FJ_RCRestrictions

Rookery Cove: Restrictions Applied

Fiona Jayde

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ISBN: 978-1-59596-869-2
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Changeling Press LLC
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Editor: Chrissie Henderson
Cover Artist: Karen Fox

Rookery Cove: Restrictions Applied

Fiona Jayde

Maya Drake is employed by Rookery Cove to catch a telekinetic psychopath. All she
has to do is find the guy, work her spell and cash the check since this witch can

freeze a perp at twenty paces and have him wrapped and waiting for the boys in
blue.

Ex-cop Joe Holland doesn’t think it’s all that easy.

A septiel, able to replicate himself into a squad of seven men, Holland is hired to
stop the creep who pops in and out of Rookery Cove. As the attraction to his Kevlar
and micro-mini clothed partner grows, Holland decides to burn the little witch out of

his system -- even if he has to split into two, or three, or four, just to exhaust her.

As the threats against the Cove residents increase, Maya and Holland must find a

way to work together, maintain their professional relationship, and keep their minds
off sex.

Prologue

He chased the meds with Stoli. The little red pills were supposed to keep the rage

from spreading. Lately they didn’t seem to work that well.

He didn’t really need them, of course. He could control the rage -- if he chose to

do so. The pills were just a safety, a crutch. They suppressed what was inside him; they

supposedly helped him “integrate” into this society of corporate posers and capitalistic

pussies.

They didn’t integrate him into Rookery Cove Aphrodisiacs. How hard was it to

QA dildos or lube or God knows what else? He’d looked up what Quality Assurance

did. It wasn’t difficult. Hell, he was willing to volunteer his own body for it -- all in the

name of capitalism. They just didn’t pick him. They didn’t even call him back. A form

letter. A fucking form letter.

With trembling fingers he unfolded the crushed paper and reread the printed

text. Thank you for your interest in Rookery Cove Aphrodisiacs. Unfortunately your

qualifications do not match the skills we’re looking for at this time. Your resume will be kept on

file… Blah, fucking blah.

He tore the paper in half, then in half again, until nothing was left but shreds,

and still he kept at it, stopping only when the pieces became too small. A swipe of his

hand sent them falling like snowflakes to the floor.

We will keep your resume on file. Fuckers.

The bottle of Stoli somehow flew out of his hand. It crashed against the wall,

showering the carpet with shards of glass and Russia’s finest.

He was fine. He was in control. But they… He focused on the torn envelope he

hadn’t shredded yet.

Chapter One

Security Head Manx actually seemed more interested in her resume rather than

her rack. Maya didn’t see much of his face as shadows swirled around him, and yet she

knew that other than the first preliminary glance, her looks didn’t hold much interest

for him.

It was so strange she nearly tanked the interview.

Her resume was good -- hell, it was killer. She kept her clients safe. She always

managed to “somehow” stop whatever psycho had been after them. And if she did say

so herself, she always looked good doing it. LA mantra -- gotta look good. She could

walk the party crowd and still freeze a man at twenty paces. Those Hollywood types

didn’t care how she did her thing -- she kept them safe, she looked damned good and

they didn’t ask any more questions.

Manx, with his shadows, had taken one look and asked what sort of witch she

was. He didn’t ask for demonstrations. And still he hired her.

So strange to not have to sashay her way into a job. And face it, Drake, your

freezing spell won’t keep you looking younger. And the only other skill she had -- the want

spell -- only brought her trouble. It would be good to build up a professional rep, to

study some combat skills, to be an actual bodyguard instead of arm candy with a time-

freeze finger.

But hell, this was her specialty. Even though Mr. Manx wasn’t attracted to her,

she understood her looks were part of his setup. A honey trap of sorts -- bait the psycho

close, then freeze him. She didn’t know what Manx would do with him afterwards, but

after the check cashed, she wouldn’t care much.

Fiona Jayde

Rookery Cove: Restrictions Applied

- 8 -

So here she was at Rookery Cove, her bulletproof vest fitted under her leather

jacket, her softest leather mini on her hips and thigh-high boots that needed to be

broken in. They killed her feet but looked as hot as hell.

She hoped she wouldn’t scuff the heels as she walked on a dirt road toward the

North Lagoon. Her partner would be there -- he was already on the island, and right

now, investigating yet another incident. Fat good she’d do going there after the fact, but

she could at least meet this “partner.”

It would be interesting working with a cop. Joe Holland -- ex NYPD. Maya

figured it would be his job to figure out where the perp would show up. Then she

would let her fingers do the talking.

She had two spells that she’d inherited from a human mother and wizard father:

she could make people want and she could freeze them. The want spell spelled disaster

every time. The freeze spell kept them stunned until she figured out what to do with

them. Not much for a great witch, but it kept her bank account happy.

The ex-cop who would be her partner was probably an old retired gent. She’d

have him wrapped around her finger with a little smile and a few winks. He’d find the

perp, she’d freeze the perp, they’d get their paychecks and live happily ever after.

Easy money.

* * *

“He simply pushed apart the boxes and then… vanished.” The incredulous voice

was all the more ironic considering its owner sprouted feathers around his neck -- and

not as clothing. The man was somehow part bird. Fluttering hands, his Adam’s apple

bobbed as he spoke.

“All right, Mr. --”

“Quentin.” Those hands fluttered again, settling on a nicely plumped up

stomach. “Just Quentin.”

“And you’re sure you aren’t hurt, Mr. Quentin?” Holland kept his voice brisk

even as the smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Grinning at the witness wasn’t

exactly per procedure, but then again, the investigating officer wasn’t a cop anymore.

Fiona Jayde

Rookery Cove: Restrictions Applied

- 9 -

He pushed the thought out of his head but not before it churned his gut a bit. I

will take a good hard look at this. Twelve broken bones, including a femur. What in the hell were

you thinking? Holland wasn’t. The guy had been raping a young girl, her screams

blending in with pumping music from the surrounding clubs. Holland had lost control.

He’d split into three. The perp was strong, hyped up on drugs and power -- he didn’t

like being interrupted. When the state let him go, Holland had quit the force.

The urge to grin had passed. “Can you describe the man?”

More flutters. “Well… that is… I didn’t exactly see him. I mean I did, of course,

but I didn’t, I can’t remember what he looked like. He moved so fast really, and --”

Those nervous hands plucked at the feathers at his neck.

“It’s all right, Mr. Quentin. Whatever you can remember.”

“Well… but…”

“Do you remember if his hair was dark? Blond? Maybe something covered it?”

For a moment Quentin’s hands stilled. “Dark, now that you say. Although… No,

it was a cap. One of those silly baseball caps… backward.”

Holland took his time jotting it into his notebook.

