Wicked Kiss by Rebecca Zanetti (17)

Tori stretched awake the following morning, her brain rapidly catching up to her body. Her face ached, as did her legs, but considering she’d run through a forest away from three psychos who’d wanted to harm her, she wasn’t feeling too bad. She rolled over, pressing her face to the pillow that still held an indent from Adam’s head. His scent, the wild one, filtered through her.

How did she really feel about what he’d done?

There had been no passion, no fury, when he’d killed. As with everything else he did in life, he’d been precise and deliberate.

Just who was the witch Enforcer? What would it take to get under his skin? For the first time ever, she wondered what it’d be like to truly belong with a man. His sheer focus and dedication proved he’d never stray. He’d never betray somebody he cared about, and she wanted to be that person. Well, maybe.

He had plenty of faults, too. He was bossy, arrogant, and that precision was a rock wall. It was his way or . . . there was no or. Adam lived life his way.

She wasn’t exactly the type to fall in line. Never had been, and never would be.

Yet there was something between them. She could feel it in the air, could taste it on his skin.

She rolled her eyes. Enough. A new lyric ran through her mind—a song about power and fire. She’d have to write it down later.

Throwing the covers off, she wandered around and tugged open drawers in the heavy oak chest in the corner. A pair of neatly folded capris caught her eye, along with a deep blue sweater. Perfect. She tugged the clothes on. The sweater fit like it was made for her, while the capris looked more like jeans on her. Must be Simone’s. The witch was much taller than Victoria.

Taking a deep breath, she moved into the main room of the cabin, stopping short when she found it empty.

A hearty fire crackled in the hearth, and a note lay on the table. She grabbed it up, reading quickly.

She swallowed and moved to the fridge to find a soda. Tipping back her head, she took in the sugar and caffeine. Okay. That was good. She could use some alone time. Then she looked around, noted it had stopped raining, and bit her lip. Alone time? Screw that. She had stuff to do.

Retrieving the basket of phones, she placed it on the table. Lately, she’d been able to ride on Adam’s bike without stopping it. Perhaps she was finally learning to control her oddity. Acknowledging it to him and having him accept it so easily had somehow helped. She took a phone and quickly dialed her friend.

“Hello,” Malanie murmured, sounding drowsy.

“Mal. I need a ride,” Tori said, giving directions. “You okay to drive?” Was the woman still taking drugs?

“I’m fine. We had a set last night. Missed you. When are you coming back?” Mal asked. Rustling sounded, along with the clanking of keys.

Tori rubbed a bruise on her neck. “Soon, I hope.” Though did she? Oh, she loved music, but the bar scene had gotten old about a year ago. But what else would she do with her life? She sucked as a CI and undercover operative. Maybe it was time to truly start writing and creating music again. “How soon can you get here?”

“On my way now,” Mal replied, a car engine igniting. “Oh my gosh. Did you hear about Mike Bray?”

Tori stiffened. Bray was the dickhead who’d stolen her song. Her stomach rolled. “Please don’t tell me he’s dead.”

“Dead? No, of course not. But his place was raided, and a bunch of drugs were found. As well as evidence that he’d stolen songs from a bunch of people. Not just you.” A horn honked in the distance. “Supposedly, the studios involved are contacting the real songwriters. Let me know if you get a call.”

“Okay,” Tori said weakly. Something told her she’d be getting that call. Had Adam taken care of the matter? Or had it been the mysterious king? Somehow, her new allies seemed hell-bent on taking care of her, whether she wanted it or not. However, seeing Bray get what he deserved held definite appeal. “Drive carefully, and I’ll see you soon.” The phone heated in her hand but didn’t burst into flames, so she set it down. That was an improvement, right?

She scoured the cupboards and found a box of granola bars. Munching on one, she viewed the dewy forest outside. One of the phones in the basket rang an old Bon Jovi song, and she took a moment to appreciate the melody. She could see the chords in her mind. Finally, she answered. “Ah, hello?”

