“That’s right,” he said as one hand broke free from the wall and clenched her thigh just below her ass. “Look up at me like you want me to kiss you.”
She did. Let her gaze lift to his, her lips linger a breath against his. He leaned closer, even cupped his hand on her cheek. “Close your eyes.” Once she did, he spoke. “You’re going to jog out of here. Four blocks down, you take a right. Second store you go in, ask to use the bathroom.” His lips whispered across hers but never touched. “In that bathroom there is a change of clothes, a wig, ID, and money. Once you’re dressed, you wait for the bus. When it comes you walk out calmly, get on it, and head straight to the airport. Your ticket is there.”
“Where are you sending me?” she whispered, knowing that questioning him was a dangerous thing to do.
“Away from unmarked cars and dime store witches.” He leaned away. Winked. “Go on now, be a good girl.”
A forlorn look masked her confused expression.
Talon slapped her ass and nodded, made sure a sexy little smile was on his lips, telling her to go on.
Amber took off, looked both ways as she reached the end of the alley, then ran the way he told her to.
Talon waited a second, then made his way out. When he got to his bike, he could see Thrash was clearly stuck somewhere in his head.
“What the fuck, man?” Talon said to him as he sat astride his bike.
“I got you.”
“We good?” Talon asked, looking around seeing that they were.
“Fucking peachy.”
Talon grinned, inhaled the rush he felt come over him. He dug teasing this line of danger. He nodded his chin at Thrash. “You gonna be an ass when we get back?”
“I’m not fucking talking about it,” Thrash said with a glare.
“You have to talk to the kid, man.”
“And say what? Hi, I’m your low life fucking father that was never there for you. It is what it is kid. Get the fuck over it.”
Talon shook his head, knowing exactly where that was coming from. “You’re not him. You’re not your old man. You didn’t step out on that kid. You didn’t know, and if you did, you would have been there. Fucking father of the century.”
Thrash looked away, clenched his jaw.
“Look man, you fuck with a witch, one that’s immortal, it’s not an easy road. You think I understand half the shit Reveca pulls? I don’t, but I know one thing—if she pulled something like that on me, she’d have a damned good reason.”
“There is no excuse for this. The kid is almost a man.”
“And you’re a fucking immortal, a warrior. You live for the fight. Seventeen years ain’t shit. You pissed you didn’t get to change diapers? This is your time now, make a man out of him.”
“Where the fuck is Evanthe?” Thrash said with a pain in his voice that only Talon would recognize.
“Considering how calm Reveca is, more than likely right where she wants to be. Nothing is going to hurt her. She has always fought this war differently from us.”
Thrash didn’t bother answering as he roared his bike to life and took off in the opposite direction of where they sent Amber. Talon was right behind him.
The party was still thriving when they got back to the Boneyard, but Talon was done for the night. If he went in the lounge, if he saw Tisk, he’d lose his cool. He was still plotting the perfect way to deal with that cunt.
At the house, on the second floor, he saw Gwinn’s door open. She was on the floor, Bastion just beside her, playing with some kind of magic. King was perched on the windowsill, watching. He made sure he broke his concentration on the little witchling to glare at him though, in that smug King way, the one that made you think he knew more than he was saying.
Holding his calm, Talon made his way to his room.
When he opened the door, he found Reveca staring at the chest on the dresser once more. She was plotting something, her next move, had to be. It was the second time he’d caught her right there.
He gave her a tight smile as he took his kut off, pushed out of his boots. Then he made his way to the bed, sat on the edge of it, and leaned forward on his knees. Waiting for the shit storm he felt lurking in his woman’s mood.
“How’d it go with the kid?” he asked when she didn’t say anything.
“Good. Evanthe is in the pages.”
Talon jerked his stare to her. It didn’t matter how long he lived, this witch shit still freaked him out. How they could say shit like that as if it was no big deal he’d never fathom.
Reveca tried to get him more comfortable with the craft, sure as hell taught him enough of it, but still—this chick was in a book? How the fuck was he supposed to fight that? He and Thrash needed someone to kill. Yesterday.
“She’s stopping the words. Whoever is making this drug…they’re not going to be able to anymore. Not in the same way at least, not with those words.”
“She plan on coming out of that book? Or do we just find her and store her on some shelf, wave as we walk by.”
Reveca almost smiled, but didn’t, telling him her mind was in a million places right now.
“She’ll come out when the book is with the coven, when those who know the words have perished.”
“That’s easy. Where is it?”
“The Black guy took it. He has to be within fifty miles of the core of the coven or the book will burn.”
“And the core is where exactly?”
“Jamison’s house.”
“Sure,” Talon said, shaking his head.
“I’m going to have to break into my sister’s, read up on this. Evanthe’s father did something like this, but I’m worried this modern world might not make it as effective.”
“Break in?” Talon questioned, looking up at her. “You haven’t spoken to her since you saw Crass.”
“I don’t need her shit.”
“And what shit is that? What is she holding over your head?”
Reveca shook off the question.