“His back was toward me…” Once more those birdlike hands fluttered. “And

when he turned and threw the MerDils right at me, and…”

Holland knelt down to pick up a curved, plastic blue penis from the mess of

them scattered on the floor. The curve had been exaggerated to a point of

ridiculousness. He didn’t know much about mermaid anatomy -- hell, two weeks ago

he would’ve laughed his ass off at anyone suggesting mermaids had anatomies. He

figured the device curved more to penetrate and find the female through the outer -- he

didn’t know the name for it so he just called it “fish” part.

“He was looking at these when you startled him?” Nonchalantly, Holland held

up the MerDil, pretending like holding a dildo during an investigation was an everyday

occurrence.

“Yes, he was rummaging through the boxes. And muttering…” The bird-man

paused, his nose wrinkling in thought. “He muttered something about the QA lab. I’m

Fiona Jayde

Rookery Cove: Restrictions Applied

- 10 -

not sure why -- these had been tested already and are ready for shipment. The box has

the stamp on it and --”

The man stopped. Just stopped, his mouth gaping. Still holding the damned

dildo in his hand, Holland turned. The sight that greeted him sent a sucker punch

straight into his stomach.

A combination of Vampirella and Trinity, the woman was both gorgeous and

lethal. Full lips were slicked a murder-red. Eyelashes a mile long surrounded dark eyes

full of allure and wicked promises. A cap of shiny black hair contrasted against creamy

skin that looked too delicate to be exposed to the cheerful sunshine of the island. That

tall, superbly muscled body was packed into leather, and if he wasn’t mistaken, Kevlar -

- those thigh-high boots molding truly spectacular legs.

He wondered what she’d look like without all that gunk over her face -- and with

those legs wrapped around his shoulders. Then she raised one single eyebrow and

Holland remembered he was holding up a curved, blue dildo.

Great.

“You’re Holland?” Like the rest of her, that voice was gut-punch sexy.

“Yeah.” He watched her make her way toward him -- graceful on killer heels.

They boosted her at least five inches and put her eye to eye. And crotch to crotch.

Get over yourself, Holland.

She made her way to him, flashing a kilowatt smile. He didn’t know if it was at

himself or Birdman. “Maya Drake.” She stuck out a hand, a gesture so briskly normal it

had him blinking. “I’m with you on this.”

He didn’t take her hand, just let it hang there in front of him. This confidence in

that smooth voice was both arousing and irritating. “You’re with me on…” He let the

phrase hang, deliberately insulting.

She didn’t appear fazed. “The case. Didn’t Manx call you?”

Her hand was still outstretched toward him. The birdman was in danger of

hurting his neck from whipping his head back and forth between them.

Fiona Jayde

Rookery Cove: Restrictions Applied

- 11 -

“Nobody called me.” He needed to finish with Quentin before taking this little

matter up with Corporate. Sure, he wasn’t a cop anymore. Sure, he needed the cash. But

he’d be damned if he’d be partnered up with Vampirella -- even if she was sexy as hell.

“Well, you’re stuck with me, cop man.” She put away her hand, and sent a little

wink toward Birdman. The man’s feathers plumped up while he busied himself sucking

in his stomach. Typical.

“We’ll deal with this later.” Holland directed his attention back to Quentin,

forcing himself to show a friendly smile. It didn’t have as much effect of course, but it

got Birdman’s attention. “Mr. Quentin, do you have security cameras here?”

“Um. Well, that is, yes but…”

“Mr. Quentin.” That honeyed voice was both commanding and amused. Holland

gritted his teeth against the silky power of it. “Where can we see the security tapes?”

Fluttering hands again. “You see… the security cameras… well, I’m sure we have

them, but I don’t know where they record or…”

“Would Mr. Manx know?” Again that honeyed soothing voice. Holland

would’ve told her to shut it but he’d be stupid to clam up the witness who was

obviously responding to her. Hell, Holland’s own cock was responding to her.

“Well, I suppose, that it… yes.”

“Excellent.” A slow and dazzling smile. “If we have more questions, may we

come see you?” A hint of seduction now, her hand reaching out to briefly touch feathers

on the shoulder.

“Of course! Why, anything that I can do to help, it would be a great pleasure.”

Quentin kept babbling on even as Holland headed out of the shipping section.

Vampirella walked behind him, those boots eating up ground with each stride.

“Manx has gotta have security cameras,” he heard her say. “Our next step --”

“Our?” He turned around, didn’t anticipate her being so close. Eye to eye, sex to

sex. Her scent -- dark and seductive -- infused his senses. Back off, Sparky. “Let’s get a

few things clear.” He didn’t back away -- he refused to let her have the advantage. She

didn’t move either. The heat from her was almost palatable.

Fiona Jayde

Rookery Cove: Restrictions Applied

- 12 -

“Yes, let’s.” Under the Kevlar, the tempting swell of breasts rose and fell with

each one of her breaths. “Manx hired me on this, whether you approve or not. You find

our guy. I freeze him. We both get paid and we’re done here. Clear?”

Her voice had gotten crisper, all hint of the amused seduction gone. Holland

refused to be aroused by it. “And how exactly are you going to freeze --” He was stuck.

Couldn’t move, couldn’t finish a sentence. Couldn’t split into two or three or all seven.

Through eyes that couldn’t move he saw her smile. “Like this. So put the ’tude

away.” A movement of her fingers had him breathing again. He hadn’t realized he’d

stopped. “Got any other questions?” That arched dark eyebrow was back up again,

those lips curved in amusement. And damn if he didn’t want to put his mouth on them.

So she could freeze your ass again?

He cleared his throat. “Fine. Let’s go find your Manx.” And clear this little matter

up.

Chapter Two

Maya didn’t know where the urge came from. The need to show off had never

been a part of her. At least in terms of magic. Sure she showed off her looks -- hell, who

didn’t in LA. But magic wasn’t something she would use in anger or frustration. She

always prided herself on her control -- in that at least.

Detective Yum with his broad chest and gloomy personality managed to break

through her restrictions. The resulting freeze was both embarrassing and satisfying.

At least she’d been able to study him for those few seconds without him noticing

her staring. God, he was good looking -- mocha skin stretched over a granite jaw, full

and firm lips she would’ve loved to nibble on. His eyes were pure light green and

narrow as they stared at her with mistrust and disapproval.

Wrapping this one around her finger wasn’t going to be nearly as easy as she’d

thought. Maybe if she snuck in the want spell? No. She’d made that mistake twice,

made her own self the object of the spell, and made a client desire her. Hollywood men,

so beautiful it hurt to breathe looking at them -- they wanted her when the spell took

hold but when the morning came they treated her like day-old socks. Three times was

not going to be the charm. She’d have to win Detective Yum the old fashioned way.

Pure sex appeal. That at least had never backfired on her.

