Lover Enslaved: Thieves of Aurion, Book 1 (24 page)

“Oh, you mean like if I do this?” She pumped her fist, slow and teasing, before swirling her thumb across the head of his cock.

It was too much. Nothing would save him now—not even reciting the goddess alphabet backwards while he envisioned a whole roomful of naked, hairy Vorhians. Fisting the silk coverlet with both hands, he surrendered to the white-hot release pounding down on him. A ragged, agonized moan ripped from his throat and his eyes rolled back.

Several minutes later, still gasping for breath, he collapsed in a boneless heap. Mara leaned down and gave him a demure peck on the lips. “Hm, thirty seconds. Has to be a record.”

He glared at her through slitted eyes. “It’s bloody amazing I lasted that long.”

Chuckling, she patted his chest before springing from the mattress. The brain-frying orgasm she just provided dulled his reflexes and he missed grabbing the tail of her skirt. With a suitably evil laugh, she escaped through the automatic door.

Chapter Eighteen

Dash exhaled in relief when he pulled up in front of Jerrick’s rented room and spied his brother tossing a black satchel onto the backseat of a vintage cherry red Air Racer. He thought for sure Jerrick would have taken off the second the sun rose above the horizon. Crazy kid had always been an early riser, an annoying habit that regularly chapped Dash’s ass back when they were partners. Really, was there ever a good reason to get up before nine?

Throwing his vehicle into park, Dash climbed out and ambled towards the Air Racer
,
silently admiring its pristine paint job. “I can’t believe you still have this ancient hunk of scrap metal.”

Jerrick swung around, his head narrowly missing the vehicle’s doorframe. His shoulders relaxed when he spotted Dash but his scowl remained firmly etched in place. “Scrap metal? That’s blasphemy, my friend.” His gaze flicked over Dash’s shoulder to the Cloud Chaser. “Especially when you’re driving around in that thing.”

Yep, he had a point.

“What are you doing out here anyway?” Jerrick slammed the Air Racer’s door shut. “I didn’t give you my address just so you can start stalking me.”

“I don’t like the idea of you going out to Lefere’s alone.”

Jerrick leaned against the hood of his vehicle, the casual pose in direct opposition to the rigid plane of his jaw. “I’m not an eighteen-year-old punk anymore. I can handle Magnus on my own.”

Damn stubborn kid
. “I know. Could you humor me anyway?”

For several tense seconds, it seemed Jerrick might balk. Finally, he nodded. “But we’re taking the Air Racer. No way I’m sitting in that ride of yours.”

“Deal.” Dash ambled to the passenger door of his brother’s vehicle and climbed inside.

Jerrick slid behind the wheel and turned on the engine. Grungy metal music pounded through the speakers. Approximately a minute and a half passed before he reached for the volume control and lowered it several decibels. He stared at Dash in stunned disbelief. “Holy shit, you got laid, didn’t you?”

“What? No.”

Jerrick glared at him. “You’re a piece of work, you know that? Giving me shit about Avily, which I wasn’t guilty of, and here you won’t even come clean about Mara.”

“I didn’t get laid…exactly. But let’s just say she had me in the palm of her hand.” A flush of heat raced over him at the memory. “How the devil did you know anything happened?”

“Are you kidding?” Jerrick grunted. “You hate my taste in music and not one single complaint popped out of your mouth. Which means you’re still basking in post-coital joy.”

“Shut up and pull out of the damn driveway.”

“That lasted long.” Growling, Jerrick sped into the street.

The drive to Magnus Lefere’s countryside shack took roughly forty minutes. Dash surveyed the overgrown pine bushes obscuring most of the house’s exterior. Amazing the level of squalor some people insisted on living in. And in Lefere’s case, it was definitely by choice. The man made plenty of merca—enough to buy a palace if he wanted. “I take it Lefere’s still hoarding his merca under his mattress.”

“Yep.”

Dash made a wry face. “Some things never change.”