“Right,” Talon said, jerking his stare from her. He had a good mind to talk to Saige himself and ask her what her fucking deal was. He already knew King and Reveca had history, it’s not like anything Saige would say could be more groundbreaking.
“We gonna talk about Amber?” Reveca said after a tense moment.
Talon let a sarcastic smirk come to him as he met her stare once more. “We gonna talk about King? About how you and him are all mom and dad to the strays that this Club has taken in—you know, the ones your family sent here, the family that sees me as a chew toy. The one that is obviously fucking with your head all over again.”
There it was—that rage. No one could make rage look as sexy as Reveca. She was never dramatic about it, it was her eyes, how the gray turned cold, how that stare turned into daggers.
“Strays? Every one of us are strays, defiant, bold, and free. And we found a home here. GranDee never cast a dark thought your way, and her last request was for us to bring Gwinn into our fold. Bastion? Son to Thrash. This was always his home, by birthright alone.”
“And King?” Talon said coolly, purposely pushing her buttons.
“And Cashton?” Reveca fired back.
“Gotta history with him too?”
“No, you asshat. My sister never gets her hands dirty. Cashton, apparently is destined to slay King. Saige decided to give good ol’ Cash a push in the right direction.”
Talon tilted his head back a bit, let that new information settle in. Let what he knew of King, of Cashton, replay in his mind. Cashton could be a fierce son of a bitch, but he wasn’t a killer. Talon doubted he would take a life unless he had a good reason, and some half-cocked myths laced in bullshit would not be a reason for him.
There was more to it. Had to be. Another layer of bullshit at least.
“In front of you? She’s a cold bitch, but not that cold. There is more to it.”
“Really? I ask you about Amber and we end up here. You wanted to know why Saige has them both h
ere? That’s my best guess. I don’t want to fucking believe it, but King is pretty damn sure about it.”
“So that’s his game? He tells you that he’s already on the edge of life and that good ol’ Cash, the most laid back one of all of us, is going to destroy him? Now you feel all sorry for him.”
“Fuck you, Talon. All this stems from a faith I don’t care to believe in. It stirs up shit I don’t want to deal with. I’m doing whatever I can to disprove it while dealing with this other shit. Now stop fucking deflecting. You’re hiding something.”
His dark eyes shot to hers. “Like what?”
“Like I see it.”
Talon clenched his jaw, looked down, and shook his head. He was trying to hide his angry smirk, the one that would always surface when he was furious because she was right.
He knew what she saw. Her.
When the near ritual fight of Amber came up, so did their beginning.
When he first met Reveca she was a lot like Amber. A troubled past, but not troubled enough to lose her innocence. There was dare to her, but she was terrified of it. Each time she came face to face with Talon she grew braver, more empowered. Then what he saw all along, deep in her eyes, emerged. Bold, beautiful…powerful. A life force that would intoxicate you with one touch.
“Yeah, well, maybe she does remind me of you. But that proves my point. I wanted someone I trusted in those clinics, especially after the shortages.”
“And that’s the only reason you hired her behind my back?”
He only glared for a moment. “She’s not as strong as you, Reveca. Us sending her out there just like that, she would have never made it.”
“So having her process drugs makes more sense?”
“It meant that someone was watching over her.”
“It meant that nosey bitches like Tisk would pick up on this. You made her a target.”
“And I dealt with it.”
Before Reveca had a chance to ask how or even take that argument to another level, there was a knock on their door, then it opened.
It was Knight.
“What the fuck, man?” Talon asked. He’d already made it to his feet, a reflex.
“Sorry, wasn’t thinking, but you gotta hear this.”
“What, more overdose bullshit?” Talon said.
“No,” Knight said lifting his brow. “That witness—she’s blackmailing the Club, says she has a video and if we don’t pay she’s turning it over.”
Talon glanced back at Reveca then looked at Knight. “Who the fuck do I have to kill.”
Reveca stepped to his side, wrapped her arm around his like he was a lion only she could tame. “No, babe, she’s all mine.”
This bitch was going to regret ever knowing Reveca Beauregard’s name.
Everyone knew crossing her, crossing her Club, was nothing less than suicidal.
Episode Seven
Chapter One
The worst thing about precise, calculated revenge was that it had to be just that. You had to have patience. Had to wait for the perfect moment to strike, wait for the stupid fucks that dared to cross you to think that you had forgotten all about their transgressions.
Reveca wasn’t going to give this witness—who apparently had a death wish—that much time. The three days Reveca had set aside thus far were vexing her as it was.
Talon had ordered Knight not to say a damn thing about the blackmail. They wanted to keep this close. They didn’t need the negative energy, and they needed everyone focused on the business at hand.
The night the email came in Knight had tracked it back, crashed the piece of shit laptop it came from with only one click on his keyboard. Since then he had tracked every account linked to the sender. All dead ends. Not in an ‘I’m awesome and have my own tech guy’ way, but in the way that said they didn’t pay any bills. All prepaid numbers, and when Knight figured out how to link them to an actual person, he found rundown slums where nothing but squatters resided.
The dumbass witness sent another email though, one that said she was not scared of a bunch of boys and bitches that played on bikes all day. She ended the email with some twisted text that was suppose to be a hex. Dime store crap as far as Reveca was concerned.
