Banshee Charmer (Files from the Otherworlder Enforcement Agency, #1) Read online

  “About this morning—”

  “I said don’t worry about it.” I couldn’t keep the pissy tone from my voice.

  “Let me finish,” he said, clenching his fists to his sides. “It’s been…a really long time since I’ve done anything close to a relationship. I usually keep things…simple.”

  “What does that even mean? Simple as in no sex life or simple as in sex with random strangers you never have to see again?”

  The expression on his face told me all I needed to know. I turned away from him, crossing my arms. I was such a freaking idiot. He touched my shoulder and I stood up and stepped away. I didn’t want him touching me. It screwed up my ability to think rationally.

  “It’s not simple with you, Kiera,” he whispered.

  “Well, sorry I screwed up your normal plan. Don’t worry. I get it. I wouldn’t want to complicate your life.” I heard my voice catch. Mortified, I felt tears burn behind my eyes and a lump build in my throat. What the hell was wrong with me?

  He moved behind me. Then he wrapped his arms tightly around me, pressing my back to his chest. His face was next to my ear. He took a deep breath, smelling my hair. It took every ounce of will I possessed not to relax and lean into him.

  “I’m not a free man at the moment, Kiera, not until I catch this bastard. It keeps me from making promises—promises I want to keep.” His voice was low, just above a whisper.

  Then, his warmth moved from my back. The sound of cabinets opening and shutting came from the kitchen. I hugged myself, not sure how to feel.

  He peeked around the doorway, coffee tin in hand. “I think we should hit up that bar, Sylvester’s, tonight. If he’s still in town, he might be hunting there.”

  “That doesn’t make sense. Why wouldn’t he move on to a new place? He’s been seen there.”

  “This killer likes to hunt in familiar territory. If he’s still in town, I think he’ll be there. If not tonight, soon.” He disappeared back into the kitchen.

  “I don’t remember you mentioning that tidbit when we covered what little info you have on this guy.”

  Aidan reappeared from the kitchen and shrugged. “Thought I did.”

  “And I thought you were headed out of town.”

  “Think I’ll stick around for a day or two. I’m not convinced this guy has moved on.”

  “You’re not staying here,” I snapped.

  “I didn’t plan on it.” Irritation laced his tone. “But we can at least check out the bar together.”

  I sighed and pushed myself up from the couch. Who needed sleep?

  Chapter Nine

  Sylvester’s at night confirmed my opinion that the dive was a bar masquerading as a club. While the dance floor overflowed with half-dressed college-aged kids, the majority of their customers was older, and nursed their drinks at the bar. A few people stuck to the pool tables, and guarded them from interlopers seeking to interrupt their stream of games. The music was loud, but not so loud the folks at the tables couldn’t have conversations. The place had a skeezy vibe, one that would have remained even without the 1970s decor.

  Aidan followed me to one of the tables, taking the chair next to mine, and set his facing the entrance. I sat so I could keep an eye on the door, which was no doubt the same reason he chose the far side of the table as well. Not because he actually wanted to sit next to me. I pushed down a wave of irritation.

  The car ride over had been uncomfortable, but at least the music covered up our lack of conversation. I spotted Kimmy and waved. She frowned, grabbed a couple of drinks off the bar, and disappeared, heading toward the tables on the other side of the dance floor.

  A waitress stopped by our table and took our order. Her gaze lingered on Aidan, annoying me enough to give her a dirty look. When I glanced back at Aidan, he grinned at me.

  “So the blonde is the owner’s daughter?” he asked.

  “She’s the one who saw Amanda and Claire Simons here with the incubus.”

  He did a quick check over his shoulder. “Doesn’t seem like she wants to talk to you.”

  As our waitress approached with our beers, I touched her arm and motioned for her to come closer. When she leaned in, I said, “Tell Kimmy if she doesn’t get her ass over here, I’m coming to get her.”

