

C
HAPTER
T
HREE

C
AINE
MADE
HIS
WAY
THROUGH
the crowded club, shouldering into the pulsing mix of creatures giddy with hormones or throwing off territorial vibes. Half the creatures on Torth were looking to scratch their seasonal itch. The rest were happy to oblige, or take advantage, whichever the case may be. A deep bass rhythm thudded through the dark space. Colored beams of light flashed across the dancers, but it was an entertainment affect, nothing more. Most species could see fine in the dark.

Two pretty female wood nymphs grabbed him, one on each arm. “Dance with us!” they cooed in unison, full breasts threatening to spill over the confines of their barely-there leaf dresses.

His jaw tensed as he glanced down at them. This was his fertile time of year too, and all the sexual energy in the club affected him just like everyone else. His eyes tracked the ripe curves of their tits, and their wicked lips that promised hours of pleasure, but he shoved the thoughts to the back of his mind. Reeking of sex, the little females had probably screwed most of the males in the bar. Sloppy seconds weren’t his thing, plus, he was on the job. “Another time, ladies.”

Tiny hands grazed down his arms and a round of pouting ensued, but he walked away. The two couldn’t compete with a certain tiny blonde who’d worked her way under his skin with just a few words and a crazy-ass escape plan. Whom he had no way to contact. Hell, he didn’t even know her name, but her scent and the image of her tight little body were branded into his senses.

He shook his head and stalked toward the bar, assessing the room. A band of dark elves occupied one corner of the room. Leering, joking, and parading like kings, they downed drinks and beckoned to females.

Trouble was brewing between this group and another, who apparently hadn’t made an appearance yet. Normally, the Lash Watchers didn’t get involved with skirmishes within species. But the dark elves had started using magic they shouldn’t be able to have. His leader, Arawn, had tasked him with observing them and stopping them if necessary.

Caine kept his expression neutral and pushed through the last layers of creatures around the bar. Setting his hands on the worn wooden surface, he signaled the Deserati demon bartender and ordered a beer. He was working, but he still needed to blend in.

He took a sip, savoring the bitter taste sliding down his throat, and refocused on the room. Music pounded, and the voices of creatures celebrating or arguing flitted past his ears, punctuated by the occasional orgasmic shriek. Yeah, some of them didn’t wait to get a room.

A commotion near the front drew his attention, and he swiveled to see the second gang of elves enter. They spotted their rivals immediately, and three of the bigger elves cleared an area off to the side. A sea of dark scowls, they settled around a cluster of tall tables, weapons catching the colored lights.

Caine shifted his gaze to the first group, who smirk-stared as if they were unimpressed, then went back to their pompous-ass behavior. Caine settled in. He could wait all night. But he wasn’t letting these groups start a fight that would incur casualties. Plus, he wanted to observe the magic reportedly held by the first group—

A delicate scent teased Caine’s nose, stilling every muscle.
Moonflower
. It curled into his body, wakening memories he’d thought had been easily dismissed.

He was wrong.

In his mind’s eye he saw her. Clingy black dress, and blond hair, short but with longer front layers framing her face. Beguiling green eyes that a few days ago had almost taken him away from his post.

She’s here?
Cain inhaled deeply, trying to pinpoint her location. At the same time his ears strained for the sound of her voice, girlish yet smooth as sugar.

Her scent intensified on his right and he turned only to see…nothing. Had she darted by on her way to the back? Perhaps the restroom? All he saw were the same drunk dancers. He frowned. Moonflower fragrance swirled, heady and enticing and ramping his banked lust into overdrive. His cock stirred, reminding him he hadn’t gotten laid in…well, not since before he’d encountered
her
. This night just got a lot more interesting.

But not easy. His muscles itched to find her. She’d been desperate to leave the lavish party where they’d met, and he had no idea why. Determination surged in his blood as his inner beast decided its new personal mission would be to find her, then find out everything about her. Including how good she tasted. A feral growl rumbled low in his throat.

