Page 5 of The Demon's Sinful Serenade
Rain and citrus with something earthier underneath, something that made every instinct I possessed snap to attention. My tail twitched, my muscles tensed, and for one disorienting moment, I had the overwhelming urge to cross the room and press my face against her neck.
What the fuck?
I'd smelled thousands of humans before. None had ever affected me like this. It felt like someone had cranked my temperature up twenty degrees in two seconds flat.
Blue's eyes widened slightly as she took in the sweat-damp shirt, my bare feet, the way I was staring. She straightened her spine, lifting her chin. Defiant. Ready for a fight.
"Are you the boss?" she asked, her voice husky with a slight rasp that sent another jolt through my system.
"One of them." Poppy stepped forward and gave me a small nod. "Zane. It's been a while."
I dragged my attention from Blue long enough to return the baker's nod. "Poppy. Didn't expect to see you here."
The words sounded rough and strange to my own ears. I cleared my throat, trying to regain some semblance of professionalism while my body continued its bizarre rebellion. I needed distance. Needed to get my head on straight.
Blue turned her eyes back on me, and rooted me to the spot. "You two know each other?"
"You know how small this town is," Poppy said with a shrug. "Everyone knows everyone."
I crossed my arms, partly to look intimidating, mostly to stop myself from reaching out to touch this stranger. "Which is why I'm wondering who this is, and what you two want."
"River Rathbone," Blue said, extending her hand. "Musician. Former local. Current mess."
The name clicked. River & Rath. Decently popular angsty indie shit, though I preferred anything from the 80s or 90s that sounded like it wanted to stab me in a dirty alley.
I took her hand. The moment our skin touched, electricity shot up my arm like I'd jammed my finger in a socket. River felt it too, judging by how quickly she yanked her hand back.
"Sorry," she muttered, rubbing her palm against her jeans. "Static."
That wasn't static.
"So, what brings you to our door at this hour?" I asked, stepping back to put some much-needed space between us.
River glanced at Poppy, who nodded encouragingly. "I need security. Vanin from One Hop Stop suggested you might be able to help. Said you handle... unusual problems."
I raised an eyebrow. "Define unusual."
"Someone's trying to sabotage my performances. Maybe kill me." She laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Sounds crazy, right? That's what everyone else thinks."
"I don't do crazy judgments. I do threat assessments." I gestured toward the hallway. "Let's talk in the conference room."
The conference room had come far from our original table floating between gear and unpacked boxes. Malak had rigged up a large television for presentations—and the occasional bad movie night—while Talia added threats disguised as ambiance with displays of weapons and trophies from our successful missions.
"So," I said, dropping into a seat across from River. "I need to know everything. When this started, any patterns, anyone who might want to hurt you."
River hesitated, glancing at Poppy again. I raised an eyebrow. Again.
"It started after Julian died," she said finally. "About a year ago."
"Julian?"
"My bandmate." Her voice flattened. "Julian Rathaway. The Rath to my River." She swallowed hard. "He overdosed."
The pain in her voice was raw, but something in her expression suggested there was more to the story. Poppy's tight-lipped reaction confirmed it. I wanted to press for details, but the wounded look in River's eyes made me hold back.
"And the stalking started after his death?" I asked.
The shadow of death.The witch's words pulsed behind my eyes like the beginnings of a migraine.
