The bass thumped through the dark underground club, the air thick with lust, sweat, pot, and alcohol. The brick roof arched in shallow domes, stuffed with skulls and bones across the openings along the walls. I was pretty sure they were real. The tiny dance floor was packed with bodies bouncing along to the grunge band playing on stage. Dilapidated sofas and chairs grouped together filled most of the empty space between the bar and the dance floor. Disturbing art depicting death covered the walls, and the bar was designed out of coffins.

After the barrier between the worlds dropped, places like this made a huge comeback. While the masses claimed they were scared of fae and didn’t like them, many were secretly fascinated with the monsters of the night. Succumbing to their darkest fantasies, people came to these kind of scenes hoping to encounter their desire. Clearly fae were no dummies. They were here in abundance, exploiting and fulfilling the curious humans’ fancies and probably their own.

“Here.” Lorcan handed me a bottle of beer. It had taken us two hours talking to some college students and fae to even find out about this place. It was still a long shot that anyone from the Irish Republican Army, the IRA, or Druid Liberal Republic, the DLR, would be here, but it was a start.

“Thanks.” I grasped the chilled bottle, lifting it to him. I couldn’t get over the impression I had been here before. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” He tapped his against mine and took a swig.

“What do we do now?” I yelled to him over the music as the band shifted to a haunting, sexy beat. Lorcan turned to me, grabbed the beer from my hand, and set it on the bar. He reached up, taking off my sweatshirt. His fingers slipped over my shoulders, peeling the fabric from me, tugging it off, leaving me in my thin racerback tank top.

“We dance.” His mouth brushed against my ear.

Yearning flamed up my body. My veins pumped with it, cooking me from the inside out.

“You dance?”

“No, but I don’t think what they’re doing on the dance floor is called dancing.”

From what I could see it was barely a half step above actually having sex.

“O-kay,” I croaked.

Lorcan placed my beer back in my hand and took my free hand, tugging me to the packed floor. He kept to the edge but turned my back to the bar. “The more who see this…” His hand glided over my shoulder blade. “The more chances they will come to us. We only need one.”

I nodded, a slight flicker of disappointment nicking my heart. I knew why we were here. We had a mission, but I still wanted Lorcan to dance with me without a motive.

Shut up, Ken. This is about the mission, which is the only thing that is important.

Lorcan kept his arms down, but pressed his physique into mine, slightly rolling his hips to the beat of the music.

Fuck. Yes, it was one of those times that called for swearing.

I let out a whimper, hoping it was absorbed by the music, my teeth digging into my bottom lip. I refused to look at his face. This was torture, my body intimately aware of how well he could move his hips and wanted nothing more than to be reacquainted again.

Slamming back a huge gulp of beer, I tried to fight back the overwhelming need for him as our bodies moved together in sync. Figures crowded around us, my neck and back growing damp with sweat, but I barely noticed anything beyond our bodies. The erotic beat of the music, his hand gliding up my arm, our chests moving in and out in shallow breaths, and his physique pressed into mine.

“Ken?” Lorcan whispered hoarsely in my ear, his mouth so close all I had to do was tilt my head to claim them with my own.

“Yes?” I shifted a bit, making us even closer, and his mouth so near I could almost feel them on mine. Kiss me. Now.

“There is a man staring at you in the corner. His eyes haven’t left you since we stepped out here.”

“Oh.” I jerked back. Not at all what I had imagined him to be saying. Or doing. I had lost focus, again, forgetting everything but Lorcan, and here he was eyeing the club, keeping on task. Acting the part.

“Don’t look until I lead you back to the bar. Ginger in the corner, tall and skinny, with a beard.”

“No. I lead you.” I stepped back, folding my arms. “Time for the beast to be my plaything.”

His mouth flattened, his lids narrowing.

“You need to look a little more vacant than that.” I reached up and patted his chest. “I’m sure it won’t be too hard.”

He made a low rumble.

I was lashing out in hurt, once again becoming someone I never thought I could be. Before I met Lorcan I could relinquish my bad behavior. Now, I flipped around, heading back to the bar. I scanned the room, the man Lorcan described easy to find. He stood by himself, leaning against a corner pillar, his arms folded. He did not hide the fact he was staring at me intently. His face was expressionless, but I instantly picked up on magic rolling around him. Magic like mine.