He turned slowly, scanning, eyes landing on the mob of bodies gyrating on the big dance floor. People moved so quickly it was hard to track—for most. Caine’s eyes would remember every detail he saw tonight. He stared at a group of female nymphs, giggling and grinding with drinks in hand. They all had some kind of tiny purses worn across their bodies, just big enough for lipstick and condoms.

Curiosity made the hair on his arms stand on end. As he stared, the flap on one nymph’s purse opened. Darkness seemed to close in behind the nymph. It was hard to see her, and it shouldn’t be, thanks to his enhanced night vision. No, this was more like something was obscuring the petite female. Then a wad of money…
floated
out of the purse?

What the fuck? The cash disappeared into the darkness behind the nymph, and suddenly the nymph’s curvy body was clearly visible. No more nebulous dark spot. It all happened in the wink of an eye.

Caine stared hard at the giggling group. No other purses had money levitating out of them. He knew that pickpockets and petty criminals hung out here. They hung out everywhere there was money and valuables to be taken. But invisibility spells were rare and pricey.

No, not invisible. The creature had a dark, shadowy shape. Caine blew out a breath. He inhaled and once again, moonflower caressed his skin. He turned to one side. Then his jaw dropped.

The shadowy figure moved along the wall, barely discernible. Black-on-black, but slowly changing to a small humanoid form. A group of fairies partially obscured the creature as it sidled between them and the wall, but Caine tracked it like prey, never losing the visual connection. With each step, more of the darkness fell away, revealing… 

Her
. Tiny, probably five feet tall, clad in dangerous heels, black leather pants, and a black bustier, she sauntered like she belonged there. One sexy-booted footstep after the other brought her closer to the elf tables. She smoothed her hands over her pixie cut hair, tucking one long lock of bangs behind her ear. Which wasn’t pointed.

Odd. Because of her size, he’d assumed she was one of the fae—but most of them had pointed ears. Maybe a hybrid?

One of the dark elves came up close behind her, leaning down, lips moving near her ear. Caine’s anger rose out of nowhere, hot and unreasonable. What the hell? Thank the gods, she brushed him off and started to move away.

The elf grabbed her arm, dirty claws tightening their hold. Caine was on his feet, moving toward them, when the little female smiled. But it wasn’t a flirty smile—it was a
you-asked-for-it
smile. Pressing her free hand to his grubby arm, she smirked and batted her eyes.

The creature swore and let go, clutching his arm, calling her every name for female anatomy that Caine had ever heard. No one else in the crowd seemed to notice the little disturbance.

She raised an eyebrow. “That’s the best you can do, asshole? Next time, find a dirty she-elf to paw.” Spinning on one stiletto heel, she whirled away—and nearly ran into Caine. Her eyes tracked up from his waist to his face, and her jaw dropped.

Alina’s breath caught in her throat as she looked up into dark eyes she’d only glimpsed for a minute, but could never forget. The Watcher from her latest job. Thick dark hair tumbled down around his biceps, which looked as big as boulders the way he had his arms folded. His black T-shirt strained across wide shoulders, and his chest was clearly defined, pushing the fabric. He exuded fierceness, danger, and…amusement?

His eyes twinkled. What the hell? None of this was funny. Dark elves were disgusting, and she thanked her dad for every trick and dirty fight move he’d taught her.

But the man before her now was a million miles from disgusting. She’d seen him once before, at a party where he was probably doing official Lash Watcher business. All she’d cared about was getting what she came for, and getting out. They’d exchanged a few words, which definitely couldn’t be called pleasantries, and she’d fled.

Why was he here now? She smirked, remembering the time of year. Maybe he wanted female company? Then why was he looking at her—

“What’d you give him?” His deep voice rumbled over the pounding bass and he nodded in the direction the elf had skulked off to.

“What?” she asked, startled, moving her ring hand behind her back.

“Oh come on. You’re not the first female to have a dart ring for protection. Which is a good idea during the fertile seasons.” He took a step closer. “What was in it? Hexweed?”

She sighed. Fine. Maybe if she threw him a bone he’d go away. “Poison widow.” The weed caused a throbbing pain, followed by crazy itching. It was easy to treat, if you had the right spell or anti-itch medication close by. If not, you suffered until you did.

