Shadow's Pleasure: The Shadow Warder Series, Book Two (A Paranormal/Urban Fantasy Romance Series) (16 page)

“Kier. You’ll break my heart if you tell me she’s with you,” he said, his voice flowing over Sorcha like warm honey. Each tiny hair on her skin prickled to attention. Despite Kiernan’s hold on her, Sorcha swayed forward. With a curse under his breath, Kiernan pulled her tighter to his side, angling slightly to place her subtly behind him.

“She’s mine,” Kiernan answered. “Sorcha,” he said to her. “This is Cameron. He’s dangerous and untrustworthy.”

“Kiernan,” Cameron said, laughter in his voice. “You’ve always been honest to a fault. But I wouldn’t be dangerous to a beautiful woman like this one.” Holding his hand out to Sorcha, he said, “I’m very pleased to meet you, Sorcha.”

Unsure what to do, Sorcha watched as her hand floated up to meet his. She didn’t usually shake hands with strangers, given her empathic issues with skin-to-skin contact. She’d been all right with Madoc, but this man didn’t strike her as one she should take any chances with. He was beautiful. Undeniably sensual. And a predator.

These thoughts spun through her head, but her hand acted on its own, raising and extending toward Cameron despite her reservations. Before they made contact, Kiernan caught her errant hand in his, bringing it to his lips. His mouth, hot and wet on her cool skin, sent a bolt of lust straight between her legs. She couldn’t stop the quick gasp. Her body’s inclination toward Cameron cut off abruptly.

Cameron dropped his hand and grinned at them, clearly amused. “I see she is yours, Kier. You’re not usually so possessive.” Cameron crossed the room and leaned on the edge of the desk facing the couch. Following his lead, Kiernan and Sorcha sat side by side on the long black couch. “Can I get you anything?” Cameron asked. “A drink? Something to eat?”

“Sorcha?” Kiernan asked, running the back of one finger down her cheek. She shivered.

Her voice came out in a hoarse stutter. “A drink?” Clearing her throat, she forced herself to get it together. When she spoke again, her voice was clear and strong. “A dirty martini.”

“Whiskey,” Kiernan said.

Cameron picked up the sleek black phone on his desk and placed their drink orders. Then he turned his attention back to his guests. “So,” he said, his eyes moving from Kiernan to Sorcha and back again. “To what do I owe the honor of your visit? You don’t usually drop by for pleasure. Do we have business?”

“We do,” Kiernan said.

Sorcha couldn’t deny a flash of relief that Kiernan didn’t frequent the club as a customer. She already felt outclassed by the few women she’d met in Charlotte. There was no way she could measure up to the kind of females Cameron would have working in his club. Not that Sorcha needed to measure up to anything. Like Kiernan, she was there on business.
Business
, she reminded herself. Kiernan had draped his arm around her in a casually possessive hold. His touch was distracting. Sorcha did her best to block it out and focus on the conversation.

“I’m calling in a marker,” Kiernan continued. “We have an issue with a Director, and it calls for more intel than I can safely get on my own.”

“A Warder Director?”

“Is there another kind?”

“Unusual,” Cameron said, head tilted to the side. Assessing Kiernan. “There’s not much information you can’t get.”

“That’s part of my problem. I need to keep a low profile. I can’t be the one poking into this.”

“If you’re here,” Cameron said, “the problem must be local. So what’s Michael up to?”

A knock sounded at the door, and a woman entered carrying a tray. Sorcha took her in with a quick glance, looking away before she could be caught staring. The waitress was tall. Taller than Sorcha, who was fairly tall for a female. And, like Sorcha, the waitress was curvy. But that was where the comparison ended. This female matched Cameron in sensuality, her every movement a study in fluid grace, dripping with promise. Just lifting their drinks from her tray and setting them on the table was a caress, her long, elegant fingers lingering on the stem of Sorcha’s martini glass. Sorcha met the waitress’s dark eyes and felt a bolt of awareness pass through her. Her breasts swelled with need. Heat pooled between her legs.