  The girl’s eyes widened and she nodded. She pulled away from me and trucked back to where Kimmy stood, apparently forgetting to deliver the other drinks on her platter. As soon as she got to the bar, she grabbed Kimmy and said something in her ear, pointing at me. Kimmy looked over and I waved, giving her what Amanda used to call my scary grin.

  Kimmy frowned and stomped over to our table. When she saw Aidan, she took a quick step back, her eyes wide. Then, shaking her head, she turned her attention to me, shooting the occasional glance at Aidan.

  “What?” she said, not even attempting civility.

  “Wow, aren’t we in a mood today,” I said, looking from her to Aidan. She’d recovered nicely, but his body was still tense, and he stared at her as if expecting her to pull a gun. “You guys know each other?” I asked

  “Of course not,” Kimmy blurted out just as Aidan muttered, “Never seen her before in my life.”

  I frowned at Aidan after he finally dragged his gaze from Kimmy to meet my hard stare. I raised an eyebrow at him. He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, as if daring me to call him a liar.

  “I’m working. You’re bothering me. What do you want?”

  I frowned. Her attitude hadn’t been fantastic before, but she hadn’t seemed hostile. “I’m here about a man.” I kept my blank cop face on.

  “Looks like you got one.”

  I just stared, cop face holding steady. “Have you seen him?”

  “No,” she said, flatly. “I told you I’d call you if he came in.” Her eyes darted to Aidan, and then she turned on her heel and walked back to the bar.

  “She was lying,” Aidan said.

  “Thank you, Captain Obvious.” But were you lying? “What was that about?”

  “What was what about?”

  “The way you were looking at her?”

  “Suspiciously?” he asked.

  I frowned at him, not entirely sure I believed him. I turned my attention to my beer. Then I scanned the crowd, looking for a man with long, dark hair.

  As I sat with Aidan, I got antsier. Any second I might burst out and ask him exactly what he meant by “promises” and why he couldn’t make them—whatever they might be—just because he was on the job. I needed to focus. Out there somewhere, maybe in this bar, was the man who killed my partner.

  Amanda’s face flashed in my mind, her long hair, the muscles she was so proud of. I missed her twisted sense of humor, and her unspoken but clear support of me and the choices I made in my life. God, I was an idiot. My partner, the closest person I’d had to a friend in years, was dead. And here I was, wondering if the guy I’d used to drown my sorrow had feelings for me. I was such a piece of work.

  I got up from the table and muttered, “Keep an eye on Kimmy,” to Aidan. I walked toward the crowd at the other end of the bar. The dance floor and tables on the far side of it were bathed in shadows, making it difficult to make out a lot of detail on the patrons. No one resembled the man Kimmy described. Then again, given her actions, she might have lied about that, too. I walked back across the bar, pausing to elbow one guy who got a little too close. When I reached Aidan, my mood had gone beyond the irritable funk I’d arrived in. I was well into pissed territory.

  “Let’s go,” I said.

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah, he’s not here.”

  “He might be. Later.”

  Kimmy stood at the bar, and she watched us as she poured a beer from the tap.

  “I don’t think so.”

  …<
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  As we drove, my emotions were jumbled. The irritation remained, but my awareness of Aidan grew. I watched him in my peripheral vision. The fine muscles of his arm working as he steered, the way his jaw tensed like he was thinking about something that made him angry. His strong hands and their firm grip on the wheel. My instincts told me to trust him, even as my mind said I was an idiot for considering it.

  We drove in silence, and when we got to my house I unlocked the door and left it open behind me. I struggled to find the right words. The door clicked shut, locking. I turned, meeting his dark blue eyes. Desire rushed through me. His gaze drowned me. Suppressing a gasp, I stepped away from him and looked down, fisting my hands tightly at my sides to keep myself from reaching out and touching him.

  Realization hit me.

  “You lied to me,” I said. It wasn’t a question. I’d been trying to figure out what kind of otherworlder he was and the whole time it had been right in front of my face.

  “Oh?” He didn’t sound surprised.

