Awakening Kiss (Watcher's Kiss Book 4) (3 page)

“Yes, and you know exactly how we got here.” He spoke as if he were talking to a five-year-old.

“No. No I don’t.” She lowered her voice, not wanting to antagonize him. And god, those huge muscles. He could probably break her arms. She needed to work with whatever weirdness he was going to spout off.

He scrubbed a hand over his square jaw and glowered. “What are you hiding?”

“N-nothing.” Was that a knife holstered to his arm? Shit! Despite the muggy night, a cold sweat broke out on her forehead and she pushed back a wave of dizziness.

A noise escaped his throat that sounded a lot like a growl. “Tell me what you were doing back there.” In the darkness, his eyes seemed to get a little brighter.

Those eyes…his talk of elves…Memories of fairy tales and nightmare creatures rushed back at her from childhood stories that were supposed to be, well, stories. But sudden awful questions loomed in her mind. Fear uncurled, raw and powerful, and she couldn’t stand there a minute longer.

She turned and bolted.

And got about ten feet away before strong hands gripped her waist. “Don’t try to run from me.” Warm breath ghosted over her neck. “You will never, ever, succeed. Are we clear?”

She gulped. He was fast. And his arms locked around her body felt as solid as iron. She wouldn’t get away by speed alone. “Please don’t hurt me,” she whispered, fighting back a sob. “I really don’t know what’s going on. If I did, I would tell you, I swear.”

He released her and she whirled, on edge and not wanting to turn her back on him again. Her leg muscles wobbled but she fought to stay upright, too much adrenaline zooming through her veins to allow her to relax. God, why hadn’t she gone to that kickboxing class with Meena? Or at least gone to the self-defense sessions that her college had offered periodically?

His eyes narrowed. “You okay?”

“Sure,” she replied cautiously. “For getting flung through a weird black hole and dumped somewhere thirty miles away, then being called a liar and restrained by a stranger.”

He scowled. “You done?”

She lowered her gaze to his hands. “Can you call someone to come get me? I um, I must have lost my phone.”

“I can.” He ran a hand through his short hair. “But not yet.”

Oh no. What did he want? “Please…” Instinctively she backed up.

“I won’t hurt you. I just need some answers.” He scanned the trees. “I can stay here all night.”

Her jaw dropped. All night? “I…”

“It’s warm. No predators. Unless you have more friends lurking out here. Though I wouldn’t advise siccing them on me.” A threatening note crept into his tone.

All night. Predators or non-human, fantastical creatures. Enza’s vision swam and she couldn’t fight the jello effect that took over her legs. She dropped awkwardly to the grass. “Need to lay down for a…” She gulped air.
No.
She couldn’t do this. What the hell was going on? Her heart pounded heavily and her eyelids refused to stay open. “F-for a minute.” Her hands slid along the soft grass as blackness washed over her field of vision.

C
HAPTER
3

“A
H, FUCK.
”
R
HYS DARTED TO THE
female, catching her before she face-planted in the thick grass. Gently he rolled her to her side. Her skin was clammy. Long eyelashes fluttered as shallow breaths escaped her lips. He wasn’t sure if she’d passed out, but seemed like she was halfway there.

Conscious or not, she wasn’t going anywhere. Not that she would succeed if she tried. She couldn’t out run him, and he doubted she had the energy to hike out of this place. He crouched next to her and pulled out his phone. All the Watchers had an app that could quickly identify a creature’s race. And rarely had Rhys not been able to ID a female, but this one confounded him. Her scent was more human than supernatural. She claimed to know nothing, yet she’d locked on to the portal like a lifeline. He’d
seen her
. Then there was the screaming fact that she smelled like a bakery, and not from a brief stop to pick up sweets and dash out the door. No, the scents of sugar, butter, and dough layered heavily around her like an aromatic mist. Something didn’t add up.

He held up his phone and swiped to start the app. Seconds ticked as she lay, eyes closed. His screen flashed. “Deserati.”

Interesting.
Deserati demons were among the few predatory demons that could walk unobtrusively among humans. Though they had small horns and a tail, they also had the ability to “hide” them as if they weren’t even there. His eyes flicked to the female in the grass.