A Druid.

It was like climbing back into your own bed after weeks or months away. My body recognized the familiarity. My heart leaped up my throat and excitement buzzed my spine. I had never encountered another Druid and hadn’t expected the thrill of interacting with another one face to face. I felt an instant draw, a sensation of long-lost family, elation of not being completely alone. My legs itched with the longing to go over to him. I hadn’t even realized I was complying till Lorcan hooked my belt loop, tugging me back.

“Let him come to us,” he said.

I wiggled free of him, twirling around to look at the beast. “You have to stop being the dominant one here. I am in charge.” I thrust my hands on my hips. Lorcan stared down at me, his eyes wandering over me. Hungry. Intense.

I had been a reluctant leader but quickly learned I could not let them see the deep fear and uncertainty I felt being Queen. With Lorcan those facades were hard to keep up. It scared me how willing I was to let him take the lead. Not in everything, but here and now I desired him to take what he wanted. I could easily shut down every excuse and denial on my lips.

He stepped back with a huff, ripping his gaze from mine, looking over my head. “Shit,” he growled.

I whirled around. The spot where the man had been was empty. The Druid was gone.

“He left.” My gaze drifted wildly over the club trying to see if I could find him. No. We can’t lose him. Everything was based on us getting into this group. What were the chances we’d run into him or anyone else?

“By the door.” Lorcan jerked his head toward the exit.

My feet took off, not exactly sure of my plan yet.

 

1.)   Stop him.

2.)   Say what after that? I don’t know.

 

I elbowed between the bottleneck of bodies near the door, pushing my way through, anxiety at losing our only lead spiking my adrenaline. I might be small, but I shoved at men twice my size, knocking them back with shock. My heart pummeled my throat, pulsating where my raven tattoo lay.

“Move!” I slipped through a couple, hitting the stairs up to the ground level, stumbling up the uneven stone steps. I practically fell out the door, knocking into the doorman.

“Watch it, lass.” The six-foot bouncer frowned down at me. I ignored him, stepping out farther into the alley, the icy temperatures needling my bare arms.

Besides the line waiting to get into the club, the lane was empty. I twirled around, looking down the long row. “Where’d he go? He can’t just disappear.” Druids were good, but we couldn’t just vanish into nothing. Right?

Lorcan came next to me, his nose flaring, taking in a deep breath. “I can’t pick up anything. Too many people here.”

Not ready to give up, I took off down the passage, heading for the main street. When I reached the end, I scanned the road. Couples and groups of people dotted down the sidewalks, cars zoomed by, but I didn’t detect magic from anyone.

“Dammit!” I stomped my foot.

“Whoever he is, he’s long gone,” Lorcan said next to me.

“Our one chance and I already blew it.”

“It’s only our first night. I have a feeling he will be back.” He curved around to me, his fingers tugging at the sweatshirt tied around my waist, pulling it around my shoulders. “Think we should call it a night.”

I rubbed my eyes, giving the street one last sweep. “Yeah.”

“Come on. We need to get our jackets, then I’ll get you a hot chocolate on the way back.” His hands slid down my arms, warming them. My gaze met Lorcan’s and he dropped his hands away. It seemed so easy for us to fall into how we were before.

“Chocolate. Yes.” I nodded with a small smile. “That always helps.”

 

 

When we reached our hostel after my stomach was full of sweet cocoa, exhaustion from the long day finally smacked me over the head. I took off my boots and jeans and climbed onto the bed, not bothering to change into the pajamas Lars had put in my bag. I was still sad about losing my favorite T-shirt in Freiburg.

Lorcan locked the door. Then the bed creaked and dipped as he sat on the edge. His boots hit the floor with a thunk. At the sound of fabric swishing against skin, my eyes popped open with a start.

He tossed his Henley onto his bag across the room and sat there, his scarred back facing me. Those scars were permanent memories donated by Aneira and his father. I longed to reach out and touch them, trail my fingers all the way down.

Suddenly I was no longer tired. The realization of our bed situation barreled into the room, scooping up my breath.

