Gena Showalter - [Lords of the Underworld 13] (14 page)

Then, of course, Green and White had found him and walked away, leaving him to his agony until Tink had found him.

He owed all four a little payback. With knives.

The five-person gang smoked cigars and drained shots of whiskey as they studied their cards. Synda tugged from Kane’s hold and skipped to the bar, where she ordered “my regular.” Tink remained by his side, unsure.

“What are you doing here?” Kane demanded.

“What else? You forced me!” she snapped.

“Not you, sweetheart.”

William glanced up, grinned and waved him over, not the least surprised to see him. “Kane, my boy. We’re playing hard. But not as hard as you, it seems. Two women? Really? I’m shocked Kanie the Prude can manage so much estrogen at the same time.”

White and her brothers looked over at him. In unison, the three guys pushed back their chairs and stood, glaring at him with murderous rage. White went back to studying her cards.

“Down,” William commanded easily. “Now isn’t the time for a battle royale.”

“When?” Red insisted.

“When I say so. I feel like finishing our game first.” Though William wore a T-shirt that read DADD: Dudes Against Daughters Dating, and it was difficult to take him seriously, the three obeyed without protest. But even still, Kane was never taken out of their cross hairs.

Black cracked his knuckles. “Today, demon, you die.”

He couldn’t help but grumble, “I wish you had rotted in hell, I really do.”

“I’m getting the impression he doesn’t like us,” White said, blowing out a puff of smoke. She flipped her cascade of pale hair over her shoulder. “I’m very okay with that.”

“What are you playing?” Synda asked, closing the distance and, without waiting for an invitation, plopping herself on Red’s lap.

Uncharacteristically patient, the dark-haired male with eyes of the cruelest blue settled her more comfortably against him and began to explain the game.

In that moment, Kane knew she couldn’t be the female for him, no matter that she was the keeper of Irresponsibility, and no matter what the Moirai had meant. He felt no sense of jealousy or possession.

Would there be consequences if she was the one and he blew her off? Maybe.

Did he care? No.

The woman in Danika’s painting had been blonde. White was also blonde, but while William’s daughter was lovely and strong, Kane absolutely despised her and that wasn’t going to change.

Tink, however, continued to interest him greatly. But if she was the one for him, why did he continue to ache when he neared her? And who was the blonde in the painting? What did she mean to him?

Kane pulled up a chair beside William, and forced Tink to sit in his lap. He wanted her nearby, wanted his hands on her to prevent her from running, and wanted to ensure every man knew to keep his grubby paws off her. The action ensured Kane received all three at once. Screw the pain, he thought. Yeah, it had bothered him less today, but now, he just flat-out didn’t care.

“How’d they get free of hell?” he asked, even as Disaster screamed a protest about the seating arrangement.

William shrugged his massive shoulders before tossing his cards on the table. He faced Kane. “I thought you could use a bit of help. You didn’t want your friends knowing what you were up to, so my own brood of vipers was my only option.”

“That tells me nothing.”

“Nor was it meant to. I sprang them early, and that’s all you need to know.”

“Fair enough. But answer me this. Why are you playing cards with them instead of helping me?”

Another shrug. “We heard about your engagement, and figured all was well.”

“You could have checked in.”

“Yeah. I could have, and I even thought about it. And it’s the thought that counts, right?”

“No. No, it’s not.”

William claimed a cigar from White, and took a drag. Smoke puffed around him as he said, “Clearly I have more faith in you than you have in yourself. You’re welcome.”

Ashes drifted from the cigar and should have fallen to the floor. Disaster ensured they fell on Kane’s arm and leg, burning little holes in his clothing and singeing his skin.

Tink pressed a hand against her heart. “That’s so sweet of you to say, sir. What a kind man you are.”

Kane looked at her and did a double take. She was serious, he realized, and she was gazing at William as if he were everything she’d ever wanted but had never really thought she could have. Razors of jealousy cut through Kane and calmed the demon.

