Someone moved. Rose wasn’t sure whom.
But she never even got a chance to join the fight.
Fionn and Kiyo sliced their swords through seven heads in seconds.
Actual seconds.
Ash danced in the air like dust, floating down to create seven piles on the packed dirt floor.
She couldn’t breathe.
She’d never seen anything like it.
It had been like some violent, brutal dance watching the werewolf and fae deftly avoid fists and fangs and legs as they whipped, spun, and sliced through the group of vamps.
Holy shit.
“Rose.” A touch on her chin stole her gaze from the piles of ash to Fionn’s face. “You with me?”
“What just happened?” She gestured to the deceased.
“She is new, isn’t she,” Kiyo murmured at Fionn’s side.
Rose touched her throat. “Can that happen to us?”
Fionn flicked a look at Kiyo before turning to her. His voice was low, so as not to be overheard. “No, we heal too fast. The sword would get pushed out by our healing abilities.”
Holy shit. Looking beyond him, she noted none of the other supes seemed to care that seven vampires had just been killed.
As always, her companion seemed to read her mind. “There are rules, Rose. You don’t feed on unwilling victims at an underground fight. I made a claim on you, they ignored it. No one cares if they’re dead. Do you?”
Remembering how painful a vampire bite could be, she shook her head and then let out a slow exhale as she looked back at Fionn and Kiyo. “But you could’ve at least given me a chance to join in.”
Fionn closed his eyes and gave a slow shake of his head, but she saw the slight tremble in his lips. He was trying not to laugh.
Good.
He’d been so serious all day.
Kiyo held out the sword to Fionn. “There’s a big fight in Romania in two months. Bucharest. Only the very strongest are invited. Will I see you there?”
Ooh, Romania. It had been on Rose’s European bucket list but she’d never made it.
The question caused Fionn’s expression to flatten. “No.” He waved off the sword. “Keep it.”
Something like surprise flashed across Kiyo’s face as he held on to the weapon. “Change your mind. I need the challenge.” Then, without a backward glance at either of them, the beautiful Japanese werewolf strode out of the warehouse.
“We should go.”
Rose nodded, handing Fionn his coat. Her mind was no longer on the amazing display of warriorship from her companion and his werewolf buddy. It was on the grimness of Fionn’s expression. He’d gone somewhere hellish and dark in his mind, and she had no idea what had triggered the unsettling change.
20
The fight with Kiyo had burned energy.
Unfortunately, it had not burned his aggression, self-loathing, or frustration.
It might have, had he not felt his heart race mid fight, felt a tingle down his spine and that telling dread in his gut that warned him of danger. Fionn had known instantly that it wasn’t his own danger, and he’d looked out to the crowds to see two fucking vampires hunting Rose as she tried to push swiftly through the baying supes around her.
Kiyo had known to withdraw without a word as Fionn was a blur across the room to put himself between Rose and her pursuers.
His protective instincts weren’t anything noble. It was territorialism. Fionn could lie all he liked and tell himself he wanted nothing to happen to Rose before he got the chance to open the gate. That wasn’t true. They’d already be in Ireland if it were.
This was a different territorialism.
This was something primal and ancient.
Something that terrified him.
Nothing had terrified Fionn in a long time. In centuries.
Until now.
Because even if what he was feeling was what he thought it was, it changed nothing. Rose still had to die for his revenge. If he chose her, she’d only betray him. The death of the Faerie Queen was too important. Fuck fate, if that was what this was.
Sensing his volatility, Rose had remained silent as they found a private place to travel back to the rented apartment. Fionn regretted not asking Bran to make sure they stayed at a hotel. Separate rooms.
They had separate bedrooms here, but it was still a shared space.
“Get some sleep,” he practically snarled before turning to leave the open-plan living area.
Rose appeared in the doorway, blocking his path.
Two could play at that game.
He traveled into his bedroom.
She appeared at the foot of his bed.
Fuck. “Get out, Rose.”
“No.” Her expression was defiant as she crossed her arms over her chest.
Will of fucking steel.
“Rose,” Fionn warned, the tenuous grip he had on his control slipping by the second.
“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong.”
He zeroed in on her luscious little upside-down mouth.
“Is it because I interrupted your fight? Drew attention to myself?”
“No,” he grunted, catching a whiff of her musk in the air.
Fionn had smelled her during his fight.
Knew she was growing aroused watching him.
Don’t do it.
“Is it because I noticed the hotness of Kiyo?”
Don’t do it.
“Because that’s nothing. Just appreciation—”
He sped across the room, lifted her up under her arms, her feet off the floor, and crushed her mouth beneath his.
She kissed him back.
Immediately.
Rose’s lips were hot and searching, a little feminine moan vibrating from her throat.
Her scent enveloped him.
Fuck, he wanted to touch her everywhere—his hands didn’t know which part of her to caress first.
With a gasp of unadulterated need, Rose broke the kiss but only to encircle his waist with her legs, to cling to his shoulders, and in doing so free his hands to move. This time she took his mouth.
Fionn’s rational thinking malfunctioned.
Sliding inside Rose Kelly became the most important thing in the world.
They fell to the bed, Fionn of enough mind to brace one hand on the mattress
to hold his weight off her. His other hand slipped under her shirt, fingers pushing beneath the lacy material of her bra so he could cup her sweet breast in his hand.
She was a perfect handful, her nipple hard against his thumb as he strummed it.
Rose arched beneath him, her soft hands caressing his skin, pushing down into the waistband of his trousers to feel his arse. She undulated beneath him, trying to push into his arousal as their tongues tangled in a wet, deep, uncontrolled kiss that was driving him mad with want.
As he squeezed her perfect breast in one hand, his other slid down her stomach and began unbuttoning her jeans. She arched into him, encouraging him, groaning into his mouth as his fingers slipped beneath her lacy knickers. At the feel of her hot wetness, her clit beneath his thumb, Fionn nearly lost his mind. His kisses ravaged as his thumb circled her while two thick fingers pushed into her tight, slick heat.
Fuck, she felt like heaven.
“Fionn,” Rose moaned his name as she pulled her lips from his. Her hands were now on the buttons of his trousers, fumbling to release him. “Come inside me. I need you. I’ve never needed anyone like I need you.”
The words penetrated the better half of him and with great reluctance, he opened his eyes.
Rose panted beneath him, her shirt askew, her long hair cascading over his pillows, her throbbing heat clutching his fingers.
Small, feminine, strong.
Silk and steel.
She stared up at him with affection … and trust.
That, more than anything, tugged on the last bit of decency within him.
“Fionn?”
With a hard smile of regret, he reluctantly removed his hand from her sweet breast and placed his fingers gently over Rose’s carotid.
Sleep.
Those stunning blue eyes of hers fluttered shut. Her dark lashes weren’t long but there were lots of them. A thick frame around her eyes, now a curtain shielding her from light.
From him.
Her body relaxed into the bed and with a groan of unfulfilled need, Fionn fell to his back beside her. His hand rested at his side, touching Rose’s. Her scent filled his nose, torturing him. Afraid to wake her, he didn’t reach for her, but he felt a stab of something in his chest when he noted how small her hand was compared to his.