Lover Enslaved: Thieves of Aurion, Book 1 (14 page)

Anxious buzzing came from the mesh cage sitting on the backseat. Ducking his head inside the door, he scowled at Piper. “
What
?”

She batted her eyelashes and gave him a sugary smile. “Think you could speed things up and spring me out of here?”

“Sure. Not as if I’m busy or anything.” He hunkered next to the pile of bags and unzipped both his and Mara’s, looking for anything sharp enough to cut through the wire mesh. Thorough rifling coughed up nothing useful.

“Where the hell is a laser torch when you need it? Or a hacksaw? At this rate, I’d settle for a damn butter knife.” He growled and slammed Mara’s valise down.

“Are you done ranting?”

He plowed his fingers through his hair and looked at Piper. She tapped one booted foot against the floor of the cage and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Probably not,” he admitted.

“Grab the keys. They should do the trick.”

These smart females with their practical suggestions were making his ego shrink by the minute. He dug in his trouser pocket and extracted the key. While he sawed at the cage’s interlocking wires, Piper sat down and tucked her chin against her knees. Her eyes moved in tandem with the key’s serrated teeth.

“Guess I should thank you for saving my life. You know, other than being a thief, you’re not half bad.”

He paused long enough to give the sprite a wry lift of his eyebrow. “Thanks—I think. But it’s mostly Mara who deserves the credit. She was quite adamant about rescuing you.”

Piper’s head jerked up. “Really?” A beaming smile overtook her face. “I knew this nonsense about me driving her nuts was a bunch of bahooey. Seriously, how can anyone think such a thing? I’m freakin’
loveable
.”

Her adamancy provoked his grin. “How long has this love-hate relationship existed between you two?”

“Twelve years. Ever since she first came to work at the palace.”

The key’s teeth slipped, losing their grip on the wire.
Twelve years?
He figured the math quickly inside his head. Mara professed to be twenty-five. That meant she’d come under Nalia’s employ at the tender age of thirteen. Under the terms of the human-slave ban, Mara couldn’t have legally acquired a work permit until she reached seventeen.

Which meant Nalia was guilty of her own shady dealings regarding the law.

Dash mentally filed the useful info before he pried the key into the wire mesh and continued chiseling away. “Mara never mentioned the fact she’s worked at the palace that long.”

“Doesn’t surprise me. In case you didn’t notice, the girl isn’t exactly the sharing type. Hoards details about her private life like they’re precious jewels.” Piper flashed her teeth in a cocksure smile. “See how I did that? Precious jewels…you’re a thief. Get it?”

Because the sprite was a source of possible information on Mara, he played along. “By the gods, you’re clever.”

“I know.” Piper giggled.

The wire started to give and Dash sawed harder until the threads snapped and a gap emerged. He worked the key inside and bent the threads away from each other. “So Mara wasn’t much more than a kid when she started working at the palace.”

“Yep. That’s why I had to take her under my wing.” Piper snorted. “Not that she ever appreciated it. Swore she didn’t need any help fitting in around there.” The sprite hopped to her feet. She planted her hands on her hips and paced the cage. “
As if
. That girl had a major chip on her shoulder from day one. Sure, it was understandable considering everything, but the other servants didn’t give a hoot about the unfortunate circumstances of a human teenager.”

Unfortunate circumstances?
He opened his mouth, fully intent on asking her to elaborate. The tap of approaching footsteps cut him short. His muscles tightened reflexively, a condition honed by too many years eluding the enemy.
Son of a bitch.
Back in Mer’daca a mere twenty-four hours and already his nerves were getting the better of him.

“They’re tiny hidden filaments!”

His shoulders relaxed at the sound of Mara’s voice. He turned and took in the rosy flush in her high cheekbones, noting how excitement lent her face a youthful glow. “What the devil are you blabbering about?”

“The coloring in the water is supplied by tiny filaments fused in the head of the flutes. They release this special dye that disappears once it’s recycled inside the fountain. Isn’t that amazing?”

