The Becoming Trilogy Box Set (Books 1-3) (91 page)

Madden twitched at her side.
His hand reached towards her and tugged the dress off her shoulder to expose
the small Celtic triskele inked there. She cut him a look, but let it be. The
Doc was nervous and he’d been fiddling with her appearance since they’d set
off.

Ash sighed. ‘Remind me why I
need to dress like a hooker to meet a celibate monk?’

Madden’s lips tightened into
a thin line. ‘I was going for edgy. The Master surrounds himself with a certain
type of people. If you can’t get past them, you won’t stand a chance of an
audience with him. You need to convince them you’re like them.’

She raised a brow, looking
down at her outfit. ‘Slappers in too-tight dresses?’ she asked sweetly.

Madden scowled at her,
unamused. ‘A heathen,’ he said. ‘In tune with the old religion.’

‘I have studied Celtic
mythology,’ she reminded him.

His face broadcasted his
doubt. ‘If I’d had more time to prepare you-’ He shook his head, ‘-you’ll have
to do.’ He took her elbow to lead her around a group of people stood staring at
a fold-out map and she had flashbacks to their first outing. God, how things
had changed.

She quickened her steps,
frowning. ‘You’re not coming in with me, are you?’

‘I wish I could,’ he said, ‘
but I’ve broken just about every oath I ever made with them. They’d kill me on
sight.’

Well, that’s reassuring.
Ash rolled her eyes and followed.

'The less you mention me, or
Connal Savage, the more information you’re liable to extract from him. Stick to
what we talked about.’

He led her through the warren
of medieval streets, only slowing on approach to a small shop nestled in the
cleavage of some boho-retro stores.

The sign over the door
announced it to be, ‘Trí Dée Dána’.

Ash tilted her head. ‘Is this
it? What does the name mean?’ It looked familiar.

‘Death to all who enter
here.’

She glared at him.

‘It’s Gaelic. The Trí Dée
Dána,’ he pronounced it
tree day dawna,
‘are the three crafty gods of
the Tuatha Dé Danann.’

She silently vowed to get
Connal to teach her Gaelic, but at least she knew why the name looked familiar.
Ash peered in the shop window at the Celtic metalwork, jewellery and
sculptures. ‘Very crafty,’ she observed, ‘but I’m guessing there’s a
double-entendre?’

‘Dána also means ‘bad’ in
Gaelic,’ Madden warned. ‘These guys are adept at mind-manipulation. They take
pleasure in messing with your head. Please be careful.’

Like he had to tell her that.
She nodded. ‘I will. How do I recognise the Master?’ she asked.

‘He changes his appearance a
lot. Just ask for the Governor. You’ll know when you meet him.’

‘Sounds ominous.’

‘I’ll be waiting for you at
The Winding Stair. It’s the bookshop over the bridge, on the quays.’

‘Wish me luck, Doc,’ she
smiled and the bell tinkled as she pushed the door open and stepped inside. ‘I
have a feeling I’m going to need it.’

The store was small and
broken into two halves. One half was a mess of statues on plinths and
merchandise cases glittering with silver jewellery. The other half was a
sterile black section broken up by a leather reclining chair, beanbags and a
massage table. Dividing screens were scrunched against the walls. A low buzz
sounded from behind one partition, and the scent of chocolate and coffee beans
teased her nose. She inhaled again. It was a good smell.

Hidden amidst the clutter,
she spotted someone lounging in a beanbag chair. Only long, pants-encased legs
ending in green boots were visible from where she stood.

Before she had a chance to
investigate the owner of the legs, her head bumped into something low-hanging.
Craning her neck, she came face to face with the thick tread of a boot. Ash
took a step back. It wasn’t a dismembered limb at least. The rest of the body
was perched inside a hanging cage. Spiked brown hair stuck straight up and
green eyes glinted down at her from a masculine face that was pretty to the
extreme.

He grinned at her, his
lip-ring flashing. ‘Lost your way, little girl?’

