Page 19 of Never Run from an Immortal

“I don—”

Rae reached for her second glass. “Come on, Zeke.” She tipped it towards him in a salute. “We’ve watched porn together. We’re friends now, and friends don’t lie. You’re too smart not to have a backup. Too smart to keep it on your PAD.” She flicked her chin at his device on the table. “Where is it?”

His hand drifted to his chest, and Rae leaned into his space, slid her fingers into his shirt, and clasped them around the necklace she’d spotted earlier, easing him closer until she could smell the ale on his breath. His eyes drifted down to her mouth. “See,” Rae whispered, glancing up at him through her lashes. “Smart. Keep it safe. Now buy me another drink, the waiter’s forgotten about my twenty-minute rule.”

The waiter came and went, depositing more drinks with a swift apology for being late, and Rae peppered Zeke with questions about the ISA. Weyland, the human who led the faction, had always coveted power. Rae wondered if Bax knew, whether he’dknown when he knocked on her door earlier that evening. They’d worked together in the past, Rae was certain of it.

Zeke seemed to relax after a few more drinks, words spilling from him a little more freely. How he’d got involved with Torrin, what he knew about the facility. Snippets of information Rae tucked away for another time. More messages from Nim lit up her PAD—updates on where Reed was taking her on theirepic date, as she’d put it—when Rae realised two things: it was getting late, and she’d gotten every last bit of useful information she was going to get out of her latest drinking partner.

Zeke’s phone chimed, and he frowned at the screen. “I have to go.”

“Shame.” Another spell. This one, a quick illusion. He’d get home and realise there was never any message. Rae leaned in, pressed a hand to the side of his face, and kissed his cheek, her lips close to the corner of his mouth as she unfastened his necklace with nimble fingers, the Fae none the wiser. “Let’s do this again sometime.”

He sucked in a breath, nodded, and then slipped out of the booth on unsteady hooves, nodding again as if he’d decided something. Rae suppressed a chuckle.

“Good night, Rae.”

She waved once, casting her attention back to her PAD. Her last message to Nim had been left on read, asking her friend if she wanted company for the walk home. Rae tried to shove down the worry that mixed with the alcohol, trusting that the little Witch could take care of herself.

A wolf Shifter whistled as she left the Ram, but the night was otherwise quiet once the door slammed behind her. She reached for her PAD, fingers fumbling in her bag to find her earpiece, her attention fixed entirely on why she couldn’t find the fucking thing—which was why it registered a second too late. Movement, behind her. A hand fisting into her hair, an arm around her neck,slamming her back against a hard body. Rae thrust out an elbow, the heel of her boot connecting with a foot.

A male groaned behind her. “You stupid bitch.”

She didn’t turn around to look at him and instead launched into a sprint. Rae only made it a few steps before a body barrelled into her.

Fuck her luck. A bastard Horn, and he’d rammed her like fucking cattle.

The thought barely lasted a second. Rae lost her footing, all the air rushing out of her as she fell under his weight, the night going dark as her head collided with the pavement.

Chapter ten

Aidan took in Rae’s workshop as she began to stir on the floor where he’d deposited her. Tools neatly placed on racks and benches with wooden pins and deerskins hanging underneath. Sketches hung on the walls alongside pictures of Rae and an older man in a few tattered frames, beside newer, unframed snaps of her and the young Witch Aidan knew she worked with. A patchwork of Rae’s life, and her hair and eyes were different in every single photo.

He lit the joint he’d rolled earlier to mask the scent of Rae’s blood, the small wounds she’d received when the Horn had knocked her into the pavement now crusted over. One thought from Aidan and the Fae had peeled himself off her and slammed his head into the nearest wall, over and over until he was dead. Aidan had already been leaving with Rae in his arms at that point.

Even unconscious, she had strong mental shields in place, and though he suspected it might be the jewellery she wore: banglesat her wrists, layers of necklaces, a silver clip over the bridge of her nose, he respected the effort she’d gone to. Most humans threw themselves at Vampires, and the ones that didn’t, the ones that usually signed themselves up to one of the factions, never bothered to shield themselves despite knowing what they were up against.

If he’d gone sifting through her mind when she was out cold, there was a small chance she wouldn’t wake up. And despite whatever rumours may have been spread about him, Aidan never took a life without reason. Despite everything, he was tired of so much bloodshed.

She shifted somewhere on the floor behind him, and he took another long drag of his joint to cover the scent drifting from her.

“Bastard Horns,” Rae grumbled.

He let his Provident senses reach out to her, press at the walls of her mind. Solid.

“Stay the fuck out of my head, Vampire.” She was on her feet with a groan, snatching the joint from his fingertips before taking a deep toke. “You were following me? That seems a little weird, even for you.”

Aidan chuckled dryly. “You’re welcome.” He held her gaze as his fingers wrapped around hers, prising the joint from her hand. This close, the scent of her blood was almost too strong to take. He should have fed before he left the manor.

She held firm for a moment, assessing him before releasing her hold. She’d swiped her pale pink hair over one shoulder, exposing the column of her throat like she was fucking baiting him, but the shadow of the rope marks at her wrists still lingered, and he wouldn’t give in to whatever bullshit game the human wanted to play. He took a step away, continuing his observation of the workshop to put some space between them.

The room was tidy, products out of sight in lock boxes, he assumed, but the sketches and photos on the walls were plenty to go by. Lia’s request turned over in his thoughts. Of what he needed from Rae; if she truly wanted what she said she’d needed from him. “What are you?” A jeweller. A thief. Her business was successful, her finances solid; she had no reason to steal that Aidan could see.

“Multi-talented.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the way she pressed a hand to her wounded head, words murmured under her breath. “I can see that. You know an awful lot of magic for a human. Are the markets improving that much?” He knew the answer; he wanted to hear it from her.

Rae ran a hand through her hair, and it changed from pink to pale turquoise, soft waves lengthening and falling to her waist. “That asshole ripped my shirt.” She glanced over her shoulder to where the Horn had torn the blue fabric as he’d slammed her into the pavement, then held out her hand for what remained of Aidan’s joint. “He taught me everything I know.” She jerked her chin at one of the pictures of her and the old man, blowing her smoke out across the picture until the faces were lost to it. The smallest hint of regret curled in the smoke, but it was gone almost as quickly as it came.

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