Heart's Flame: Paranormal Romance Page 2

  Keira spun to face him. Her face heated, and she knew she had spots of color high on both cheeks. “Uh, no. I’m just looking.” Responding to something, maybe a small spell, maybe just an invitation in those wonderful ice-blue eyes, she stammered on, “The rose quartz crystal—”

  “I sold it. Just yesterday. It was one of my favorites as well. If you’re interested, I should be getting a new shipment soon, but the crystals are all unique. If there’s one you like, just let me know, and I can ascertain if it pairs well with your energy.”

  “I, um, you see, I can’t really afford anything like that. I just like to look.”

  “It’s okay. I get lots of lookers here.”

  Barrett smiled at her. Gazed into her eyes and smiled right at her. Keira’s heart stuttered. She opened her mouth and closed it again when words wouldn’t come. Unable to help herself, she took a step toward him and stumbled.

  He placed a hand under her elbow to steady her. “Got you.”

  An electric shock ran up her arm. Her breathing quickened.

  You don’t know the half of it. You’ve more than got me.

  Heart thudding, throat dry, she smiled, managed to murmur, “Thank you,” and scuttled toward the door before she did something stupid like throw herself at his feet and beg him to take her.

  Here.

  Now.

  On the floor in front of everyone.

  * * * *

  Barrett gazed after the fleeing girl. His cock pressed against the front of his worn breeches, as hard as it ever got. It throbbed hotly, urging him to go after her, run her down, drag her back to his bed, and… He shook his head. What had gotten into him? He was well beyond the age where he let his penis lead him around.

  The girl was unbelievably beautiful. Her blonde hair was so long it reached her ass. She had an arresting face with high cheekbones, lush lips, and silver eyes. He’d thought only his race had eyes that color, and they were rare even among the Daoine Sidhe. But the ache in his groin went beyond her beauty. There was something about her, a purity of spirit that called to him. When he’d tried to sense her magic to see just what she was, he ran up against a wall. Almost as if she were warded. It wasn’t something she was doing on purpose, though. If it was, he’d have seen it in her mind. No, it was more like a magical barrier surrounded her.

  He usually didn’t pay any attention to the hordes of customers frequenting his shop. After all, it was the only one of its kind left. He expected it to be full to overflowing with patrons. He’d noticed the girl, though, the very first time she snuck in. Wet to the bone, her full breasts, tipped with wonderfully erect nipples, had been clearly visible through the thin fabric of her top. She’d taken to the outer wall and worked her way around the shop that day. Curious about her, he’d spun a mild compulsion spell to reel her in closer. He still didn’t know what happened. She’d been moving toward him when something shifted, and she scampered out of his shop like the dogs of Hell were nipping at her heels.

  Sort of like she did today.

  He chuckled, not caring that a pair of Witches eyed him oddly. He’d spoken with the girl a few times, but today’s conversation was by far and away the longest. Though he liked to see himself as immune to women, this one frequented his dreams. He often woke with his hand pumping his shaft as he fantasized about the girl with no name. In his favorite vision, she was astride him, firm breasts pressed against his chest and long, blonde hair tickling his naked flesh.

  Determined to at least find out where she lived before her trail grew cold, he glanced about the store. Too many customers to get rid of. He strode to Baen, a Witch who’d fought on their side during the war. “Could you watch the register for me? Sorry, but it’s a bit of an emergency. I won’t be gone more than an hour or two.”

  She raised perfectly formed red brows in her ageless, porcelain-skinned face. “For you. Of course,” she purred.

  “Thanks.” Barrett kicked himself. He’d forgotten Baen had been trying to worm her way into his bed for a couple of years. Then he stopped thinking and sprinted out the door. Barrett threw his magic senses wide open, searching. He blew out a relieved sigh. There she was. Her track would be easy to follow. He’d been afraid the same magic that cloaked what she was would hide her trail as well.

  He warded himself, so his power wouldn’t tip her off and followed her back to Were Calls.

  Son of a bitch. She’s a hooker.

