Mustache huffed, and I nearly passed out from the fumes. “Big words for a little girl.”
“Actually, I kept the words as small as possible so you could understand. Should I try again?”
His bushy eyebrows lowered over his beady eyes. Muscles popped out over his frame and his fists clenched. He straightened up slowly. It was a bad sign.
“It’s easier to beg for forgiveness than it is to ask for permission,” he said as he moved in closer.
That was a threat, and it was a damn good one.
I opened my mouth to scream at the kids to run, but a blur of movement made me flinch back. Mustache’s fist lifted, and suddenly another large body was right beside me. A strong arm struck the air in front of me, then pushed back, moving me behind his warm, sturdy body. A body that felt exactly as I’d imagined it would from being wrapped in the aching power of its energy field.
21
Alexis
It was the stalking stranger!
His fingers lazily wrapped around Mustache’s forearm, and though his arm wasn’t as big and he wasn’t as tall, his strength and power easily topped the other man’s. The stranger shoved, and half of Mustache’s body jerked backward, forcing him to stagger sideways into one of his cronies.
The guy hadn’t brought any friends. He stood alone against a group of five. If it bothered him even a smidgen, I sure as hell couldn’t tell.
“This woman is not to be touched. Not by anyone. Do you understand?” The stranger’s voice whipped out through the night, making Mustache jerk back and half the crowd startle. They looked in our direction with wide eyes. A moment later, a dozen people pointed.
The stranger’s head swiveled, and I knew he was raking his gaze across the five beefed-up bullies. A look of fear rolled across Mustache’s face. They visibly shrank before the stranger, and I couldn’t hide my shock.
“I apologize, sir,” Mustache said, taking a step back. “I wasn’t aware she was with you.” He put up his hands. “I’ll let the boss know. Sorry, sir. Sorry.”
“You do that,” the stalking stranger said, his demeanor supremely confident. “Right after you tell him that he’ll soon be out of business. I’ll be looking into his…collection. Personally.”
Mustache’s eyes widened, but he didn’t say another word.
Stunned, I watched as the wall of muscle limped back into the crowd like whipped dogs.
Who the hell was this dude?
Hands still shaking, I stared mutely at my stuff strewn all over the ground. My legs started shaking too. “And this is why I can’t have nice things.”
The stranger turned to me slowly, the feel of him washing over me and soaking into my blood. My skin tingled with rich, unadulterated desire. My core ached for satisfaction.
“Quick to turn on the charm, eh?” I forced out, trying to level my voice against the onslaught of heady, potent magic that curled around my body in all the right ways.
The stranger minutely bent, his face now inches from mine. His warm breath dusted my face, smelling of chocolate and salty sea foam.
“Just when I think I have a handle on all your oddities, you show up in a place like this and hold court.”
“Holy shi—” Daisy muttered. “Her descriptions didn’t do him justice. I thought she was exaggerating, but she was under-exaggerating.”
“He’s the danger I felt,” Mordecai whispered. “I still feel it. We need to get away from him.”
“We can all hear you,” I said. The kid needed to put down the book on trees and pick up one on stealth.
The stranger’s eyes roamed my face for one more moment before his head lifted and turned, taking in my wards.
“They don’t get out much,” I said, hurrying to put myself between him and them. “I don’t even think they know how to turn their mouths off. It’s a problem. We’re working on it.” I took a deep breath, trying to still the tremors running through my body. “Get ready to go, kids,” I said out of the side of my mouth.
“I can still hear you.” The stranger righted one of the chairs before prodding my non-magical would-be client in the ribs with his black, shiny boot. The guy had curled up into a ball, frozen in fear. He wasn’t great at survival, clearly. “Feck off.”
Like a kid hearing an ice cream truck jingle from afar, I tilted my head to the side. His accent had sounded Irish just now. Like Thick Mick’s, almost.
“I wish to purchase a…consultation,” he said, his accent back to what could best be described as generic American. He put the chair in its tape circle and sat. The non-magical guy stumbled to his feet before taking off running.