  “You’re an incubus.” I knew it was true, but hoped somehow that I was wrong. That he’d deny it. But the pieces fit. I was like a teenager every time we were in the same room together, instantly hot and horny. That wasn’t normal, no matter how attractive he was, no matter how long it had been since I’d had sex.

  “I never lied about that.”

  My heart sank and I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Yes. You did.” Here I’d been trying to work out what he was when he’d practically admitted it to me when I asked. A sex god, he’d said. I was so stupid.

  “Why? Because I didn’t tell you I’m not human? You didn’t actually tell me you weren’t human either, sweetheart. If I hadn’t figured it out on my own, you wouldn’t have told me.” His voice was harsh and low, but there was no anger in it. Shivers ran down my spine at the sound; something about the timbre elicited even more of a reaction than his normal voice. Suddenly I realized that more than a tingling sensation went up and down my back, a soft touch moved there as well. I stifled a gasp at his caress. It wasn’t right, but my reaction felt out of control. The realization that I was swiftly losing it finally hit me, and I stepped away from him, out of his reach unless he chose to follow me.

  He didn’t.

  “Maybe I didn’t tell you that I’m a banshee, but you knew anyway.” Stay with the subject. Don’t talk about the touching. Don’t mention how he makes you feel.

  “Not at first,” he admitted. “But I figured it out pretty quickly.”

  “How did you know, anyway?” I turned to face him, realizing my mistake when his eyes caught me again. A chunk of his dark hair had escaped from its proper place and sat over his eyebrow. I reached out toward him to push the hair back, but caught myself before I touched him and made a firm fist at my side.

  What the hell was wrong with me?

  “I’ve…been around a while. There’s a resonance in your voice. Nothing obvious, a human would never notice, but I’ve met banshees before. I know what to…listen for.” He moved closer to me, taking my hand in his. He rubbed his thumb across my palm softly. I let him.

  “Why would the OWEA send you to hunt your own kind? Isn’t that a conflict of interest?” I couldn’t concentrate; the light touch of his thumb distracted me, more so than such a simple touch should be. I willed myself to pull away, but try as I might, I couldn’t.

  “About that…” He grimaced and looked down.

  I stepped back again, away from Aidan. “What? I knew there were things you still weren’t telling me.” He wasn’t the killer; I knew that. He didn’t fit Kimmy’s description, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a heartbreaker and a liar.

  “It’s just…incubi can be difficult to track and take down. I’m uniquely qualified for the job.” He reached out for me again. “Just because we share the same race doesn’t mean we’re at all alike, Kiera. I’d no more support a rogue incubus than you’d support a rogue banshee.”

  “No, you just run around the country after a bad guy—leaving God knows how many thralled women in your wake. Do you get a kick out of making them fall for you with your power and then leaving them behind?”

  He flinched as if I’d hit him. “First of all, my power doesn’t work that way. I can elicit lust, passion, desire. A certain amount of that is part of my natural state, and I could no more block it than a lycanthrope could block the bit of wildness that lingers around them, or the fear that vampires naturally cause. If I were juiced up, I could thrall women—if I wanted to. But I can’t make anyone fall in love with me. Truly loving someone, caring about them, that can’t be manufactured by my powers or anyone else’s.” He leaned toward me and I met his gaze. “And if you really think I’m the kind of man who would use my powers like that—”

  “I’m sorry.” I swallowed hard. “That wasn’t a fair assumption. I just—” I stopped. Telling him I was scared shitless of how he made me feel was a bad idea, for so many reasons.

  I let him pull my hands into his, and as he stepped closer to me my mind and instincts continued to battle. I wasn’t at all certain I could trust him, but what he said made sense. I knew I’d hunt down any otherworlder—banshee or incubus or whatever freak it might be—if I had to. I would hunt and execute them if the situation called for it. That was my job. His job, too. And he never claimed to be human, or denied his incubus heritage—he just didn’t offer up the information. A private person too, I understood, even if I didn’t like it.