  From his vantage point behind some stacks of trash, Barrett felt incredulous. How did the Weres ever get someone that gorgeous to trick for them? What he knew fell into place. She had to be indentured. It was why he couldn’t get close enough with magic to sense what she was. The Weres must have some sort of microelectronic harness on her. He’d heard about them from the Fairies, who generated most electronic devices these days.

  An indefinable sadness tugged at him. He felt the heaviness in the pit of his stomach. Barrett waited until the door shut. He’d heard a man shouting at the girl from where he was, all the way across the street. It was a struggle not to go pound on the door, tell them he’d buy her bond, and be done with it. Even if she didn’t want him, at least she’d be free.

  Barrett took a deep breath and then one more. Get back to the shop, he instructed himself sharply. The last thing I need is emotional entanglements. So he wouldn’t be tempted to change his mind, he pulled magic, visualized his shop, and left in a hurry.

  At least the girl wasn’t a mystery anymore. It explained why she’d been so tentative in his shop. He was surprised the Weres let their property roam about freely, but then he remembered the Covenant. Even the indentured had some rights. Weres had been the only ones who wanted indentured servants. The others had argued vehemently against them. Especially the Fairies. In the end, the other magic wielders had capitulated because the Weres were ready to walk out on fragile negotiations. And they weren’t signing anything that didn’t let them keep their pet servants.

  Barrett stood in front of his shop for a few moments composing himself. Now that he knew more, he’d have a better chance of approaching the girl next time she came to his shop.

  I thought I didn’t need any emotional tangles, an inner voice mocked him.

  Barrett ignored it. He nodded to himself, certain she’d show up again. Something about his shop drew her. Maybe it was an antidote to the life she led. He pushed open the door and went inside.

  “There you are.” Baen settled a hand familiarly on his arm.

  “Yes.” He forced himself to smile brightly. “Thank you so much. Here.” He broke away from her grip. “Let me pay you.”

  “Not necessary. Maybe I could stay for a bit after you close—” She leered suggestively and licked full, red lips.

  Barrett blew out a breath. “I’m flattered, but no. I do not want you in my bed.”

  Her eyes widened. “I-I’m not sure where you got that idea,” she sputtered, color staining her face.

  “Because I’m very good at reading body language. And minds. Thanks for watching the shop. Now, if it’s all the same to you, I’d just as soon end this conversation.”

  Her lips drew back into a snarl. Magic spooled so hot it turned the air incandescent. Barrett steeled himself, sure she was going to launch herself at him and go for his eyes. Instead, she spun on her heel and strode toward the door, hips swinging as if to say, see what you missed, buddy.

  Barrett blew out a tired breath and settled himself in his customary seat behind the counter. He hoped there wouldn’t be any repercussions from the Witches because Baen was angry. From long habit, he scanned the shop, alert for any sign of trouble. Today everyone seemed to be getting along. He shut his eyes. The girl materialized in the darkness, her silver eyes aglow.

  Tomorrow, he promised himself. Tomorrow, I’ll at least find out her name.

  Chapter Two

  Keira pulled her thin, black cloak closer. It was pushing midnight, and she was cold. She hooded her eyes so their silver gleam, reflected in the odd streetlight that was
still operational, wouldn’t give her away. Rain had soaked her to the skin, but at least the threadbare fabric kept some of her body's warmth from escaping. And helped her blend into the shadows. Keira grimaced. She’d made the rounds—again—but no one wanted to risk the Weres’ wrath by concealing her or helping her escape her indenture.

  The one place she hadn’t gone was Barrett’s shop. Not since her visit two days ago. The last interaction with him rattled her. She liked to be in control, especially with men. It was a survival tactic. Barrett woke something hot, feral, and primitive in her, and her control would crumple if put to the test.

  Her life was scarcely bearable as it was. She didn’t need to complicate it further by lusting after an unavailable man.

  It was one thing to fantasize about him, quite another to have the real thing smiling inches from her face. He’d been aroused too. She was quite certain of it, even without looking at his crotch.

  Something brushed against her wet cheek. She started and tossed up the best ward she could manage. When you didn’t have much magic to begin with, keeping a ward in place was nearly impossible, which was why she’d been walking unprotected.

  “Why are you out here heading for Were Calls? I thought you weren’t going back.” A two-and-a-half foot tall Fairy with violet wings hovered off to one side, her delicate features scrunched into a frown.