“So now you know why Manx hired me,” she muttered, just because the thick

silence that followed had stretched too long. They walked along the island, the green

grass of the hills somehow making her think of Scotland. Beyond the hills, she smelled

the salty essence of the sea.

“Can you twitch your nose?” His voice was flat as he kept walking, not even

throwing her a glance. Probably pissed.

“At least I can protect myself and others. And you got what -- death stares?”

Fiona Jayde

Rookery Cove: Restrictions Applied

- 14 -

He turned abruptly, something dark flickered in his eyes. She wondered what

his “thing” was. Surely a company for paranormals would tend to hire paranormals.

Manx must’ve had a reason to hire him, and not only for extraordinary sex appeal.

It was daylight -- the cop wasn’t burning in the sun. Plus she didn’t see any

semblance of fangs. Perhaps a shifter of some kind? She’d guess a bear with all that

sparkling personality.

“Come on, cop man. Show me what you got.” Maybe she was a fool to taunt him,

but hey, he broke through her control. She couldn’t work the want spell and just let him

suffer lusting after her -- not without repercussions. At least, she would return the

favor.

He remained silent, walking the hills, that granite jaw clenched.

“Come on,” she chanted softly. “I showed you mine. You gotta show me yours.”

He turned so suddenly Maya nearly stumbled back. She forced herself to look at

those intense eyes, and was thrilled to discover something akin to passion burning

there. Lust, dark and dangerous, lanced though her as he took one single swift step

forward.

She froze him.

He grabbed her from behind, his hands large and strong against her waist, his

cock already hard as he pulled her against him. “Careful what you ask for,” he said.

Then he was in front of her, pushing her back against the body behind her, his eyes still

dark, and yet, above his shoulder she could see him, standing, frozen, not moving.

Mind swirling in confusion, excitement pumping through her with exhilarating bursts,

Maya opened her mouth to scream. Instead his mouth covered hers, two bodies

sandwiched her against his heat. And she was lost.

A part of him was frozen. A part of him was burning up.

The need to take was vicious, clawing at his belly, throbbing in his balls. He

pressed himself as close as he could get to her, his cock against her ass, his cock against

her sex. Her small hands were still clamped over his wrists that held her back against

Fiona Jayde

Rookery Cove: Restrictions Applied

- 15 -

him. He devoured her mouth, tongues mating, tasting her, exploring her. And when

she moaned against his lips his shattered sanity returned.

He tore his mouth away. “End the spell. Now.” He couldn’t breathe without her

scent invading his senses. Those hands no longer clenched over his wrists. A flicker and

the third part of him was free. He pulled them all inside the one that was in front of her,

his mouth hovering over those lush lips. With her lipstick smeared, she didn’t look as

dangerously lethal to his senses. Just thoroughly kissed. And hell help him if he didn’t

want to kiss her again. “Got what you wanted?” He rasped the words and hoped she

didn’t hear his heart pounding.

“Let go.” It was a mere whisper.

“I’m not touching you.”

She took a staggering step back, watched him with eyes full of erotic darkness.

“We’re to work together.”

He’d see about that. Still, he nodded in response.

“I would appreciate if we restricted it to being professional.”

It was his turn to raise an eyebrow. “As this… getup you’ve got on is what you

call professional?”

She went from simmer to ice cold. He didn’t know what happened, but he could

feel the coolness emanating from her skin. “I’m from Hollywood.” Dignity was like an

iron shield around her. “Consider this business attire.” Somehow she made it sound

vile.

Long legs encased in leather ate up the trail as she started walking again, not

bothering to see if he would follow. Holland refused to listen to the voice that screamed

“you bastard” in his head. She dressed like this by choice. Surely she would expect

remarks on that. If he felt like a heel for calling her on it, it was his own problem.

He followed her higher up the hill and kept his thoughts on Quentin and the

case, instead of focusing on the leather-clad butt ahead of him.

Fiona Jayde

Rookery Cove: Restrictions Applied

- 16 -

That’s when the screaming started. High-pitched and terrified, female, a number

of them, somewhere below the hill. Holland shared a startled glance with Maya before

hoofing it down the hill, running toward the green waters of the lagoon.

He saw the mermaids, their jewel-colored hair whipping in the waters, tails

kicking up waves, arms flailing as they thrashed and screamed and screamed. A man

whipped water to a froth next to the one with orange flaming hair. She fought him,

arching away before he simply laughed and vanished -- only to reappear again, next to

the one with stunning amber hair, his shoulders moving as if his hands were reaching

toward her in the water.

Holland couldn’t see through all the froth. Breath pumping in his throat, he

raced to the hard rocks of the lagoon, eyes scanning, hands going for his weapon. His

belt was empty save for pepper spray and cuffs. He wasn’t a cop anymore, and civilians

weren’t allowed a gun during travel. Nevertheless, he charged onto the rocks and dove

for the man only to come up empty handed, hearing just a faint manic laugh.

Another scream, this time above him. Maya. A figure in front of her, holding

some sort of curved blue object, advancing toward her.

Freeze him! He saw her arms move and the figure disappeared, appearing behind

her. He saw the face, a gruesome twisted smile, the blue dildo gripped knifelike in a

black-gloved hand. The end that was designed for pleasure was carved to a sharp point.

Holland split into four, one racing toward Maya, the other three intent on

tackling the perp. Blood roaring in all his ears he heard her breathing as he pushed her

to the ground, protecting her while the remaining three attacked the man -- who

vanished just as three pairs of hands closed over him.

He gasped for breath and returned into the one that still held Maya. “Why didn’t

you freeze him?”

Those dark eyes were wide in shock. “I… I did.”

* * *

The man kissed like a god. And had saved her ass.

Fiona Jayde

Rookery Cove: Restrictions Applied

- 17 -

Maya took another breath, and forced her hands to not shake as she took out a

small compact and repaired the damage to her lipstick. There. Slick, shiny, not smeared

off first by that kiss and then the sheer terror that followed.

She froze the man. She was sure she did. Somehow his ability to disappear

managed to keep the spell off and him moving. How -- she had no idea. And she was

sure Holland would press the point.

The office was a contrast of shadows and light, red leather furniture and a

massive wooden desk. The man who walked in looked like he was surrounded by

shadows.

“One of the mermaids is in serious condition.” Manx didn’t bother with

preliminaries. “Three have been violated. We aren’t any closer to a solution.” The

shadows settled into a chair behind the massive desk.

“I’ve taken their statements.” Holland’s voice was clipped and flat. “If you could

get the security disks, I’ll review those and compare. Oh, and --” he said it as if an

afterthought --”get rid of the witch.”

She sat up as if something had bitten her on the ass. “I beg your --”

Manx waved a shadowed hand before she could continue. “All seven of you

won’t do much good once he disappears. The witch --” Maya could have sworn those

red glowing eyes threw her an amused glance -- “will slow him down.”

