Shadow's Pleasure: The Shadow Warder Series, Book Two (A Paranormal/Urban Fantasy Romance Series) (14 page)

However he managed to handle them, neither of the women seemed to resent Kiernan and his casual approach to sex. They didn’t even seem to mind that they worked together and they’d both slept with him. As she placed her order with the smiling waitress, trying not to glare at the woman’s hand on Kiernan’s shoulder, Sorcha scanned the crowded bar, wondering how many other women in the bar he’d slept with. They could probably field a baseball team. She gritted her teeth. Why was she feeling so territorial? Kiernan wasn’t hers.

“What?” Kiernan said after the waitress had collected their menus and left.

“Just wondering if there are any women in the bar you haven’t slept with.” The words were out before Sorcha could censor them. A hot flush hit her cheeks. Was that her voice? Tight and catty, she didn’t sound like herself. She’d never been judgmental before. Not about sex. As long as everyone was in it for fun, what did it matter? Kiernan was honest with these women and they didn’t seem to feel used. So who was she to make snotty comments?

Sorcha’s inner lecture had no effect. The heavy ball of insecurity and possessiveness weighed in her gut, sending more bitchy thoughts right to her brain. She bit her tongue before they could spill out.

“A few,” Kiernan answered evenly. He didn’t look embarrassed or mad. Just cautious.

Sorcha thought about apologizing for her rudeness, but found herself unable to do it.

“I’ve never promised them anything I couldn’t give,” he said.

Sorcha responded with a jerky shrug of her shoulder, struggling for something to say that wouldn’t make her feel worse. She never should have commented in the first place. It wasn’t any of her business who Kiernan slept with. Not in his past, and definitely not in his future. He wasn’t hers. She would never be his. Aside from Kiernan’s clear preference for beautiful, sexually experienced women, he was a Warder. She was a Shadow.

Though Conner and Hannah had broken through a barrier with their bonding, they were the only Shadow and Warder pair in over a millennia. It was not the start of a trend. Sorcha and Kiernan were temporary partners. When this was over, they’d never see each other again. She was going to have to get herself together and put her jealousy aside. Their relationship was business, not personal.

Kiernan watched as Sorcha scooched into the corner of the booth, more than a foot out of reach. A base, animal part of him objected to her sudden distance. He pushed it back and studied her. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that she was jealous. When he’d brought her here, he hadn’t thought about Julie. Or Marissa. Or the other women he’d slept with who might be hanging around. Fuck. If Sorcha were any other woman, it wouldn’t be that big a deal. He could smooth it over with a kiss and a few easy words. However, not only was she unsure of him, she was an empath. She’d probably plucked untold details right out of the women’s brains. Marissa was sweet, but Julie had some sharp edges where other women were concerned. She knew him well enough to not get possessive, but she’d eyed Sorcha in a way that said she wasn’t enjoying the comparison between them.

Julie was nice enough, and a very attractive woman, but she didn’t hold a candle to Sorcha. With her flame-red hair loose around her shoulders and her clear green eyes, Sorcha was a natural beauty. It had taken her about ten minutes to get ready and she looked perfect. He’d been spot on when he picked out that skirt. It did amazing things for an already phenomenal ass. And the t-shirt was casual, with a faded graphic of a rock band on the front, but it clung to Sorcha’s round breasts in a way that he didn’t think she’d noticed. Every male in the bar had clocked it the second she’d walked through the door.

Sorcha was exactly the kind of woman he’d always been drawn to. Naturally beautiful. Smart. Relaxed and fun when she wasn’t feeling uptight and jealous. And something he’d never expected to be a turn-on—she was fucking brave as hell. He’d thought he was going to throw up when she was taking Madoc’s spelled ink, and Sorcha hadn’t voiced a word of complaint. Yes, she’d cried and passed out, but that was understandable. What she hadn’t done was come to and bitch about it.

Kiernan had already decided he was going to seduce her. Despite his cautionary thoughts at the meeting the day before, by the time they’d been in the car driving down the mountain, Kiernan was determined to take her to bed. Now that he knew her better, he suspected he wasn’t going to be able to settle for simply seducing her.