  Keira blew out a tightly held breath and loosed her ward. “Damnation! You shouldn’t sneak up on folks like that. Look, Renn, escape is a nice fantasy, but if I don’t show up, they’ll send someone to hurt me.”

  “You don’t know that. Not for sure.”

  “Yes, I do. I’m late as it is. Besides, Were Calls is the only home I have. Nowhere else to get out of the weather.”

  Renn clucked. “You could see if Barrett—”

  “No. I am not throwing myself on his mercy.” She thought about the tall, well-built Daoine Sidhe—again—and hoped Renn wasn’t eavesdropping in her mind. Even though the Fairy was her friend, Keira was confused enough about Barrett that she wasn’t ready to discuss her feelings—or have them dissected.

  “I, um, don’t want to be a charity case for anyone.”

  “Well, what about the Witch’s guild?”

  A sigh rattled Keira’s teeth. “I already did that.”

  “Oh, yeah. Sorry, I forgot. They threw you out, huh?”

  “My magic’s too diluted. It was a mistake to bother them again. They got pissed and told me not to come back—ever.”

  Renn shook her head. “Maybe your magic just needs encouragement. You never had much of a chance to do anything with it. The Weres kept you a virtual prisoner after your mother died—”

  “Stop.” Keira held up a hand. “The war was in full swing. They were trying to keep me safe. And they didn’t have to. It’s not like I was one of them. They checked my blood with DNA tracing before they slapped that bond on me once I was eighteen—”

  “And old enough to turn tricks for them. Pretty self-serving on their part.” Renn snorted.

  “Be that as it may, according to the Were shaman, no one knows exactly what I am, magically-speaking.” Keira crossed her arms over her chest and eyed the Fairy. “I don’t really have any choices, sweetie. It’s hump Weres or panhandle on a street corner while I try to hide from them. You know how they are. They see their indentured servants as property. They’d hunt me down and make me sorry. Shame on me, but I like to eat.”

  Renn’s multi-colored eyes looked sad. She knotted wet red hair and chucked it to one side so it could drip down her back. Fluttering closer, she landed on Keira’s shoulder and sat, winding a slender arm around her neck. The Fairy felt much like a medium-sized child would have. But she was warm, and Keira leaned into that warmth enjoying both the contact and their friendship.

  “Why do you bother with me?”

  The Fairy shrugged. Keira felt the motion against her head. “My people would just as soon I didn’t. Chalk it up to nostalgia. I remember when everyone was free, and we all helped each other.”

  “Well, I don’t remember any of that.”

  Her mother had been indentured to the Weres too, working as a hooker just like Keira. She died when Keira was young. Her father’s identity was a mystery. He could’ve been any of the johns her mother entertained the month Keira was conceived. He had to have at least fifty percent Were blood, though. Otherwise he couldn’t have been a client at a Were bordello. So she was at least a quarter Were. Nowhere near enough to change into anything.

  The other part of her magic was elusive. It wasn’t Witch, not exactly. Or Sidhe. Or Fae. At least not according to the Weres who’d raised her, waiting impatiently for her eighteenth birthday, so they could charge an outrageous fee for her virgin’s blood.

  I’d have been better off without any magic at all, she thought bitterly.

  The magician guilds were cliquish. She didn’t have enough of any one bloodline for them to accept her. If she had, she wouldn’t have ended up indentured to the Weres. One of the guilds would have spoken for her. Claimed her for their own.

  She flicked her fingers in front of her to dissipate tension. No point feeling sorry for herself. It wouldn’t change anything. The only world Keira had ever known sprawled about her, gray and depressing. The one good part about the rain was it muted the stench of rot and death.

  The bracelet around her upper arm tightened uncomfortably. Keira flinched. She knew what was coming next.

  “You’re late. We have a customer requesting you.” Simon’s rough growl of a voice sounded in her mind.

  “Be there in ten.”

  An annoyed snarl. “I suppose we can offer him another until you arrive. We’ll talk about this later. You’d better have a good excuse.”

  “I don’t know why you let them push you around like that.” Renn sounded outraged, her normally musical voice shrill.