“She didn’t just now.”

“Neither did you,” she spat out hotly. Yummy or not, he wouldn’t take the job

from her.

“I wasn’t the one he was going after with a sharpened dildo.”

She stood now, crossed her arms in front of her and took a breath to calm her

temper. “I didn’t thank you for your help -- I apologize.” His quick look of surprise

boosted her confidence. “I fully admit -- I failed to freeze him. But you’ll be interested

as to why.” She paused. Manx simply looked at her in silence.

“Fine. I’ll bite.” Holland crossed his arms as well. “Why?”

Fiona Jayde

Rookery Cove: Restrictions Applied

- 18 -

“He’s a telekinetic. Magic or somehow a mental ability -- doesn’t matter in this

case. He transports himself from place to place -- and what we still need to figure out is

how he knows where to go. I didn’t stop him because he --” again Maya paused,

searching for the right word --”phased out, if you will. We need to slow him long

enough so I can freeze him.”

“And you propose to do this how?” The cop man’s tone was laced with irritated

sarcasm.

“I’m tired of this bickering.” The voice inside the shadows was both irritated and

amused. “You both will find a way to maintain a professional relationship. How you do

that is your problem.” There was a short pause as if to emphasize. “The data and

security vids from past incidents are already in a laptop at the guesthouse. Maya, look

over it; come up with options to slow him down.”

She fought the urge to snap off a salute. “Yes, sir.”

Holland just raised an eyebrow. “I was told there was only one guesthouse on

the island?”

“Concerned about your reputation?” She should’ve kept her mouth shut but the

words bubbled out before she could stem them.

He simply smirked. “Should I be?”

“Humans.” The man inside the shadows heaved a sigh. “There are two

bedrooms so you can keep your reputations safe. We’ll meet in the morning.”

And that was that.

Chapter Three

Sweat stained the shapeless gray thing she’d thrown on. No makeup, no high

heels, she ran as if Manx and his hellhounds were chasing her -- teeth gritted, her hands

fisted at her sides.

The weight had crept up on her again -- those pesky seven pounds that went

right to her ass. Maya had only herself to blame -- control in terms of food had always

been a battle. Her sweat was payment.

It poured out of her as she pounded through minutes on the treadmill, counting

each second, her eyes glued to the blinking circle that indicated distance. Almost three

miles. Almost.

Oxygen burned her lungs, she sucked in air, pushed it out. Imagined those

damned seven pounds disappearing -- and maybe a few more if she was lucky.

From the corner of her eye she spotted Holland. The man had come in twice

already -- backing away each time. Another reason she was running -- something to

drain the lust pumping through her.

She watched in the mirror as he walked in, even more yummy now that the

starch had gone out of his back. And even more dangerous. She jerked her gaze back to

the blinking display. Just half a lap more.

“You always run at midnight?”

She was too out of breath to answer him. Instead she concentrated on the

changing seconds. Thirty. Twenty-nine. Come on, damn you. Come on.

Holland watched her -- she could feel his gaze over her body. She looked like

shit and smelled much worse. She didn’t have to worry about him pulling anything like

that kiss earlier.

Fifteen more seconds.

Fiona Jayde

Rookery Cove: Restrictions Applied

- 20 -

She pretended not to watch him move around the room that had been made into

a gym. His plain white tee revealed amazing muscles -- and a tribal-looking tat circling

some major biceps action. Yum.

Five more. Four.

She clenched her teeth and pounded her feet. Just a few more. Just a few -- There.

The machine beeped in victory. She held onto the rails as it slowed down, and walked

to stabilize her pulse and heartbeat. Another day of torture done.

He watched her still. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Maya caught the light blue towel he tossed at her, used it to wipe her face. She

wouldn’t look at herself in the mirror -- not with him all buff and masculine while she

looked like a flushed sweaty mess. “I couldn’t sleep.” Her voice came out husky. She

hoped he would attribute that to running and not her clenching belly.

“Me either. You know why?”

She frowned at him, and reached for the bottle of stream water. “Why?” Not that

she cared.

“Sexual tension.”

Maya nearly spat out her water. “Excuse me?”

He leaned against the wall, arms crossed over the massive chest, so yummy she

just wanted to go over and lick him. Except she was a sweaty mess and…

“I’ve seen it before on the force. Partners become attracted to each other. Tension

so thick you can smell it. Stupid mistakes because they’re more concerned about what

the other thinks.”

“What are you getting at?” She had a feeling she wasn’t going to like the answer.

“I say we get it over with.” That voice was too damned cocky for her taste.

“Get over what, exactly?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Sex. I’m attracted to you. Judging by the way you

kissed me back, I’m assuming you’re attracted to me. I say we burn it out and forget it

about it.”

Fiona Jayde

Rookery Cove: Restrictions Applied

- 21 -

“Just… like that?” Did she somehow conduct the want spell? Subconsciously?

This was ridiculous and insane and…

He shrugged. “Why the hell not?”

She stank like holy hell, for one thing. “Look, contrary to what you think of me,

I’m too professional to sleep with clients.”

Holland blocked her way as she tried to brush past him. “I’m not a client. And

professionalism is exactly what I’m talking about. We burn each other out -- we get rid

of the tension and keep our professionalism. Seems logical to me.”

Maybe the running had muddled something in her brain, because it certainly

started to seem logical to her. She couldn’t have done the spell, she was damned sure of

it. “I need to shower,” she told him, backing away, needing time to analyze, to think

about it. “And then I’m going to bed -- alone.” She pushed right by him, senses

humming. “Oh and you might consider working on your delivery. That professionalism

line won’t do it for most women. Certainly did nothing for me.”

Head high, she marched into her bedroom, slammed the door and fumed.

He’d managed to piss her off again and this time he hadn’t even tried.

Working his biceps, Holland pumped the weights and damned all women -- her

in particular -- to hell. He didn’t need this complication, this attraction he felt toward

her. Sex seemed like the best and logical response. Get it done and out of the way. Move

on.

His arms had already started aching as he tried to burn the lust away. Damn, she

was hot -- even in sweats and shiny skin. He would’ve enjoyed washing every delicious

inch of her. His breathing quickened as he thought of her naked, the water beading over

that smooth pale skin. And then he looked up and by some magic she was there.

Naked and wet.

Her eyes were dark and challenging. “I think I’ve reconsidered.” Her breasts

were tipped with pink hardening buds. Droplets of water slid over her skin, her dark

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hair shiny and slick over her shoulder. Without makeup, wearing only soft, wet skin,

she looked more dangerous than before.

He dropped the weight and stood up. “What changed your mind?” A part of

him wanted to grab and feast. A part of him was terrified she’d turn to smoke and

disappear.