In that moment he could easily imagine her as a thirteen-year-old—inquisitive and full of life. What didn’t fit the image in his head was that same girl illegally employed to a conniving fairy queen.

~ * ~

Mara cinched the belt of the cloud-soft robe swaddled around her freshly scrubbed body and padded from the bathroom. A monogrammed garment bag was draped over the bed’s sky blue silk coverlet. Curiosity aroused, she ventured to the bag and examined the ornate scrolled letters stamped across the opaque silver plastic.
Crystal Dreams.

“It’s from the shop downstairs,” she said to no one in particular. Dash was sequestered in his room, doing gods knows what, and Piper was still out exploring the city. Amazing she had the energy, considering the excitement with the Gromache and all.

She pushed back the sleeves of her robe and reached for the zippered closure on the bag. Inside was the slinkiest little black dress she’d ever seen. A note dangled from the hanger.
Wear this tonight—D.

“Who the heck is
D
?” Her irritation percolated when it finally dawned on her. “Talk about presumption.” The last time someone handpicked her clothes for her she’d been crawling around in diapers.

Fisting the bag tight, she stalked to the door adjoining the next room and rapped hard. It was tempting to just bust into his room. His scruples certainly hadn’t stopped him from sneaking into hers. “What am I thinking? He has no scruples.”

Seconds later, the door slid open and disappeared inside the wall. Dash stepped into the empty space where the door used to be, looking far too yummy with his torso bared and gleaming with a light sheen of sweat.

It took a few minutes to find her tongue. “Why are you so sweaty?” The second the words escaped, Mara wished she could reel them back in.
Oh jeez, could I be less subtle
?

“You caught me in the middle of doing sit-ups.” He ran a hand over his chiseled abdominals in a lazy fashion. “Can’t have myself going to flab.”

Like there’s the remotest chance that’ll happen.
He was built like a god. An extremely well-endowed god, no less. She swallowed, moistening her suddenly dry mouth. Would she ever be able to look at him half naked without remembering the night he’d stood in the inn’s bathroom
fully
naked and sporting the mother of all erections?

Anxious to lure her mind away from that particular memory, she held up the garment bag. “Mind telling me what this is about?”

His hand dropped from his abdominals. “You needed an outfit.”

“Not to sound ungrateful or anything, but I have plenty of clothes in my valise.”

“Not the kind you’ll need for tonight.”

She scrunched her forehead. “What’s tonight?”

“Our first meeting with Jerrick.”

Hope and trepidation fluttered in her chest. “You found him?”

Dash shook his head. “Hence the reason you need to wear the dress.”

Her attention dropped to the garment bag and the sinful creation tucked inside. “I don’t understand. What does this have to do with anything?”

A slow smile tipped Dash’s mouth. “Trust me, you in that dress will draw Jerrick out of the woodwork.”

Indignation, sizzling hot, whipped through her. “Are you saying you’re going to use me as
bait
?”

“What’s the big deal? You did it with me and look how that turned out.”

Yeah, look how that turned out.
“But you were planned—quite thoroughly, I might add. It took me months to gather intel on you, and even then I still had to rent the gallery, put together the invitations to the opening, hire the couriers for delivering said invitations, coordinate the transportation with Ronan—”

Dash held up his hand, saving her brain from short-circuiting courtesy of the enormous amount of wordage spewing between her lips. “There’s a big difference this time. You’ve got me on your side.”

“Seriously, how
do
you carry that ego around without rupturing something?”

“Practice, babe, practice.” He pried the hanger from her grip and pushed it through the bag’s opening, popping it free. His hand smoothed over the front of the dress, fingers tracing a swirl over the silky knit.

Her nipples puckered against the softness of her robe, as if secretly wishing he’d drop the dress and start up with them instead. Traitorous little buggers.

