Sorsha shot him a withering look, but I thought he’d said it with a little less animosity than usual. As much as her trick with the pie had infuriated him in the moment, I suspected he’d gained a little more respect for her at the same time.
We’d just passed into the thicker darkness of the barn’s shadow when Thorn, who’d taken the lead, barked a warning and lashed out with one of those rock-hard fists of his. I stiffened, expecting the meaty whack of that fist meeting flesh… but instead there was a soft whoomph and a woody cracking.
We hustled closer and found the lunk standing over his toppled foe: a tatty scarecrow with straw now burst from the split canvas of its head. I couldn’t resist clapping Thorn on the back. The great hero of our time. “Excellent work. Now it won’t hurt anyone else ever again.”
The warrior glowered at me. Omen nudged at the straw with the toe of his boot. “Better overly fast reflexes than not fast enough. Let’s see what our devourer has turned up.”
Snap was still edging along the side of the barn. He moved from there to the sagging wooden fence, his normally cheerful face gone solemn with concentration. Finally, he straightened up and came to join us.
“I caught a trace of a person passing by in a few spots,” he said. “Also, at one time there were younger humans who’d been drinking something with alcohol and were dizzy with it—they were gathering in the barn. I don’t think they had any connection to the Company.”
“Drunken teens? This would be the perfect place to party.” Sorsha glanced around. “They cleaned up after themselves pretty well.”
“We haven’t looked in the barn yet,” I pointed out.
“And it might have been years ago,” Snap added. “I can’t judge the timing all that narrowly. I didn’t pick up anything to do with shadowkind, but if there’ve been other hand-offs here before, the people involved wouldn’t necessarily have touched anything to leave impressions.”
He drooped a little as if he felt he’d failed us by not discovering more. I’d have cracked a joke to perk him up, but Sorsha was already grasping his arm with the warm little smile she seemed to have invented just for him.
“You didn’t pick up any sign of a threat,” she said. “That’s good to know.”
He beamed back at her, his discomfort eased, and while I’d meant it when I’d told her that I was happy to see her take her pleasures wherever she could find them, the sight of them gazing at each other like that started an uncomfortable sensation nibbling at my gut. I wouldn’t call it jealousy—what kind of incubus would I be then?—but it was something. Something I didn’t want to look any more closely at. We had bigger fish to fry here.
Omen was in full admiral mode. He motioned to each of us in turn. “Thorn, watch the road and alert us if you see any vehicles heading this way. Snap, bring the rest of the equipment from the car. I don’t smell any humans around the barn now, so it should be safe. Ruse, you figure out Sorsha’s best vantage point with her. I’m going to check over the grounds farther afield.”
My assignment suited me just fine. I offered Sorsha my elbow with a playful dip of my head. “Miss Blaze, if you would accompany me?”
Her lips twitched with amusement. Even as she rolled her eyes, she accepted my arm. “I think I can figure out my own vantage points, but I won’t say no to having company. Maybe you can turn on that glow of yours so we can see in there.”
She was joking, but Omen cut his gaze toward us anyway. “No special effects, please. We’re trying to keep a low profile.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I can manage to resist the urge to shine up the place.” Besides, it would have felt strange shifting into my full shadowkind form anywhere other than in bed. We shadowkind revealed our true selves so seldom in the mortal realm that our more human guises were what came naturally after a while.
The inside of the barn was dark, though. Once we’d stepped much past the doorway, I could only make out the outlines of the shapes around us—some sort of large metal milk tank here, a row of stalls there. The odor of musty hay wafted around us. Not the most delightful perfume. Sorsha brought her hand to her nose as if stifling a sneeze.
I spotted a couple of squashed beer cans when I wandered close to one wall, but otherwise our mortal was right—the partying teens hadn’t left much trace of their adventures here. Or else someone had come by since the partying and done a quick cleaning job.
A hay loft loomed high above our heads in the larger room, but if there’d been a ladder to access it, it was long gone. Sorsha frowned at it. “I think there’s a window up there—that might be a good place for my stake-out. I just need a way up.”
“We could have Thorn toss you,” I suggested.
She swatted my arm and headed down the aisle beside the stalls. As I followed her, her pace sped up. “Oh, wait. Maybe that’s—”
Whatever she was aiming for, she didn’t make it there. One of the stall doors burst open as something large and heavy slammed into it with a metallic groan.
My supernatural skills might not be in the realm of combat, but I was still plenty quick on my feet. Sexual prowess required a certain nimbleness. The knobby monster of machinery careened toward Sorsha, and I dashed forward. I yanked her out of the way into a nearby stall on the opposite side—almost fast enough.
The mass of steel clipped her wrist, just shy of smashing her hand into the post beside her, and a bone snapped. We careened into the stall together, hitting the wall next to the door.
Sorsha gasped, the sound tight with pain. As she bit her lip, her eyes squeezed shut for a moment. Her left hand hung limp from her injured wrist, which was already swelling.
My pulse lurched. I held her motionless against the wall as another mechanical groan carried along the aisle with a heavy thump. If Omen had been wrong—if there were Company soldiers lurking in here—Thorn would be all the way down at the road by now, and the boss who knew where. I wasn’t equipped for a fight.
Sorsha blinked, her lips parting with a shaky breath, and I caught her gaze. “We have to stay quiet,” I murmured, and then, because it was the only way I could help her stay that way, I brought my mouth to hers.
I couldn’t have imposed any of my supernatural intoxication on her to heighten the sensations while she wore that noxious brooch—and I wouldn’t have regardless, having promised her as much—but I was plenty skilled as a lover without that enhancement. And I knew this woman now in ways I doubted even Snap did.
I swallowed any sounds she might have made and coaxed her tongue to twine with mine, leaning my body close enough to meld against hers, careful of her wrist and her still-bandaged shoulder. Her left arm stayed rigid at her side, but the rest of her melted into my embrace. I hadn’t lost my golden touch yet.
As she kissed me back, her other hand came up to grip the back of my neck. She was throwing herself headlong into my attempt at distracting her from the pain—and damn if her response wasn’t distracting me too. Why had I started this again?
No further noise reached my ears from the rest of the barn. Had the apparent assault really just been a precarious piece of farm machinery tipping over and not some kind of trap?
I didn’t really want to stop this to find out. Sorsha’s body adjusted against mine so pliantly, heat coursing between us. Shadows above and below, I’d never longed for anything more than to throw myself headlong into this burning, even though the tremors of energy that passed from her into me were barely more than a trickle thanks to her brooch.