Jerrick reached for his door handle. Stopping, he eyed Dash, his mouth tightening. “Look, I let you tag along, but don’t get any bonehead ideas about following me inside. You’ve a price over your head, and as you pointed out last night, Magnus is one greedy, backstabbing sonofabitch. Besides…” Jerrick pressed a button on the center console and the hidden compartment beneath the steering wheel popped open. Reaching in, he pulled out a wicked-looking laser gun and tucked it inside his shoulder holster. He flipped his leather jacket back in place with a grim smile. “I’ve got my own brand of protection.”

“Good gods, don’t shoot your nipple off with that thing.”

Jerrick grimaced. “Your confidence in me is humbling.” He shoved his door open and climbed out, giving the area a quick scan.

Other than the mongrel hound gnawing on an enormous stick in the front walkway, there didn’t seem to be any living creatures stirring about. Jerrick remained on high alert when he approached the hound. The beast’s scraggly brown tail thumped, barely disturbing the weeds poking up through the crumbling bricks marking the path to the house. Apparently satisfied his leg wasn’t going to replace the stick tottering between the hound’s massive paws, Jerrick proceeded up the rickety-looking stairway and disappeared behind the screen of pines.

Dash pressed the station surfer, banishing the gods-awful grunge metal. The rich, smoky strains of a female singer floated through the speakers. “This is more like it.” The sensual music swelled, filling the vehicle. He imagined Mara beneath him, moaning as his thrusts kept tempo with the music. Slow and rhythmic—that’s how he’d give it to her. By the time her tenth orgasm left her more wrung out than a rag, she’d know the true meaning of payback.

The crunch of footsteps drew his attention back to the driver’s side window. He frowned when he spied Jerrick hurrying towards the Air Racer. “That was quick.”

Jerrick leaned his head inside the window and Dash realized his brother’s normally tan face wore a tinge of green. “We’ve got a problem.”

Dash reached for his harness release. “What’s wrong?”

“Lefere’s dead.” Jerrick shot a glance over his shoulder. “And that stick the mutt’s chewing on? Pretty damn sure it’s Magnus’s leg.”

The stench permeating Magnus Lefere’s humble shack nearly knocked Dash on his ass. Breathing shallowly through his nose, he leaned over the enormous man laying facedown in the middle of the filthy, garbage-strewn floor.

“Yep, he’s minus his wooden leg.” Dash visually tracked the muddy paw prints leading to and from the knee-high flap door cut in the nearby side of the shack. “Wonder if the hound absconded with it before or after Lefere met his maker.” He shook his head, figuring that’d be one mystery forever unsolved. “Want to give me a hand turning him over?”

Jerrick looked none too excited about the prospect of touching Lefere. That made two of them.

Growling, Jerrick hunkered next to Magnus’s good leg. “You owe me big time for this.”

Side by side, they rolled the dead man over until he landed on his back with a thud. Dash lifted his gaze north of Lefere’s impressive potbelly, giving a low whistle when he took in the pebble-sized laser hole cauterized in the man’s chest. His whistle petered off when he noticed the edge of a photograph jutting from Magnus’s shirt pocket.

“What the hell is that?” Jerrick demanded, apparently noticing it too.

Dash reached for the corner of the glossy photo, easing it out. The object in the picture made his heart race.

The rune.

But it was the words scrawled in ominous red ink at the bottom of the photograph that turned his blood to ice.

Come get it.

Chapter Nineteen

Mara waited until she heard Piper’s off-key buzzing in the bathroom before she tiptoed across the room. Her hand snuck towards the door’s keypad, fingers inches from the green button.

“Where are you going?”

Damn, so close
. Mara gave the exit a wistful glance and turned. Piper fluttered in the bathroom entry, her amethyst eyes glittering with bright accusation.

“Uh…downstairs,” Mara said, thinking fast. “I left my coin purse in the networking terminal.”

“Hah!” Piper’s arm shot out, one finger pointing towards the dresser. “Then what’s that?”

Her coin purse.
Crap
.

Piper plopped her hands on her hips. “You’re sneaking out to meet
her
, aren’t you?”

“Maybe. Okay, yes,” Mara admitted with a reluctant sigh. “Why don’t you come with me?” It was better than the alternative—listening to Piper’s complaints all morning.

“Really?” Piper instantly perked up. “I can come with you?”

