Awakening Kiss (Watcher's Kiss Book 4) Read online

  He groaned as his cock stirred at her stimulation. Horns were so sensitive, any tactile sensation was lust-inducing. But he shoved the thought down, knowing she was a sure thing for later. “Not yet, baby.” He took her hand in his. “Not quite done here.”

  She pouted for two seconds, then curled up against his side. “Okay. You keep working so very hard…” her words were enunciated with a sultry tone. “… and I’ll help you relax and take all your stress away when you’re ready.”

  Soren returned, not glancing at the nymph. “She’s one hundred percent fairy. Had her ears done by a healer on Torth.”

  “Oh my gods, I’ve heard of that!” The nymph turned toward the dance floor. “Sounds barbaric, but hmm…let me go talk to her.” With a flip of long blond hair, she was gone.

  “I think their attention span is less than a fly’s,” Soren commented.

  “Unless the current activity is sex.”

  “And that’s a beautiful thing.” Soren stretched his arms out along the back of the booth. “This club’s got nothing tonight.”

  “No shit.” Antonio shook his head. “Back to the neighborhoods tomorrow.” The two demons would stay in the city as long as it took to determine if it was home to any creatures with unusual abilities. No matter how little enthusiasm he may have for the job, Antonio would hang out with Soren, blending in, attending festivals and events both big and small. They would observe and track, senses attuned to any unexpected magic or occurrences.

  In a city of more than two million people, surely someone of note lived here. And anyone they found would be taken and turned over to their current employer on Torth, the rough-living band of Ghaszul demons known as Splinter.

  CHAPTER 8

  TWO DAYS AFTER THE WEIRDEST experience of her life, Enza walked the short distance from the bus stop to Java Genie, the sun hot and the air already sticky even at five in the morning.

  Waking early was part of baking in a coffee shop, and she loved the quiet time alone with her edible creations, getting work done amidst the comforting aromas of bread, butter, and melting chocolate. Smells were like a dictionary in her head, knowledge that was catalogued with specific details. She could tell when Meena or the baristas brewed a peppermint mocha, even if she was back in the kitchen.

  She’d replaced her phone yesterday, rising late after a fitful night. And the whole time she’d been out running errands, she’d looked down every alley and took second looks at every person, with Rhys’s words in her head. Some creatures in our city aren’t human. She didn’t know what she expected to see. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary…but somehow she felt like a veil had been lifted.

  Rhys. If she had to end up in a crazy situation with a stranger, she couldn’t have asked for a better one. She had no way to confirm or deny anything he said…but she wasn’t about to do the whole pot-and-kettle thing. She was a walking case study for electrical eccentricity. At least she was back at home and work, in one piece. Cracking one egg after another, she wondered if she’d ever see him again. Wandering the Gold Coast in search of him didn’t sound like a sensible option. But the thought that he might have only been in her life for a few hours left her oddly disappointed.

  The slide of metal on metal reached her ears. Meena. Enza couldn’t explain it—even tucked in the depths of the building, she could hear a key in the lock out front.

  The familiar slam of the main door echoed as Enza turned on her ovens and pulled out some baking sheets. Meena usually came in early and scheduled the baristas to do the same. By five thirty, they always had customers. Half asleep and very mellow, but glad to get a fresh cup of joe.

  “Enza!” Meena rushed into the kitchen and wrapped Enza in a hug. “Oh my god, girl, how are you?”

  “I’m fine. I told you.” Enza hugged her friend back, knowing this would happen. Despite a hundred reassurances that she was unharmed, Meena had flown into hysterics yesterday upon hearing Enza had narrowly escaped three assholes.

  Now, Meena pulled back and her gaze raked Enza from head to toe. “No scratches. No bruises. Any I can’t see?” She frowned.

  “You can stop worrying.” Enza poured reassurance into her voice. “I told you, they never touched me. Just chased me.”

  “I don’t ever want you to stay late and go home alone. Your amazing recipes can wait until morning,” Meena admonished. “You either call a cab, or hire a bodyguard. Promise.”

