Burning Dawn
Page 40

 Gena Showalter

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After selling one of her necklaces, she consumed three meat pies, which were better than anything she’d ever tasted, except Thane, then two chocolate cupcakes and four peanut butter scones—better than even Thane. Maybe.
“Where do you put it?” Bellorie asked, gaze raking over her minimal curves.
“I guess we’ll find out.” She hadn’t eaten like that in...ever.
“By the way. What you’re currently tasting? That’s real food. Whatever you’re making at the club is...not.”
Hey! “I’m getting better.”
“Bonka Donk, you’re getting worse. This morning’s brownies can be used in our next dodge-boulder game.”
Elin sighed. Baking wasn’t as much fun as she remembered. Maybe it was time to reevaluate her life goals.
What madness is this? Bay had dreamed of opening a bakery, and now she was going to kill it the way the Phoenix had killed him? No! She had to do it, in his memory. His honor.
Especially since she had already betrayed him with Thane.
Despair danced at the edge of her mind, but she pulled a Bellorie and gave it the finger. This day would not be spoiled!
With Bellorie at her side, she talked and laughed as she spent the rest of her “go wild” money on a new wardrobe. She bought a couple of pairs of jeans, a pair of leather pants—what?—a dozen pretty tops, a few summer dresses, workout tanks and shorts, lingerie, pajamas, boots, tennis shoes, high heels and a robe.
“Everything will be delivered to the club by the end of the day,” Bellorie had told her earlier.
She had protested. “No, I—” Or rather, she’d tried to protest.
“Can’t carry it, you don’t have the biceps,” the girl had interjected. “And I’m not going to help because I need my pimp-hands free.”
But she hated the thought of letting the prized items out of her sight, even for a few hours. Mine, all mine.
“Come on,” Bellorie said now, tugging her from Vladmir’s Closet. “Axel told me he has a booth today, and I don’t want to miss him.”
“Axel?”
“You met him last night, at Thane’s table. Dark hair, piercing blue eyes.”
Most Beautiful, the male she’d threatened with arsenic. Great.
His booth was at the end of the street, white scarves acting as walls and dancing in a gentle breeze. He offered no clothes, no foods, no jewels or furniture. He sat in the center of the empty stall, leaning back in a chair, his hands folded over his middle, his legs outstretched, his wings spread.
He grinned when he spotted them, his entire face lighting up and, somehow, making him more beautiful. “Well, well. If it isn’t my favorite Harpy and Thane’s favorite human. We weren’t properly introduced, lovely. You’re Elin. I’m Axel. And, don’t worry. I know how this works. I tell you my name, and you say nothing—because you’ve fainted.” He paused for several dramatic seconds, waiting.
She fought the urge to roll her eyes.
His grin grew wider. “So how’d it go last night with Mr. Won’tsharemytoys?”
I am a strong, confident woman and I won’t blush. “What are you selling?” she asked, ignoring his question.
“Blow jobs,” he replied without missing a beat, and she blinked in surprise.
Bellorie didn’t fight her urge—she did roll her eyes. “What he means is, he’s willing to let women suck him off if they pay him with new and exciting weaponry.”
“And there isn’t a line?” Elin asked drily.
Unoffended, he patted his lap. “Take a seat and I’ll show you why I’m offering such an exceptional deal.”
The wicked gleam in his eyes... Yeah, she’d been right to view him as a candidate. He clearly knew his way around a female body. But only one man tempted her to plow full steam ahead, and Axel wasn’t him. “No, thanks.”
He shrugged, not even a little bit disappointed. “Your loss.”
“So, the reason we’re here...” Bellorie prompted. “You wanted information about William the Ever Randy, aka the Panty Melter, and I heard something last night. A Fae came into the bar, said William’s daughter, some girl named White, was murdered in his realm by a Phoenix named Petra.”
Petra. Kendra’s aunt. According to gossip at the bar, the girl was dead. Like, never-coming-back dead. Someone must have eaten her heart—which meant she’d actually had one. Surprise, surprise.
Axel jolted upright, the teasing light extinguished from his eyes. “I knew that. But what else did you hear?”
“William the Panty Melter and his sons, Red, Green and Black, disappeared immediately afterward. William was later seen with the Lords of the Underworld, but the boys haven’t been seen or heard from since.”
Elin had no idea what they were talking about, and strolled to the booth to the left. Her gaze traced over the items for sale—jewelry—only to land on a big, strong Sent One. Merrick, she realized, the lead singer of Shame Spiral. Dark hair shagged around a face that had to be the epitome of beauty. Long, dark lashes shadowed eyes of the most luminous silver.
His only imperfection was the big bruise marring his jaw. He must have been in a fight.
Perfect. He was a brawler. He could be a candidate again, since Thane might have gone from hot-and-cold to permanently cold.
Forgetting the note?
No. Still just majorly confused about it.
Merrick grinned when he spotted her, the slow bloom of welcome unbelievably sexy. “I do remember you,” he said, confusing her. He closed in on her. “You’re the human, and I did not sleep with you.”
“Uh. Correct.” He smelled good. Like, really good. Dark, romantic and spicy, as if he’d just stepped out of Arabian Nights. But for some reason he did nothing for her hormones.
“I never realized Thane was the possessive type.”
“I don’t understand,” she replied, her heart rate increasing at the sound of his name.
Merrick’s grin widened. “He warned me away.”
“From what?”
“You.”
“Me?” She thumped her chest to make sure they were talking about the same “you.”
“I don’t know what gave him the impression I planned to make a move—”
Her moan stopped him. She did. She knew. She’d mentioned Merrick’s name to Thane.