She blinked at him. “I must have been trashed. I can’t imagine forgetting that face.”
He gave me a quick glance, still smiling. “Fair warning—I’m a Deathstalker. I know we’re mortal enemies, but I can’t help but appreciate beautiful girls when I see them.”
She narrowed her eyes, but I could see the half-smitten smile creeping across her lips.
I suddenly felt a little sick.
“Is that right?” She shook his hand. “I suppose lines can be blurred for one day. This is my friend Jemmie.”
Darek gave my hand a brief shake and turned so he faced us both. He’d showered and changed recently, his blond hair still damp and raked back from his forehead. He was now wearing ripped black jeans and a white T-shirt, a pair of sunglasses hanging from the collar.
“Were you looking for something in particular?” Alex asked. Her eyes flicked to me, speaking our unspoken language. This one is cute, the look said. See, you should have worn short shorts!
If only she knew.
Outside, the roar of motorcycles sounded in the distance. Alex let out a breath, disrupting a lock of hair that hung along her face. “That’s my cue. Jem, I’ll catch up with you in a bit. Nice meeting you, Darek. I hope my brother doesn’t kill you.” Alex side-eyed me, and waggled her eyebrows, before slipping outside.
When I was sure she was out of earshot, I whisper-shouted at Darek. “What are you doing?”
Darek frowned. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”
“She can’t find out we know each other. You heard what she said—Crowe is looking for the slightest excuse to crush bones. Especially Deathstalker bones. Remember—he thinks Deathstalkers killed his dad.”
“I asked some of the guys about that earlier. Michael Medici died in a motorcycle accident out on Bayou Road.”
I nodded. “But Crowe said it looked like his venemon magic had been turned on him. Is that something Killian could have done?”
Darek laughed. “You met him last year, right?”
“Yeah, but just a handshake at a mixer. It’s not like we’re pals. He doesn’t really—”
“Look like the leader of a gang?”
“I guess not.” He looked more like an accountant, actually. “But come on. I’ve heard talk.”
“It’s true, Killian is a badass. And I guess he could manipulate someone into using their own magic against themselves if he wanted to, but trust me, the guy is determined to keep our club straight. I would bet my life he didn’t harm a hair on Michael Medici’s head. Unless he was bald. Was he bald? I never met him.”
“Stop.” I grew serious. “A lot of people around here are still grieving his death.”
The smile melted off Darek’s face. “I’m a jerk. I’m sorry.” He reached out and touched my arm, and I sighed at the warmth of his fingers, wanting to relax into him again. “Forgive me?”
I laughed. “Okay. Just this once. But be careful about what you say around here. Promise?”
“Will do. Now…” He wrapped an arm around my neck and pulled me into his side. The cigarette-and-mint smell of him was heavier than it had been before. “Alex likes me. I’m a likable guy. What say we stop Romeo and Julietting around and take this public? It would be the talk of the festival.”
“Absolutely not.” I couldn’t quite meet his eyes. He’d kept his voice light, but there had been a note of hope there, and I still wasn’t quite sure it would be fair to him to start something.
He laughed and pulled me closer into a half hug. His mouth pressed against my temple. “It’s okay, Jem. I mean, you’re breaking my heart here, but I can try to withstand the pain a little longer.”
“I have to go,” I said, and pulled away.
Darek grabbed me around the waist and tugged me back.
“Why?” he asked.
“Because if Crowe walked in right now, one of us would be gutted. Probably me.”
“Damn. Abusive much? You know that’s what you’re supposed to call that behavior, right?” Now he looked pissed. His fists were clenched. Crap. With the Harleys parked, the Devils could be heard shouting and laughing outside, and fear pulled me taut.
“I was exaggerating. He’d never hurt me.” Not physically, anyway. He’d already hurt me emotionally, too many times to count.
“Don’t make excuses for him,” he whispered in my ear. “In fact, don’t think about him at all.” Darek’s fingers found their way beneath my shirt, to the sensitive skin at the small of my back. His fingers were ghosts, his touch light but somehow far-reaching, too, so that I felt it all the way down to my toes.
I wanted him to stop.
I didn’t want him to let go.
My knees threatened to buckle. The minty bite of my magic was all around me, clinging to him where our skin connected like it didn’t want to let him go, either. I closed my eyes just long enough to summon an ounce of self-control. Darek’s hands withdrew, and he stepped away.
“I’ll see you later, then? At the house?” he asked.
I blinked. “Um… sure.”
He started for the door.
“Wait.” I brushed past him. “Let me go first. Just in case.”
He nodded and waited in the shadows of the tent as I ducked outside into the stark light of day, suddenly blinded.
SEVEN
I LOST ALEX FOR A FEW HOURS AFTER SHE’D LEFT ME WITH Darek. I spent most of that time wandering the grounds, greeting and chatting with a few people I hadn’t seen since last year in New Orleans, talking about their journeys to Hawthorne and their plans for the summer. I finally ran into my best friend near the beer tent. By then, the sun had started to slip lower in the sky, the branches of the surrounding woods reaching to swallow it entirely. People had started to arrive in greater numbers, and the makeshift parking lot at the eastern end of the property quickly filled up. The scent of magic all mixed together blended into a heavy funk that made my stomach churn and my vision blurry. My happy Jack Daniel’s buzz had pretty much worn off, and beer was going to be a necessity.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Alex said, and grabbed me by the hand. She tried to pull me away from the beer tent, but I planted my feet.
“I’ve been looking for you, too,” I said. “You were about to tell me something when Darek walked in and—”
“Calling him by his first name now, are you?”
“What else would I call him?”
“Hot Stuff, maybe.”
I sighed. “So what were you going to tell me? Something you found of your dad’s?”
“Later. First, we are on a mission,” she said triumphantly, as if we were setting off to save the world. But I knew Alex well enough that I was immediately on guard. Her missions usually led to trouble. Actually, everything Alex did led to trouble.
“What sort of mission? And can I have a drink first?”
“Operation: Eavesdrop. And no, you can’t.” She tugged my arm, clearly willing to put up a fight.
With a whine, I started walking. “Who are we eavesdropping on?”
“My brother.”
A few kindled I didn’t recognize hurried down the path ahead of us, lighting lanterns suspended from curved iron hooks. Two of the kindled used conventional grill lighters. The third used her outstretched hand and a breath of shimmering pink air. The wick inside the lantern caught quickly, the tip of the flame crackling with magic. It reminded me of fireworks—a snap and sparkle, along with the earth-and-flowers scent of terra magic.
Alex led me to an unmarked tent that sat on the edge of the large clearing, far enough away from the festival entrance that no one had managed to stumble their way back here yet, and if Crowe had his way, no one would.
Shhh, Alex mouthed, and pressed a finger against her lips.
I rolled my eyes, because obviously I knew the finer points of eavesdropping.