Poison Kissed (11 page)

Vincent’s saying something about Diamond. “. . . at the docks, midnight. They’ve got some kinda cargo coming in, all secret-like.”

Delilah frowns. “How d’you know that?”

“I just know.” Vincent reaches for more oysters, and Iridium snatches them away, greedy eyes glinting.

Joey licks the air, suspicious. He’s heard the same rumor—that dusky bronze earthfae girl last night sold him a lot of gossip—but Vincent is up to something. “What’s the score?”

“Who knows? One way to find out.”

“Sounds fair.” Delilah slurps up one last piece of tomato. “We owe Diamond a surprise or two. Let’s crash their party.”

Diamond’s insults to Mina still sting bitter in Joey’s mouth. Screw it. He nods. “Agree. Let’s do it. Midnight. Come set for a scrap. If there’s score in it, we take it. If they snark us, we fight. Otherwise, it’s watch and wait. Anyone got a problem with that?”

“I say we kill ’em all.” Iridium shrugs, crooked and matter-of-fact, and licks oyster juice from rusty claws. “Diamond, Sonny, whoever. They started it; we finish it.”

Joey hisses a snaky laugh. “Are you fucking crazy? You think that’s all Ange’s got? Kane will come down on you so hard, your sick fairy ass’ll be tinfoil.”

“Maybe. And maybe if you’d let me in on last night instead of thinking with your hard-on, Sonny’d be dead already, instead of just pissed off and chasing your ass.” Iridium’s mismatched gaze is mild, but Joey’s reptile senses can taste sour, desperate rebellion on the fairy’s rusty breath.

Anger flushes him, dark and rich with disgust, not because Iridium’s lust for blood sickens him, but because he understands Iridium’s pain.

Sometimes the beast inside just gets too much for you.

Black snakemuscle clenches rigid beneath his skin, and he inhales sharply.
Don’t shift. Too many people. Just keep it quiet.
He slides out a lazy half inch of claw, deceptively calm. “This is my outfit, last I looked. We do things my way.”

Delilah’s eyebrows arch in amusement. Vincent scowls. And Iridium just grins, lopsided metal teeth shining, and shrugs rusty wings, defiant. “Maybe your way ain’t working so well anymore.”

Joey flashes to his feet and crushes blackened fingers into Iridium’s scrawny gray collarbone, snapping his teeth within an inch of the fairy’s razor-pointed ear. He whispers so the whole café won’t hear, but venomgreen spit flecks the fairy’s cheek from his hiss. “You work for me, understand? You do what I want, when I want it. Slaughter at random, and Kane’ll come after us all.”

“You afraid?” Iridium’s voice slides husky and thick with challenge, and the pulse in his crippled shoulder quickens under Joey’s palm.

Relish for the fight washes cool snakeblood into Joey’s veins, and he grins. “Just happy to be alive. You will not indulge your twisted metal-ass urges on my watch, get me? Keep a fucking lid on it, Iridium, or I’ll jam one on it for you.” Joey shoves away and glares a challenge at Vincent, who eyes him sullenly in a froth of sweat. “Midnight, the docks. Don’t be late.” And Joey spins around before he can sprout angry fangs and fill Iridium’s hellcrossed eyeballs with venom.

Furniture clatters aside as he stalks out, sun glaring in his eyes. He strides along the riverbank, crowds melting around him, and reaches for his phone. Gulls screech overhead as it rings. Still no answer.

Sun flashes on the screen as he checks the time. It isn’t far to her place, down by Albert Park where the sun shines on greener water and the wide grass shoulder at the lake’s edge withers in the heat. It won’t hurt to check on her. Maybe the grubby little memoryscrape maggot has hurt her.

Best to be sure.

Of course, it’s possible she’s just in bed with said maggot. Sliding her sweet body over his. Enjoying a lazy morning of sparkle and screwing.

Venom drenches his mouth, and he wants to spit it out, but he swallows, hard, acid burning his throat. Or maybe she’s finally split on him. Deserted. Defected to the other side. Not coming back.

Joey flips his phone away and heads westward toward her place, tossing his cane from hand to twitching hand. Either way, better to see the fuckover coming.

9

“Mina, wake up.”

Hands fumbled with my hair. Gentle warm lips caressed mine, menthol and spice, and in fevered darkness I jerked away, whimpering.
No more monsters. I’ll be a good girl. I promise.