“Did you hear stories about him, too?” he demanded.

“No. I can just tell you’re lucky to have a friend like him.”

“William’s not sweet,” he gritted. “I’ve seen the bloody results of his temper tantrums.”

“And I’ve heard of the bloody results of yours,” she quipped.

William beamed up at her. “I like you.”

“I’m glad, because I have a proposition for you,” she said to him.

“No, she doesn’t.” Kane squeezed her tight, silencing her.

“Go on. I’m listening,” William prompted.

“The night I left you in that club, I went looking for a key into Séduire,” Kane said before Tink could decide to talk over him. She was stubborn like that. “All the while, you clearly already had one.”

“Nah. I would have flashed here, but I had to buy one for my kiddies,” the warrior said.

“By
buy
he means
steal,
” Red said, not even bothering to look over at them. “And by
steal
I mean
kill for
.”

Stated so simply, it was a testament to the hardness of the warrior’s heart. To the savage lengths these men would go to get what they wanted.
Bring it.

“Your kids—” even saying the word in conjunction with the powerful warrior felt odd “—were okay with coming here and helping me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Grinning all over again, William waved the question away. “You heard the part about the battle royale, right? No, they weren’t okay with helping you. I had to promise they could have a real down and dirty brawl with you, with blood and broken bones and maybe missing body parts. It’s going to be great!”

Tink melted against Kane, as if trying to use her body as a shield to protect him. The scratchy material of her uniform irritated his exposed skin. How could she stand wearing that thing?

Every glass on the table shattered, liquid spilling, warriors cursing.

“When is this fight to take place?” Kane asked, unperturbed.

“Have you not been listening to anything I’ve said?” William dabbed at the wet stain on his leg. “After the game.”

He thought for a moment. “I would love nothing more than to engage your spawn in a showdown. Tink—uh, I mean, Josephina—and I will be back by the time your game is through.” He actually wanted to take her shopping more than he wanted his revenge. She wasn’t going to wear rags while everyone around her wore riches.

Anyone who didn’t know Kane might have thought he planned to run away. But William knew him better than that. “And Tink is what you call her? Really? I would have chosen Ivanna B. Withwilly. What? It’s a good, solid name.”

Can’t respond to that. Will just encourage him.
“Meanwhile,” Kane gritted, “the princess is your responsibility. Don’t let her get into any trouble.”

William thought for a moment, nodded. “You do remember that I like to sleep with my responsibilities, right?”

Yeah. He did. “I also know you’ll be tempted to throw her to the wolves once you get to know her, but don’t harm her or let anyone else do so, either.” The king would protest, and Tink would be liable.

“So...you’re saying you won’t mind if I seduce your future wife?”

“I wouldn’t mind, but I don’t want you to go that far. She could get in trouble, and they’ll try to make Tink bear the punishment. So, feel free to flirt with her, even make out a little, if she wants, but no more than that.” Synda would be amused, and stay out of trouble.

Two birds, one kinky stone.

William placed a hand over his heart. “I think you just moved to the top of my best-friend-forever list.”

Kane rolled his eyes, stood, and held out his hand. “You got a revolver or semi I can borrow?”

“Borrow? No. Pay to use for a short time? Yes.” The warrior slapped a .44 in his hand. “I’ll let you know the price tag later.”

“Thanks.” Kane stashed the weapon at the back of his waist and ushered Tink out of the bar. Chairs scraped the ground, and he knew the three males, and maybe even White, had just stood, intending to come after him.

He heard William say, “Settle down. He’s coming back, and then he’s yours.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

J
OSEPHINA
HAD
NO
idea what was going on. “Where are you taking me?”

“Shopping.”

“Shopping? Without Synda?”

“And then the fight,” he continued, as if she hadn’t spoken.

“But it’ll be three against one,” she squeaked.

“I know. It’s hardly fair for William’s kids, but they’re insisting so what can I do?”

