Chapter 12

Daire rolled over and hit the floor with a hard clunk. Sparks lit across his rug. Smoke filled the penthouse and his phone buzzed from the table. An alarm should’ve gone out immediately upon breach, but Adam and Simone were out to dinner and Kellach was in Ireland.

Backup would take precious minutes.

He sucked in air, focusing on the tranq in his blood. ’Twas the same as the drug Felicity had first used to incapacitate him.

Big mistake.

His body would’ve created antibodies from the first dose, and he could actually feel the energy rippling through him as his blood negated the interloper. Closing his eyes, he focused more power into his cells, taking the energy of fire and burning away the drug.

Minutes later, he reached for his jeans and yanked them on.

Boot steps clamored up the stairs.

Adam and Simone rushed inside, green guns in hand. “Status!” Adam barked.

Daire shot a slightly numb hand through his hair. “We’re clear.”

Simone slowly tucked the gun into her waistband.

Daire growled. “A member of the Council of the Coven Nine does not double as an enforcer, even in case of emergency.”

Her dark eyes sparkled, and she tossed back curly brunette hair. “I’m here as your cousin, not as a pseudo-enforcer.” As a purebred witch, her voice was husky, low, and amused. For her dinner out, she’d donned dark jeans, designer boots, and a leather jacket that probably had cost more than his flat. She was a brilliant smartass, quite happy being a bitch, and made no apologies. Ever.

Daire adored her. “Put yourself in danger again, cousin, and as an enforcer, I’ll lock you down.” His main job as an enforcer was to protect the members of the Nine, and if anything happened to the spirited witch, the world would lose too much beauty.

She rolled her eyes. “Please tell me another little blond human didn’t just take you out.”

He paused.

Adam glanced around at the smashed window and broken glass strewn across the floor, his frown dark. “Again? Who is this Cee Cee?”

The feeling finally returned to Daire’s legs. “She’s actually Felicity Kyllwood.”

Simone gasped, her eyes widening.

Adam stiffened, his mouth pressing together.

“Exactly.” Daire grabbed his phone. “They couldn’t have gone far. Simone, get to your flat and hack into every camera within a mile. Relay the information to us through the earbuds.” He jogged to his room to yank on a dark T-shirt and motorcycle boots.

Adam followed him. “The smart move is to notify Zane Kyllwood and let the demon nation handle the woman.”

“I’m handling the woman,” Daire bit out, reaching for his key from the dresser as he passed by.

“Shit.” Adam, always the strategist, shook his head and followed. He stepped over rubble and broken glass, his phone in his hand, already punching in orders. “I had no sense she was a demon. None at all.”

Daire prowled out of the penthouse and reached the stairs, running down. “She doesn’t have the ability to attack minds, and she can’t teleport. So she doesn’t really give off demon vibes.”

Adam coughed from behind him. “She can’t mind attack?”

“No.”

“Interesting.”

“Not really.” Daire didn’t give a shit if she could attack minds, but it made her vulnerable if she was going after an enemy. At least he wouldn’t have to waste energy shielding against an attack when he caught up to her.

Adam leaped onto his Harley next to Daire. “She seems so innocent.”

“Ha.” The woman had drugged him . . . twice. Yet there was a sense of wonder to her, and even though she’d been sheltered, she’d dealt with pain and loss. Not that her history mattered. As an enforcer, he had the present to deal with, and that pertained to planekite and mines. As a man, he had his woman to deal with—whether she liked it or not.

Adam ignited his bike.

Daire glanced down at his aching hand and slowly turned it over, already knowing what he’d see.

Adam caught the gaze, saw Daire’s palm, and quickly turned the key. The pipes silenced. “You’re kidding.”

“No.” An intricate Celtic knot, the emblem of his people, stood in raised relief on his palm. The marking that a witch transferred to a mate. “It just appeared.”

Adam shook his head. “Wow. She’s a demon, bro.”

“Aye.”

Adam scratched his chin. “Demons brand their mates with the letters of their surnames. If you brand her, will she brand you?”

Daire lifted a shoulder. He’d never met a witch mated to a demon. “If it’s a brand, I’d have to allow it to remain on my skin, I think. Besides, you and I both have had the marking appear before on our flesh.”

“True. Remember that crazy wolf shifter I almost mated? The marking appeared, and I willed it away. Thank God. So don’t worry, you can will that marking away and don’t have to mate the demonness who keeps making you look like an ass.”

Daire cut him a sharp look.

Adam gave a body shudder and reached for his phone to quickly dial. “Simone? What did you find out?” He listened and then nodded. “Keep looking.” The phone disappeared in his pocket. “Felicity and her gang went north, and Simone is sending tracking information to our cell phones.”

Daire twisted the key and his bike roared to life. A marking might appear just because a possible mate had gotten close; it didn’t mean he and Felicity were fated. He didn’t believe in fate, and if he did, fate would have a nice, docile, sweet woman ready for him. One who didn’t get in the way of his job and was a soft place to land when needed.

Fate definitely wouldn’t stick him with a wounded demon who’d rather drug him than work with him. No way. He jerked his head toward the exit and swung his bike around, heading out at full speed.

Felicity Kyllwood, demon or not, wasn’t getting out of his reach this time. He reached into his pocket and grabbed an earbud to shove in his ear. Heading north, he swerved around cars, past restaurants, and around drunken pedestrians. Simone gave directions in his ear, her keyboard clacking across the line.

“They’re on bikes and just turned east onto Bentley Road,” she said.

Daire cut Adam a look. “Bears’ territory?” he mouthed.

Adam exhaled heavily and twisted his throttle.

Oh, the bear shifters had better not be in on this. The bears lived in plain sight as the Grizzly Motorcycle Club and usually kept to themselves. Anger tightened Daire’s hold on the handles, and he pushed his bike harder. A rumble from up ahead disturbed the airwaves. He focused, realigning oxygen molecules, applying quantum physics in a way humans would never understand. Five riders, about a mile ahead.

His blood thrummed with the thrill of the chase. He’d forgotten. Actually forgotten the excitement of a challenge. It had been so long since he’d had one.

Felicity was one hell of a challenge.

He leaned over the bike and let the wind roll across his shoulders. Lights. Up ahead, he saw lights. So he kicked it into gear, fire all but burning through his skin.

Her scent. That hyacinth sweet scent wafted back, and his nostrils flared. Mine.

Forgetting his job, forgetting formality, even forgetting diplomacy, he chased her. She sat behind a large shifter, her arms around his back, her glorious hair streaming in the wind.

The sight of her with her arms around another male had fury careening through him until green sparks shot from his fingers.

She turned her head and caught sight of him. Her eyes widened and her lips pursed. Then, slowly, her mouth curved in a smile, and challenge filled her eyes.

Oh, baby. It was on . . . and it was the smile that drew him toward her. Aye. That damn smile.

Felicity held on tighter to Lucas Clarke, bear shifter, her heart leaping to life. Daire Dunne, on a Harley, chasing her down looked like every nice girl’s dream of a bad boy fantasy.