“Tori,” Simone burst out. “I’m so glad I found somebody. I tried to call Adam, but he’s not answering.”

Tori leaned against the counter, her pulse picking up. She’d missed her friend. “It’s so good to hear your voice. It’s crazy that you’re a witch. I’m here. Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“I’m fine—and sorry about not telling you I’m a witch. We’re not supposed to tell.” Simone chuckled. “Other than that, I’m knocked up and locked down, but fine.”

Tori’s mouth gaped. “You’re pregnant?” Geez. Adam could’ve mentioned that tidbit. “Um. By whom?”

“Oh, I mated a demon. Nick Veis. You met him in Dublin.” Simone’s words rushed together. “Right now, I need help.”

Tori stood up straight. She’d love a mission—something to do. Anything to do. If she just sat around, she’d start worrying about the DEA. And her sister. And her mother. And her dead friend. And the Guard. And Adam. Yeah, definitely Adam and the whole mating issue. “I would love to help,” she said, meaning every word.

“Rumor has it you’re fairly safe now that Titans of Fire has been disbanded,” Simone said in a rush. “Is that true?”

“I wouldn’t say we’re safe, but we’re definitely staying under the radar, since we didn’t mate like we were supposed to.” Tori shook her head. Life had become way too bizarre if that sentence made sense.

“You should mate him,” Simone said. “Immortality would look good on you, and I don’t have many friends, so that works for me.”

Tori grinned. Simone had a kind heart, but she definitely saw life from her own perspective. Someone who didn’t adore her might even consider her a little vain and a mite selfish. Good thing Tori adored her. “What can I do for you?”

“Would you please check on Bear for me? He’s not answering any of his phones, and I can’t find Lucas Bryant-Clarke.”

“Just Clarke,” Tori said automatically. “He dropped the Bryant.” Then the words hit home. “Hey. By the way, you never said you had a brother.”

Simone sighed. “Long story. International intrigue. Life-or-death secret.”

Tori blew out air. “That seems to be par for the course with you witches.”

“It truly is,” Simone agreed, obviously not offended. “Anyway, I’m worried about him. Have you seen him lately?”

Tori grimaced. “Yeah. I saw him the other night, and, to be honest, he didn’t look good. He was all shaky, pale, and cranky.”

“He’s always cranky,” Simone mused, her voice concerned. “But the shaking and being pale isn’t normal. I hate to ask this—”

“Please ask it. I’m your friend, and I’m going a little crazy just looking at cabin walls,” Tori said. “Adam isn’t using his powers, and he said the Guard won’t mobilize to head over here for a couple of days, so we have a reprieve. A short one. Adam wouldn’t just give me a platitude to make me feel better.”

Simone snorted. “That’s a good point. Adam wouldn’t know a platitude if it bit his uptight ass.”

Tori grinned. It was nice to share tidbits with somebody who also knew the complexity that was Adam Dunne. “The phone is starting to get warm, so you’d better talk fast.”

“Huh?”

Oh yeah. She hadn’t shared. Maybe everybody held a secret or two. “I have some odd enhancement that ruins electrical devices, motors, engines . . . you name it. The phone I’m using is getting hot.” It no longer seemed like an embarrassing secret she had to hide. So she was weird. Who cared?

Simone was silent for a moment. “That’s fascinating—and probably something to do with your love of music.”

Tori frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I noticed you hear things—patterns in music and dialogue. I’ve read your lyrics,” Simone said thoughtfully. “Perhaps it’s related, and you should definitely work on figuring it all out. But don’t tell the queen.”

Tori lost the smile. “The queen? Dage’s wife?”

“Mate. Dage’s mate. She’s a scientist, and she loves, and I mean loves, doing experiments.” Fondness coated Simone’s words. “She’s a doll, but if you tell her, you will find yourself at headquarters in the near future trying to blow everything up with your mind. Or your touch. Or however you do it.”

