Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

PIPER

There was one big problem with Lyre’s suggestion that Piper think unsexy thoughts: the simple fact that he was supernaturally, undeniably, and irresistibly sexy.

She felt it the moment he unleashed his seduction magic. Heat tingled through her body, making her skin flush like she had a fever. Swooping warmth danced in her lower belly, and her limbs quivered with electric anticipation.

Clenching her jaw, Piper peeked through the crack in the closet door she and Lyre were hiding behind. She could only see the woman’s dark silhouette, but the man was visible—thin and average looking with brown hair and a scraggly goatee. Who the hell were these two, and why were they “guarding” the Consulate?

The woman’s silhouette was having trouble standing still. She fanned herself, then pressed her fingers to the top of her chest. Her weight shifted from foot to foot, and she inhaled loudly.

Piper was having difficulty thinking of anything besides Lyre’s hands on her waist. Her skin was so hot that his hands felt cool even through her clothes.

She didn’t realize she’d pressed back into him until his fingers tightened, keeping an inch of space between them. She needed to focus. Lyre had said to think unsexy thoughts. What was an unsexy thought?

“There she goes,” Lyre said, his whisper bubbling with amusement.

The woman, a tall brunette, strode past the crack in the door, making a beeline for the guy sitting on the stairs.

He looked up. “What?—”

She grabbed his face and kissed him—fully open mouth, tongue and everything. The guy was so surprised he fell into the stairs. The woman straddled him as she kissed him. It took exactly two seconds for the guy to get over his surprise and reciprocate. Their clothes would start flying soon.

Lyre leaned against Piper’s back, presumably to get a better view of what was going on outside the closet. His warm, hard body was pressed into her back, and his breath teased her ear, sending shivers down her neck. The swooping heat in her belly was starting to burn.

She reached up and back, her fingers finding the silky strands of his hair and tangling in them as she arched into him.

“Uh, Piper …”

“Shut up,” she breathed. “You’re a mean, mean incubus, you know that?”

His thumbs massaged tiny circles on her waist as he held her in place. “I have a great many shortcomings, but regardless, we can’t waste our chance to get out of the closet.”

“What’s wrong with the closet?” she mumbled, pushing her ass back into his hips.

He nudged her forward, but she tightened her grip on his hair. “Piper, let me go. We have to get out of here before they finish, which, considering that guy’s enthusiasm, won’t take long.”

She blinked, struggling to clear the haze from her mind. “Right. Let’s go.”

He waited a moment. “You’re not moving.”

She unclenched her hands and dropped her arms to her sides. Lyre let out a long sigh that could’ve been relief or disappointment.

“See if the coast is clear,” he murmured.

Feeling feverish, Piper stepped to the edge of their hiding spot and looked around the door. Ew. Yeah, those two weren’t about to notice her and Lyre. They probably wouldn’t notice the roof falling on their heads. Piper gestured for Lyre to follow, and they crept out of the closet and across the foyer, taking care not to trip over any debris. The distracted couple didn’t so much as glance their way.

Once she and Lyre were in the hallway, Piper hastened straight to her father’s office. They had no time for dawdling. Where two mysterious interlopers lurked, more might be found.

“I’ll get some food,” Lyre whispered as she opened the office door. “Meet me in the kitchen.”

Nodding, she stepped into the office and closed the door.

The familiar smell of leather was comforting, but the sight of the room wasn’t. Like her bedroom, it had been ransacked. The desk had been broken in half, probably in search of hidden compartments. The leather chair had been cut open and the stuffing scattered everywhere. Papers covered the floor.

Lips pressed tight, Piper strode across the carpet of papers to the built-in bookshelves, the contents of which were heaped at its base. The painting that used to hang beside them was three feet away with a slash through the canvas. She knelt and pressed the tiny button in the corner above the baseboard. A metallic clack sounded from behind the wood.

Standing, she swung an entire panel of the wall open like a door. Behind it was a steel safe, its black metal gleaming and the lock lined up perfectly at zero.

With a deep breath, she began to turn it. Fourteen, twenty-five, nine. She lifted her fingers from the cool metal, grabbed the handle, and pulled.

The door swung silently open.

The safe contained three shelves full of file folders. Which one did she need? She looked around the office and spotted her father’s briefcase half buried under the desk’s remains. She grabbed it and pulled. It slid free, and the desk hit the floor with a thump.

Swearing under her breath, she rushed back to the safe, scooped out handfuls of folders, and stacked them in the briefcase. When the safe was empty, she forced the briefcase shut.

The ceiling creaked overhead. Footsteps padded toward the stairs.

Knowing she had less than a minute, she dashed to the window and slid it open. The screen refused to pop off, so she reached for her boot. When she’d changed her clothes in her bedroom, she hadn’t missed the opportunity to arm herself. Two knives were tucked in hidden sheaths down the sides of her calf-high leather boots.