They walked away from the black-haired devil with eyes so cold and Fae-like she’d known he would deliver a deathblow to a female without pausing to ask questions. He was the answer to her problems. Now, however, she looked back at him with dismay.

He winked at her.

She scowled at him. He was okay with Kane getting hurt, and that made him unacceptable on every level.

Kane forced her to clear the door of the tavern and enter the daylight. The streets were a little more congested with horse-drawn carriages, and the pathways littered with chattering Opulens and the servants trailing a few feet behind them. The moment a gaze landed on Josephina, any gaze, it darted away. Voices tapered to quiet, and bodies inched out of reach, as if touching her would cause some kind of disease.

“What is such a magnificent man doing with
her?
” one of the Opulens said to her friend.

“Males do like to slum it upon occasion.”

Josephina tugged against Kane’s grip, a puny motion, really, but one he allowed to slow him nonetheless.

“Shut your mouths before I do it for you,” Kane snapped.

They shrieked at his vehemence and ran away.

Josephina blinked with surprise. “
Why
are we shopping without Synda?” she asked, trying again.

Again he ignored the question. “They’re treating you like a whore, and it’s going to get them killed.”

“To them, I’m a human servant without a mistress in sight. I have no business being in this part of town, alone with a man, unless I’m getting boned by him on a daily basis.”

One of his brows arched. “Boned. Who taught you to talk like that?”

“You! I studied you and your friends for years, remember, and picked up on your verbal cues.”

He massaged the back of his neck, and she wasn’t sure whether he was fighting a smile or a scowl. “I hate the double standard here. Those same women would have stripped for me just last night, and I wouldn’t have had to speak a word.”

She gaped at him. “Uh, maybe we should get a bag for your ego. That might make it easier for you to carry it around.”

His lips twitched for several seconds—definitely fighting a smile. “Let’s get you out of sight before I gouge out a few eyes and dangle them from a necklace I’ll be presenting to you as a gift.”

I would totally wear that.

They leaped back into motion. He bypassed the shoe shop, the ribbon store, the millinery and stopped in front of one of the dressmakers.

With his hand on the doorknob, he said, “What do the Fae use as money?”

“You might find this hard to believe, but...money.”

Another twitch, before his frown returned. “What happens if someone touches the skin on your face or your shoulders?” As he spoke, his gaze traced the areas in question—and glinted with hunger. “The same thing that happens when they touch your hands?”

Her ability to breathe abandoned her. Was he thinking about touching her here, now? Her blood heated, and her knees almost buckled. “No. My hands are the only problem.”

Did that needy voice belong to her?

“And you know this because...”

“Because I had a mother, and she told me so. Back then, I couldn’t control what happened with my hands—” and still might not be able to “—but nothing ever happened when she helped me dress.”

He lifted his hand, his fingers closing in on her face. A tremor shook her. Any second now...

Two giggling girls walked past them.

Cursing, he dropped his arm to his side. “Okay, then.” He stalked into the small building, tugging her behind him. A bell tinkled overhead. The scent of floral perfume hit her first, the preferred fragrance of the Opulens and one she despised. Kane clearly felt the same. He wrinkled his nose and pursed his lips—and he looked utterly adorable doing it.

I’ve got to get this...whatever it is under control.

An older woman with silver hair and typical Fae eyes sauntered out from the back. She wore the current fashion, an elaborate gown of yellow silk, material twisted along the belled skirt to form a bouquet of roses. Her skin was lined from a life of hard work. Like Josephina, she was half Fae, half human, but unlike Josephina, she would age to her death. The human part of her was clearly stronger than the Fae.

“I’m Rhoda, the owner,” she said, the words slow and precise. Her expression brightened. “And you’re...you’re...
you
. How may I help you, Lord Kane? Anything you desire is yours.”

“I want her,” Kane said, dragging Josephina forward and forcing her to stand in front of him. He placed his hands on her shoulders to ensure she wouldn’t bolt, a tremble spilling from him and into her. “Better dressed.”

