Stolen Fate (The Mythean Arcana 4)

CHAPTER FOUR

The sounds in the alley were sending streaks of heat through Fiona. Her desperation to find the book had pushed out all other aspects of life. She hadn’t been doing nearly enough of what they were doing.

And Ian, who was tense as a wire, was in the same boat. He’d been without sex for nearly a century. A century. It almost didn’t sound real. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to imagine what was happening in the alley. What she could be doing.

Her eyes snapped open. That was crazy. She needed to get her mind on the job.

“Ian, we need to—” She snapped her mouth shut when a rustling from the other end of the alley caught her attention. She whipped her head around and peered into the darkness. Ian did the same.

Nothing. The couple at the other end of the alley suddenly quieted. Tension prickled along Fiona’s arms. Was something here with them?

The mortals giggled, then stumbled toward the new noise. Fiona gripped her knife and squinted after them, her skin prickling with awareness.

But the mortals passed unharmed onto the street and went on their way.

Fiona shook away the eerie feeling and followed Ian deeper into the alley. The back door to the museum was made of unmarked steel. The lock at the door, however, was familiar.

“Keep an eye out.” She knelt in front of the door.

“I’ll take care of it.” Ian reached for the little leather pack of tools she’d withdrawn from her coat pocket.

She yanked them away. “I’ve got it. And this is a way newer lock than you’ve ever tried to pick.”

“Natural skill.” The cockiness in his tone made her grit her teeth, but he turned and covered her while she made the lock give up its secrets.

She felt the latch give and stood with a grin. Anticipation sang in her veins. “We’re in.”

Ian turned to her. “Good work, we’ll be—”

A shadow loomed behind Ian, then two arms reached out and picked him up, throwing him into the wall. Fiona stifled a scream as she yanked a knife out of her boot and flung it at the hulking figure. Shadow hid its features, but its bellow was unmistakable. Her knife had found its mark.

She didn’t have time to spare a glance for Ian as she yanked the other knife free of her boot. Before she could throw it, the figure was upon her, knocking the blade from her fist and wrapping meaty hands around her neck.

She gasped and kicked as he hoisted her into the air. She caught sight of an eerie face—snub nose, slitted eyes, and long fangs—and kicked harder. Her throat throbbed and she clawed at the demon’s hands. Black spots danced in front of her eyes. Shite, she was going to pass out. She didn’t know what kind of demon he was, but she’d be dead in seconds if she fell unconscious.

Suddenly, the hands released her and she hit the ground hard, toppling to her arse. At her feet, Ian was wailing on the demon, his fists a blur as he beat her attacker’s face.

Ian plucked the blade from his pocket and raised it.

“Doona!” Fiona reached out for him. “We need to—”

The blade sliced down, straight through the attacker’s neck. Ian put such force behind the cut that he severed the throat to the spine. Another hard hack and the spine was gone too.

She collapsed back onto her butt. “Shite.”

Ian dropped the now-dead demon and knelt at her side. Rage and worry fought in his eyes. “Are you all right?”

She coughed. “Fine, but we needed to find out where he came from!”

Ian scowled. “Bloody bastard was going to snap your neck.”

“I was fine!” She hadn’t been, but she was so peeved she didn’t care.

“Really?” Concern radiated from him despite his glare.

Something twitched in her chest. She had a protector. She’d never had one of those before. It was problematic, considering that they needed to know who the demon worked for, but it was quite nice, really. Annoying. But nice.

“I’m fine.” She glanced at the demon. He’d begun to steam. “Move it, I need a picture.”