Sounded like an interesting woman. “I’ll keep that in mind.” A spark from the phone burned Tori’s ear, and she winced, pressing the speaker button and setting the device on the counter. “You should probably start talking quickly.”

“No problem. Do you mind getting a visual on Bear and slapping a phone into his damn hand? He’s avoiding me, I think.” Simone sighed. “If he’s hurting, I need to know. Depending on what’s going on, I may get the queen involved to see if she can assist. The problem is forcing Bear to get help when he thinks he’s so damn invincible.”

Tori chewed on the inside of her lip. “What’s wrong with him?”

“I don’t know.” Simone cleared her voice. “Just take him a phone and see if he’s breathing, and we’ll go from there. Thanks.” She clicked off.

Tori frowned at the slightly smoldering device. What was the deal with Bear? Apparently, she’d have to go to the source to find out. Plus, it was the least she could do for Simone, and it would get her out of the cabin. She grabbed a couple more phones from the basket, making a mental note to buy more. Where did one find disposable phones in town? Probably at an electronics store.

A car pulled up outside. She ran out and jumped into Malanie’s faded blue Pinto, turning to study her friend. Clear eyes, smooth skin, steady hands on the wheel. Excellent. She’d stopped using.

Mal looked at the cabin, her dark brown eyes sparkling. “Nice place.”

Tori nodded. “Yeah. My, ah, new boyfriend owns it.” Calling Adam a boyfriend was like calling a wolf a puppy, but it would have to do.

“Boyfriend?” Mal asked, her grin widening as she turned the car around. Her long dreadlocks were tied with metal beads stamped with cool designs. “Lucas owns this place?”

Oh yeah. Lucas had come to one of their concerts at a Grizzly bar. “Ah, no. His name is Adam. Lucas and I decided to just be friends.”

“Figured he wouldn’t last long.” Malanie pressed down on the gas pedal, fishtailing around a couple of trees. She slowed down. “Two weeks is your limit.” Just fact and no judgment filled her tone.

Tori stilled and then settled back in the seat. “This guy might be different.”

“Uh huh.”

The engine clunked. “Dang it. Not again,” Mal said, her dark skin flushing.

Tori shut her eyes and breathed deep, trying to concentrate and keep her waves or whatever from stopping the vehicle. At some point, she should probably try to actually control the oddity instead of just hiding from it. Adam had given her that—the acceptance so she could move forward. Could she accept him the same way? He’d blown an entire compound to bits without even sweating a little. Without a second thought.

If he’d done it out of passion or fury, it would be easier to understand. But he’d been cold and almost matter-of-fact. He’d killed three men—bad men, of course—and then systematically hidden the evidence with plasma fire.

Why didn’t that scare the hell out of her? It should, right?

She leaned back in the seat. As her mind worked through the issue, trying to make sense of it, the car continued to run.

“Where am I taking you?” Malanie asked.

“To my place so I can grab my car,” Tori said automatically. “I really appreciate this.”

Malanie turned wide eyes on her. “Are you kidding me? You’ve kept me out of jail. If I hadn’t bought that Apollo . . .” Her voice trailed off, and her lips trembled. “I feel so bad about Bob. He was so young.”

Tori patted her hand. “Bob took the drug on his own. He made his decision.”

Mal nodded, blinking rapidly. “Are the DEA people still messing with you? Still forcing you undercover?”

Good question. Considering Titans of Fire no longer existed, what else could she do for the DEA? “I’m not sure. I have a feeling their case is starting to go cold.” Tori reached for her friend’s arm. “How do you feel about getting out of town for a while? Say, going somewhere warm?”

Mal sighed and turned toward her. “You think that’s a good idea? I do have family in—”

Tori held up a hand. “Don’t tell me. Just go.” If nothing else, she’d protect her friend. She swallowed. At some point in the very near future, she was going to meet up with Agent Franks again. If she didn’t know where Mal was, just what exactly could Tori tell her?