“You gonna talk or fuck?”

That did it. “Fuck.” He watched her eyebrow lift in triumph.

He knew what she was doing. This display of wet, pink skin was nothing but a

smooth attempt to make him fumble. She wanted control and he had no intention of

letting her on top.

He split in two, slowly walking toward her as he circled to get behind her.

“How many can you do?” There was a hint of nerves in that low voice. He liked

hearing it.

“Seven at most.” He took another step toward her, watched her take a small step

back. His grin was quick and feral.

“What are you?”

Another step and he was one small inch away from all that moist smooth skin.

“Septiel.” He took her scent in, soap and female. “You gonna talk,” he murmured just

over her lips, “or fuck?”

He cruised over her mouth before she breathed the answer, cradled her between

his bodies, letting his heat surround her. Her skin was moist and hot against him, her

hair raw, wet silk.

He nibbled over that full, wide mouth, held her against his chest, pressed up

against her ass while he explored the texture of her lips, then slipped inside to taste her.

Her breaths were short and sweet, and her arms looped around his neck. She

brought him closer, crushing his mouth over hers. Control nearly fled. He clawed at it

while desire scorched his stomach. He wouldn’t let her win this.

Tongues mated and fought, he couldn’t tell whose harsh breathing he was

hearing. Against his bodies, her warm heat drove him mad. He grabbed her arms,

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brought them behind her, forcing her to arch her breasts toward him. The pink hard tips

were begging for his mouth.

Keeping his eyes on hers he leaned in, placing a few teasing kisses over her neck,

her jaw, her throat. The hollows of her collarbone got a smooth lick before he moved on

lower. She fought him now, tested her strength against his, writhed under his hold.

Her breasts were heaving with each harsh, gasping breath. He circled them with

kisses, not trusting himself to touch them with his hands. Finally, slowly, he took one

hardened nipple in his mouth. Sucked just a little, laved it with his tongue.

Her low, long moan broke his control.

He pulled her to the floor, still had her pressed against him, her ass against his

cock, her head thrashing restlessly on his chest.

Her hands reached out blindly. “I want to touch you.”

“Not just yet.” If she managed to get her hands on him he would be lost. This

game was his -- his rules and his control.

He grabbed her wrists and held her down -- split again and knelt behind her,

helping himself to those magnificent legs. With a slim ankle in his hands, he lifted her,

and spread her thighs. Opened her to his senses.

Maya was trapped, held fast with strong, male hands. His chest behind her felt

warm and strong, supporting her, his arms clamped on her wrists. He held her ankles

in those same large hands, gently and firmly, spreading her as he knelt in front of her

and grinned. Another set of hands cupped her ass. He leaned in slowly, and she held

her breath.

A kiss over her thigh. A long slow sweep of tongue just so over her pussy lips.

Again. A third time.

“Tell me to lick you.”

She didn’t have the breath. The hands over her ass gripped harder. His tongue

probed lightly at the hood over her clitoris, rubbing so lightly, so tender, not nearly

enough.

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“Tell me to lick your pussy.”

She licked her lips instead, mentally begging him to just do it. Instead, a slow

and wicked finger teased her opening.

“Come on. Tell me.”

God! “Please…”

Two fingers now moved steady and slow inside her dripping channel. His

tongue danced lightly over the knot of tender nerve endings.

“Please what?” He circled her clit, faster and firmer, pumping his hand in perfect

rhythm. She felt the tremors take her as pleasure stabbed through her body. And he

slowed. “Please what?”

“Please… don’t stop.” She could barely breathe the words.

He took her clit inside his mouth, drew on it, laved it with his tongue. She

writhed now, loving the hands that held her motionless, loving this feeling of strength

surrounding her, taking her. Loving the fact that he wanted her, not from some spell,

just her, without makeup, without leather. Just her.

His tongue caressed her faster, his hand pumped inside her, pressing and

plunging. She clenched around his fingers, arched against his chest behind her. The

pleasure swirling through her darkened, tightened. The hands holding her clenched

over her limbs. She shook now, ready, close -- and gave herself over to the crest,

screaming freely as the orgasm took her, shuddering as pleasure turned from sharp to

blistering… to floating.

Her cunt still pulsing, Maya opened her eyes to see him kneeling in front of her.

His cock was in his hand -- he must have dropped his pants while she was floating

down from her climax -- the thick purple head of him already pearled with precome,

and she licked her lips wanting to taste it.

They froze as the house phone rang. Holland behind her cursed, and dropped a

quick kiss onto her lips. Holland between her legs got up to get the phone. The other

two disappeared after a few moments -- she felt cold without their heat surrounding

her.

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He reappeared in the doorway -- eyes flat, his jaw clenched tight. “We’ve got

another one. Let’s move.”

Self-conscious, chilled, she rolled onto her feet, mustering just enough dignity to

walk past him toward her own bedroom. She couldn’t understand how he just… turned

it off, how he became a cop in seconds. As if he’d flipped a fucking switch.

But then his hand was on her arm, he turned her, roughly pressing her against

him. Goose bumps popped out on her skin as his heat enveloped her once more. “This

isn’t over.”

She couldn’t quite tell if it had been a threat or promise. But as she shrugged on

jeans and her Hollywood sweatshirt, she thought perhaps this “get sex out of the way”

thing maybe wasn’t such a good idea.

Chapter Four

“Tell me there’s security cams.”

Holland could only see the red eyes glowing in the shadows. “There aren’t.”

“Why the hell not?”

It was Maya who answered, her voice a strange and tightly controlled pitch.

“Because they QA sex toys here. I don’t imagine testers would appreciate being

recorded.”

Manx didn’t agree or disagree. Nevertheless, Holland had a feeling she was

right. “Fine. Doesn’t look like anyone was here to greet him. Can you get me better

lights?”

Those red eyes flared a bit. “Yes.”

The floor was covered with computer-generated papers and stacks of reports

mixed with manila folders that once housed them. Various sex toys lay on top: dildos --

both wood and plastic, probably catering to various mythical creatures -- silicone

sleeves, vibrating pouches, and tubes of what Holland assumed was lube. When he

knelt down to shine his light on one, he saw it was indeed a lubricant, blood based to

enhance your vampire’s pleasure. Great.

Maybe his grandmother’s mutterings were true. Hell, he wasn’t exactly a regular

human himself, but somehow the idea of vampires seemed weirder than the thought of

mermaids. Maybe the thought of lush green hair caressing naked breasts was more

acceptable to him than bloodsucking monsters. Just call me a chauvinist pig.

“Hey, Holland.” Maya’s voice still had his stomach clenching.

You should’ve simply fucked her when you had the chance. Gotten it over with. It was

too late to blame himself for playing games. They’d burn each other out soon enough.