“I know Jerrick…his tastes.” Dash hooked the dress’s straps over her head, leaving the hanger to dangle down her back. “If there’s one thing he can’t resist, it’s a gorgeous woman. Especially one poured into a hot number of a dress.”

He spread the fabric out so it hugged the front of her robe. For a breathless second, she waited for his fingers to move over her breasts. They didn’t. But his gaze did. It lingered on them for several heated moments before roving up to her flushed face.

“You’ll resemble the type of sex kitten Jerrick goes for.”

What about the type you go for
? Refusing to give voice to the embarrassing question, she wet her lips. Dash’s eyes darkened and her heart skipped a beat. “Okay, color me convinced. So after I pour myself into this flimsy excuse for a dress, what next?”

Dash’s mouth slid into a dangerously wicked grin. “We troll for thieves, baby.”

Chapter Ten

The interior of The Fairies’ Grotto proved similar to the three previous party dens—dark, smoky and overcrowded with the occasional patron in need of a good antiperspirant.

Dash grimaced and tugged the hat he’d picked up from the Crystal Lodge’s clothing shop lower on his forehead. He leaned against the wall, keeping as far as possible from the offensively odoriferous person next to him without sacrificing his prime view of the bar and Mara.

Like a homing device, the curve of her thigh drew him in. Sweat broke on his forehead, crawling from beneath his hat’s brim towards the side of his jaw. Shit, he’d really set himself up for endless torture picking out that dress. If he didn’t get his hands on her soon, he was going to self combust.

Patience.
He didn’t want to trigger any of her alarms by moving too fast. And that meant continuing the charade he’d been playing the past three hours.

He hadn’t been completely forthcoming with her. Jerrick most definitely wouldn’t be hanging out in these types of dens. Not unless he was suddenly hooking up with transgendered individuals.

Dash snuck a glance at Mr./Ms. Stinky. He or she noticed him looking and winked.
Uh-oh.
He shoved from the wall and hotfooted it towards the spiral stairway. The crowd surged around the base of the stairs, some heading for the Fairy Loft and others for the Troll Dungeon, forcing him to elbow his way through the undulating sea of people. Mara’s shiny blonde curls glowed beneath the bar’s spotlights in the distance. He quickened his pace. Pulling up behind her, he cupped her shoulder.

She jumped, jerking her head in surprise.

“Relax, it’s only me,” he said, brushing his lips close to her ear.

The shoulder beneath his palm lost its tension and she peered up at him expectantly. “Any sign of Jerrick?”

A twinge of guilt stabbed him in the gut. “Not yet. But it’s still early. Want your drink refreshed?”

“Um, I’ve had two already and my head feels kinda…floaty.” An adorable frown tweaked between her eyebrows. “Maybe I should go back to drinking boring old water.”

“Don’t worry. I’m here to ensure you don’t do anything you’ll regret in the morning.”
Good gods, I’m a bastard.

She smiled sweetly, her blue eyes trusting and innocent. “Okay. Guess I’ll have another of these. They’re really yummy.
Obviously
.” Giggling, she lifted her glass, rattling the ice cubes and fluttering the paper bumblebee swirling on the end of its stick. The bee’s face wore a pissy expression. No small wonder, having that stick shoved up its rump.

Dash looked over his shoulder and spied a miraculously empty booth. “
Sher ’tian
, why don’t you grab us that booth in the corner while I round you up another drink.”

“’Kay.” She hopped off her stool and strutted to the booth.

He tracked every sway of her heart-shaped ass. Her dress and the body inside it were steadily killing off his brain cells.
Plan A. Just keep your head focused on the prize.

Minutes later, drinks in hand, he joined Mara at the booth. The velvet-upholstered bench seat creaked when he slid in next to her and settled her Killer Bee Sting on the slab of black agate sidelining as a coaster. He casually draped an arm across the ledge topping the tufted booth, ignoring his own drink. Mara snuggled her breasts against the rounded edge of the table and lust shot straight to his groin. Good gods, how could he concentrate on anything other than the tempting swells of those perfect globes?