The phone abruptly went dark and he glared at it. “What the—” But the thing blinked on with a new word. “Human.”

Rhys stared. Made on Torth, his phone didn’t glitch like the ones on Earth. The display darkened, then lit up again. “Deserati.”

Then again. “Human.”

He shifted his focus to her as surprise drop-kicked his earlier suspicion. Not what he expected…

The demonic and fae species from Torth could cross mate. And if they had any children, the kiddos would be either one species or the other—not a blend of the two.

But when human physiology entered the mix, all bets went out the window. A demon and human, or a fairy and a human, could produce a half-breed offspring. No one knew how many existed, since they could blend in among Earth’s population. Some may not even know their true heritage. He studied the soft curve of her lower lip, and that mouth that had just sworn up and down that she didn’t know how they got here.

The female let out a sigh and flexed her fingers into the grass. Rhys fought an insane, out-of-nowhere urge to comfort her. She could be an enemy. She could be a liar…though her confusion had seemed real enough. And he’d seen plenty of creatures scared shitless, usually on the other end of his sword or demonfire. He recognized fear.

But what he couldn’t tell from her was if it was fear of being caught, or fear of the unknown. He wasn’t always the best judge of character, especially when it came to females asking questions.

He scowled and dialed Brenin, who answered on the first ring. “Yo. Where are you?”

“The fucking Arboretum.”

“Huh. Not where I would think to look for dark elves.”

“No shit.”

“The female there with you?”

Rhys looked down at her pale skin, clear to him with his enhanced night vision. “Yeah. She passed out. We need a pick up.”

“You’re not that far. I’ll bring an extra amulet—”

“No. Bring the Escalade.”

“Why?”

“Something’s off. She claims she didn’t know shit about the elves or the portal. And get this—when I scanned her just now, my phone kept flashing back and forth between Deserati and human.”

Brenin let out a whistle. “No shit.”

“Yeah.” He paused. “She might be telling the truth.” He hoped she was, because the idea that she may have made up a bunch of innocent—act lies pissed him off.

“Dude, she ran straight for that portal.”

“I fucking know that,” Rhys growled. “Listen, I’ll wake her up and try to get her to talk while you’re driving out here.” He gave Brenin his coordinates.

“See you soon.” Brenin ended the call.

Rhys tilted his head at the female lying in the grass. She was pretty, with thick dark hair cascading halfway down her back. He chanced touching her, threading his fingers into the tresses above her ears to check for horns. If she was hiding them magically, he’d be able to feel them even if he couldn’t see them.

No horns. Only the softest hair he’d ever touched. As the silken strands slid through his fingers, the scents of sugar and bread wafted to his nose.

Shit. He yanked his hand back. No horns. All Deserati had them. All
full
Deserati…

Mystery pulsed around her like a tangible thing. But whatever she was, he had no business thinking about her hair when she could be an enemy.

Yet something told him she wasn’t. She was completely vulnerable right now, another trait that predators usually had drilled out of them. A simple portal trip shouldn’t have caused this reaction. He reached for her hands, turning them over. No scars or callouses from a habit of wielding a blade. Just soft hands, with a sliver of…flour under one fingernail. Flour? He forced down a smile. Predatory demons didn’t need to eat every day.

Her face held a fear before and now in near-unconsciousness, a sweetness that he didn’t think a lying, spying demoness would have. Her body wasn’t fat or thin. Not muscular and toned, like most predatory females. Just soft, with curves he tried not to think about.

He shifted back. The last thing he wanted was for her to come to and see him ogling her.

A sharp intake of breath drew his attention back to the moment. She blinked up, dark eyes wide as recognition and then fright flared in their depths. With a yelp, she scooted back on her ass.

He watched her movements. Awkward. A trained Deserati demoness would have leaped up into a fighting stance. Rhys wasn’t about to let his guard down, but his wariness made way for a wide streak of curiosity.

“Please don’t hurt me.” Her whispered words trembled.

“I won’t.” He kept his voice neutral, not reassuring, not harsh. She was still a big question mark. “Unless, like I said, you give me a reason to.”

“Me? W-what could I do?” She shoved a hand through the thick mass of her hair. “I-I just want to go home.”

