"I don't want to leave. I just want to . . . I want to do more." My stomach dipped, and I suddenly wished I hadn't said so much.
Ren stopped walking, and our hands collided on the fence.
I started to pull my hand back, but held my ground in front of him. "I know it's strange, but yeah, that's what I'm doing."
His eyes searched mine. "No. It's not weird. It's just different."
Our gazes held for a moment, then I looked away, chewing on my lower lip. When I looked back, he was still looking at me in that way—like he couldn't see through me, but inside me. "What?" I demanded.
"I was just thinking something." His finger had found its way onto mine. I looked at our hands, my breath catching as he drew his finger along my own. "I don't think I've met anyone like you."
"Sounds like a bad thing." I dragged my gaze from our hands.
He smiled. "It's a good thing. I think."
That wasn't entirely a ringing endorsement.
Slipping his hand away from mine, he started walking again, but this time he was going forward, toward the way we came. "Come on. We have work to do."
"Isn't that what we're doing?"
He glanced over his shoulder at me. "What I'm looking for isn't here."
"Oh, is that so?" I caught up to his long-legged pace. "Where are we going?"
"Down here."
My brows rose. "Pirates Alley?"
Ren simply winked at me and kept walking. Having no idea what he was up to, I followed him beyond the entrance of the alley. We weren't heading in there, which was a shame, because the alley was pretty with all its colorful buildings and doors.
He ended up on Madison Street, and I resisted the urge to point out that we could've just gone there instead of heading to the Square, but then again, our job pretty much required us roaming up and down the same streets all night.
Ren walked up to some street kid standing next to a motorcycle. I didn't know what model it was, but it was sleek, black, and looked fast enough to break every single bone if you crashed while on it.
"Thanks, man." Ren handed the kid a wad of cash.
I stared at him as the boy scampered off. "The bike . . . it's yours?"
He nodded.
"What is that?" I stared at the bike like it was a giant two-legged insect.
"Some call it a Ducati." Picking up two helmets, he arched a daring brow at me. "I came prepared tonight. One for me." He raised a helmet. "One for you."
I shot him a dirty look. "And you expect me to get on that?"
"Yes." He handed over a black helmet, and I held it like it was a grenade, away from my body. "Look, like I said, I've got a job to do that doesn't involve tracking down normal fae. I'm here to figure out what the ancients are up to and stop whatever it is that they want. You can come with me or not. I'd prefer that you did." He tilted his head to the side, and the late evening sun glanced off his smooth cheek. "If you're close, then at least I know you're not lying dead somewhere."
My grip on the helmet tightened. "I can take care of myself."
"I didn't say that you couldn't, but even though I've only known you for a short time, I know you're not going to run from a fight. You're going to run to it." The playful half smile appeared as he tossed one long leg over the bike and sat. "And that's incredibly hot, but also incredibly dangerous right now." And you're supposed to be shadowing me, at least until Wednesday. So shadow me on my bike. It'll be fun."
As I stared at him, I wanted to demand that he stop being so damn good looking and charming. It was hard to argue with his logic when he laid it out there with a sexy grin and pretty words.
"Are you coming or not?"
Sighing, I glanced at the helmet then back to him. A slow smile spread across his lips. "Fine."
His eyes deepened to a forest green. "Then get on."
I bristled at his commanding tone, switching the helmet to one arm and flipping him off with my free hand.
Ren laughed, the skin crinkling around his eyes.
"I don't like you," I said.
He grinned as he cocked his head back, eyeing me knowingly. "Don't lie. I know better. You might not want to, but you like me."
Hiding the fact that he'd been unerringly observant, I smirked at him. "You are grossly mistaken."
"Uh-huh." Thick lashes lowered, shielding his eyes, and then his arm shot out. He hooked his fingers through the loop in my jeans and tugged me forward. Balancing the bike with just his legs, he reached up with his other arm and curled his fingers around the nape of my neck.
My breath caught as my eyes widened. I almost dropped the helmet as he guided my head to his. Too shocked to resist, I found myself staring into his eyes, our mouths so close I could feel his warm breath dancing over my lips. He didn't take his eyes off mine as he shifted his head. His lips brushed the curve of my cheek, and my pulse thundered with excitement and dismay. I didn't want him to kiss me. Or did I? His breath tickled the spot just below my ear, and the muscles low in my stomach clenched. I shivered. Okay, maybe I did want him to kiss me.
Ren's lips swept over the line of my cheek and his nose brushed mine. "I bet you have the softest pair of lips out there. And I bet you taste sweet—sweeter than one of those beignets you've got me addicted to." His hand squeezed around the back of my neck. "But you got one hell of a bite—a kick to that sweetness. It'll be rough getting in there, and you're going to fight it every step of the way, but it'll be smooth once I'm there."