She pulled out a blade and cut the screen. Watching the office door out of the corner of her eye, she forced the briefcase through the gap in the screen and let it fall into the shadows beside the manor. She shut the safe door, then the panel that hid the compartment. It clunked into place a moment before the door clattered and flew open.

Piper spun around, her back pressed to the wall panel. Two men stood in the threshold, both total strangers.

“Oho,” the older one exclaimed with a grin. “The girl did come back.”

“Finally,” his companion chimed in. “I was sick of waiting.”

The older guy was tall and wiry, the other tall and beefy. They were dressed casually in jeans and jackets, with stubble on their jaws and the rumpled look of people who hadn’t brushed their hair or changed their clothes in days.

“Who the hell are you?” Piper demanded. Not daemons, she was sure of that.

“We know who you are, Piperel.” The older guy gave her a swift once-over. “This is how it’s going to work. Come quietly or we will use force.”

“Come with you?” Piper repeated, taken aback. If these guys were after the Sahar, they didn’t need to take her anywhere. “Where?”

The younger guy smirked. “Don’t you want to see your dad?”

Whatever Piper had been expecting, that wasn’t it. Her mouth opened, but she didn’t know what to say first.

The older guy crooked a long finger, gesturing her closer. “We’ll take you to him. Just promise to cooperate. Maybe you can even spare him some suffering. He doesn’t want to tell us where the Sahar Stone is.”

“What makes you think I know something he doesn’t?” she bluffed, her tone aggressive.

“You could convince him to tell us.”

“That’s a great idea. Then you won’t need either of us alive.”

“We won’t hurt you.” He forced a smile. “You belong with us, Piperel.”

She clenched her hands. Her creep meter was off the scale. She belonged with them?

“I don’t think she’s going to come willingly,” the younger guy observed.

The older guy raised one hand. “Don’t say we didn’t warn you.”

He made a violent chopping gesture. The air crackled, and an invisible spell smacked Piper in the face. She slammed into the wall so hard that all the air left her lungs, and she slumped to the floor as her diaphragm attempted to merge with her liver.

“You idiot,” a voice snapped. “We weren’t supposed to hurt her.”

“She’ll be okay,” the other grumbled.

His face appeared as he leaned over her. Haemons. Stupid haemons with stupid magic attacking her. Her lungs finally started to work again, and as she gasped in a breath, she squinted up at her assailant. She wiggled her fingers to make sure they were working—then punched the guy in the nose.

He jerked back with a yelp. Before the other guy could react, Piper’s boot hit him square in the groin. He sank to the floor without a sound, his eyes bulging and his face turning purple.

Sucking in air, she rolled to her feet. The older guy pulled a hand away from his bleeding nose and lifted it. Piper jumped forward and grabbed his wrist before he could hit her with magic again. A twist, a shove, and down he went, roaring in pain as his elbow dislocated.

She jumped over him, streaking for the door. She careened into the hall—and found two more people waiting for her.

“Ugh,” she groaned in recognition. The passion pair. Their clothes were back on, and the woman had a stunned, slightly appalled look on her face.

“It’s her!” the guy exclaimed. “Look!”

“I’m not blind,” the woman muttered.

They were four paces away. Before Piper could decide whether to run for it or attack, the woman made a circular motion with her hand. The air buzzed with power and an invisible spell snapped around Piper’s arms, binding them against her sides. She wrenched at the spell, but it was too strong to break.

“Okay, girlie,” the guy said, his tone patronizing, “we’ve got you now. You?—”

“Got me?” Piper hissed. “You think?”

His mouth hung open stupidly. Piper strode forward. So her hands were tied with magic. Big freaking deal.

She swung her leg out in a roundhouse kick that slammed into the woman’s side. She crashed into the wall. Piper whirled around, bent forward, and rammed her elbow into the guy’s gut. As he doubled over on top of her, she straightened her legs and pitched him headfirst over her shoulder.

He landed with a crunch and collapsed, moaning faintly.

Arms still bound, Piper tilted her head to pop her neck. Haemons. Always relying on their magic. As if one little spell would make her surrender without a fight.

She rolled her shoulders, using the motion to ensure the Sahar’s ring box was still firmly lodged in her shirt, then hopped over the moaning loser and trotted into the kitchen. By some miracle, the long, glossy wood table was still standing, but half the chairs were broken. The cupboards all hung open, dishes shattered all over the floor. The pantry door gaped wide as well, and most of its contents had been dumped on the floor.

Had the prefects done this? Would they have smashed everything in a rushed, frantic search? Or had other trespassers sifted through every inch of the Consulate in search of the Sahar Stone?

Piper’s skin prickled with unease. She looked around the kitchen again, her gaze darting over the mess and destruction.

There was no sign of Lyre anywhere.