Dead Drop (The Guild #2)

“Moana, that’s—”

“Just fucking do it, Kai,” she barked. “I’ve had it right up to here”—she indicated to a level somewhere an inch above her head—“with this Romeo and Juliet bullshit you two have going on. Now I’m telling you both to put your fucking weapons down and talk it out like adults. Or else.”

I couldn’t help myself. “Or else what, Mo? You gonna shoot me if I don’t?”

She fired a shot at the step directly below where I stood, making me inhale sharply.

“I don’t fucking know, Danny,” she admitted, sounding totally honest. “Maybe? Do you want to call my bluff and find out?”

Movement behind me made my shoulders ripple with tension, then Kai flicked the safety on his gun—it was a distinctive sound—and tossed it down the short stairs to skitter across the pavement in front of Moana.

“I wouldn’t push her when she’s in one of these moods,” he told me, standing way too close for comfort again. “I’ll be inside.”

Mo raised her brows at me. “Well?”

I scowled back at her. “Well, what?”

She sighed. “Jesus, Danny. I’m asking you to just have a conversation. You two have some bad blood on the table, and until it’s wiped clean, Kai can’t focus on our work. Besides, if anyone can help you with whatever mess you’re caught up in with the Guild, it’s him.” Her brow furrowed, but I could see the stubborn set of her jaw. She was just like her brother in that regard. “I appreciate you have no reason to trust me or him. But that’s why I have this.” She nodded to her assault rifle.

I clicked my tongue, thinking. Maybe she was bluffing. But these were the same siblings who had me imprisoned on an island and tortured daily. Nothing was really out of the question when it came to Moana and Malachi Arden. Besides, for all I knew, the rest of the hateful fucking team could be lurking on the outskirts of town.

“Fine,” I said from behind clenched teeth. I flicked the safety back on my hand gun and placed it carefully down on the step where Mo had just shot a chunk out of the concrete. Throwing loaded guns was a terrible idea. “Happy?”

She gave me a dry look. “You think I’m stupid, Danny? What else have you got?”

Damn it. With a sigh, I disarmed the other two small guns I had concealed, then at Moana’s hard glare, I added a range of knives to the pile, and a miniature grenade. One never knew when a little explosion might come in handy.

“Damn, girl,” Mo murmured. “Is that everything?”

I arched a brow at her. “You think I can’t kill him with my bare hands?”

She grinned. “I’m hedging my bets. Now will you please just go talk to the big fucking baby? Maybe if he realizes Danielle is nothing like you, then he’ll quit acting like you broke his heart.”

Say what now?

“I’ll keep your weapons safe and sound in my car. Okay? I promise, I’ll give them all back when you leave.” She tilted her head to the side, her thick dark hair shifting with the movement. “Just rip the Band-Aid off, girl. If he really meant nothing to you, what do you have to be afraid of?”

Ouch. Fair point, though. What was I so scared of? He wouldn’t catch me off guard again. I’d been playing a role last time. This time there was nothing to stop me fighting back.

Also, I’d rather eat a porcupine than admit I was scared of being in the same room as Kai because I still had crazy strong feelings for him.

So I gave Mo a brittle smile, then flipped her my middle finger. “I hate you.”

She just laughed. “I like this version of you better. Danielle cried too much.”

Well shit, that was something we could both agree on. Not that I would tell her as much, though. So I just steeled my spine and stalked back into the eerie old church to confront my biggest demon.

He was nowhere to be seen, though.

“For fuck’s sake, Malachi, I’m not playing dumb games with you,” I snapped, peering around the dark room. I should have chosen a location with actual electricity connected, if only to lower the drama of it all.

Shuffling sounds came from behind the altar, and his shadowy form reappeared a second later. “Stop calling me that, kaipatu. I know you’re trying to pretend like we’re strangers, but we’re not.”

He struck a match, the sudden light imprinting on my vision for a few moments as he lit the array of candles he’d fished out from somewhere. Once the thin tapers on top of the altar were all lit, he used one to light the huge, half-melted pillar candles on stands around the dais, bathing us in soft light that only heightened the drama.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” I told him, tracking his every movement with suspicion. It was bullshit, though. I watched him because I couldn’t look away. “We were both faking it, so we most definitely are strangers. You have no idea who I am.”

He placed the candle back down in its holder, then advanced toward me. It took every shred of my strength not to take a step back, but Danny DeLuna didn’t retreat from anyone. Certainly not an unarmed man with no active desire to kill me. I didn’t think.

So I tilted my chin up and met his gaze as he stopped right inside my personal space, close enough that I was at a significant height disadvantage.

“I have no idea who you are?” he asked softly, tracing a fingertip along the side of my jaw. I wanted to flinch away or lean into his touch, but I did neither. I stood strong and unaffected. “And yet, I know the silken feel of your skin. I know how your body responds to my touches. I know how you taste as you come on my face.” His fingertip skated across my lips, the lightest of touches that set my whole body on fire. “I know what sounds you make when my cock is buried deep inside your sweet cunt and how you moan when I fill you up with my cum. Maybe the rest was bullshit, Danielle, but that? No, you didn’t fake any of that. I might not know you, but I sure as fuck know your body.”

Christ. This. This is what I was so goddamn afraid of. I should have called Moana’s bluff.

I needed to swallow quickly before I could muster any strength or conviction in my voice to respond. “So, what I’m hearing, Malachi, is that you need to get laid. There are professionals who will handle that, you know? You shouldn’t need to risk your life just to get a good fuck.” I tipped my head to the side, dislodging his teasing finger in the process.

His full lips tilted in a smile. “You’re in trouble.” It was a statement not a question.

No shit, Kai. I’m in huge fucking trouble being here with you.

“Why’d you call Mo if not to reach me?” he pushed, not moving away to offer me even an inch of breathing room.

Arrogant ass. “This is possibly news to you, Ares, but the whole world doesn’t revolve around you. I called Mo because I wanted to speak to Mo. Is that such a hard concept to grasp?”

He stared down at me for a long moment, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. Then he gave a laugh and grasped my jaw in his strong fingers, tilting my head back further. Like he wanted to try and kiss me again.

I stood my ground, but it was tempting to knee him in the nuts just to deflate his ego a bit.

“You wanna know what’s a hard concept to grasp, ātaahua? That you can’t feel this electric connection between us. That you didn’t fall in love, even a little bit, for real. That’s what I’m having a hard fucking time wrapping my head around, because I sure as fuck did.” His dark eyes blazed with honesty and desire, with passion. But he was only lying to himself.

“Get it through your thick skull, beau fou,” I replied, hardening myself to the raw emotions he seemed so determined to drag out of me. “You fell for an act. I honey trapped you, exactly as my job required me to do. Nothing more, nothing less. The sooner you stop reading into it so hard, the sooner you can move on with your life.”

Anger and frustration flared across his face, and his grip on my jaw tightened. He was barely half an inch above my bruises, which my black collar was hiding.

“Nah, I call bullshit,” he murmured, “because you did do less, didn’t you? You were supposed to kill me, too, and you couldn’t go through with it.”

Motherfucker.

Rather than try to deny it—when we both knew he was right—I stepped away, jerking my face out of his grip. He wasn’t anywhere near ready to let me go, though, and he quickly followed.

“Don’t turn—” he started to growl, grabbing the back of my neck in an almost panicked need to stop me walking away. But his fingertips landed right on the swollen, scabbed line where the garrote wire had cut my skin, and I hissed a sharp breath, wincing.

Sloppy on my part, I was usually better at hiding my pain. But he’d taken me totally unaware, and I hadn’t spared a second to smother my reaction.