His accent rolled through
her, deep and Irish. But there was a smoky lilt to his words that made the
accent darker.

‘I’m just browsing, thanks.’
Ash made herself smile and moved from under the cage. She resisted the urge to
tug at her dress, too aware that, from his vantage point, he had a direct line
down her cleavage. Self-consciousness painted a flush on her cheeks. He was all
ink and piercings and she felt distinctly vanilla under his gaze. Now she knew
what Madden had meant.

Feigning interest in the
merchandise, she walked around a statue, turning her back on the cage. From the
corner of her eye, she saw the feline arch of his body as he jumped down, his
purple Doc Marten’s hitting the floor in a sure-footed crouch.

Pretending not to notice his
approach from behind, she touched a large, dark sculpture of a one-eyed giant.
He stepped in close behind her and she felt his heat skitter up her spine.

‘It’s carved from Irish
bog-oak,’ he said, ‘thousands of years old.’

‘It’s beautiful,’ she said,
‘so tactile. This is Balor, right? Of the evil eye.’
There
. She knew
their heathen gods.
That ought to impress him
.

‘That’s what it says, right
there on the base,’ he replied drolly, his breath hot on her ear.

Sure enough, the name was
engraved on the plinth along with the sculptor’s name, Luc.

Ash groaned internally.
Great,
so all it proved is that I can read
.
Strike one.

She skirted around him to
brush her fingers against another statue, this one of a huge man with a stag’s
antlers. ‘This Luc guy is really talented.’ She didn’t have to fake any appreciation.
The artwork was incredible.

‘Thanks.’ He grinned at her,
dogging her steps.

So he must be Luc.
Not who she needed.

She bought time, her eyes
skipping around the store as she moved to the glass cases of jewellery. They
showcased heaps of Celtic silver, but some large, hoop earrings with engraved
wolves caught her eye.

‘These are really pretty. Do
you sell them in pairs?’ she asked.

He gave her a curious look.
‘Sure.’

‘Do they come in smaller
sizes?’

‘Creed,’ he called, ‘Miss
America here wants to know if your cock rings come in smaller sizes.’

Wait … what?

The screen in the corner
pulled back to reveal a gorgeous man, dirty blond hair mussed, snake-bites
winking from under his lower lip and a hoop pierced through his eyebrow. He sat
back with an amused grin, clicking the tattoo gun off and setting it on the
side with his black latex gloves. He’d been inking the pert ass of a blue
haired woman, who turned to them, cheeks hollowing as she suckled on a red ice
lolly. It left her lips with a wet pop as she fixed Ash in a sympathetic pout.

‘Awww, you’re with the wrong
guy, love,’ she said, her delicate fingers reaching out to stroke over the
sizeable bulge in Creed’s pants.

Ash choked, the heat flaming
her face making her lightheaded. Madden couldn’t have prepared her for cock
rings, a naked ass and a barely leashed erection.

They filled her stunned
silence.

‘Think you took a wrong turn
on your tourist map,’ Creed said, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

‘The souvenir shops are over on
O’Connell Street.’ She turned to the sound of the bell and saw Luc holding the
door open for her to leave. It rankled her and she smoothed down her
mortification by straightening her spine.

‘I’m not a tourist,’ she
said, determined to stand her ground. ‘I’m here to see the Governor.’

After a moment of silence,
the door swung shut with a jangle and Luc moved to slide the bolt across it.
The sound of it engaging was ominous. He turned the door sign to ‘closed’ and
Ash restrained a nervous growl.

‘Here to see the Governor. Is
that so?’ Creed was off his stool and in front of her in a heartbeat, his hand
curled around her throat. ‘And what does a sweet little virgin-skin like you
want with the Governor, hmm?’

She was not about to protest
her lack of virginity to these guys. She’d dug a hole deep enough to bury
herself and right now, she’d settle for crawling into it, but Liath’s life
depended on Ash getting what she came for. She swallowed hard. ‘I need to speak
with him.’