Rhys settled on the grass, one knee bent. “And where’s that?”

“Wicker Park.” She slowly pushed up to a sitting position, eyes cautious.

A warm night breeze caught a lock of wavy hair and blew it across her lashes. The gentrifying Chicago neighborhood wasn’t the answer he expected. Somewhere in the demon realm, maybe, but not the mix of new and run-down buildings not too far from that alley. “Wicker Park. You walk home to that neighborhood alone at night?”

She frowned. “Yeah, so? What about you? You were the one fighting in the scary alley.”

He raised an eyebrow. Thought about pointing out that she was the one running like the wind in that same scary alley, but then he paused. If she was a halfling, if she thought she was human, then she wouldn’t necessarily have the strength to fight off one man, let alone three. She would be terrified and yeah, would run exactly like she had. He decided to just answer her question without mentioning anything supernatural. “My friend and I came across some guys fighting. Two were smaller than the rest, at a disadvantage, so we intervened.”

She scrunched her nose. “Why get involved in someone else’s fight? You could get killed. Gangs have all kinds of knives and guns.”

He held her gaze. “You know, we didn’t really think about it. We just did it.” She didn’t need to know it was their job—yet.

“Hmm.” Her eyes roamed his arms and chest. “You’re lucky. You don’t look like you got hurt.”

Because the stab wounds had already healed. “Nope. And the two smaller dudes ran off.” And damn, he liked her eyes on him.

A flicker of caution curled through his brain.
Liked her eyes?
Where had that come from?

She drew her knees in close to her chest. “Why did you grab me? And I still don’t understand how we got here.”

He let out a slow breath, gauging how much to reveal. “We got here through a portal. It’s a method of travel.”

“For who?” She turned an increduous stare on him.

He studied her face for any tells that she was lying. “You were running straight for it. Are you saying you didn’t know what it was?”

“I was running to get away from those men. And I saw you and the other guys fighting. I couldn’t turn around because the others were behind me. I thought I could pass all of you by. I don’t know. And I saw…” She paused as if searching for the right words. “It looked like a mirage, the kind you see above the street on hot days. Like wavering air. I didn’t think it was anything. Just, you know, air. What else would it be?” Her voice took on a defeated edge.

“A portal takes you through time and space in seconds. They have destinations, chosen by whoever opens them.” Rhys measured his words. Gods, she looked so lost.

She gaped at him like she didn’t know whether to cry or hit him. “That doesn’t make any sense,” she whispered.

If she had been a regular human, who’d accidentally ran into the middle of his fight, he’d let her go her own way and think it was simply human men fighting. Gangs, or whatever. But if she wasn’t fully human, and carried a predator’s blood in her veins, she should know as soon as possible. Though given her reactions so far, a crash course might not be the best idea. He rubbed a hand over his hair, sensing he had a small window to say the right words and start to build a possible, though fragile, trust. “Sounds like tonight has been a lot to take in. Let’s back up. I’m Rhys.”

“Rhys…” She said his name slowly, as if testing it out, repeating his pronunciation of
Reece
.

“Yup.”

“Rhys what?”

“MacLeod.” He gave the name he used on Earth whenever dealing with humans necessitated one, though most of Torth’s creatures only used one name. “You?”

“Enza De Luca.”

“Enza? That’s not too common.”

“It’s short for Vincenza.”

He nodded, putting the name with the dark hair and eyes. “Italian.”

She gave him a bravely withering look. “Not too hard to figure that one out.”

Touche.
“It’s a nice name.”

“Thanks. Well, Rhys, this has been fun, but I want to go home.” She brushed some grass off her knees, her tone confident. But the still-rapid beating of her heart betrayed her trepidation.

“My friend is on his way. He’ll take us back to the city.”

“Your friend?” Her eyebrows shot up. “You think I’m going to get in a car with two strange men and hope I get home in one piece? After everything else that happened tonight?” She shook her head and extended her hand. “Let me call my mom, please.”

“Sorry, no can do.” He tried to look disappointed. “Phone battery died.” It hadn’t, but her panic would surely return if she saw his phone, with its Demonish symbols and apps.

She made an angry, frustrated noise. “Well, I’m not going with you.”