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Because...just because! After weeks of traveling outside of Amaranthia--weeks away from Gillian and days in Budapest--he'd made no progress unearthing William's location.
How much time had passed for Gillian, Cameron and Winter? And Sin, who continued to rule the Connachts unchallenged? About three hundred years would be his guess.
Had Gillian forgiven Puck for breaking her wee finger?
The memory of his actions sickened him. How could he have done such a thing?
Despite the few weeks--for him--their bond had strengthened as if they'd been together for centuries. Which they had, according to her timetable. He felt as if he'd known her forever. As if he'd missed her forever. As if he'd craved her forever.
He wanted her back. Now.
How had Gillian changed? What was she like? Still sweet...or hardened? What trials had she faced without his aid and protection?
Raw instinct burned inside him, birthing a need to commit violence against anyone who had harmed her.
During the first few hours outside of Amaranthia, many years had passed for Gillian. During that time, she had suffered terrible injuries. He knew, because he'd suffered the injuries with her. One second he'd been fine, the next multiple bones had snapped for no apparent reason. Bruises had formed and vanished. Twice his hands had fallen off his wrists. Talk about awkward. Once, he'd lost a foot. However, between one heartbeat and the next, his body had grown new appendages.
What had happened to her? Why hadn't Cameron or Winter saved her from pain?
Along with the biggies, he also worried about the small things. Had Gillian gotten enough rest? Had she eaten properly? Did she laugh anymore? Had the kindling been wiped from her eyes? Or had she finally caught fire and burned?
Rage rose up strong, a battering ram to his calm. Why had he not made a clean break with her, with no promises lingering between them? Why had he insisted on a new deal? Why had he kissed her?
The woman had him twisted up, that kiss playing on constant repeat inside his head. The taste of her as decadent as her scent, all poppiberries and seduction. The feel of her, all softness and heat.
Did she hate him still, or had the kiss won her over?
Guilt pricked him. Of course she still hated him. He'd tricked, tortured, abandoned and lied to her.
One side of him said: Will make it up to her as soon as I return.
The other replied: Oh, really? I'll make it up to her, with William at my side?
Every muscle in Puck's body knotted, the rage gaining new ground. The thought of Gillian and William together again...
I think I'd rather pardon Sin for his crime against me.
Common sense balked. Would you? Because that is your only other option. Allowing your treacherous brother to destroy your clan, and your realm.
SNARL.
Inhale, exhale. Puck scoured a hand down his face. You are nothing but a nuisance, fiend.
And Puck had better things to do than listen to a tantrum. Or debate the wisdom of his plan. A short while ago, he'd uncovered a lead to William's whereabouts.
Rumors stated the male had been spending quality time in downtown Oklahoma City. Gossip meant to send Puck straight into an ambush? Possibly. Going to stop him? No.
He stole a cell phone and, just as Cameron and Winter had taught him, posted an ad on Immortal Wanted, a site on the dark dark web.
Needed: one flash from Budapest to Oklahoma City.
Payment: Amaranthian gold.
He added his exact coordinates and waited.
Posting the ad cost just as much as the ride itself, but the benefits far outweighed the expense. If someone accepted a job and harmed the person who'd hired him, that someone would be hunted down and executed by the site's owner--Rathbone the Only, one of nine kings of the underworld.
Puck had never met Rathbone, but had only ever heard others speak of him in hushed tones.
On the opposite end of the spectrum, if someone posted a job and harmed the person he'd hired, or even failed to pay, that someone would be hunted down and executed.
Only minutes later, his ride appeared. A tall, muscular male with long black hair, eyes like diamonds and skin as dark and red as blood. Power radiated from him. He was shirtless, his bottom half covered by black leather pants. From the neck down, he had hundreds of tattoos, every image the same. A closed eye.
"You the one looking for a ride?" the newcomer asked. He had a deep, raspy voice.
"I am."
Those diamond eyes glittered with wicked amusement as he held out a hand. "I'm nothing if not cooperative...when I'm not killing in cold blood."
A threat? Good luck with that.
Puck placed a gold coin in the center of the male's palm, expecting the male to wrap an arm around him; most immortals needed to touch the one they transported. Not this one. Budapest vanished, an abandoned alleyway, with multiple Dumpsters, taking its place.
The other man was gone.
A small cat with matted fur and scars approached Puck and twined between his feet, rubbing against his legs.
"Nice doing business with you," he muttered.
Intense heat enveloped him, the air humid, oppressive. Sweat beaded on his skin as he checked his weapons, just in case his escort had decided to disappear with them. Two daggers, two semiautomatics. Excellent.
Remaining in the shadows, Puck studied the milieu. Old buildings with red brick interspersed with the occasional brownstone. Multiple alleyways branching off the one he'd been transported to. A few pedestrians meandering along the sidewalks.
Left with no other recourse, Puck stalked forward, revealing his presence to the humans. Something he'd never done in the past--without killing everyone who'd spotted him. Today, there was no reason to hide his identity and every reason to reveal it.
People stared. Some even whipped out their phones to take his picture. No one screamed, or ran away. Interesting. Perhaps they assumed he played dress up?
Let word of his presence spread. Let William come to him.
A sudden crackle of energy charged the air, stopping him. A split second later, the entire sky blackened, as if the sun had flashed to another realm. Humans gasped and shouted for help, only to be drowned out as anguished cries spilled from the sky: wails of pain and grief.
What the hell?
Before he had a chance to reason out what had happened, the sun shone from a baby blue sky once again. The chorus quieted, even as fearful humans hurried from the area.
The answer came to Puck in an instant, as he'd witnessed this type of event before. Sent Ones--winged demon assassins--lived in the third level of the heavens, the level closest to the human realm. One of their leaders had died.
Not my problem.
Focus. Puck entered the first hotel he encountered, leaving his cat-shadow outside. He would hole up in a room, and wait for William's arrival.
Would the male show up?
The employees gave Puck twice-overs, and guests gave him the side-eye, but no one asked any questions. After acquiring a key, he dismissed the bellhop and took the stairs, stopping on every floor to ensure no exits were blocked.
In his room, he found a king-size bed with a white comforter, a desk, dresser, television and coffee table. He moved everything to a single corner and--
Boom!
Hinges on the front door shattered. Wood split. In the center of the chaos stood William of the Dark. At his feet, the cat--the smiling cat. Had the feline led William to Puck? Possibly. Even probably. How else would William have arrived so quickly?
Puck did a quick visual survey. William held a small gold torc but had no discernible weapons. Of course, if he was anything like Puck, his body was weapon enough.
Silence stretched between them as they took each other's measure. During their last meeting, William had sported red eyes. Not so today. The blue had returned.
Did eye color matter to Gillian? Did she prefer--
Fool! Her preferences had no bearing on the situation.
"You m
ay go," William said.
"Go?" Puck popped his knuckles. "Why would I--"
"Not you."
The cat began to grow, and grow. Shapeshifter, Puck realized. Fur disappeared, replaced by red skin, revealing the immortal who'd flashed him to Oklahoma.
Red took a bow. "My pleasure doing business with you, Puck. And you as well, William. Though I'd love to stay and witness the carnage that comes next, I'm needed in the heavens. Where there's turmoil, there's me." He tipped an invisible hat before flashing away.
Turmoil in the heavens. Knew it. "The Sent Ones," Puck said. "Something happened."
"You shouldn't concern yourself with them. Only yourself." William spoke at a normal volume, but menace laced every word. "Tell me where Gillian is, or I'll turn your testicles into tiny disco balls."