‘Need?’ He cocked his head to
one side and his hot gaze slid over her body like molten chocolate. ‘Need is a
powerful thing,’ he said, running his tongue over the piercings in his lower
lip. ‘Just how far is a girl like you prepared to go, to get what she needs?’

‘What?’ she stammered. ‘You know
what, I’ll come back another day, okay?’

Luc moved in behind her,
crowding her away from the window and blocking her only chance of escape.

Creed grasped her jaw,
lifting her gaze to catch on his. As she stared defiantly back into his
mischievously dark eyes, his lids flashed down, capturing her in the centres of
two inked spirals.

The strange patterns on his
lids seemed to move, like one of those odd black and white optical illusions
that take on a life of their own the longer you look at them.

Ash couldn’t look away.

Sunlight warmed her inside
out and she floated amongst the clouds.

‘You know what to do,’ Creed
murmured.

Yes
, she thought. Yes, of course. Why hadn’t she thought
of it earlier?

It all made perfect sense.
She knew exactly how to make him like her.

She dropped to her knees, her
fingers opening the fastening of his pants easily. Ash took him in hand and
squeezed, her lips parting to take him whole.

His groans encouraged her.

‘Fuck,’ Creed grunted as she
swallowed him, ‘for a virgin-skin, she can deep-throat like a sword swallower.’
He fisted her hair and pumped himself between her lips.

‘Let me taste her, Creed.’
The blue-haired woman sauntered closer, her lower half bare, red lips parted
and revealing small, sharp fangs.

‘You’ll have your turn, DD,’
he promised.

Ash felt Luc’s knees close
her in from behind, his big hands riding up her hips as he ruched the dress
waist-high. Working past the barrier of her panties, he ran one long, wet
finger down the crack of her ass.

She jolted in surprise at the
foreign touch, but moaned when he stroked that finger inside her.

‘Damn,’ Luc hissed when she
clenched around him, ‘her ass is virgin too.’

Ash’s head spun, her hooded
eyes only vaguely registering the sudden movement in her peripheral vision as
the pair of legs from the bean-bag shifted to become an actual person, growing
into a male with a full, colourful mohawk that made him a giant, as if he
wasn’t already towering.

Was he going to join them?
She could make room.

‘That’s enough mind-fucking
for one day, lads. Let it go.’

His voice resonated inside
her head, pulling at her.

DD whinged a protest
somewhere to her left.

Ash blinked and suddenly
Creed was blinking back at her, his hands still on her cheeks, which flamed in
horror. She lurched away from him, breaking from his touch.

He stood grinning, fully
clothed, not a zipper out of place, Luc at his side. A mental check told her
she had all her underwear on.

Swallowing down panicked
growls, Ash stared at them. ‘Oh my God. What did you do?’

Creed winked at her, flashing
the spiral of ink. ‘Nothing. Just a little mind trick, Sweet-cheeks.’

‘Nothing? You prick!’ Ash
growled and bared her teeth at him. Madden had warned her not to lose it,
whatever happened, but that was easier said than done. 'You ... mind-raped me.'

'Didn't hear you complaining
when my balls were slapping your chin,' he shrugged. ‘But I imagine you’re not
used to having your mouth that full.’

‘Bastard,' she hissed, 'I’ll
castrate you with my bare hands.’ She felt her claws unsheathe.

‘Put a muzzle on it, Woman,’
the guy with the Mohawk commanded.

Ash’s head whipped in his
direction, furious. ‘What did you just say to me?’

‘I said, dial down your
aggression. Our four-legged friends aren't welcome here. Says so in the shop window.’
His words might have been light-hearted, but his tone was deadly serious. He
raised his left palm to her, displaying another Celtic symbol, similar to the
ones tattooed on Creed’s eyelids, and Ash felt her anger slowly leach away.
‘Nobody actually touched you,' he said more gently. 'Like Creed said, it was a
mind-trick.’

‘But if you ever want to make
it a reality, you come visit me.’ Carnal promise layered Creed’s dark accent.