  Aidan leaned down, putting his face in my hair, his mouth next to my ear. He took a deep breath, and then sighed.

  My breath quickened, and I held myself carefully still. “But you’ve been affecting me, haven’t you? With your thrall?”

  He didn’t step away, but he pulled his head back so he could meet my eyes. “There is an aura that we carry as a species, just like succubi. Just like vamps and the aura of fear they carry. It isn’t something I consciously control. It’s just part of who I am. I can’t help that. You understand that, don’t you?”

  I could. And I did. How many times had I wished I’d been born a normal human? Banshees were outcasts because of their nature. And though my underpowered status allowed me to live a fairly normal life, I’d never be anything but what I was. A freak trying to do the best she could with the life she’d been given.

  Could I blame him for doing the same?

  Something of my assent must have shown in my expression, because he moved his face back to my ear. “God, you smell good,” he whispered. Touching his lips to my neck, just above my collarbone, he left small kisses in his wake as he moved his mouth up to mine.

  He smelled pretty damn good, too.

  Tender kisses made me squirm in his arms, and he moved his mouth from mine and chuckled softly in my ear. Stepping back, he took my hand in his and tugged me toward my bedroom. I followed him, shooting a longing glance toward the living room floor over my shoulder.

  Aidan stopped, a smile on his lips. “Don’t worry, it’ll be even better starting off on an actual bed.”

  I barely suppressed a nervous laugh. Better? How could it be better? I wasn’t entirely certain I would survive better. But I let him pull me along when he started back down the hall.

  I’d made my bed—not something I could usually claim on a weekday, so I was glad I’d taken the time. Though I was pretty sure Aidan wouldn’t have minded messy sheets.

  He brushed his lips over mine when he pulled me back into his arms. Soft on my back, his fingers ran lightly over my still-covered skin. I stepped back when he broke the kiss and slowly unbuttoned my blouse, conscious of his eyes on me, and of the light still on overhead. I reached the last button and then let the shirt drop to the floor, watching him expectantly.

  He smiled at me, and the look was somehow warmer than his normal grin. He pulled his shirt over his head. Then pulled down his jeans, leaving only
boxer briefs to cover what I didn’t need my imagination to envision. His body was hard, chiseled, but not so developed he looked like the only place he spent time was the gym.

  Drinking him in with my eyes, I wondered what he thought of when he looked at me. Did he see a banshee, or a woman? A niggling doubt touched my thoughts. Was I just another lay he’d barely remember a year from now?

  I pushed the thought away. For better or worse, I’d decided to sleep with him. Only time would show what he decided to do with that trust. I unbuttoned my pants, tugged them down over my hips, and let them fall to the floor before stepping out of them. Only a second passed before he stopped taking me in with his eyes. Then he took me into his arms.

  He kissed me for a few moments before lifting me up against his hard chest and placing me carefully on the bed. Covering my body with his, he trailed his way down my neck, kissing and nibbling. His face was rough against my skin and I could feel he hadn’t shaved in a day, at least. He slid a hand up and lightly touched my inner thighs, almost tickling, and then he palmed me. I gripped his broad shoulders, digging my fingers into his skin.

  His touch was firm, but not rough, and I strained against him, trying to make him press harder. I couldn’t help myself from seeking the release I knew he could grant me. But he pulled back as I pushed forward, and then moved closer again when I relaxed, torturing me.

  “Kiera,” he whispered, and as he pressed his hand more firmly against me, I gasped.

  The rest of our clothing disappeared under his expert hands. He lowered his head to trail kisses down my side, before nipping at my hip bone.

  Screw this. No way was he always going to be in control.

  I pushed at his shoulders and he looked up at me, brows furrowed in confusion. But when I nudged him down onto his back and bent my head to kiss and nibble my way down his chest, tasting his slightly damp skin, his breath caught and his eyes widened. He dropped his head back when I lowered my face and licked his hip bone, biting and kissing my way to his erection. And when I took him into my mouth, he groaned.