Page 4 of Hex and the City
This little fucker. “All fair points,” I said, “except for that.” I pointed at the nearest picture frame. “Roger, Kaitlyn, and little Anita. You’re not in any of these pictures.”
“Very creepy that you know their names, but very professional of you, too.” He never broke eye contact, never once flinched. “I’m a cousin who dropped in for a visit.”
“While they’re on vacation in Cancun?”
“Sure.” He shrugged. “Housesitting.”
Why was he taunting me like this? Why hadn’t he already kicked me in the balls and tried to make a run for it? Probably for the best. From a cursory glance I could tell I was stronger, but I had to admit, this guy would be faster, all wiry and squirrelly.
Actually, why was I even entertaining his mockery in the first place? I grabbed him by the arm, inflamed, my breath coming in deep, low growls. Power was the name of the game, sure. That included intimidation, too.
I pulled him closer, showing him my teeth, showing him I meant business. And still not a single twitch in the muscles of his face, only that mocking, infuriating grin. What was he so happy about?
There was an impishness to him, that playful yet potentially dangerous edge I’d seen on the faces of lesser demons, the more sociable type who didn’t try to eviscerate humans on sight. But this man was no demon. He was just a man, and a very attractive one at that.
Both my lips and my back stiffened. Why was I checking him out, exactly? The guy was clearly competition, and he knew it, too. The confident gleam in his eyes that matched the sparkle of his smile, how his lips puffed and pouted when he blew the loose, lavish curls of his hair away from his face.
“I know you’re just another cat burglar,” I snarled, tugging on his collar. Still no reaction, still nothing on his lips apart from that same knowing smile.
“Another?” he asked. “Then you’re admitting that you’re a cat burglar, too.”
“No, I didn’t, and no, I’m not. I’m a professional. A relic finder. And you? You’re just sloppy.”
The corner of his mouth quivered, a momentary darkening in his eyes. I held back from smiling myself. It was so satisfying, watching his cheerful façade crumble. His brows furrowed, lips turning up into a boyish pout. Offended. Incredibly, annoyingly kissable.
I swallowed, cleared my throat, feeling my defenses giving. “Give me the bag, and no one has to get hurt. Hand it over now, or — ”
“Or what?” He licked his lips, the soft pink of his tongue just a temporary, tempting flicker. This time his grin was defiant, posing a challenge. “What are you going to do to me, you big, strong man?”
Rough fingers crept up the back of my neck, teasing at the line where my hair met my skin. I restrained from shuddering, hardening my muscles, afraid that the rush of blood through my body might result in hardening something else. His fingers tangled, teased, pulled.
Oh, God. Was this really happening? Here, now? Was this magic? It couldn’t be. I should have sensed it. My training. My discipline. Should have —
“Tell me,” said the rascal with the clear brown eyes. “What would you do to me?”
I could hear nothing but the thump of blood in my temples, the faint, pitiful whispers of my breath.
“Fine, then. Don’t speak.”
His long fingers glided across my skin, cupped my jaw. Only a light roughness to his palm, his hand mostly soft, his touch gentle, yet strong. The strange man smiled, brought his face closer, his lips within reach. My mouth parted.
“Here’s what I would do to you,” he muttered, his breath like the slowest, warmest breeze against my skin. What the fuck? This was happening. This was really happening. My lashes, my very heart fluttered in anticipation. I blinked.
I screamed. Towering behind the man was an enormous serpent, its scales as bright and sharp as gemstones, its body undulating like ocean waves. It wasn’t a snake, that much I knew, because snakes didn’t have rows of razor-sharp teeth. Snakes weren’t supposed to breathe fire.
The dragon opened its mouth.
I fell on my ass, kicking at the ground as I scrambled away from the flames, somehow forgetting all of my arcane training. I was shielding my face with my arm, of all things. But the heat, the smoke, the singeing of my skin and flesh never came.
“What the hell just happened?” I stammered, scanning the room before me. Unchanged, unburnt, like the dragonfire had never existed.
The dragon was gone. And so was the smiling man.
3
LEON
My legs carried me up the stairs to the second floor, my blood pounding, my heart thumping as I took two steps at a time. The guy in the leather jacket thought I had the bag on me already. I couldn’t decide if it was better to let him think that, or fess up just to get him off my case.