“Yeah.” He made his way over to her, careful not to disturb the giant crystal, twisted

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butt plug lying on its side. It sparkled in the beam of his flashlight, sending off happy

rainbows. Somehow he doubted it would stay sparkling for long.

“Look here.”

He aimed the light where Maya pointed -- an opened box containing boxes. As

he stepped closer he saw the letters on the shiny cardboard -- The CyberSex Kit.

“I think he took a few,” she said.

“I thought they only manufactured stuff for paranormals.” Holland grabbed one

of the packages, and read through the slogan. Enhance your mental connection with your

partner. Control their pleasure with the GavotStrips. Compatible with most USB and mental

connections.

The lights flooded the lab and as he jerked to cover his burning eyes, he dropped

the box. Both he and Maya knelt to pick it up, their breaths mingling. He forced himself

to back off, to push the lust away. He got a small satisfaction at seeing that need

mirrored in her eyes. Later, he promised both of them.

A piece of paper caught his eye. An envelope. He dug into his pocket to get out

small tweezers. Can’t take a cop out of New York. Turning the envelope, he squinted at the

address. Rookery Cove Aphrodisiacs. Human Resources Department.

“What’s this?” Her light scent drove him nuts, the desire in her eyes boiling his

blood. He needed to get this lust out of the way so he could think.

“Let’s go.” He took her by the arm, leading her toward the exit, past Manx.

“Leaving already?” The shadowed voice sounded amused.

“There’s data I need -- we need -- to look through. If you could send me the list

of recent job applicants?”

“Sure.”

Holland dragged Maya outside before the man could say another word. He’d get

this lust thing out of the way and finally be able to focus on the case.

Did he just… manhandle her out of there? Stunned, Maya simply followed him,

not saying a single word until he stormed inside the guesthouse. Instead of going

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toward the office where the laptop sat, he dragged her to his bedroom. “What in hell

are you doing?”

“That should be pretty obvious.”

She struggled now, excitement and outrage combined. “You can’t just drag me

out like some sex crazed… “

“But you want to be sex crazed.” He was behind her now, holding her back

against him, his breaths into her ear making her shiver. “You want to be taken.” His

teeth found her neck, nibbled just under her jaw, soothing with soft, wicked kisses.

She struggled for her control, desperate for it. Instead, she only felt desire.

Despite herself, she tilted her neck left allowing him access, wordlessly pleading for

more. His lips traced over the column of her neck, his palms found her breasts, lifted

them, learning their shape.

His teeth scraped softly against her jaw even as his thumbs rasped against her

nipples. She didn’t know when or how he managed to rid her of her clothes but she was

bare once again, her naked flesh both hot and chilled.

Maya traced her hand over his jeans, making a move to try and touch his bulging

sex. He moved just out of reach. “You’re afraid to let me touch you.” She pushed until

she turned in his arms and looked into those smoldering eyes. “Come on, cop man. I

promise I can make you feel good.”

His eyebrows lifted. “You make it sound like a challenge.”

Her hands got busy on his zipper. “Maybe it is.”

He stilled her palms, his large hands over hers. “Why don’t we make it

interesting.”

“Oh, am I boring you?”

He laughed, the sound masculine and sexy. “Let’s play a game. I call it, Who

Comes Last.”

She shrugged his hands away, lowered his zipper, and drew down his pants. His

cock sprang forward, heavy and thick. Gorgeous. “I’d say you’d lose.”

“You’re sure?”

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She dropped onto her knees in front of him, looked up to find him watching her.

Took in his scent; aroused, sexy male. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

His breathing quickened as she ran her tongue over the underside of that thick

cock. With jerky motions she drew down his pants, caressed his heavy balls. Lifting her

gaze, she watched him when she took the tip of him inside her mouth.

He shuddered with a gasp, and split in two, moving behind her as she took him

deeper.

She pulled away. “No fair. There’s only one of me.”

He knelt in front of her as he caressed her from behind. “Technically there’s one

of me.”

Fine then. She closed her hand around his cock, sucked him back inside her

mouth, laved him with her tongue. Maybe there’s two of him, but she would win this

game. Taking him deep, she sucked a bit, then closed her teeth around him, gently

grazing his skin. His groan of pleasure was wildly exciting.

Then something touched her sex, cool, hard and slippery against sensitive skin.

A dildo of some sort? It wasn’t his fingers. She couldn’t quite tell, couldn’t look back to

see. His hand was warm against her butt, his breathing harsh and loud.

She would’ve pulled away to see what the hell he was using. Instead his palm

over her head kept her mouth occupied.

The thing against her pussy teased her clit a bit before slipping inside her. She

clenched around it but it didn’t start pumping as she would have expected. She focused

on his cock again, sucked him into her mouth, and palmed both his balls -- and nearly

screamed when something pressed against her ass.

Cool, hard and thick. Pushing inside a place she’d never had invaded. She fought

against his hold now, and pulled away, a protest on her lips.

His voice was warm against her ear. “Just feel. It’s not going to hurt. I swear it.”

Crazily, the words reassured her. She didn’t fight the object -- well, just barely --

and then it was inside, full and deep and hot, igniting every nerve ending. The cock

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inside her mouth muffled her small cry. The objects moved inside her, rasping against

her tissues, the pleasure racing through her blood.

“Feel good?” That dark tone of satisfaction was both arousing and damning. She

wouldn’t let him win.

Pushing against the pleasure boiling through her, she concentrated on his cock

while he ravished her senses. She tongued him, licked him, fought him toward climax,

felt him shuddering, loved his hoarse grunts. The dildos pushed inside her, slow,

torturous, the pleasure edgy with a hint of pain, insanely, incredibly erotic. The tendrils

of it burned over her body, her climax sparking to flame. She pumped him faster,

feeling herself losing the battle for control. Sucked him harder even as he fucked her

rougher, harsher.

She clenched against orgasm, fought as it claimed her, sucked him deep into her

mouth even as she came, screaming around him, shaking, moaning -- and then his seed

spurted into her mouth, a hot, liquid cream.

He held her up when she was ready to slide to the floor with a soft satisfied sigh.

The things were out of her. She’d won… sort of. But then his cock -- the one behind her

-- pressed up against her pussy, full and thick. “Didn’t you just --”

He chuckled against her mouth as he lifted her upper body while he entered her

in one smooth movement from behind. “I did.” Behind her, he said, “But I didn’t.”

Under her, he said, “Neither did I.”

“Uh huh. No way.” The spell of nerves and lust and electricity sparking her skin

had nothing to do with magic. Three pairs of hands caressed her, her butt, her breasts,

her arms. She tried to get off the rock-hard body she was leaning over, couldn’t. Hands

lifted her, positioned her. Dropped her. She slid down onto his cock, feeling each inch

of him rasping against her slick passage. Bracing her arms over the slabs of muscle on

his chest, she turned around to see what he was doing behind her.