A warning pinged in the back of Sorcha’s mind. Unable to break from the waitress’s gaze, it occurred to Sorcha that she’d never found a woman sexually attractive before. She could appreciate a female’s beauty, but this kind of direct, physical response had always been reserved for males. Even as her breathing grew shallower, Sorcha realized something else was happening here. Something more than natural physical attraction.

The waitress leaned in, her full, soft-looking breasts almost spilling from the diaphanous, clinging shift she wore. One slender hand rose, a fingertip extended to Sorcha’s lips.

Her brain struggling for clarity, Sorcha felt herself sway toward the woman, just as she had when she’d been introduced to Cameron. Glitters of golden light seemed to rise from the waitress’s skin, scenting the air around them in a blend of sweet, earthy floral and spice.

“Enough,” Sorcha heard in her ear, followed by an arm pulling her back into a hard chest. She blinked, finally able to look away from the waitress’s dark eyes.

“They aren’t customers, Sule. You may go,” Cameron said.

Sorcha recovered enough of her senses to risk a glance back at the waitress. Not at her eyes, at her shoulder. But close enough to catch a wry smile at odds with the overt sensuality the waitress had displayed a moment before.

“If you’re sure,” Sule said. “I was looking forward to dancing for her. Take care with your woman, Warder. She is an untapped treasure.” At that, Sule spun on her spiked heel and turned for the door, empty tray in hand.

Sorcha watched her go, still reeling from the encounter. Before she completely got her bearings, Kiernan took her chin in his hand and turned her face to his. Hazel eyes met hers with a flare.

“I plan to,” he whispered against her lips.

“Plan to what?” Sorcha whispered back. Kiernan’s lips, warm and soft as silk, slid over hers. The arousal the waitress had begun surged at the touch. A whimper caught at the back of her throat.

“Plan to take care,” Kiernan said, lips brushing hers as he spoke.

Sorcha wanted to close her eyes. Needed to be alone with Kiernan, or break away from the haze cast by the waitress and deepened by Kiernan’s barely-there kiss. Proving his words true, he nipped her lower lip. Not to injure, but with enough force to send a mind-clearing jolt of pain through her. Tongue flicking out to soothe the bite, Sorcha sat back, feeling in control of her own body for the first time since they’d entered the room.

Kiernan sat back beside her and scowled at Cameron.

Cameron laughed, the severe, sensual beauty of his face gentled by his amusement. “Your woman is close to an innocent, Kiernan. It was dangerous bringing her here.” He leaned on the edge of his desk, picking up his drink.

Before Sorcha could respond, Kiernan squeezed her arm. A warning to be silent. She obeyed. For the moment. The last few minutes had made it clear that Sorcha needed to observe before she jumped in. Whoever—whatever—these people were, they were outside her experience.

“Not as innocent as you’d think. Just never exposed to your kind, Cam.”

“Still,” Cameron said, looking between Sorcha and Kiernan again, eyes narrowed, “there’s something I can’t quite—”

“Forget it.” Kiernan’s voice lost its easygoing drawl. “We have things to do tonight. We’re not here to play.”

“Right,” Cameron said. He swirled the ice in his glass, clearly reluctant to leave the topic of Sorcha. With a short sigh, he set the glass back on his desk. “Business. Tell me what kind of trouble Michael’s been causing.”

Kiernan leaned forward on the couch and put his drink back on the coffee table. He proceeded to fill Cameron in on Michael, the Shadows he held captive, as well as what had happened with Conner and Hannah. Cameron listened to the story in silence. When Kiernan finished, Cameron shook his head.

“You don’t believe me?” Kiernan asked. He sat forward, ready to argue. Cameron shook his head again.

“I believe you. I’m just surprised it took so long.”

“What took so long?”

“All of it. You Warders are such a moral lot, on the whole. So much power, you’d think you’d be ripe for corruption. Even after the Elders killed so many with that fucked-up spell, you’re still dedicated to your task. If the Shadows didn’t hold a grudge so well, the bondings would have started up again centuries ago.”

“If we’re so moral, what about Michael?”