He nodded. “Good one.” Those dark eyes swept up and down her body as if memorizing her.

Alina shifted under his intense gaze. On some level she couldn’t explain, she didn’t feel threatened. It didn’t make sense—he probably outweighed her by over a hundred pounds. He was a trained fighter, as all Watchers were. She should walk away, she really should.

“We’ve met before.” It wasn’t a question. His gaze lingered at the center lacing of her bustier.

“I don’t think so.” She took a step back. Threat or no threat, she was on the job tonight. And maybe this guy wasn’t here to check for pickpockets, but she didn’t need his attention. She and Sebastian did, however, need money. At this moment her dad was across town, working one of the packed solstice celebrations that happened bi-annually in Halice.

“I know so.” The Watcher closed in. “I never forget a face.”

Something about the way he said that struck her as odd. He wasn’t flirting, rather stating a fact. “Um, okay. That’s great, if you think we met. But I was just leaving.” If she took one more step back, she’d be on the dance floor.

“No, you’re not. You just got here.”

She scrunched her nose. “How do you know?”

“Your scent all but announced you.” He leaned down. “It’s unique.”

His breath skated over her ear and she swallowed hard. “Oh.” Damn. She shouldn’t be talking to him, shouldn’t be this close to him. She needed to lift some more money or jewelry and get out. She needed—

“I saw what you did.” He stepped closer, and her options were either back up into the dancing crowd, or press her lips to his pecs.

She backed up, and his warm hand went to her waist.

Shit, had he seen her take the nymph’s money? She avoided his eyes, because they saw too much and she didn’t want to discuss her cloaking ability “Like you said—a girl’s gotta protect herself.” The words came out too fast, betraying her flustered nerves. “Yep. Poison widow, always keep some on hand—”

“Not that.” In a smooth motion, he turned her and tucked her close, navigating the horde. Creatures took one glance at him and stepped back, giving them a wide berth. Dammit.

The need to leave crashed over her and she glanced around for the exits. His hand slid over her arm, gripping her wrist firmly. Her ring wouldn’t help if she couldn’t move her arm.

“You and I need to talk.” They were almost across the floor now, and he moved them toward a hallway lined with alcoves. Farther down there were rooms to be had, paid by the hour, but some creatures didn’t make it that far. An alcove with a curtain was enough privacy for some.

He wasn’t planning
that?
Panic flared. He wouldn’t. Watchers were honorable, or so she’d heard. Plus, they usually had wenches hanging all over them. They didn’t have to seek out pleasure, let alone force a female. She tugged her free arm away from him, keeping it at her side where she had a small dagger hidden in the boning of her bustier. It wouldn’t do much against a man his size, but it would buy her time.

He must have sensed her trepidation. “Don’t worry, fae. I said talk. I mean
talk
.” A slow, crooked grin curved his lips. “Unless you’d like to do something else?”

Oh my gods.
“I don’t want to talk to you.”

He slid a wicked glance to her. “I guess it’s something else, then.”

“No.” She tried to pull her other arm free, but it was like trying to move a tree. They entered the hall and passed the first several alcoves. Moans and grunts came from the dark spaces, where some of the couples had drawn the curtains and some hadn’t bothered. Alina kept her eyes on the baseboard, not needing to see any creatures in the throes of meaningless sex.

The only unoccupied alcove had no curtain left, as it turned out. It hung in shreds from a wooden pole across the entrance. The Watcher eyed it as he tugged her inside. “Looks like someone found a way to get creative with that.”

Once inside, he let go of her. Alina crossed the space, which was like a round closet, maybe six feet across. One fire bulb hovered near the shredded curtain and a wooden bench was pushed against one wall. She couldn’t hide her grossed out feeling at the thought of how much DNA was probably on that thing.

More creatures walked by. Disgruntled murmurs abounded as they found all the alcoves occupied, clamoring for a place to go and rut like animals. “Hey, if you’re not using this, get the hell out!” some yelled.

The Watcher ignored them and prowled closer. He was backing her up—again. “I won’t touch you unless you try to leave,” he said, and she knew he spoke the truth. “I want to talk to you.”