Strong hands on my shoulders forced me still. I struggled, fear stiffening my joints. Trapping or protecting me?

“Peace. You’re okay. Wake up.” Urgency roughened that familiar voice.

Limbs warm and hard beneath me, the air a cool sigh on my fevered skin. I inhaled, and comforting mint freshness pierced the fog.

My pulse calmed, and I buried my face in his shirt, inhaling safety and warmth. Fabric slid cool and smooth on my cheek. Nightmares still blotted my vision, black and stung with scarlet halos. Pain throbbed deep in my skull, a ragged knifewound.

God, what a horrible dream.

Random sensation scattered in my mind like smashed glass, spinning out of sight too soon. Vincent, trying to kiss me, his musky male perfume. Diamond’s icy laughter, his fingers sliding smooth and alien on my shoulder. Cobalt, black wings like velvet on the dim back stairs at the Court, his long white hand warm in mine as we sprinted laughing across a traffic-bright street.

Nothing after that.
Did it work? Did we see anything?

“Open your eyes. Come on. Stay with me.” Joey’s voice sounded muffled, dull, like I’d stuffed my ears with mud. His cool hands slid around my aching head, lifting me, unsticking the hair from my cheek. It felt so nice. I wanted to curl up on his lap and purr. I licked my parched lips, and his taste lingered, burning cold.

God, how embarrassing. Better get up, before he sees how weak I am.

But weird liquid confusion sloshed in my brain, mixing up with down, right with left until the world spun dizzy. My guts hurt, and someone had attacked my sinuses with red-hot sandpaper. Christ, we must have hit it hard last night.

I swallowed on crumpled razors, and my voice struggled out in a croak. “Where are we?”

“Your place. It’s late. I wondered about you.” His voice relaxed, a release of tension. A sigh. Like he’d really worried if I’d be alive.

“Why? Did I . . . oh.” Now I remembered Cobalt, dragging through my memories, the dusty midnight scent of his hair, his body lithe and hot against me. . . .

Shit.

My cheeks scorched as I remembered undressing him, kissing, easing his twisted fairy cock inside me so he could dig deeper. I remembered him begging me not to, dragging his mouth away from mine, his inky blue tears staining my chest. Cobalt was my friend, and I’d used him like a whore.

I shoved the horrid images away. Did we make it as far as the murder scene? I couldn’t remember. I didn’t care. I just wanted to sleep. In Joey’s lap. Forever, while he stroked my hair and kissed me and whispered gentle words in my ear.

Sharp, hateful memory niggled at the edges of my mind, but I ignored it. Joey didn’t like me memoryscraping. Soon I’d get a vile piece of his mind, but I didn’t want the nice part to end, no matter how my head hurt and my stomach ripped and my muscles ran to water.

I forced gritty eyes open. Harsh late afternoon sun spilled in my windows. I’d slept all day. Shit. My guts coiled slick like a worm, and I rolled onto my side, groaning and clutching myself. Sparkle hangover. Something else he could scold me for.

“Sorry,” I rasped. “I must’ve . . . um . . . passed out. Did I miss breakfast? I’ll—”

“You’re okay. Never mind that.” Joey’s palm slipped down my spine, soothing, enticing on my bare back, his clawtip’s secret sting faint and pleasant.

I sighed, shivering at the care in his touch, but strange unease twinged, too. My stomach bloated warm under my hands, my skin clammy with fever. . . .

Holy fuck-a-peacock. I’m naked.

My skin sprang tight.

Was he watching me? Examining my body with those secretive, give-away-nothing eyes? Did he like it?

A shudder pleasured me despite my headache. My nipples hurt, and it wasn’t only embarrassment that swelled hot and hard in my belly. I felt every little intake of his breath, each sweep of his gaze like warmed honey running over my skin.

Naked, in Joey’s arms. Days had started a lot worse than this.

Melting contentment drowned me, dizzy, and erotic images flowed hot. I wanted to slide my hands under his clothes, feel his skin on mine. I wanted him to ease my thighs apart and lick me, slide his tongue over me, into me, tease my pleasure deep. See if he couldn’t make my sickness go away.

My skin burned afresh. His touch drifted to my hip, and with a tiny thrill, I felt his hand
shift
. Muscles straining, bones moving, skin shivering and stretching. His touch heated with the effort, and now his slick webs glided on my skin, warm and wet and delicious.

