tie me up?” She grinned.
“Can’t it be both?”
“Yeah, I guess it can.” She kissed him. “I can’t lose you, Imre.”
“You won’t. I swear.”
For a moment, she didn’t believe him, but then she remembered he didn’t make promises he couldn’t keep. So she dressed in her shredded leathers—Imre’s claws had made easy work of them. They actually looked kind of badass. She could roll with it. She chose a clean shirt from the closet and while it was much too big, it hung on her like it was meant to be that way.
Briefly, she thought about texting Krysanthe, but she had enough to worry about with what had happened at Hidden Mountain. This task had been entrusted to them and they could handle it.
It was new being the responsible one. Aranka realized she’d always wanted them to believe she could do these things, but she’d never stepped up. She’d always relied on Voshkie, Krys, and her father to handle everything. She’d flit from thing to thing never worrying about what she left in her wake.
That wasn’t really adventure. That was fear.
And she was done with that. She wanted to be the woman Imre believed she was. She understood now what Krys meant when she said Ondrej made her want to be better. She’d thought there was no better woman than Krys, so how could anyone make her want to be better without instilling some sort of feeling of inadequacy?
But she totally got it now.
They drive to Devil’s Due was uneventful, but the sense of that unnatural gold only got stronger. Dread twisted into a tight knot in her gut.
She leaned closer to Imre, inhaled the scent of him and found her center. She knew the werewolves could smell her fear and she wasn’t going to undermine this mission by giving them that power.
When they pulled up to the bar, she felt like she could conquer the world.
Until she caught a glimpse of her neck in the side mirror. The mate mark had scarred, as she knew it would, but just like Ondrej’s Alpha scales looked like a tattoo, so too did her mate mark.
It looked as if she’d gotten “Imre” tattooed on her neck.
Godsdamnit .
Well, she consoled herself, at least it didn’t say “old lady.” There was always that.
“Pim’s not here and he didn’t answer my texts,” Imre said after scanning the parking lot.
“Do you think he ran?”
“No, I don’t. The blood we found, the bank account with all the money still there… I think he was killed.”
A ragged, dirty child ran toward them, determination etched on her small face.
“I know where the gold man is.”
“Aranka, this is Cezille.”
“You know where my father is?” Hope flooded her, but rather than being a comfort, it only made that knot in her gut tighten.
“They’re keeping him at the jail. I saw him through the window. You have to come or they’re going to move him. They say the Hunter himself is coming for him.”
“When he’s coming?”
Cezille shrugged. “Don’t know. Just heard the guards talking.”
Aranka’s first instinct was to travel the gold, but she even if she could get to him, she didn’t know how to get the collar off and they’d need that to help him escape. She could just go see, just get a look at him—
“—nasty things. Snarling things. I think they’re ghouls. Ain’t like no zombie I’ve ever seen,” the little girl said.
“Wait, you’ve seen zombies?” Aranka couldn’t help but ask.
“Oh yeah. Loads. Especially living out in the swamp and the grandmother is a hoodoo woman. They’re mostly harmless.”
“That’s cool.”
Cezille rewarded her with a big smile. “I like seeing new things. What are you? Are you like the gold man?”
“I’m a gold nymph and the man is my father, Glorfindel, King of the Orlaith.”
“That’s even cooler.” The little girl smiled again. “I’m sorry they took them. The Hunters are bad people. The one they work for, I used to think he was just a story the elders told us to make us behave. But then people
“Can’t it be both?”
“Yeah, I guess it can.” She kissed him. “I can’t lose you, Imre.”
“You won’t. I swear.”
For a moment, she didn’t believe him, but then she remembered he didn’t make promises he couldn’t keep. So she dressed in her shredded leathers—Imre’s claws had made easy work of them. They actually looked kind of badass. She could roll with it. She chose a clean shirt from the closet and while it was much too big, it hung on her like it was meant to be that way.
Briefly, she thought about texting Krysanthe, but she had enough to worry about with what had happened at Hidden Mountain. This task had been entrusted to them and they could handle it.
It was new being the responsible one. Aranka realized she’d always wanted them to believe she could do these things, but she’d never stepped up. She’d always relied on Voshkie, Krys, and her father to handle everything. She’d flit from thing to thing never worrying about what she left in her wake.
That wasn’t really adventure. That was fear.
And she was done with that. She wanted to be the woman Imre believed she was. She understood now what Krys meant when she said Ondrej made her want to be better. She’d thought there was no better woman than Krys, so how could anyone make her want to be better without instilling some sort of feeling of inadequacy?
But she totally got it now.
They drive to Devil’s Due was uneventful, but the sense of that unnatural gold only got stronger. Dread twisted into a tight knot in her gut.
She leaned closer to Imre, inhaled the scent of him and found her center. She knew the werewolves could smell her fear and she wasn’t going to undermine this mission by giving them that power.
When they pulled up to the bar, she felt like she could conquer the world.
Until she caught a glimpse of her neck in the side mirror. The mate mark had scarred, as she knew it would, but just like Ondrej’s Alpha scales looked like a tattoo, so too did her mate mark.
It looked as if she’d gotten “Imre” tattooed on her neck.
Godsdamnit .
Well, she consoled herself, at least it didn’t say “old lady.” There was always that.
“Pim’s not here and he didn’t answer my texts,” Imre said after scanning the parking lot.
“Do you think he ran?”
“No, I don’t. The blood we found, the bank account with all the money still there… I think he was killed.”
A ragged, dirty child ran toward them, determination etched on her small face.
“I know where the gold man is.”
“Aranka, this is Cezille.”
“You know where my father is?” Hope flooded her, but rather than being a comfort, it only made that knot in her gut tighten.
“They’re keeping him at the jail. I saw him through the window. You have to come or they’re going to move him. They say the Hunter himself is coming for him.”
“When he’s coming?”
Cezille shrugged. “Don’t know. Just heard the guards talking.”
Aranka’s first instinct was to travel the gold, but she even if she could get to him, she didn’t know how to get the collar off and they’d need that to help him escape. She could just go see, just get a look at him—
“—nasty things. Snarling things. I think they’re ghouls. Ain’t like no zombie I’ve ever seen,” the little girl said.
“Wait, you’ve seen zombies?” Aranka couldn’t help but ask.
“Oh yeah. Loads. Especially living out in the swamp and the grandmother is a hoodoo woman. They’re mostly harmless.”
“That’s cool.”
Cezille rewarded her with a big smile. “I like seeing new things. What are you? Are you like the gold man?”
“I’m a gold nymph and the man is my father, Glorfindel, King of the Orlaith.”
“That’s even cooler.” The little girl smiled again. “I’m sorry they took them. The Hunters are bad people. The one they work for, I used to think he was just a story the elders told us to make us behave. But then people
Similar Books
