Page 28 of Mortal Heart

“I’malwaysup for it, sweet pea.” She glanced down at her boots. “But if I’m going to be bait again, I need to change clothes—unless you think our target’s kink is blondes in ass-kicker casual.”

“No, that’smykink,” he said, because he wanted to hear her laugh again, and because it was true.

Instead of laughing, however, she straddled his lap so they were at eye level. Then she kissed him so fiercely and for so long that for the first time since Michael cast him out he forgot all about his mortal body and bound wings. Nothing else mattered but how good she felt against him. They had places to go and people to kill, but his body had other priorities. He grew hard again.

Rather than thinking about cold showers, he reveled in the raw desire she kindled in his body and soul. He cupped her ass with both hands and kept her from moving away when she broke their kiss.

She chuckled softly in his ear as he gripped her tightly. “Mmm…that feels good,” she murmured. “So, it’s not just my mouth you like, huh?”

“Definitely not just your mouth.” He kissed her again, savoring her fiery taste and scent. “I look forward to findingallthe parts of you I like.”

“Ditto.” She glanced down at the very noticeable evidence of his arousal and put her hand to her chest in mock surprise. “Speaking of which…my goodness, is that all for me?”

He wasn’t sure which turned him on the most: her precision with a blade, her combat skills, her hunter’s smile, or her ability to make him forget all the bullshit in his head.

“Every inch,” he promised. “Just say the word and I’m all yours.”

“That’s the right attitude. I like a man who’s ready to rise to the occasion.” She stood and offered him her hand like a fellow warrior would. “So, back to this trap you’re proposing. Who am I supposed to seduce this time?”

“Nobody.” He gripped her hand and rose. “Youwillneed a different outfit, Miss Woodall, but so do I. I believe Nyx has a rather strict dress code.”

“We’re going straight to Nyx?” She licked her lips in anticipation, which distracted him for a beat. “You mean—?”

“Yes.” He couldn’t help but grin. This was going to be fun. “We’re after Henry Farrell. And this time,I’mthe bait.”

8

ARKADY

From the backof Ronan’s Harley, Arkady spotted the signature purple neon glow of Nyx six blocks before they reached its famous Gothic entrance. The massive club drew hundreds of would-be customers like moths to a flame every night of the week.

Despite the multiple lengthy waivers all who made it past the velvet rope had to sign, most stayed on the main floor. Vampire and human performers provided various kinds of entertainment with just enough of a dangerous edge for the audience to get the rush they sought.

While regular customers sat at floor level, VIPs entered through a different set of doors and watched the shows from luxurious suites with glass walls that ringed the main floor on the second and third floors. Thanks to her time working for the Court, Arkady had witnessed some real horrors in those suites.

As for what went on in the two basement levels, she knew little firsthand—especially about sub-level two. What she’d heard from those who’d ventured there and survived was bad enough, but it was imagining the fates of those whodidn’twalk out that kept her awake some nights. No matter how this played out, or even if she got to stake Farrell tonight, she’d likely be in for more insomnia.

Her phone buzzed two blocks from Nyx’s front door. She checked the message, texted back a terse thanks, and stuck her phone back in her pocket.

“What’s the word?” Ronan asked in their helmets.

He sounded impatient for action. She felt the same way, even as her stomach churned. The heady combination of anticipation and nervous energy made her skin almost crackle with electricity.

“My source says he’s on sub-level two,” she told Ronan. “Likely to be there for a while and looking for ‘adventurous companionship.’”

“Adventurous companionship.” He chuckled. “In other words, someone willing to roll the dice on whether they’ll walk out or leave feet-first. Even most hardcore fang-bangers would balk at that, so we shouldn’t have too much competition. With any luck, I’ll be just his type.”

“With any luck,” she agreed. “But when we’re done, don’t forget who gets to stake him.”

He squeezed her hand where it rested on his waist. “I won’t forget.”

“Don’t touch me without my permission,” she snapped. “Remember who you serve. Don’t make me punish you.”

“Yes, Mistress.” He let go instantly. “I’m sorry, Mistress.”

She smiled but kept her voice stern. “Don’t let it happen again.”

“Yes, Mistress.” He sounded truly contrite and subdued, like the perfect submissive.

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