“I told you, no.” He didn’t stop spreading lube over his cock. “You liked the

dildo.”

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“I also like milkshakes, but they go straight to my ass.” She cringed when the

three of him chuckled.

“So’s this,” he said, and slid the tip of his cock against her sphincter.

She struggled even as her mind whirled with curiosity. The one in front leaned

over her, feathering kisses over her cheeks, her eyes, her lips. “Just try it,” he

whispered. “If you tell me to stop, I’ll stop.”

Caught in his gaze, she didn’t say no. His hands moved over her ass, squeezed

her cheeks as if encouraging, and spread them. Slowly, he pushed inside. Iced heat of

pleasure edged with pain. “Stop. Stop!” It occurred to her to freeze him, but the thought

fled as every nerve ending she had tingled to life.

She felt his balls brushing against her ass. He was inside. Both of him. Filling her

to bursting fullness as hands caressed and soothed her.

“Do you want me to stop?” His voice was hoarse over her ear. She didn’t open

her eyes, just shook her head. His kisses fluttered over her face; his hands palmed her

breasts, her ass, her shoulders.

She gasped as he started to move inside her with small rhythmic pumps,

caressing her flesh with his cock, burning her with ice and pleasure. Hands soothed

away the goose bumps that danced over her skin. He fucked her ass with the same

rhythm as he fucked her pussy, his strokes becoming long and powerful, his hips

slamming against her, his pelvis grinding against her swollen clit.

Deep and hard strokes while he dropped kisses over her face and neck, his hands

clamping her ass, his solid bodies warm and strong on either side of her. His hands

were in her hair, fingers spread, supporting her head against his kisses. More hands

supported her, keeping her still and open for a thorough fucking.

Helpless, she could only scream as pleasure laced with pain skimmed and

scraped its way over her body. Behind her, he snuck a hand over her belly, moved a bit

lower, touched the sensitive bud of her clit, blazing more fire through her. She writhed

against his cocks, over and under her, inside her, pushing into her in tandem,

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withdrawing only to plunge in again, as he circled the swollen knot of nerves with one

long, clever finger.

Shudders and chills took turns in raking her skin; his cocks were merciless inside

her. Keeping his hands tangled in her hair, he broke the kiss, threw his head back, and

closed his eyes. She watched him part his lips, breathe harder, then he shuddered as his

cocks shuddered inside her, spilling hot liquid bursts, pulsing and surging. Her own

orgasm tackled her, rattling her body over his -- his hands, all six of them, gripping her

limbs.

The last thing that she thought was, Wow.

Chapter Five

Sleeping in the same bed was a mistake.

Holland thought this as they made their way to Manx’s office. He had no

problem fucking her. That sleepy satisfied smile when she finally managed to lift her

head nearly had him beating his chest and roaring.

Wasn’t this an exercise in keeping cool? You fucked her brains out so you could both just

focus on the job. Get over it. Except it wasn’t easy focusing while that leather-clad butt

sashayed in front of him. Her halter-top of searing red was like a scarlet beacon against

the pure blue sky.

She hadn’t spoken to him since morning. Shit, Holland didn’t blame her. Because

when she woke up, all satisfied grin and tousled hair, he’d pushed away the urge to

jump her and handed her a cup of coffee and a printout of stats instead. No morning-

after awkwardness -- nothing that would usually follow a night of mind-blowing sex.

He acted cool, crisp and professional. If she couldn’t handle it, it would be her

problem. He wasn’t the roses type of guy, and as he’d said, this was to just burn the lust

out of them both. He didn’t know why this strange lust didn’t dissipate. Maybe they

needed a few more turns? Judging by her face, she’d turn him into a toad if he even

approached the subject again.

Maybe he did fuck up. Holland decided not to focus on it right now.

Instead, he wondered who was responsible for the little goody bag that appeared

in his bedroom -- the one he got the double dildo from. Certainly all that stuff wasn’t

there before. She probably had the same goody bag in her room -- maybe it was a

standard welcome package to Rookery Cove Aphrodisiacs. Some package.

They reached the building that housed Manx’s office in complete and utter

silence. This little “burn out lust” experiment hadn’t quite gone as Holland planned. He

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wanted to get rid of tension -- instead, it had gotton so thick, he wondered if Manx

would see it. And not just lust -- disdain, coolly slathered over hurt feelings.

He was a fucking jerk, Holland decided.

“You slept well?” Manx was already in his office, the shadows that surrounded

him dark and swirling in the sunlit room.

“Yes, thank you.” Maya didn’t look at either of them as she answered. Instead

she settled herself into a chair, and long legs crossed smoothly.

Holland followed suit, dropping into a leather chair next to her. “I looked over

the data. There are three guys who were rejected in the past three months who fit the

stats. I’m proposing --”

“Too much time.” Maya’s voice was smoothly, coolly, confident. “I say we end it

now. Today.”

He raised an eyebrow at her profile. She didn’t move to look at him. “You gonna

twitch your nose?”

Not even a hint of a smile. “The data shows our guy must establish a connection

to an object to know where to appear at. Assuming that HR envelope is his, he will

attempt to appear at the same location.”

Holland wasn’t sure he liked where this was going. “I can’t fight him and you

can’t freeze him. Knowing where he’ll appear won’t do much good.”

Now she did turn. The cold in her dark eyes lanced through his chest. “Agreed.

And that’s my point. He needs a bit of a distraction so I can freeze him.”

“You propose this how?”

Maya smiled then, a cool and ugly smile, and ran a fingertip over her skin from

the hollow of her throat to all that cleavage. “Let’s say it’s my specialty.”

Holland really wasn’t beginning to like this. “The envelope --”

Again she cut him off. “Is right here.” She dug into her halter, pulling a bit of

paper out to show him. Tucked it back in. He felt like the worst of lechers following the

movement of those fingers.

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A knowing smile greeted him when he jerked his gaze back to her face. She

turned to Manx. “He’ll come for it.”

The shadows shifted. “How can you be sure?”

Her soft laugh had just a hint of bitterness. “I put a want spell on it.”

* * *

Holland felt chills racing along his back as they walked out. The perp aside, this

“want thing” was too personal. He was afraid to let himself touch her. Instead he

stepped directly in her path. “What is a want spell?”

Maya’s eyes were cool on his. “Exactly as it sounds. I make you want.”

“And did you?” He held his breath while she smiled.

“So you can blame it?” She almost emanated ice. “It doesn’t work quite like I

wish. A quirk, you’d say.”

She turned, and this time he grabbed her arm. She wrenched it out of his grasp

and he swore he could see a sheen of tears. Under it, her eyes glittered with something

akin to hurt and rage. “Explain.”

