Chapter 16

I returned to the harbor the next morning to direct Drex to the abandoned foundry the barrel dumper had led me to. It turned out that a group of enterprising, if unethical, alchemists were using it to create illegal substances. The Fae Council strictly oversaw the alchemy industry, both to restrict what was produced and to ensure toxic byproducts were handled properly. Such regulations severely restricted profitability, so there were always individuals trying to skirt the laws. I wasn't anyone's definition of a law-abiding citizen and had no love for the Council, but poisoning the harbor and killing fish, selkies, and merfolk was more than I could stomach.

After shifting back to human form the previous night, I'd spoken to the night watchman, and he'd assured me that Ziola was unharmed and had gone home. I'd smiled to myself as he enthusiastically sang her praises as a hero. With the assistance of two sailors, he'd tied up the second alchemist and called for the Enforcers. I hadn't wanted to be around when they arrived, so I'd left him to it.

What in the hells had Ziola been doing down on the docks anyway? Spying on me? I wouldn't put it past her. Not knowing where she lived, I couldn't check on her, but I had faith in her ability to take care of herself. Or at least that's what I'd told myself. I still worried. Shirley would probably have been waiting for me, but my heart hadn't been in it, and I'd gone home.

At the guildhall, I found Ziola in the basement exercise room, flipping, tumbling, and rolling across mats at one end of the room. I didn't want to interrupt and sat at the top of the steps to watch her unobserved. She wore tight leggings and a short top that exposed her midriff. It was probably normal exercise clothing in the circus, but downright scandalous anywhere else. If she frequently wore this here, it was no wonder Jareth was sniffing after her. And Lorget. And probably every other male in the guild with eyes in his head.

Clothing aside, Ziola's movements were mesmerizing. She was so graceful, each flip and twist highlighting the toned muscles in her arms, legs, and stomach. Her breath came in sharp pants, and beads of sweat glistened on her forehead. My own breathing quickened, and I couldn't take my eyes off her.

I'd always preferred well-endowed women like Shirley, but something about Ziola made my heart race and my body ache for her. Even a casual fling with another guild member was the height of insanity and I struggled to tamp down the desire. When I had my libido at least somewhat back under control, I stood and stomped down the steps to announce my arrival. I didn't want her to think I was a voyeur ogling her. Even if I was.

Ziola leaped into the air with incredible agility, every motion precise and beautiful. She completed a line of handsprings, walkovers, and cartwheels and halted next to the wall. Picking up a towel, she turned to face me and wiped her forehead.

For several long moments, we simply stared at each other. Fearing that my hunger for her would be plain on my face, I strode to the corner table with a water jug and poured a cup. I handed it to her before pouring one for myself. Leaning back against the table, I raised my cup.

"Cheers. I heard you were the heroine of the waterfront last night."

Her cheeks turned pink. "Hardly. I just got lucky."

"Not to hear the way the sailors are telling it," I said airily. "A red-headed avenging goddess rose from the sea. I believe several are getting new tattoos today."

She sputtered into her cup. "How did you even know it was me? I didn't see you on the docks."

"I know everything." I winked. "One of my many amazing talents."

"Were they able to catch the other man?"

"Yes. And their alchemy laboratory is shut down."

"Well, that's good."

I nodded and switched topics. "How good is your night vision?"

She blinked and responded, "Average, I guess."

"For a human, you mean?"

She nodded.

I tapped a finger on my cup while I thought about that. Then, looking pointedly at her clothing, I asked, "Do you have normal human clothing? I've only seen you in tunics and" — I waved an arm up and down at her — "this."

She looked down at herself, and her cheeks turned even redder. Bending over, she retrieved a tunic from the floor and slipped it over the skimpy shirt. "Better?"

"I was quite enjoying the other, to be honest."

She crossed her arms over her chest and squinted at me. "Why are you asking about clothes?"

"We should case Scepter Seraphim. We could do it at night, but you won't be able to see as many details."

"Then let's go now."

I sighed and shook my head. "It's a ritzy neighborhood. You'll stand out like a circus pony among racehorses."

Her spine stiffened, and she jabbed a finger at me. "Are you saying I look ridiculous?"

"Of course not. Circus ponies aren't ridiculous. They're little and cute."

She narrowed her eyes, and I had a feeling I was digging the hole deeper. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm saying you don't dress like the human women in the wealthy districts."

"What's wrong with my clothing?"

Ziola was being deliberately obtuse, and my temper snapped. "Other than the fact that until a few minutes ago you were wearing less than the whores down on Salisbury Street, nothing at all. Do you just like putting on a show for all the men?"

Her nostrils flared and her face flushed bright red. "So now I'm a whore?"

I threw my hands in the air and glared. "No! But you can't go parading around high-class neighborhoods dressed like that and not have everyone stare. The whole point is to be inconspicuous. You. Are. Not. Inconspicuous." By the end, I was nearly shouting.

She looked as if I'd struck her, and I moderated my tone. "You know I'm right. If you don't want to come, just say so. I'll case it tonight and tell you what I learn."

All of a sudden, Ziola deflated like a pillow with the stuffing pulled out. Her shoulders slumped and her chin dropped to her chest. "I don't have any other clothes," she said in a very small voice.