Earlier I was upset enough to think I’d make him sleep on the floor, but I couldn’t do that.

 

1.)   It was disgusting. I could see the dirt on it from here.

2.)   He’d have to sleep halfway under the bed just to be able to lie down.

3.)   There were no extra blankets.

 

My hand went to my chest, as though I could cover up its hammering. It was pointless as Lorcan could hear it from the next room. He didn’t move, his elbows on his knees, just staring at the wall.

“I’ll see if they have a double tomorrow,” he said, standing up. “Get to sleep.”

“Where are you going?” I propped myself on my arm, alarm swamping me.

“Nowhere, just going to sit here. Let you get some sleep.” He still wouldn’t face me, standing in the middle of the small room.

“You need sleep too.”

“I’m fine.”

“No. You’re not.” I sat all the way up. “When was the last time you got a good night’s rest?”

A cankerous laugh crackled out of him. “Since meeting you?”

“How well can you protect me if you are about to fall over?” I spoke in desperation to keep him close, not with logic. “We’re safe in here. Now get in this bed before I make you.”

Lorcan swung around. “Make me?”

I lifted my eyebrows. “Remember I’m a Druid. I can make you if I want.”

We both knew I was full of shit. I couldn’t make him do anything.

“Are you talking about black magic?” His eyes twinkled with naughtiness. “My, my, li’l Druid. Walkin’ on the dark side?”

“If I have to.” I shrugged. Black magic had to be learned; it didn’t just come to you, not that I heard of anyway. And I never planned on doing that.

Yes, you do. You crave to taste it. A voice trickled into my head, tightening my gut. Black magic was forbidden. Wrong. It went against pure Druid magic. But my darkest desire stirred like a witch’s brew. Always there. I locked down on my jaw, shoving the thought far from my mind.

Lorcan returned to me and placed his palms on the bed, his face an inch from mine.

“Threatening me with black magic, just to get me in your bed?” He spoke low and husky. “You really are a Seelie Queen.”

I inhaled sharply, my back slamming into the wall behind me. Hurt and embarrassment flooded my cheeks and eyes, and I turned away from him, my lids blinking.

“Ken…”

“No.” I gritted my teeth, fighting back the tears. Suddenly so hot I couldn’t stand the feeling of my sweater, I tore it off down to my tank, then turned my back on him, lying down.

“Ken, I didn’t mean it.” He huffed.

I tucked my arm under my head, digging farther into the pillow.

“Hey.” The bed dipped with his weight, his hand resting on my shoulder.

I twisted away from his contact, almost rolling on my stomach. “Good night, Lorcan.”

“Kennedy,” he sighed, his voice soft. “I’m sorry. That was too far.”

I squeezed my lids together, feeling one tear wedge through. I wasn’t upset because a boy called me names. Hell, I was used to that. High school trained me for such things. I wasn’t that weak or thin skinned. What upset me was this feeling of truth in his joke. I wasn’t Aneira. I knew that, but I couldn’t deny the darkness inside. And it frightened me.

“Kennedy, talk to me. You’re not angry…you’re scared…I can feel it.”

I wrenched my neck to look at him over my shoulder. He reached up, wiping the single tear from my cheek, waiting for me to talk.

“I feel it,” I whispered, gazing back at the wall.

“Feel what?”

“Darkness.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t explain it, but it’s been happening for a few weeks now.” I stared at the ceiling. “Maybe even before. I sense this power. And it’s dark.” I shifted higher on the pillow. “I know it shouldn’t be possible, but that doesn’t take away from what I feel.”

He was quiet for a moment before speaking. “You can’t have light without darkness.”

“This is different.”

“How?”

I didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t want to think of what I could feel underneath. I understood the harmony of dark and light. Nature used balance. But black magic wasn’t the yang to Druid magic. Our magic naturally already had good and bad intent. Black magic was its own entity. And it had no good in it.

I reached and grabbed his hand, tugging his arm into me. He didn’t say a word, following my lead; he climbed in beside me, curving around my body.

The heat from his arms folding protectively over me gave me complete serenity. Briefly, the restless part of me, the one always searching for something, finally relented.

I drifted off to sleep, finally at peace.