Their world was shifting around them. Rules that had been ironclad just weeks before were melting away. A Director was conspiring with the Vorati, and a Shadow had bonded to a Warder. Kiernan didn’t understand the bond completely; at least not on the level that he assumed the Shadows understood it. Warders were creatures of action. They couldn’t read and manipulate energy the way Shadows did. Hannah had claimed she could actually see the bond between her and Conner. Kiernan couldn’t do that. But the connection between Conner and his Shadow was impossible to deny. Kiernan didn’t need to see colored bands of energy running between them to understand they were tied together.

Kiernan wanted that for himself. He wanted someone who belonged to him, someone he could protect and care for, someone who was his alone. Close to one hundred and fifty years had passed, and he still hadn’t gotten over losing his family. Despite being his people through blood, the Warders had never filled that gap. Worse, they’d denied him the one thing he’d wanted. Warders didn’t do family. They had wealth. They could—and did—own their heart’s desire in material possessions. Long life and a generous paycheck saw to that. But they didn’t have the one thing he missed the most—connection. Except for Conner, who’d been his best friend since Kiernan had first come to the Academy, he’d spent his adult life essentially alone. And now Conner had Hannah.

He wasn’t jealous. He was happy for Conner. But ever since Conner had fallen in love, Kiernan had known their friendship would change. Now that he was cutting loose from the Warders, it left the door open for Kiernan to make a change as well. From what he’d gathered at the first meeting after Hannah had flipped out and run off, the bond wasn’t something Conner and Hannah had done intentionally. According to Iris and Garran, when the energy between a Warder and a Shadow matched in a certain way, the bond would begin to form on its own. Love wasn’t necessary, at least not to start. Deeper emotions grew in their own time. The bond was something else. Primal. Permanent.

As a general rule, Kiernan tried not to bullshit himself. Sorcha, he saw, was deep in the land of denial. Or maybe she really didn’t know what the odd, spreading heat when they touched meant for her. Kiernan, who had sat through Conner’s drunken ramblings about Hannah, suspected the connection the first time he’d touched Sorcha. Too cautious to make assumptions, he’d shelved the possibility until later. The second their eyes had met when she’d been under Madoc’s needle, he’d known he’d been right. They were bonding. Sorcha was his.

What were the odds? Actually, when he’d started considering it, it made sense. The Elder Shadows claimed the bond had been denied for almost fifteen hundred years. If Warders and Shadows were once more in each other’s company, and bonding was the natural state between compatible pairs, the energy would seek equilibrium. Pent up for too long, it would aggressively bond compatible pairs until a new balance had been achieved. On reflection, Kiernan thought their world was going to change even more than any of them had guessed.

Sorcha had no clue. She was just coming around to the idea that she was attracted to him. After what she’d been through over the past decade, Kiernan had known he’d have to move slowly with her. Let their friendship grow. He liked her. Liked being with her. She seemed to like him well enough in return. They weren’t in love, but that didn’t matter. Falling in love in a few days, like Conner had with Hannah, was a fluke. Kiernan didn’t believe in love at first sight. But lust, that was completely different. And lust added to friendship wasn’t a bad start. If they really were bonding, he could work with lust and friendship. He knew Sorcha was attracted to him.

Dragging her into the lingerie store had been a test. And she’d passed. Or failed, depending on your perspective. Her shy blushes, the unease when she watched him picking out lacy underwear—they’d all broadcast that she was thinking of him in a sexual way. Then he’d taken her out and thrown his past lovers in her face. For a guy who was known for being smooth with women, this was a colossal fuck-up.

“So, what’s with the guy we’re going to see later?” Sorcha asked, interrupting his thoughts.

At least she was talking to him again. Another thing he liked about her. She didn’t sulk. Lowering his voice, he answered her question. “Cameron runs the club we’re going to. He also has a few less than aboveboard interests.”

“Like?” Sorcha leaned closer, matching her volume to his.