  Keira tilted her head at an angle and met the Fairy’s gaze. “That was a private conversation.”

  “I listened in. So shoot me.”

  Keira walked faster, surprised Renn hadn’t bailed. “What? Are you coming along?”

  “Do you mind?”

  Keira considered it. The Weres loved Fairies. They were a hot item at the bordello. Because Fairies were full bloods, they were a free people. Weres couldn’t make them bond servants like she was. It also meant they got an eighty-twenty split on what they earned, unlike her forty-sixty.

  If I could make twice as much, it would make a big difference.

  Like any indentured servant, she could buy her freedom, but the price was steep. So steep she’d given up even trying.

  Something lumbered through the trash heaps. Metal snapped, glass ground underfoot. Probably a roving pack of coyotes or mountain lions. Her heart thudded against her ribs, and her throat tightened. Keira pulled invisibility about her and Renn and melted into an alleyway. She cast a don’t look here spell. It was better that way. Easier than killing.

  Renn’s fingers tightened on the side of her neck. “Ssht. They’ll pass us by.”

  Loud snuffling made Keira revise her assessment. Wild pigs. She reinforced her spell, her use of power draining her by the second. The pigs were just as deadly as anything else. Just as hungry too. She had to hold the illusion keeping them hidden. To loose it meant death.

  It took a while, but the pigs—there’d only been three—moved on. She’d just set out again when her bracelet sent hot jabs into her upper arm. Before Simon could snarl at her—or worse, shock her—she snapped, “Back off. I ran into some pigs. Be there soon.” She took off at a fast trot, holding invisibility about them. Renn boosted her spell with Fairy magic. Even so, by the time they reached the bordello, Keira was panting.

  She pushed against the heavy, stainless steel door of Were Calls. The metal shone in the beam of a red and white light suspended from one of the upper floors. The door gave as soon as the electronic scanner verified she was someone known. Relatively new, the electronics had done away with the need f
or a door guard.

  “About fucking time.” Simon slithered out of the shadows of a long hall leading to the reception area. “Oh.” He brightened. “I see you brought a delectable morsel. That might buy you clemency for your tardiness.”

  Renn took to the air and bowed, her wings fluttering. “You might talk me into some fun—for a good price. Just remember. No rough stuff. I like my customers docile.” She pulled the top of her jacket open revealing full, naked breasts and batted her lashes at him. Simon’s breathing escalated. The front of his leather breeches pooched out.

  Keira hid a smile. She knew all about Simon. He tried all the girls. His excuse was he needed to get a feel for the merchandise to make certain he matched them well to his Were brethren. But the truth was he just liked to fuck. Not that he was a bad lay. At least she knew what she had with him. Some of the other Were Calls staff were less tractable.

  Her one rule was everyone—customers included—had to keep their human form to have sex with her. The Covenant gave her that privilege. It was one of the few rights bond servants had. Her mother was dead because a Were bear smothered her. He hadn’t meant to, but he’d been swept away by his rutting heat. At least that’s what the Weres told her once she was old enough to understand.

  She unwound her wet cloak and shook it. Drops splattered on the wooden floor. Soaked, blonde hair hung past her waist. Even wet, it was curly. She wondered if she’d have time to gin up a spot of magic to dry it and turned to ask Simon. He’d laid a fingertip on one of Renn’s nipples. It lengthened under his touch. The Fairy licked her lips suggestively. She pushed her hips toward him in an unmistakable, lewd gesture and placed a tiny hand over his finger.

  “Sure, Were man,” she purred. “Like I said, we can play. But since it’s you, I want the full fee. No split with the house because you work here.”

  Simon stole a glance at Keira. “Not a word out of you,” he hissed.

  “My lips are sealed.” She smiled and went for it. “So long as there’s no punishment for me being late.”

  Simon narrowed his dark green eyes and shoved shoulder-length black hair away from his face. He raised his arms, stretching. The movement showcased his broad shoulders, slim hips, and sculpted abs. Like all Were Calls staff, he wore a skin-tight leather shirt with matching breeches. Keira’s gaze roved over him. Yup. His cock was just about as stiff as it could get. He wanted Renn. She wondered if she should push for an even more advantageous bargain.