“A dangerous anomaly. It’s a weakness, the moral strength of the Warders.” Cameron paced to the long window looking down into his club below. “You’re so focused on the evil in the demon and human worlds, you never think to guard against the evil within. It makes you vulnerable. Yet even I missed signs of a Director colluding with a Voratus. Michael must have access to strong spell craft to stay off my radar. I’ve caught no hint of this.”

“We need to find out where he’s holding the Shadows,” Kiernan said.

“Why is Sorcha here? What is she to you? To this mission?”

“She’s not your concern, Cameron. Don’t worry about Sorcha.”

“Everything is my concern. That’s why you’re here. And if I’m going to help you, I need to know what I’m dealing with.”

Cameron turned his pale blue eyes to Sorcha. They were almost the same icy shade of Kate’s eyes, but somehow hot. Sorcha fought not to flinch when the intensity of those eyes focused on her. When he’d been flirting, his gaze had discomfited her but she’d been able to handle it. Now that he was searching her face for information, trying to figure out what she was, Sorcha’s instinct was to squirm like a bug pinned under a microscope.

Deliberately, Sorcha looked away, choosing instead to focus on Kiernan.

His hazel eyes met hers just before he smiled. A quick kiss to her cheek and a whisper in her ear. “Good job. Don’t let him rattle you.” To Cameron, he said, “Sorcha is a tracker. She’s going to help me find the missing Shadows. But they’re being blocked by spell craft. We think we can work our way around it, but it seemed smart to attack this from more than one direction.”

“She appears to be human,” Cameron said, still staring at Sorcha with his intent gaze.

“As far as you’re concerned, she is,” Kiernan said.

Cameron stepped away from the long window and finally stopped staring at Sorcha. Turning back to his desk, he placed his empty glass in the center. “I could make a guess,” he said, head cocked to the side. The laser focus was gone, replaced by a charming smile.

Like this, with his expression at ease, almost coaxing, Cameron reminded Sorcha of Kiernan. Beside her, Kiernan remained tense. Unlike Cameron, he hadn’t relaxed.

“Don’t guess. If you value our friendship, forget about Sorcha.”

“Protecting yourself? Or her?” Cameron asked.

Sorcha thought he might be teasing Kiernan. If he was, Kiernan wasn’t amused.

“What do you think?”

“I think you have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into, Kier. No fucking clue.”

“You’d be surprised,” Kiernan answered, wrapping his arm around Sorcha and pulling her tight to his side. “It’s possible I know exactly what I’m getting myself into.”

Cameron tapped his index finger on the edge of his desk several times, as if lost in thought or trying to make a decision. Abruptly, he straightened and turned for the door. “Then I wish you luck, Kiernan. From my deepest heart, I wish you luck. It seems times are changing, at long last. I’ll hope that your efforts can bring us to a safer tomorrow.” At the door, he paused, facing them. Inclining his head in her direction, Cameron spoke. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sorcha.” To Kiernan, he said, “I’ll get ears to the ground. Check in with me tomorrow. And if Sorcha would like to see more of the club, I suggest she do it from here. The floor is not the place for one such as her. If you need anything, just dial zero on my phone. I’ll be out for the rest of the evening.”

At that, he left, the door closing behind him with a firm click.

Sorcha twisted in her seat, meeting Kiernan’s eyes. “What did he mean, such as me? Did he figure out what I am?”

“Maybe. The tattoos are doing their job, but Cameron is sharp, and he’s been alive a very long time. He may have picked something up from the way you responded to him. And to Sule. A human would have had more resistance. Your empathy makes you susceptible.”

“They aren’t human,” Sorcha said. Now that Cameron’s potent presence had left the room, it was obvious he was no normal mortal. And Sule—Sorcha wasn’t sure she wanted to think about her odd reaction to the female. Or Kiernan’s barely-there kiss just after Sule had almost touched her. It was all shuffling around in her head in a confusing haze.

“No,” Kiernan said. “Finish your drink and I’ll show you something.”

Chapter Nine

Surprised, Sorcha looked to the coffee table. Her martini sat there, half full, drops of condensation running down the sides. She picked it up, the moisture cold against her suddenly hot skin. Tossing back the rest of the strong drink, she set the empty glass on the table with a click and looked at Kiernan, waiting to see what was next.