Maybe it was irrational, but once the initial shock wore off, she experienced a sudden urge to cry. She wasn’t good enough as she was. Her father had told her. The queen had told her. Now, Kane’s actions told her. The mighty Lord of the Underworld beloved by all didn’t want to be seen with a servant wearing rags.

Her gaze met his in the mirror across the room, and he frowned.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded.

I can hold it together.
At least for a little while. Later, she would probably hide under her covers. “Don’t worry. I’ll walk behind you from now on. You won’t have to be seen with me.”

His fingers dug into her. “Sweetheart, I don’t like the way this material chafes your skin. It’s too pretty to be streaked with red.”

Oh. My.

* * *

K
ANE
TIGHTENED
HIS
grip on Tink, and the trembling in his hands increased.

He wanted this woman.
So bad.

He wished he were the man he used to be. He would have laughed and flirted with her, relaxing her. He would have charmed her, delighted her. She would have welcomed his attentions—would have even begged for them. Instead, he’d hurt her feelings in the worst way.

“Please, let me do this for you,” he said.

She turned and faced him, peering up at him with those electric blues he should have found as unappealing as all the others, but...hers were different.

He liked that they changed colors with her moods. Liked that right now they were laced with multiple shades of blue. A mix of light blue, dark blue and something in between, creating a sort of poetry, a kaleidoscope of loveliness no one would ever be able to re-create.

“It’s a wonderful gesture, and I am beyond grateful, but you can’t. I can’t wear anything but my uniform. If I do, everyone will have permission to tear the clothing off me—no matter where I am or who I’m with.”

And she would end up naked. As beautiful and naturally sensual as she was, the men around her would gawk, possibly reach out and touch her. Possibly even try to do more.

A bead of rage rolled through him, growing larger the deeper it reached.

He looked to Rhoda. “Make her a new uniform, just in softer, better quality material. And add pockets. Lots of pockets.” He wanted her armed and at the ready at all times. Prepared—as he hadn’t been. “Can you finish it within a couple hours? I want her to leave wearing it.”

“Of course, of course, that’s what I’m known for” was the reply. “I hate to bring this up to so distinguished a customer, but...how will you pay, my lord?”

“With this.” He withdrew the wad of cash he’d stuffed in his boot before beginning this journey.

Rhoda nodded. “Very good. I’ll take her back and—”

“No. She stays within my sight at all times.”

Tink flattened her gloved hands on his chest, and he responded instantly. His heart sped into a now familiar beat, and the increased flow of blood caused his body to ready for her. For all the things he wanted to do to her.

It was painful. Far more than before. It was pleasurable. Far more than he was willing to admit.

The need he felt for her...the edge of it sharpened daily, hourly, and if he wasn’t careful, it would soon cut through him, severing the ties of his good sense, his better intentions, and his concern for the complications.

Disaster roared with fury.
Hate her! Leave her!

Kill you,
Kane roared back.

Rolls of fabric tumbled from a table to the floor, the heavy spools hitting Kane’s feet with a surprisingly harsh thud.

“I’m so sorry,” Rhoda said, rushing to clean up the mess. “I’m not sure what happened.”

Adamant, Josephina shook her head. “I can’t disrobe in front of you.”

“Why not?” But he already knew the answer. They weren’t lovers. They weren’t even friends, not really. She would be vulnerable. He couldn’t promise not to look. Like the men he’d just disdained, he would look.

He should be ashamed. He’d picked up on a bit of palace gossip and knew her mother, who’d been considered a lowly human, had been the king’s mistress. He knew her mother had been taunted, and suspected she had even been shunned. Any hint of impropriety had to remind Tink of her mother’s anguish. Perhaps even make her feel she deserved the cruel words the two Opulens had uttered outside.

But she didn’t. That kind of thinking had to stop—now.

“I just can’t,” she insisted.