Sensation scorched deeper, dangerous, and my desire responded, spreading delight over my pain. What would he feel like, if he changed? Those sinuous muscles, that tempting black skin on mine?

Warm and amorous like a cat in the sun, I arched my spine with a pleasured sigh and gazed sleepily up into his eyes. So beautiful, so hot, absinthe green with a dark sparkle of desire. That crushable blond hair tumbling softly on his cheek.

In my mind, wet black webs wrapped around a pistol grip.

Shock squeezed my heart cold.

My reflexes jerked, and I scrambled to my feet.

I backed away, stumbling, swamped by a landslide of jagged images that scraped my tender skull raw.

Joey killed my mother. I saw it. And he just touched me. Caressed me hot. Kissed my lips while I slept. Chased away my nightmare, only to take its place.

My mind screamed, the echo lost down a bottomless well of despair.

My pulse raced. It couldn’t be. Cobalt made it up, his twisted fairy brain plotting against me. Or I dreamed of Joey while I fucked him, his touch and his wicked spell unearthing my deepest fantasies to mingle with those blood-scraped memories.

It couldn’t be true.

Could it?

Joey stared back at me, a dark blot on my pale suede.

For an instant, pain swirled amberlight in his eyes.

And then he swallowed, and softly folded his fingerwebs away, and his composure crystallized once more. His jaw firmed, his face perfect and unyielding. Not a hair or a spine out of place. Distant. Icy. Unbreakable.

I clutched shaking arms around my waist, my gaze flitting, anywhere but on his. My hair spilled crisp and blue over my breasts, and I was desperately glad for the covering. My nipples still scrunched tight, my skin flushed and damp as if I’d wanted what he was doing.

As if I liked him staring at me like that.

But he could still see the rest of me, the bruises on my hips, my thighs, the hair between my legs sticky and unwashed from sex.

I didn’t know where to put my hands. I wanted the air to swallow me, make me invisible, get his unrelenting gaze off me.

“You okay?” Cold, disinterested, like he didn’t give a shit.

“Umm . . . yeah. I’m fine.” I gulped, and scrambled on the floor for my clothes. My inner ears sloshed, confused, and I teetered in my haste, carpet scraping my knees.

“You sure? You were out cold.”

“Uh-huh.” I found my crumpled pants, but I didn’t know which way to face so he wouldn’t cop an eyeful. In the end, I gave up and just dragged them on. My flesh still burned under his gaze, and I tripped, my damp feet catching in the leather. He still hadn’t looked away. God knew what the bastard was thinking, why he thought I’d jumped away like that. He’d no reason to suspect I’d found him out.

Urgency nipped at my toes like vicious crabs. I needed to call Cobalt, ask him what the fuck happened. Maybe he had a simple answer, an explanation that made everything okay.

Maybe my life hadn’t just exploded in a screaming bonfire.

At last Joey dropped his gaze, reached to the floor for his cane, and held it before him in both hands, a shield. His fingertips silently tapped the lacquer, my blocked ears unable to detect the minute sound. “I need you tonight, then. Wanna get some snark back on your glassfae pal?”

“Sure.” I buckled my pants, and even that fat metal click was dull, the leathery slide muffled.

My toes curled tight. Where were my ears? My music? My rippling harmonics, always shifting and warping with the tiniest movement? His voice chimed dull and distant. My ears felt stuffed with clay, and the loudest sound was my own skipping heartbeat.

Nerves chewed under my skin like ants. How was I supposed to fight if I couldn’t hear them coming?

“Diamond and Sonny are running a show at the docks, midnight.”

“Uh-huh.” I scrabbled for my bodice, ripping my hair and hacking my fingers bloody on the zipper as I tried to pull it up. At last the black leather encased my aching body, tight and supportive, but I felt no safety in it anymore. Instead, it threatened, menaced, squeezed my breath away.

Joey’s gaze stayed fixed on the floor a few inches from my feet. “Some cargo they don’t want us to see. I want it, and I want you there.” His fingers drummed on the cane, silent. Tap, tap, tap, tap, empty like a muted television. Over and over. No sound.

I yanked my boots on. “Sure. Uh-huh. No problem.”

“Okay, then.” He hesitated. “Business down at Southbank first. Have to make an appearance for an old family friend. Paella or tapas or some fucking Spanish thing. Want to come?”

Unwilling, my head snapped up, right into the arc of his lasergreen gaze. He never asked me what I wanted. What the hell kind of question was that?

