Page 15 of Shamrocked
“He wassointo you.”
My cheeks heated despite the brisk winter air. “I think it’s just this treasurekeeper thing.”
“Hmm, no, I don’t think so. That makes it more complicated. After all, that puts him in competition with four men. Well, three and a gargoyle.” She chuckled and bumped my shoulder with her elbow playfully. “Look at you go, girl. You’re killing it now that you finally got rid of the asshole.”
She’d never liked Jonathan, but she’d said her piece and then kept her silence until I told her how unhappy I was. Then Vivi was all over it, giving me a place to live without question. I hadn’t told her half the shit I’d lived the last few years. I didn’t want to break her heart.
“So what’s the plan?”
I grimaced and shrugged. “Get out alive? I don’t know. I guess I want to see how much Doran told me is true, and if I can get them to believe me.”
“And when they don’t?” She asked lightly.
“I make them believe me. Somehow.”
I stuck my hand out to grab the doorknob, but the door cracked open by itself. Weirded out, I tried to tell myself it hadn’t been shut all the way. Music poured out in a clash of drums and screaming guitar. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open the rest of the way and stepped inside.
The front room was set up like a tattoo parlor, or at least what I imagined one would look like, with a customer service desk and a couple of workstations on either side. Artwork covered the walls, all very graphic and bold, mostly with a Gothic touch. Lots of skulls: roses with skulls, skulls with snakes, and skulls with crosses. The quality of the artwork was really good. One of the snakes arched up off the wall, eyes flashing, and at first glance, I really expected it to strike us as we walked by. It looked that real.
Light gleamed from beneath a door marked “Office.” I laid my hand on the door and felt the wood thumping with the music a moment, and then it flew open so quickly I jumped back into Vivi. The door crashed into the wall. Someone killed the music, but my ears still throbbed with the memory of that bass. Several round tables filled the room, and a dozen or so men all suddenly turned to stare at us.
“Wow, way to go, Ri,” she whispered a little too loudly now that the music had stopped. “You definitely got their attention.”
“I didn’t do it,” I whispered back. “I barely touched the door.”
A bearded man with a big, burly chest pushed up out of his chair. He wore a leather vest and faded jeans, tats all over his arms and throat. He took a swig from the long-neck bottle in his hand and then said, “We’re closed.”
“That’s not one of them, is it?” Vivi whispered.
Shaking my head, I scanned the other men in the room. They all looked like biker guys, with leather jackets or vests, jeans, and thick-soled boots. A bit rough around the edges, but I didn’t get a bad vibe from them. A few men sat in the back corner, where it was darker. Something tugged deep in my stomach when I looked at them, but I didn’t head over right away.
I focused on the man who’d stood up. He looked from me to Vivi and back, his eyes getting a dazed look in them that told me he didn’t deal with a lot of women. Or maybe he was just easily fazed by the opposite sex. “Uh, you…” He stammered. “Do you ladies… uh… need some help or something?”
With Vivi solidly at my side, I gave the man the cutest smile I could muster. “Aye, in fact, we do. I’m hoping you can help me find someone.”
“Here? Are you sure you got the right place?”
The trick was knowing which man to ask for. Of the three, who was the leader, if Doran wasn’t with them? I decided to go with the meanest-looking man I’d painted. “I think so. I’m looking for Aidan.”
The man’s eyes flared and he gulped. “What does a lady like you want with the Slaughterer?”
Slaughterer? Fuck. Aidan’s picture floated in my head again, that vicious scowl, the swords crossed beneath the skull. Aidan was supposed to be the spear, but the deadly blades kept flashing through my mind.
A chair scraped across the floor, drawing my attention back to the darkened corner as a man stood up. He wore a black leather jacket, the same as in my painting, but it didn’t have the skull and crossed swords painted on it. He turned to face me, but stayed in the shadows. His shoulders were broad, but he had a way of standing slouched and casual, as though he wasn’t dangerous, even though I sensed coiled strength hidden under that leather jacket.
“Are you Aidan?” I asked softly, trying to focus on his face despite the shadows.
“Who wants to know?”
His voice sent chills of dread trickling like icy fingers down my spine. Flat, dead, hard, his tone said he wasn’t to be fucked with. He’d cut a man who looked at him sideways. “Me.”
He laughed roughly and sat back on the table with casual masculine arrogance that set my teeth on edge. “Right, little girl. If it’s me you’re wanting to talk to, you can come on over and we’ll have a grand chat.” The lascivious tone on that last word told me he didn’t mean talking.
Little girl?Rage shot through me and I stiffened, my chin tipping up. I might be short, but the fuck if any man was going to call me a girl. Or talk down to me. Or make me feel small, ever again.
Vivi grabbed at my arm. She knew all too well that’d piss me off. I shook her off and marched over to the table, my eyes locked on the asshole’s face. As I neared, I could make out a trimmed beard on his jaws, short cropped brown hair, and baby blue eyes that looked so at odds with the deep furrow between his eyes and the fierce slant of his lips. He wore a plain white T-shirt under the jacket and he sat sprawled and careless on the table, arms crossed, that smug smirk on his lips despite his ferocity.
His eyes glittered with amusement, but there was a hint of darkness, too. A bit of recognition, maybe even dread. He had to know I was the treasurekeeper, even if he had no clue who I was. Electricity hummed in the air as I neared him. Surety ringing like a gong in my head.