“You can. You will. Like I said, I don’t want you out of my sight, even for a second.”

“Kane...”

A pleading tone. One he might have heeded if she had been underneath him—
have to get her underneath me
. He gritted his teeth. “Keep arguing with me. I’ll find another way to change your mind. A far more intimate way.”

Her eyes widened. “You can’t.”

He leaned down until his lips hovered just over hers. “Try me. Please.”

Red infused her cheeks and she glanced back at the shop owner.

How could he have forgotten about Rhoda?

Straightening, he met the older woman’s shrewd stare. “Where she goes, I go, and that’s non-negotiable.”

A nod, and the woman turned away, saying, “Please, follow me.”

Kane peered down at Tink. “This is for your own good, I promise you. I can’t take the chance you’ll leave, and I won’t allow anyone to hurt you.”

“That’s great, wonderful, but this is going to ruin my reputation,” she muttered. “Worse than it already has.”

“I’m sorry for that.” But it had to be done. “I’ll think of something to fix it.”

“Before or after men start seeing me as more than a blood slave?”

A direct hit. Jealousy bloomed, hot and razor-sharp. “That happens, and men will start dying.”

“But—”

“Sweetheart, I need you to stop stalling.” He gave her a little push, forcing her to move forward. He trailed behind her. They entered a small room in back, where another girl bustled about, moving drapes of fabric out of the way, revealing a chair for Kane and a stepstool for Josephina.

A stepstool perched in front of a three-sided mirror.

He eased into the cushioned seat. A pin stuck him in the back, and he grimaced.

In record time, Tink was stripped to bra and panties, and he noticed both garments were woven from plain white cotton. Molding to her. Hiding the details of her femininity from him...begging him to seek. He was unable to cloak his reaction, every inch of him hardening. Her body was a work of art, slender, yet so beautifully curved. Bronzed to perfection, without any kind of tan line. Toned from the amount of work she was forced to do every day.

He gripped the edges of his chair to keep from reaching for her.

He could help himself. He could.

The seamstress attempted to remove Tink’s gloves, but she shook her head.

“They stay.”

Rhoda looked to him for confirmation.

He nodded. Maybe Tink could control her ability to absorb another person’s strength and abilities, maybe she couldn’t, but they wouldn’t be taking any chances until he found out.

Tonight, he would find out.

She would have to put her hands on him. On his skin.

The arms of the chair cracked.

Tink was measured and fitted with different fabrics to discover which one felt the best to her. Once the decision was made, the two seamstresses began the arduous process of cutting and sewing the dress.

Toward the end, Tink’s stomach began to growl.

“Hungry?” he asked, with a tinge of guilt. He should have fed her before bringing her here. Being classified as a servant, she probably wasn’t given proper meals.

Disaster chuckled with delight.

Never again,
Kane thought.

“I’m starved,” she replied, still not daring to meet his gaze.

“I have food,” Rhoda said, and waved her assistant away.

The girl puttered from the room, returning several minutes later with a rolling cart piled with sandwiches, cookies and a pitcher of tea.

Tink appeared dazed. “For me? Really?”

How eager she sounded, when such treatment should have been an everyday occurrence for her.

Should, should, should.
He was already sick of the word. From now on, he was going to take such good care of her.

“For you,” he said.

Holding the new, as yet unfinished dress to her chest with one hand, she reached out with the other and claimed a sandwich. He watched her as she ate, the way her eyes closed in surrender, the way a smile curled the corners of her lips, the way she chewed and savored.

So lovely. So sensual, even without meaning to be.
So mine...

His skin prickled, and maybe he moved. Maybe he spoke. Her gaze lifted to meet his. Her lips parted on a startled exhalation. Could she see the rawness of his need?

“Kane.” A breathy entreaty.

In that moment, the cry of the demon ceased to matter. The past faded, leaving only the present...the future, and the unstoppable tide of the pleasure to come. Every bone vibrated. He needed to get inside her. Here. Now.