Page 7 of V for Vengeance

I wasn’t sure how I expected a kiss between a man and a woman to differ, but this whole moment was beyond comprehension for my inexperienced brain. I’d be lucky to string a single coherent thought together after this.

The deadly Fae tasted like strawberries and cream, but something lingered in the kiss that warned of danger; that suggested if I was its captive for too long, I might be overcome in some way. That I’d lose myself and never be the same. It made it difficult to focus when the taste of her was both sweet and dangerous.

Her lips were sinfully soft, and the sensation of her body against mine was addictive. Like our bodies were perfectly matched for each other, every curve of mine fit with every curve of hers. It forced my hands into action, mimicking hers by taking a path down her front, consciously avoiding anywhere too forward.

Something inside me responded to the mysterious Fae in a way it never had with Phillip or Sloan. A spark ignited when we touched. The world both moved and stood frighteningly still. The longer our lips merged, the more I needed her; the more I yearned for it all, desperate to do whatever it took to get everything she’d willingly give.

Her fingers danced down my front, scorching my skin wherever she touched, and the pleasure of it battered my lower half. My head knocked back and chest hitched, falling under the spell of her confident caress.

I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t pretend I didn’t want it.

There’d been so much tension between us. My desires came bubbling to the surface the second our lips fused, and now I’d be hard-pressed to smother any of my urges after this. Not after knowing what it was like to touch her.

To kiss her.

The knee between my thighs shifted, and heat took hold of my lower abdomen. My stomach constricted. I fought the pleasure. It was mortifying how hard I had to fight it. Thankfully, before I did something I couldn’t take back, everything ended.

Jo’s eyes slid to the left where our target had once been, and then she pulled away. “Come on,” she entreated, grabbing my hand again. “He’s not suspicious of us anymore.”

“Who?” Her laughing eyes flicked over to me, and it finally clicked. “So, all that was just to put him off our scent?” I asked, following her down the hallway until it peeled off to the left.

Weight landed in my stomach when she nodded, smirking. “Yes, but…maybe that’s not all it was.”

What does that even mean?

Her eyes cut over to me, the sway of her body distracting my gaze for a few seconds. “Maybe I wanted to kiss you.”

I started to ask her why, but she pressed a finger to her lips cutely and then pointed at a door just ahead of us. “It’s go time.”

As was my shitty existence these days, I didn’t have time to digest yet another confusing situation. Instead, I prepared myself mentally for whatever fuckery awaited me on the other side of that access door.

Jo was a little too excited about the kick she landed on the all-metal door. It busted open and barely stayed upright, hanging precariously by its second hinge. Long strings of her purple magic snaked around her arms and waist, growing more agitated by the second.

The dude didn’t stand a chance. Her magic-laced whip struck out. A loud crack hit my ears before our target was taken to the ground by his ankle. Classic. A symbol formed under the surprised Blood Mage, and he was bound by it the second it appeared.

When I found out that Jo preferred a whip over the daggers she always seemed to have in hand, I was surprised to say theleast. I’d only seen her use daggers in a fight. Every time Cash mouthed off, that was what she punished him with. So, when she used her whip during a spar, I learned very quickly that while she was lethal with daggers, she was an absolute sadist holding a whip.

If I hadn’t been the superior being I was, I’d have lash marks for days. Although, I once considered letting her whip strike me so I knew how it felt. Grams’s training had worn off on me. I’d become so curious that I was willing to suffer just to know how best to deal with the pain of her whip’s hit. But even letting the gorgeous Fae whip me on purpose was a step too far into masochistic waters, and I wasn’t ready to admit how often I got those urges.

Evading the broken swing of the door, I strolled into the room and checked for anyone nearby. Lucky for us, this unfortunate bastard was the only one in sight.

The Blood Mage—we’ll call him Blonde-jerk because I’ve forgotten his name after a kiss that turned my head to mush—struggled against the magic binding him. He cursed under his breath when every attempt he made to escape was blocked by a blast of purple, reactively strengthening the magic’s hold on him.

“What the fuck are you?” Blonde-jerk spat, neck strained and body incapacitated by a binding spell only Eros could match.

Jo knelt down next to the immobilized blonde, his brown-red eyes flying from her to me as I made my way over to his other side. “Oh, I think you know. It was only a matter of time before your boss got himself into hot water. Or should I call him…Four.”

Even without training in the elusive art of reading expressions, this dude was practically screaming he knew perfectly well what we were talking about. Despite being immobilized, every part of him confirmed our suspicions.

Fredrick was Four. He was part of the Seven, and once we got to him, he’d be our link to the rest. I tried not to get too excited knowing we’d gotten the first one in our grasp. The other six would come after interrogating this asshat’s leader, and then we could cripple Lux’s operation before he got back on his feet.

Of course, it was never that simple. My life had been one fucked up off-road adventure after another. But I was hopeful now that we’d gotten our first lead.

From what I was told about Blood Mages, they got their power solely from the innocent blood they spilled, so I wouldn’t hesitate to kill these bastards.

And when I removed one of my daggers ready to do just that, Jo shook her head with one side of her mouth quirked up. “Ah-ah. No weapons. Only magic.”

I swallowed around the uncomfortable lump forming in my throat. It’d be the first time I consciously used my magic in public and, nodding, I sheathed my dagger.

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