  An image of Rhys popped into Enza’s mind. Huge, muscular...and yes, protective. He’d be a nice bodyguard. “Um, okay. I promise.”

  Meena plopped down onto a stool. “You should move to a nicer neighborhood. Hey! Move in with me!”

  Enza froze her face into a fake smile. “No way. You’re too messy. I could die and no one would find me under all your crap.” Her friend, while brilliant and organized in school and work, was a pack rat and slob at home.

  “I’m not that bad.” Meena folded her arms. “My block is safer than yours.”

  “I honestly think this was a random thing. My bad luck.”

  “Morning.” Josie, one of the baristas, poked her head in. “Enza, how are you? I can’t believe that happened to you!”

  “I’m good. Everything turned out fine.” Thanks to Rhys being in the same alley. Enza moved two dozen pre-rolled croissants to a baking sheet and slid it into the oven.

  “My brother doesn’t live far from here. He said to call if you need someone to walk you home.” Josie pulled her blond hair up into a messy bun.

  “That would be great; tell him thank you for me,” Enza murmured. Josie was always trying to fix her twin brother up with someone. He seemed nice enough, but not Enza’s type. Still, having company on the way home would be reassuring.

  “We have a line,” Josie said, peeking into the front.

  “That’s our cue.” Meena hopped up and followed Josie out of the kitchen.

  Enza worked for hours, kneading some dough and mixing sugar and flour for others, drizzling ganache and crushing almonds to the music of Katy Perry on her little plug-in phone speakers. She had no idea how much time had passed when Meena burst into the kitchen.

  “Oh. My. God. Enza,” she whisper-yelled, laying a hand on Enza’s wrist.

  “What? What’s wrong?” Enza looked up, startled.

  “The tallest, hottest guy I have ever seen is here. And he’s asking for you!” Meena’s brown eyes were huge.

  “Holy hotness on a stick!” Josie ran in next. “Sexiest name ever, to go with that sexy ass.” She made a show of fanning her face. “Says his name is…Rhys.”

  Enza nearly dropped the whisk she was using to keep her melting chocolate from burning. “Rhys?”

  “Who is he and how do you know him? Where and when did you meet him? Why am I finding out now?” Meena demanded, but her eyes were playful. “Girl, you’ve been holding out on me. You are so dead.”

  “I’m not. I just met him the other night.” Enza’s hand shook. He’s here? “What did he say?”

  “He asked for you, specifically, and his voice is so low and rumbly, like he knows what he wants and he’s gonna get it. Enza.” Meena pitched her voice as deep as she could, giggling.

  “Um.” Enza blinked. She hadn’t been sure if he remembered her at all. He probably had women throwing themselves at him.

  “Well, go talk to him before the stroller mom crowd soaks our floor with their drool,” Josie said. “They’re eating him up with their eyes, let me tell you.”

  “I can’t leave the chocolate. It’s at the critical point where it’ll burn—”

  “Fuck the chocolate.” Meena looked at her like she was crazy.

  “I’d fuck him,” Josie said.

  “Stop!” Enza raised her voice. “He—” She looked up and clapped a hand over her mouth in mortification.

  Rhys stood in the kitchen doorway, looking amused and even sexier in daylight. Sun from the kitchen’s rear window lit his broad chest and played along every ridge of muscle in his arms.

  Meena
and Josie froze, then Meena cleared her throat. “Customers can’t be back here,” she said. “But we can make a special exception.” She grabbed Josie’s hand and pulled her toward the front, turning to give Enza a wink.

  Rhys stepped aside to let them through. “Hey.”

  Enza opened and closed her mouth. “Um, hi.” She glanced at the chocolate, thanking her muscles for remembering to stir even though her brain had gone to mush. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

  He strode into the room and sat on one of the tall stools she kept by the work table. “I was in the neighborhood.”