Of course she didn't. I felt a complete and utter ass. Blowing out a long breath, I raked my hand through my hair. I had previously guessed she didn't have money for unnecessary purchases but had forgotten about it. Gowns, bonnets, and shawls would be an unnecessary expenditure in our line of work. With a wince, I remembered how she'd almost been too proud to accept a meal at The Stony Mug.

"Why didn't you just say so?" I asked softly.

"Do you think I like not being able to afford anything?" she asked, her voice hitching.

I moved forward and put one arm loosely around her, giving her plenty of space to pull away if she didn't want to be touched. She stood rigidly but didn't retreat. "There's no shame in being poor." I rubbed my hand gently up and down her back. "I ate from trash cans before I learned to steal. Did you think I would judge you for not having money for fancy clothes?"

Her posture relaxed, and she twisted to lean into my chest. "I left the circus as soon as I could buy out my debt. Thinking back, I didn't really hate it, but I wanted to make my own way. I just never thought that making my own way meant being hungry."

Wrapping my other arm around her, I pulled her into a hug. "It's OK. I understand the desire to be independent. Probably better than most."

I simply held her for a while until I noticed the heat radiating from her body and the way her curves molded against me. The feel of her began setting my blood on fire. I tried to ignore it, but it was impossible with her so close. Ziola's breathing quickened against my chest, and I knew she was just as affected as I was.

I rested my cheek on the top of her head and tried to remember all the reasons this was a very bad idea. For the first time in my life, my memory failed, and I couldn't think of a single one. So, I lifted her chin and brought my lips to hers in a fierce kiss.

Ziola responded eagerly, her mouth opening under mine with a soft moan. I deepened the kiss, my tongue tangling with hers as I explored the sweet depths of her mouth. Her fingers dug into my lower back, and she pressed her hips against my rapidly hardening cock. I ran my hand down her slender form, kissing her with raw need and desperation. Logic kept telling me to break this off now, but my body wouldn't cooperate.

I lifted her into my arms, and her legs wrapped around my waist before I pushed her up against the wall. "We shouldn't be doing this," I whispered as I rolled my erection against her in a way that made her gasp.

"No, we shouldn't." She tightened her strong, sleek thighs around me and reached up to run her fingers through my hair. "But right now, I don't care."

I didn't either.

Her breath came fast and hard, and the sound whipped my arousal past the point of no return. She clawed at my shirt, pulling it out of my trousers and tugging at the buttons. Then she ran her small hands up my bare chest and I shivered at her touch. I slid one hand under her tunic and along the exposed skin between her leggings and her exercise top. The skin covering her toned abdomen was soft and smooth, leaving me desperate to touch the rest.

She whimpered when I brushed the side of one small, firm breast and twined her arms around my neck. Her lashes swept down, and she arched her back to press the peak into my palm. I needed to rip this damn exercise top off her so that I could pay proper attention to her breasts, but to do that, I would have to put her down. And I didn't ever want to put her down.

Not letting go, I moved my lips along her jaw and down her neck. I kissed and licked the soft skin below her ear and listened to her soft noises of pleasure. I was still trying to figure out how to lose our clothing without releasing her when the thump of footsteps upstairs penetrated the fog of lust coating my brain.

With mounting horror, I realized I was two heartbeats away from shredding Ziola's clothing with my teeth and rutting like a wild animal on the floor of the guildhall basement. Mustering every ounce of self-control I possessed—which wasn't much at the moment—I pushed first one and then the other of Ziola's legs from my waist and down to the floor. Standing completely still, I sucked in air like a drowning man.

Her green eyes snapped to mine, and her lower lip quivered ever so slightly. "You don't want to?" I could hear a tinge of hurt in her tone.

I pushed long strands of red hair that had come loose from her ponytail behind her ear and dropped my forehead to hers. Then I grasped one of her hands and directed it to the hard bulge between my legs. "Does this feel like I don't want to?" I rasped, my breathing ragged.

She rubbed her hand up the front of my trousers, and I stepped back, holding her away.

"If you don't stop, I'm going to throw you on that exercise mat and fuck you until your throat is hoarse from screaming my name."

She blinked. "You must be stronger than you look to carry an ego that size around with you."

"I'd take that as a challenge, but" — I pointed at the ceiling — "there are people upstairs who could come down at any minute. Is that really what you want?"

She shook her head, and I could see the haze of sexual desire lift from her eyes. She pulled her hand from mine and moved across the room. With shaking fingers, she scraped her hair back into its tight ponytail and tugged her tunic in place.

She waved a hand at my chest. "You'd better fix your shirt." Then she pointed lower. "And do something about that."

I looked down and grimaced. Expecting a sedate stroll through City Center, I'd worn the less constricting trousers of middle- and upper-class human males. Sadly, they did little to camouflage my current condition. With a grunt, I pulled my shirt off entirely and walked to a punching bag hanging in the corner.

"You go upstairs. I'll work out for a while." I paused and rubbed the back of my neck. "In fact, why don't you go home. We can meet at The Stony Mug for dinner and head to Scepter Seraphim after dark."

She gave me a long look. "I won't be able to see as much."

If I were smart, I'd tell her I'd go alone. Instead, I said, "I know. I'll describe any details you are unable to make out."