Progress. She was almost close enough to touch. “Some of it is tied up with the women at his club. He moves weapons. Mostly guns. He has the connections to get his hands on some interesting spell craft from time to time. He has eyes everywhere. If there’s something going on within a hundred miles of here, Cam usually knows about it.”

“He moves between our world and the humans’? I thought Warders didn’t use guns,” Sorcha said.

“Cam gets around. Warders
don’t
use human guns. Not normally. And Cam mostly deals with that type. But he’s sold me a few Mysterium-made weapons in the past. I have no idea where he got them. I don’t ask.”

“Where is he from?”

“I don’t ask that either,” Kiernan said. “He showed up in town about fifteen years ago and set up the club. Within a month, lines were around the block. He made it membership only, crazy high fees just to join, and still he’s at capacity every night. Six months after opening, he was keyed in to everything that happens around here. I’ve been doing a little work for him when he needs me. In that entire time, I’ve never asked a personal question. You’ll see when you meet him.”

“What do you do for him?” Sorcha eased closer, leaning in so she could whisper the question.

Kiernan smiled, the knot in his chest easing. Where an apology would have pissed her off, curiosity was winning her back. “My job, honey. Cameron has men who work for him. Definitely human. And humans who live on that side of life tend to get infected by Vorati.”

Sorcha nodded in understanding. She’d been a tracker, so she likely knew exactly what he was talking about. Fair or not, those who lived in the underbelly of society generally had a weaker moral compass. And that made them bait for Vorati demons. Kiernan couldn’t count the number of drug dealers and petty criminals he’d put down over the years. Sorcha had probably seen the same.

“Cameron,” he went on, “has a problem with the Vorati. A lot of men in his position wouldn’t mind having a demon or two on the payroll, but Cam won’t tolerate them. If he gets the slightest hint of infection, he gives me a call and I take care of the problem. So far, he’s never been wrong.”

“Doesn’t he have to worry about infection? I mean, if he’s that shady…” she let her words trail off.

“You’d think,” Kiernan answered, giving Marissa a careful smile when she slid their beers in front of them. He waited until she’d left before he went on. “I watched him for years, waiting for any sign that he was infected. Then I finally realized he was an anomaly—Cameron truly believes what he does isn’t wrong. Maybe not acceptable to society, but he’s not morally twisted up over it. I don’t know who he sells his weapons to. Whoever it is, it doesn’t bother him that he’s arming them. He doesn’t deal drugs outside of weed. Nothing hard. Everything he sells is quality product. His girls make their own decisions, and Cameron takes good care of them. You’ll see soon enough. With your talents, maybe you can tell me what’s going on in his head.”

“Interesting. So why exactly are we going to see him? We don’t need guns or pot,” she said.

Kiernan noticed she skipped right over his reference to Cam’s girls. “No. But we do need information. I doubt Cameron knows what Michael has been doing. He’s protective of females. He’d never stand by while one was being violated, much less living through what Michael’s been doing to your friend. But if he doesn’t know what’s going on, he can find out. I want some of his resources aimed at pinning Michael down while we search for the girls. If the spell craft keeps giving you trouble, maybe we’ll get a lead another way. Cam owes me a few favors. We’re going there so I can call them in.”

Marissa arrived at the table carrying two plates piled with food. Setting them on the table, she asked if they needed anything else then drifted away. Sorcha dug into her plate of ribs, coleslaw, and baked beans with enthusiasm. One more thing he liked about her. Kiernan was used to human women and their weird hang-ups about eating. As a man who preferred a woman with curves, it always annoyed Kiernan when women made a big deal about not eating to preserve bodies that were too skinny to begin with. Even the fuller-figured women he favored still seemed to be preoccupied with food. As in, not eating it, or feeling self-conscious when they did eat. Shadows burned more calories than humans, but it was nice to see that Sorcha came by her curves honestly. A streak of russet barbecue sauce colored her cheek. Kiernan decided not to tell her about it. Instead, he sat back and watched her, the visceral part of him that wanted her close satisfied by the sight of Sorcha eating with such pleasure.