  “Oh?” She dragged her eyes away from him. “That’s nice. Um, hang on…” Her chocolate was ready. She had to pour it now, or risk having it burn or start to solidify. And re-melting it never tasted right, at least not to her. She turned off the burner and brought the pan to a tray of sweet rolls with thumbprints hollowed out in the center. Methodically she poured a thimble full of warm chocolate into each one, letting a thin stripe paint its way across each crust for flair. One, two…ten…thirty rolls… “Done.” She set the pan in the sink and wiped an arm across her brow.

  “I didn’t realize I’d catch you in the middle of precision cooking.” He nodded at the rolls.

  She popped the baking sheet into an oven and giggled. “I never thought of this as precise…then again, baking is part science and part art. There are definite times when not minding the stove will cause disaster.”

  “I’m guessing you don’t have too many of those.” Eyes that matched her chocolate glittered in playful mirth. Her cheeks heated.

  “I try not to.” She fiddled with a corner of her apron, not sure if she should sit, keep working, or make him leave... No way. She didn’t want him to go. “Are you hungry?”

  “I could go for something sweet.” The low timbre of his voice reached down into her core.

  She fought to talk normally and not squeak like a little girl. “What do you like?”

  He waited a beat. Never once breaking his focus on her. “I’m sure I’d like anything you make. Surprise me.”

  Her tummy flipped. No, wait—it did a cartwheel—roundoff combo. He was in her space, he had sought her out, and he was flirting. Oh my god.

  The timer on one oven went off, breaking the silence stretching between them. “Oh, um, hang on.” She stopped the beeping noise and grabbed her oven mitts. Her next batch was done.

  Very aware that she had to bend down to open the oven—completely showcasing her ass to him—Enza did so as fast as she could. She didn’t want him to get the wrong idea and think she was acting forward. Then again, he’d initiated this visit…god, her mind was scrambled. Turning back, she set it on the table and met his eyes, which hadn’t left her. “Pound cake. I still need to make the icing.”

  “I bet it’s just as good plain.” He reached for it—

  “Stop, you’ll burn your hand.” She instinctively grabbed his arm.

  He turned to her and tension swirled again like a vortex mixing with the heat of the appliances. His skin was warm and his sexy full lips quirked up.

  She yanked her hand back. “I’m sorry,” she said. “You can have a slice. Of course you can. Just let me cut it—”

  “No, you’re right,” he said. “I got a little eager.”

  Enza just stood there, embarrassed that she had touched him but kind of wanting to do it again. “I have other things that are cool enough to eat.”

  The twinkle returned to his eyes. “Like I said, surprise me.”

  She swallowed and walked to another counter where a sheet of blueberry muffins sat ready to go into the case as soon as the current tray emptied out. “Here,” she said. “An old standard.”

  He took it, eyes locked on her, and took a bite. “Delicious.”

  “Thank you.” Not that she thought he wouldn’t like it, but she was still glad he did. She started to get out ingredients for the cake icing and set them on the table.

  “I should go. You’re busy,” he said. “I barged in here, after all.”

  “You can stay.” True, he was distracting, but she liked that he had come.

  “Nah, I need to get back to work. I just wanted to see if you were okay. New phone?” He nodded at her device.

  “Yeah, the store was actually very cool about it.” She’d gotten a newer model. “I still need to reinstall all my apps and reenter my contacts though. I spent yesterday replacing my driver’s license and cancelling the credit cards that were in my wallet.”

  He frowned. “Sorry about that.”

  “Not your fault.”

  “Still, that’s a pain in the ass.” He studied the baking-themed artwork she’d hung up on the walls, then swung back to her. “So, there’s a street festival this Saturday, up on Lincoln Avenue.”

  She nodded. “Yep, Java Genie will have a booth there.”

  “Oh.” A pensive look crossed his face.

  “Why?”

  “I wanted to see if you’d go with me.”

  “Oh.” She blinked. Oh my god, yes yes yes. “I do have to work part of the day there, but not the whole time.” She couldn’t keep the grin off her face. Hottest guy ever asked her out! “Just come over anytime after eight.”

  He smiled, genuine affection mixed with—was that a tiny bit of relief? “Mind giving me your number in case anything comes up?”