“Fine.” A raised hand challenged him to touch her again. “I’ve made the mistake

twice of making men want me. Both times they left me in the morning. Nice hole, see

you around.”

“I didn’t --” He broke off, and treated her with cool disdain.

“No, you didn’t.” A small and bitter smile touched her lips. “You wanted it

professional. Let’s keep it professional.”

He reached for her again, ignoring the hand she fisted over his shoulder as he

drew her against him. “A spell or not, I want you.” Her body tensed against his, and

she fought against his hold. He kept his lips over her ear as sunshine bathed them in

gold morning light. “Last night wasn’t enough. Fuck your professionalism, I need you

again.”

Her lips parted -- probably to tell him to go to hell. Instead, he leaned in to taste

her -- and he was flung backward as laughter and her scream mocked him, while pain

pierced his shoulder, radiating ice down his arm and chest.

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The man -- a boy really -- was standing over Holland, his pale lips twisted into

what some would call a sneering smile. Arm screaming with pain, Holland tried to

push himself up from the ground and saw his own blood staining the grass red.

“Hello, Matthew.” Maya’s voice was cool as silk. The boy phased out, then

reappeared next to Maya. Aside from jerking her hands, she didn’t move.

“You’re the slut from the lagoon.”

“I’m the HR director. Weren’t you looking for me?” Holland could barely hear

nerves inside that cool smooth tone.

“Yeah, I got a little treat for you.” The boy was in his early twenties, a backward

cap on his disheveled hair. Holland commanded his aching body to move as every

instinct screamed at him to put himself between Maya and the perp.

Freeze him already.

The boy disappeared again, then reappeared with a crumpled piece of paper in

his hand. “You wanna tell me why?” His left palm clenched a lethally sharpened

wooden dildo dripping with blood. “Am I not good enough to work at your sex shop?

You prefer a dildo instead of the real thing?” He drifted in and out, phasing in closer

then farther away.

The dildo that had become a stake was pointed at her face. Finally controlling the

pain, Holland split in three, leaving himself in the same spot where the boy could see

him, while attempting to come at him from both sides.

Maya stood still, her hands clenching together as she tried the spell. He could see

terror in her eyes although her voice was smooth. “Your qualifications weren’t what

we’re looking for. Maybe if you went back to school --”

The paper was flung into her face, the boy appearing behind her, pushing her to

the ground. He disappeared again, only to appear with a bottle of something -- Vampire

Lube from last night. “You want qualifications? I’ll show you. I’ll show you all!” He

squirted lube over the stake, then finally froze.

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Holland tackled him; dropped him to the ground. The third part of him leaned

over Maya, suppressing the urge to smooth his hands over her body to assure himself

she was all right. The pain that radiated through him was cold and jagged.

Shadows gathered around the frozen boy as Maya pulled herself upright. “What

will you do with him?”

The voice was Manx’s as the shadows answered. “You already know.”

Holland pulled the three of him back into one, feeling the damned pain intensify

again. He closed his eyes against it, fought it, won. He could have sworn he heard the

sounds of chewing as he slid into darkness.

Chapter Six

Maya heard Holland shifting in his bed and wished she knew a spell to ease his

pain. The bleeding had stopped, and his back was bandaged. The stake hadn’t managed

to reach his lungs, thank God. Still, Maya imagined it would hurt like a mother for a

long while.

She wouldn’t be around for it but the least she could do was make him

comfortable. In the dim lights, she saw his eyes drift open. “You want some water?” She

kept her voice a mere whisper.

“Yeah.”

She brought the cup to him, watching him wince as he attempted to sit up.

“Don’t move too much. The guy that treated you -- I think he was werewolf by the way

-- said you should try to keep still.”

Holland snorted weakly, finally managing to sit up. “Werewolves know shit

about septiels.”

Hell, no one knew shit about them. Maya frowned at him. “So?”

“I’ll be fine in a few days.

“If you say so.” She handed him a cup, and watched him drink thirstily.

“Anyway, we’re done here. Manx did…” she paused, recalling the strange chewing

sounds. “Whatever it is Manx does. Matthew won’t be bothering the island again.”

“You’re sad.”

“He wasn’t… well.” She waved a hand before he could say anything. “I know his

actions hurt people. But… he shouldn’t have been unsupervised. Hell, he was on meds.

Someone should’ve known he stopped taking them. Fuck, I don’t know.” She felt empty

somehow. In a few hours she would leave and never see Holland again.

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“And you?” He kept looking at her with those hooded eyes, the cup still in his

hand. Needing something to do, she took it from him, and set it on the nightstand next

to the bed.

“And me? I’m going back home. Nothing left to do here.”

“I see.” He lay back down, winced again and closed his eyes.

“Look, is there anything I can get you?” Why did she feel a bit of guilt for

leaving?

“Actually, I have a proposal for you.” His eyes were still closed.

She managed to keep her pulse under control. “Oh?”

“What do you think about partnering?” He said it with such nonchalance as if he

spoke about the weather. “We work well together. That freezing thing of yours can be

quite handy.”

“But --” Her pulse sped up in spite of herself. She sat down on the bed next to

him, felt his warmth. Was too nervous to touch him. “But… you don’t like how I work.

You said it yourself. I’m not professional.”

He snorted, wincing again as if it brought him pain. He didn’t touch her. “We

weren’t exactly professional earlier. Managed to get our guy regardless.”

“Oh.” Okay, he just wanted to work together. No hanky panky.

“Can you do me a favor?” His voice sounded sleepy.

“What?”

“Come here and kiss me. And then sleep, will you? We didn’t get much last

night and you’ll need your energy for a repeat performance.”

Exhilaration shot through her as his hand tugged on hers to bring her closer. She

leaned over him, saw his mouth curve. “Wouldn’t you be the one who needs his

energy? Maybe I’ll want all seven of you.”

“You’ll kill me, witch.” He sighed. “But what a way to go.” He tugged at her

until she fit her mouth against his.

Fiona Jayde

Fiona Jayde is an author, a pilot, a ninth degree black belt in three styles of

martial arts, a computer hacker, a mountain climber, a jazz singer, a weightlifter, a

superspy with a talent for languages, and an evil genius. All in her own head, of course.

In real life, she really is an author, insists she is a good driver even though

various loved ones refuse to let her drive, possesses a brown belt in Tae Kwon Do and

blue belt in Aikido, a web developer, scared to death of heights, loves jazz piano, can

bench-press about twenty pounds -- with effort, speaks English and Russian fluently,

and when not plotting murder and mayhem enjoys steamy romance novels, sexy spy

thrillers, murky mysteries and violent movies where things frequently blow up.

Contact Fiona Jayde through her website at www.fionajayde.com.