Page 12 of Fanged Desire
“You knew exactly what to do,” I said, voice breaking the sudden silence.
Kinsley glanced my way, then looked down again, studying the scarlet smudge at her feet. She shrugged, and I kept my eyes on her as she stepped into a cubicle, emerging with a stack of roller towels and crouching to clean up the last of the blood.
I waited patiently as she mulled over her words, eventually tilting her head to look at me. “In my line of work, it’s good to know these things.”
A neat, dismissive answer. I didn’t buy it. There was something too practiced, too precise about the way she had handled the emergency. There was depth there, hidden beneath the gleaming exterior, and I found myself eager to uncover it.
I edged closer, breathing through parted lips to avoid catching the metallic scent of blood on the floor. “Why did Ethan come to find you?”
Kinsley looked up from her crouch, cocking her head to the side like she didn’t understand the question.
“There were plenty of people around,” I rephrased, keeping the smear of red in my peripheral. “But Ethan came straight to you.”
Kinsley only laughed, a lighthearted chuckle that sounded somewhat false as it echoed around the bathroom.
“Ethan always comes to me,” she stated simply, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she scrubbed. “We help each other out. It’s not that unusual.”
There was more to the story, that much was certain, but something told me now was not the time to press. “I guess not…”
I watched in silence as Kinsley cleaned up the scene in the bathroom with the same composed efficiency she’d shown on stage. She wasn’t just a pretty face, wasn’t just a body designed to tantalize and distract. She was smart, intuitive, and quick on her feet. That made her unpredictable, and I hated not knowing what someone’s next move was.
It also made me want her even more.
When Kinsley’s final shift ended, I caught her by the bar as she was grabbing her things. “You sure you don’t need a ride home?”
Kinsley shook her head, a faint smile tugging the corners of her lips. “I’m catching a ride with Ethan, but thank you.”
She must have noticed the distaste in my expression because she laughed, swinging her bag over her shoulder. “Ethan’s not that bad once you get to know him. And I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me.”
I couldn’t fight the frown, something unsettling twisting in my gut. It wasn’t in my nature to worry about – well, anyone. But with Kinsley, the feeling was growing, gnawing at the back of my mind.
I let her go, watching her and Ethan track down a taxi cab, and cast one last look over the desolate club – vacant as the morning drew near.
That was when my eyes met his. Elliot.
The elf was sitting near the back, beady eyes fixed on me like he’d been watching for a while. I froze as those eyes shifted slowly, following his gaze to where it settled on Kinsley as she climbed into the cab.
When his gaze snapped back to mine again, a chill ran down my spine. The look was brief, but loaded with something dangerous.
I turned on my heel and left the club quickly after that, mind racing with mixed emotion. The elf’s interest in Kinsley was troubling, and possibly all my fault. If Elliot was looking for a way to get more from his bargain with the Leyore coven, Kinsley would make the perfect pawn in his game – if he knew she was valuable to one of us.
All the more reason to stay far away from the dancer.
But, of course, that’s not what happened.
Chapter 6
Kinsley
I sat quietly in the cab as it wound through the city streets, gaze fixed on the rain-splattered window. Even at the crack of dawn, the neon lights of the city blurred together in streaks of color, matching the chaotic swirl of thoughts in my poor, aching head.
The events of the night, coupled with my building anxiety as we approached our destination, accumulated into one big headache that no amount of aspirin could possibly alleviate. Beside me, Ethan flicked through his phone, leg bouncing restlessly.
I hadn’t wanted to drag Ethan into my mess, but after what he saw, what he knew, I couldn’t do what I needed to do without him. The name – Penelope – hung in the air between us, unspoken. Penelope was missing, not dead.Definitely not dead.But she felt like a ghost, hovering in my peripheral. Always present, always just out of reach.
"We’re almost there.” Ethan spoke up, breaking the silence and jolting me out of my misery. He glanced over at me, his expression significantly less severe than it had been when Hunter was present.
Something in my own expression made him lower his phone. “You okay?”