  “Sure.” She rattled off her contact information and entered his into her phone.

  “Great.” He took a step back. “See you Saturday.”

  “Yep.” Giddiness swamped her and she didn’t have a prayer of hiding it. “Oh, wait.” She reached for her knife and cut a slice of pound cake, then wrapped it in waxed paper. “For the road.”

  His fingers brushed hers as he took it, sending a jolt of electricity all the way to her toes. “Thanks.” He turned and strode out.

  She took a greedy second to appreciate his ass, which was as sexy in those jeans as Josie had said. Wow. Her former idea of him being nuts seemed so distant it was only a fragment of memory. He seemed completely normal…except for the fact that he knew about all kinds of creatures that shouldn’t exist.

  What was she getting herself into?

  Rhys walked south from Java Genie, soaking up the summer sun like oxygen. Heat, cold, fog, blizzards—he was used to all of them. Had operated in enough areas of the realms over his three hundred years of life that he could adapt to anything.

  That’s why Chicago suited him. Crazy weather changed every five minutes.

  He bit into the fresh cake Enza had handed him and closed his eyes for a second in appreciation. It didn’t need icing, it was damn good just like that. Just like the blueberry muffin. If this was any indicator, she was one of the city’s best bakers.

  She’d looked sexy as hell, with flour streaking her arms and tendrils of dark hair escaping her bun. He’d counted four ovens, all with some kind of doughy creations inside, and eight gas burners. Decorative signs in Italian hung on the walls, alternating with artwork of cakes, cupcakes, and fancy desserts he had no idea what to call. And moving around like a general, in total command of every last grain of sugar in the room, Enza exuded confidence. Never flustered as she moved piping hot pastries from stove to oven to sink and back…except when she looked at him. Enza was a delicacy he couldn’t stop thinking about.

  He knew her smell. How would she taste? Damn…

  Lincoln Park’s neat streets gave way to the even pricier brownstones and graystones of the Gold Coast. Modern condo buildings soared, with the trendy requisite balconies hanging off them like odd iron attachments. The pounding of a drum thumped from one corner as a man swayed, nodding and smiling at passersby.

  Taxis honked at pedestrians who paid no attention to the lights and crossed streets whenever they felt like it. He strode through the high rent shopping district with its designer boutiques before reaching his own street.

  In a minute he was through the gated iron fence and in the cool dark foyer. He let the heavy oak door slam behind h
im and headed for the kitchen. Grabbing a water bottle, he moved into the den and sat in front of his computers.

  With a few keystrokes, he linked to the GPS tracker he’d surreptitiously attached to Enza’s new phone. Red halos flared out from the dot, reassuring him the thing was working and that she was at her shop. It hadn’t been hard to slip the tiny chip between her device and the case that protected it. She’d had to turn away from him often to mind her burners and ovens. The problem had been him nearly getting busted every time, checking out her curvy ass.

  But he’d done it. And it would give him a small measure of satisfaction to know where she was, if she ever ended up in a sketchy neighborhood again.

  How would she feel about being tracked? He sat back in his chair and folded his arms. She might be pissed. But he was worried about her safety.

  Damn. If he were honest, it was more than worry. Something about her intrigued him and awakened the need to protect. Who the hell knew why, but he would roll with it and accept her potential anger at him for tampering with her phone.

  Glancing out the window at the thick hedges beyond, he frowned. Was it worth the risk? He knew exactly what it felt like, the betrayal of trust, the knowledge someone had been keeping tabs on him and snooping in his business. Only his situation had been one of manipulation, not concern.

  Sinna. In the length of a demon’s life, she was here for just a recent blink in time. A full Deserati female, she had jet black hair and bright blue eyes, and she’d fallen hard for Rhys. Or so he thought.

  They’d never felt the bond that mates feel, but the weeks they spent together had been a haze of insatiable desire mixed with fun, goofing off time. And she’d shared his interest and skill with computers. They’d talked shop and swapped hacking tips.

  He just never expected to be on the wrong end of her fingers at the keyboard.