She was mentally composing an epic chewing-out for at least some of her targets when Conal said, “Well, that didn’t go exactly as I planned, but Siobhan will hear all about it.” He sounded grimly satisfied.
Forgetting her fury, Helena stared at him. “That kiss -- the thing about Siobhan. That was an act?”
“Oh, I meant every word. But it also served a purpose, because Birk is one of Siobhan’s spies. He was kicked out of her court fifty years ago, and he’s been looking for a way back into her good graces ever since.”
Helena stared at him. Judging by the ice in his eyes, he hated Birk, yet there’d been no sign of it in his behavior at all. “I thought you said he was your father’s partner.”
“He was. But backstabbing is an art form with the Sidhe.” Conal’s tone iced. “That one in particular.”
A chill rolled over her. Not so much at Birk’s betrayal -- he was right about Sidhe backstabbing -- as the way Conal had fooled her so completely. “I could have sworn the two of you were good friends.”
“I used to think we were. Birk swore Siobhan would take us in and protect us from Ansgar. Even convinced Dad that her nasty reputation was exaggerated.” His jaw hardened. “It wasn’t.”
“Why do you think Maeve surrounds herself with her menagerie instead of other Sidhe?” Liam put in from his holster. “She got sick of all the backstabbing centuries ago. Kicked every last Fairy right the hell out and started adopting strays. Sort of like a cat lady, but with tigers.”
Essus snorted. “You’d know. You owe your life to Maeve’s tender heart. Cachamwri wanted to kill you and have done with it.”
“Oh, shut up and eat a cracker, Polly.”
“At least I don’t cosplay as an actor. How the mighty have fallen.”
“I’m still a deity,” Liam drawled. “You are a glorified parrot.” As the two started squabbling, Helena forced herself to jettison her shocked reaction and scan the street, looking for would-be attackers, magical and otherwise. Her body was still vibrating from that kiss, sending a flood of Burning Moon pheromones rolling through her bloodstream.
Maybe Liam was right. She was letting herself get too wrapped up in Conal. Like that kiss she’d thought a defiant statement of support for her. Had that really been about playing Birk?
Chapter Six
“I admire your self-control,” Conal said into the thick silence as they drove back toward DCN.
Helena looked over at him -- at that sculpted profile, the thick lashes, the full lower lip. Despite her black mood, her body growled in need until it was all she could do not to dive for that seductive mouth. She put a choke collar on her libido and cranked viciously. It didn’t work, but she at least managed not to sound as desperate as she felt. “In what way?”
He cast her a quick flashing smile before returning his attention to the street ahead of him. You had to keep your eyes on the road in New York. “If Essus heard those two, I know you did. In your shoes, I probably would’ve gotten up and beaten the hell out of both of them, just on general principles.” His expression went hard. “I was tempted to do it myself, but my father…”
She grinned. “Raised you to be a chauvinist.”
His lips twitched. “Or to believe that people who are stronger keep their hands off those who are weaker.”
Helena lifted a brow. “And yet you’re surprised I didn’t kick their asses.”
“Well, it is your Burning Moon,” Liam pointed out.
Essus, riding his perch, fluttered his feathers. “I, however, have no qualms at all about teaching little bitches to keep their mouths shut.” He tilted his fierce yellow gaze up at her.
“I noticed,” Conal said. “Thank you for that, by the way.”
The eagle preened, smoothing his feathers with his beak.
“So where are we headed now?”
He took a right turn down an alley. “Back to headquarters -- and my bed.”
A wave of eager anticipation seared through her, and she cleared her throat. “So that wasn’t just for Siobhan’s consumption?”
He flicked her a look that was almost as fierce as Essus’s. “I meant every word.”
Automatically, she looked down at his lap, and her brows climbed at the way the seatbelt strained. “I hope we don’t have a wreck. It’d be a shame for that to get belt burn.” He laughed, a sound so rich and masculine that it made her body tighten. His scent filled the car, blended with her own arousal. Helena shifted in her seat and cleared her throat. “I don’t suppose you can make this thing go faster.”
“Working on it.” Conal made a quick right onto a side street. “It’s times like this I wish I wasn’t just a Changeling. I’d turn every light green and give everyone a powerful urge to get the hell out of the way.”
“Well, if you’ll take me out of my holster…” Liam suggested brightly.
“Uh, no,” said Helena, who was used to considering all the many ways he could cause mayhem. “We’d end up slamming into a traffic jam at forty miles an hour.”
“I wouldn’t do that. You’re my priestess.”
Essus clicked his beak. “The rest of us, on the other hand, would make a nice snack.”
“Well, I’ve always been partial to chicken.” The bird looked across at Liam’s holster and his yellow eyes began to glow as power whirled around him.
Helena reached out and tried to stroke his head. His feathers felt so hot, she jerked back with a startled hiss, shaking singed fingers. Eyeing them, she was relieved not to see blisters. “Jesus, Essus!”
“Watch it, Polly,” Liam snapped.
“Sorry,” the eagle said, not sounding sorry in the least.
“Do I have to pull over?” Conal growled, the sound so ragged with frustration everyone else in the car immediately shut up. Even the gun god, who’d been known to smart off to Maeve. In the silence filled by the rumble of the car, Conal shot Helena an apologetic grimace. “Sorry about that. I’m feeling a little… tense.”
“I can see that,” Helena said. It emerged a bit throatier than she’d intended.
* * *
The minute the elevator doors opened, Essus launched himself off Conal’s shoulder and soared away to his perch in his curtained alcove. Helena, almost vibrating from being in an enclosed space breathing Conal’s scent, grabbed a fistful of his shirt and hauled him in for a kiss.
With a low growl, he fell against her, one hand landing on her ass, the other tangling in her curls. Their mouths met, mashed, tongue swirling in hungry lust. As if from a great distance she heard Liam say, sounding amused, “I’ll… Keep an eye out for gating werewolves.” With that, he fell blessedly silent. She might have felt more grateful, but her entire universe had narrowed to Conal’s hand as it slid beneath her short top to close over her breast through her bra.
Her own hand sank into his hair, gathering a fistful of cool black silk. The other gripped his shirt, twisting the soft fabric, tightening. Something ripped, and she felt the prick of her own claws against her palms as the shirt ripped away from his broad chest.