“Sure. But do me a favor and don’t bring up the poaching stuff again.” Mara wrinkled her nose. “I’m pretty sure you freaked poor Avily out.”

“You got it.” With an excited buzz, Piper flew to the keypad and kicked the green button. Once out in the hall, she slid Mara a sly look. “You’re being pretty nice this morning. Does that mean you and Rhyder did it last night?”

“Jeez, you’re poetic with your words.”

“Well did you?”

“That’s none of your damn business.”

Piper shoved her arms over her miniscule chest. “You’re no fun.”

Snorting, Mara led the way to the lift. Despite her refusal to appease Piper’s naughty curiosity, she couldn’t stop thinking about last night. Or forget the silky-steel texture of Dash’s…

Liquid heat rushed through Mara and she shivered. A part of her still couldn’t believe she’d had the nerve to do that to him. An even bigger part couldn’t wait to do it to him again.

“Cold?” Piper wagged a finger. “You should have worn a sweater.”

Yeah, that’ll really take care of my problem.
Blocking further mental images of Dash’s scrumptious body parts, Mara trudged the final block to Avily’s shop, The Fairest Rose. She stepped inside and breathed in the heady fragrance of the shop’s namesake.

“Mara,” Avily blurted in delighted surprise. She rushed forward, her wide grin slipping a little when she spied Piper.

The milling customers drew Mara’s eye. “Did we come at a bad time?”

“Nah, the big crush of customers isn’t due for another half an hour—when everyone lets out for lunch. Besides, I could use some honest opinions on this new honey tea I’m promoting.”

Happy to oblige, Mara followed Avily to the far corner of the shop, where a rose-colored hutch held a white pottery tea set. The set certainly didn’t compare in elegance to any of the dozens gracing Rulach Palace, but she found its simplicity charming.

Avily poured a cup of tea for Mara and glanced at Piper. She bit her lips in contemplation. “I don’t get a lot of sprite customers. Oh wait, I’ve an idea.” Grinning, she rushed over to a wicker basket holding silver thimbles. “These are left over from the woman who owned this place before I took over, back when it used to be a seamstress shop. Don’t they make cute little cups?”

Piper scrunched her button nose while Avily filled one of the thimbles. “
Eewwe
, that better be clean.”

Glaring, Mara lifted her hand, but Piper wisely sensed where it was heading and flew to the other side of Avily.

Mara sent Piper a final warning stare before sipping from her cup. The essence of honey and lavender mingled on her tongue. She hummed in appreciation, her irritation at the pain-in-the-ass sprite instantly dissipating.

“What do you think? Remotely palatable?”

“It’s delicious.” Licking her lips, Mara glanced around the shop, taking in the nearby shelf of lotions and creams packaged in beautifully etched decanters. “Your shop is so pretty and frilly. And it smells divine.” She inhaled the sweet fragrance lacing the air. “I keep expecting to walk around a corner and stumble across an actual rose garden.”

“Hmm, now you’ve got me thinking.” Avily settled the teapot down and tapped a finger against her chin. “A few live rose plants tucked inside some urns would add a nice touch.”

Mara smiled at Avily’s intent expression. “You really know your stuff.”

“In this biz, you’ve got to stay competitive. Particularly when half the fae population stick their noses up at the idea of frequenting a business run by a human. Still, I’ll take it over my old way of life—far less chance of getting thrown in the fairy prison.”

Avily’s pronouncement slowly registered with Mara. Lowering the cup, she stared at her over the rim. “Were you a…” Mara lowered her voice to a whisper, in case any customers might be within earshot, “…thief?”

A blush pinked Avily’s cheeks. “Yeah, many moons ago. After Leena took off, my mother had a tough time coming up with merca to support us. It took some doing, but I convinced Jerrick to teach me the trade.”

Mara didn’t bother hiding her fascination. “How old were you?”

“Ten. I just turned twenty-five, which means I’ve been out of the thief biz for almost six years now.” Avily shook her head. “Wow, hard to believe.”

The parallels between them were downright freaky. Their ages, the fact they basically bargained themselves into dubious employment in their earlier years.