He stared back, composed as ever. Like I hadn’t just lain naked in his arms.

Bitter bile crawled up my throat at the memory of his caress, his hand’s tempting heat on my spine. The way he’d touched me, comforted me, hesitant like he’d wanted to touch me more but didn’t dare. I swallowed. Was he asking me out?

Warmth spread in my belly, but this time it smelled ripe and bloody of vengeance, and deep inside me some hot, salty creature squirmed and bit.

I could go to him. Push him back on the sofa, climb onto him and tease him with my body. Drug him half-senseless with my poisoned kiss, toy with him until he was weak, breathless, helpless as he’d made me after so many years of lies. And then I’d grab my knife and slit his lying throat, and it’d be done.

Spiky melodic magic fought like hacking goblins in my chest, longing to escape.

But it wouldn’t come out.

My larynx wheezed, sticky and swollen with some rabid infection. My precious song, ripped to ribbons on sparkle and memoryscrape.

My voice was ruined, my ears shot. My reflexes dull and distant. My limbs reluctant. And my knives sat harmless on the kitchen table in my jacket, where I’d left them last night. Joey was cautious, but he wasn’t clumsy or slow. He’d have me bleeding on my back beneath him before I got within six feet of them.

Cold granite reality ground ragged holes in my spirit. I’d failed. After seven long years, I finally faced the man who killed my mother, and I was weaponless. Weak.

Scared, like a little girl.

Not how I’d imagined this moment.

I tried to swallow, but choked on bitter phlegm. If I didn’t go with him, he’d surely be convinced I was the traitor, off to tell Diamond everything. He’d come after me, and kill me, and in this state I couldn’t take him on.

But I couldn’t face another second of that relentless reptile gaze.

I hitched in a painful shallow breath and backed off toward the door. “Um, no, look, I’ve got stuff to do. Won’t take a few min—I mean, an hour or two. I’ll see you down at the pier. Really. I promise.” Words tumbled, and I bit my tongue before I could ramble any more.

Joey shrugged. “Tomorrow night, then.”

Fuck. I stumbled on my heels. My feet tangled together, and I clutched the doorframe behind my back for balance. “Sure. Okay. Um . . . bye.”

And I bolted into the corridor on unsteady legs, my heartbeat deafening me.

Her sharp footsteps fade. Joey wraps tense fingers around his cane, his knuckles stinging. It’s done. The lies sown, the trick set in motion. What happens tonight will show him if she’s true. She’s probably on her way to Diamond already, to plot a countermove.

But already guilt sours his mouth, the sickening stink of his own unspoken lies. He can’t abide treachery. Not telling her everything tastes foul.

And already the room is duller without her, the sunlight harsher, her jasmine scent fainter until he can barely smell her at all. Still her jewelbright skin tingles his fingertips, the bitter sparkle taste of her lips a ghost he can’t exorcise.

For a moment, when he first saw her lying there, he thought her dead, her beauty undiminished, and jagged dread slashed his heart.

Such a lovely, hot-blooded, sensual woman. His cold snakeskin writhes inside, pleading for her glorious warmth, and he jerks to his feet and paces the carpeted floor in hot sunlit streaks. That inkblue fairy’s dusty skinscent reeked from her, his glitterspiked fluid still bright between her thighs, and even the memory splits angry fangs through Joey’s gums, itching to kill.

It makes him want to laugh. Envy is such a pitiful emotion.

But her reaction still burns him, the way she shuddered and sprang away at the touch of his webbed fingers. His black reptile skin disgusts her. He disgusts her. There’s no other explanation.

He should never have touched her. But he couldn’t help it, couldn’t resist the lure of her scent, the sweet vibration of her movement, the taste of her breath on the ultrasensitive tips of his reptile tongue.

Not to mention she was naked.

Unexpectedly, gloriously naked, tangled blue hair trailing over her skin, long limbs shining, breasts pure and beautiful in dappled sunlight. Soft sapphire hair between her legs, short and neat and so faint, barely covering the luscious fragrant shapes of her sex, just begging for the invasion of his tongue. A hot-blooded goddess, sultry and seductive in her sleep. Sweet death, he’d wanted to taste her, lick her, inhale the maddening jasmine scent of her, all sweat and sex and soft feminine flesh and fuck it all, if he keeps thinking like this, he’ll be dead by week’s end.