Knight kept toying with the witness though, asking for proof, asking to meet. So far, she had sent ten seconds of the video and all it showed was a girl whose legs were way too thin to be Reveca, wearing the same style boots, creeping up on a girl sitting on the side of an old grave.
This witness saw something—that ten seconds proved that—which meant when they did find her that Reveca was going to have to hesitate long enough before she killed her to figure out what that was and also to discern if she’d told anyone else what she knew.
Those ten seconds were a lead, though, that gave Knight a way to zero in on her. He was pulling every public feed he could, piecing them together to make his own virtual view of the graveyard. He was looking for some bitch with a camera aimed at a killer; apparently filming it was way cooler than doing something to stop it.
Between that and the long visits with Cartier, the Son’s lawyer, Reveca was done with sitting still—she had business to handle.
“You call me when you get a visual on this,” she said to Knight as she stood from the chair she had been in for hours. “I’m out.”
And she was. It was Sunday. If she still planned to break into her sister’s house, riffle through the family library, this was the best day to do it. The coven always gathered on Sunday for what looked like a big family dinner, and it was for the most part, but when the non-witches went about their night, and the children were sent to bed, the others had their little gatherings. It was always at Jamison’s house. Saige may skip out on the social part but she’d be there for the gathering, without question.
When Reveca stepped out onto her front porch she saw Star sitting on the rail, leaning back on the pillar with a guitar across her, staring in the direction of the garage.
“She has emerged,” Star said slyly.
“Busy.”
“You owe me a bottle of wine.”
“There is a whole fucking bar over there,” Reveca said with a playfully narrowed glare, and a nod toward the garage.
“Yeah but…” Star said with an exaggerated sigh. “If I get you to sit out here with me, drink a little, then maybe you will tell about that walking God over there,” she said with a nod to the lot.
King’s car, the Firebird, was outside the bay. It looked like he and Bastion had just taken it for a ride through the Boneyard. It was running, and King was under the hood looking at something. His shirt was off, his jeans were hung just so around his waist, and the sun was enjoying touching every ridged muscle of his chest.
As Reveca looked his way, he looked up, met her gaze, and let a sinful smirk emerge. She felt a jolt of energy wave over her—so deeply, so directly, that is was all she could do not to let out a moan.
That was his new trick.
Talon and Reveca had been hip to hip with Knight. If not with him, they were in their room plotting out all the ways the shit they were staring at could go down. The pair of them had been in every fight there was, side by side. They’d faced generations of twisted lawmen, greedy lowlifes, and backwoods murder mysteries. They knew the game, knew all the tricks, and wanted to make sure they were on the same page this time around. Because quite frankly, in the past, they had misread each other, more than once.
By discussing their family, their business, it kept arguments about the coven, about King—even Amber—on the back burner. All of that could simmer and be dealt with in due time as far as they were concerned. Family-Club first.
Yet even as big as their house was, their property, there was no way for Reveca not to pass King more than once each day. He started doing that wave of energy ‘I can give you an orgasm without even touching you’ thing two days ago, and didn’t care how close Talon was to her when he did it.
“The guy should have ‘I’m sex’ tattooed a
cross his forehead,” Star said. “Maybe not his forehead…might distract you from his eyes, his chest, yeah…that’d work.”
“I see that ring on your finger didn’t do shit to rein you in.”
“I’m fucking married, not blind. You think Taurus is not looking at what passes him by? Looking is legal, touching—death sentence—and that goes for both of us.” Star winked. “Besides, I’m not the one Mr. Sex is aiming that smirk at.”
Reveca didn’t say a word.
“What’s the history?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“And you suck at lying. He’s on your ‘do later’ list—why?”
Reveca tried to hide a grin but a small one came out anyway. “We’re going to need more than one bottle of wine to discuss that.”
“I was told there was a bar close by.”
The playful laugh that only Star could create in Reveca emerged. “Later, I gotta deal with something first.”
“Witch shit?”
“Yeah.”
“That boy’s mom is for real in a book?”
“So he claims. I gotta figure out which one is missing, see if I can find a way to locate it then get her out.”
“You can for real do that? Say some shit and some cloud of smoke shows you where the book is? Or do you need a crystal ball. Teach me your ways, Yoda!”
Star was serious when she told Gwinn she knew all about the witch deal. She had basically grown up with the Pentacle Sons.
Her father was one and as a teen she saw Reveca heal more than one fatal injury. When her dad landed himself with a wound Reveca could not heal with her magic, Reveca found him in her Edge and gave him the same choice she gave the others who found that path.
Immortality was not what he wanted. The light was claiming him, and he said he heard his lover’s voice within it. He told Reveca to watch out for his little girl, to keep her on the legit side. And Reveca did. She was sure Star was not blind and knew that Reveca and the others in the inner circle of the life were more than human, hadn’t aged a day as she grew up, but she didn’t ask so Reveca didn’t explain. Reveca knew people dealt with the supernatural in their own way, understood what they wanted to how they wanted to.