I stared at the stranger with a buzzing brain. I simply could not make sense of what was happening. An elbow jabbed me in the ribs, jarring me out of my daze.
“Yes, sir,” Daisy said loudly, before elbowing me again. “Come on,” she whispered urgently. “If he wanted us dead, he would’ve let those circus clowns with the mustaches do it. Let him buy a…thing. Look at his clothes. He can afford it.”
A crowd had gathered around, staring at the stranger with awe or shock. Phones came out and fingers tapped away.
They clearly knew who this guy was. I still did not. Of all the horrible times not to have done my homework.
“Right…” A tangled mess still littered the ground around me, two TV stands twisted and bent, another on its side. “Uh…”
“Get going,” Daisy said through clenched teeth.
“I’ll give you a moment to fix your station.” The stranger swept his fingers toward what remained of my belongings.
“Oh well, that’s magnanimous of you,” I said sarcastically.
“He just saved your ass. And ours, I might add.” Daisy shoved me toward the rug that had been flung. “The least you can do is give him a…thing.”
“That guy wasn’t going to kill me. Not here,” I murmured. “I would’ve handled it.” Part of me even believed that.
Mordecai joined us, his blanket dirty and looped over his arm. He was barely shivering, and luckily, we had plenty of medicine to ensure another cold wouldn’t take root.
“I vote we politely decline and get out of here,” he said, his voice almost too low to hear. “I sense danger from him, Alexis. I don’t know how, and I’ve never felt this before, but it’s a gut instinct, and I think we should trust it.”
“Of course he’s dangerous. Those clowns all but pissed themselves trying to get away.” Daisy picked up the rug and handed it to me. “Predators love a chase. He is clearly a predator, and he has clearly been hunting her. Give him the reading, Lexi. Make him happy—by lying if you have to—and then we’ll get out of here.”
“She’s better at survival than you,” I said to Mordecai, feeling the gravity of the situation in my gut. “I don’t know what he’s after, but I doubt he’ll leave until he gets it.”
“He’s toying with you.” Mordecai’s voice was still just above a whisper, but it had taken on a vicious tone I’d never heard from him before.
Daisy frowned at him, then patted his arm. “The ring is taking hold of you, huh?” She turned to me. “Hurry. I don’t like this any more than you guys do, but what choice is there?”
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I don’t know why he keeps turning up. But I might as well talk to him. Maybe he’ll realize I’m largely an untalented hack and finally leave me be.”
“Don’t hit-and-run yourself,” Daisy chided. “That lady next to us, with all the arm waving and moaning—she’s the untalented hack. You can actually do the magic stuff; you’re just an ass about it.” She picked up a smashed TV tray. “This one is trash. Do you need it right now?”
“Be nice to that guy,” Mordecai said, nearly aggressive in his unease. “Don’t give him any reason to take offense.”
“Mordie is starting to make me nervous,” Daisy said under her breath.
“That’s the shifter coming out in him. We’ll probably need to talk that through, but first…” I hoisted up the only TV tray that had mostly made it through the Great Mustache Collision. “Just have a seat. We’ll leave after this.”
I placed the TV tray and rug in front of the guy’s chair, then stared down at the tarot cards strewn across the ground. The crystal ball was nowhere to be found, and most likely it had rolled to freedom. If only I could have glanced through it and predicted that turn of events.
Heaving a tired sigh, I collected the cards and placed them on the TV tray, then sat on my chair, the only thing that had survived the animal handlers’ tirade.
“Right. Okay.” I clasped my fingers in my lap and finally met the stormy eyes of the most devilishly handsome man I’d ever seen. The wind worried his midnight hair, sending strands across his smooth forehead. His sharp cheekbones and straight nose threw shadows in such a way that he looked both noble and incredibly severe. Stubble adorned his strong features, and his high, arching eyebrows might have pushed his striking looks toward harsh instead of beautiful if not for those lush, shapely lips. Those babies pulled the whole look together, bending his ruggedness into something angels would weep over. He had been made by a divine hand.