Thief (Rebel Heart Book 5), page 1
THIEF
REBEL HEART BOOK FIVE
TRINA M. LEE
THIEF
Copyright 2018 by Trina M. Lee
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.
Editor
B. Leigh Hogan
Cover Artist
Covers by Christian
Published by
Trina M. Lee
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Epilogue
CHAPTER ONE
“I’m impressed. Arrow’s head hasn’t exploded yet.” Shoving a tequila shot into my hand, Jett stared at the swell of fans clustered around the guys of Molly’s Chamber. They stood near the stage chatting up their fellow rockers, signing the occasional merch item and fending off more than a few feminine advances.
The Spirit Room was especially rowdy tonight. Molly’s Chamber was celebrating. Our record label had upgraded their agreement from an EP to a full-length album. The first single had come out strong thanks to local and social media support. It had landed on both the iTunes and Billboard rock charts. With the summer festival tour right around the corner, it couldn’t have happened at a better time.
I was happy for them. And nervous for us. Our new single dropped next month.
“They deserve this though. The tour will be a game changer for all of us.” I waited for Jett to hold up her glass before we downed our shots simultaneously. Watching Arrow fend off yet another blatantly obvious come on, I laughed. “Looks like it’s hard work being the frontman.”
Nobody dared to hit on Sam. They all knew he was with Jett, and she wasn’t someone most people wanted to mess with. Couldn’t help but be curious as to how that would play out on tour. New cities, new people.
“You and I both know Arrow is going home with you at the end of the night, but don’t you want all of them to know it too?” Jett nodded toward the groupie girls surrounding Arrow. “You’ve been sleeping together for two months. Don’t you think it’s time to go public?”
In the grand scheme of things, two months wasn’t a lot of time. Even though we tried to keep things quiet, there were rumors about us. Although that had started before anything between us had.
Certainly something had developed between Arrow and I, but we had chosen not to define it. No labels. Not right now. Neither of us wanted that kind of pressure. More importantly, being together could be dangerous. We’d been warned by both angels and demons. Currently only Jett and Sam, her boyfriend and Arrow’s guitarist, knew about us. Both were sworn to secrecy.
“Going public might draw the wrong kind of attention. And I don’t think either of us is ready to make anything official anyway.” Sipping a raspberry vodka, I followed Jett through the sea of leather-clad bodies.
“Because of Rowen?” she asked, leaning in close to avoid shouting.
“Partly. I don’t want to hurt him, although I’m starting to think that’s unlikely.”
Rowen might have suspected that Arrow and I had something going on. He knew something had developed between us, but he’d never asked. Not since the night he told me upstairs in the dressing room that his feelings for me hadn’t changed. Rowen had changed since then though. He partied a little harder, drank a little more than usual, and slept with a lot more women. Not that it was any of my business. Not anymore.
Getting over Rowen was one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do. I never meant to fall for Arrow. He was there when I needed him. It just happened. Which had a lot to do with why I was reluctant to tamper with what we had going. Why mess with it?
It shouldn’t have bothered me that, as we spoke, Rowen had his arm slung around a cute brunette, his hot-pink mohawk falling in his eyes. Still, feelings like what I had for Rowen, they never die. You just learn to live with them when shit doesn’t work out.
Jett laughed a lock of purple hair out of her face. “Oh please. That doesn’t mean anything. He’s a guy. He wants to get laid. That doesn’t mean he’s over you. If he was, his heart wouldn’t race when he looks at you.”
“Stop.” I held up a hand before she could torture me further. “I don’t want to know.”
“Sorry.” Jett scrunched up her nose. With a chuckle she gave me a squeeze, squishing her cheek up against mine. “Both brothers are head over heels for you, Spike. Do you know how many of these chicks would trade places with you in a heartbeat?”
We reached the table where Tash and Rubi sat, drinking and laughing with a few friends. It would be a night of laughs, drinks, and kickass music. With a nice buzz going on, I plopped down at the table with my friends to shoot the shit.
Because I couldn’t not look, my gaze naturally strayed back to Arrow. Long black hair slightly teased up in the 80s hair-metal style, a bandana tied around his forehead, he wore ass hugging leather pants and a Pretty Reckless t-shirt. A studded belt hung low on his hips.
With the vodka warming my blood, I chewed lightly on my bottom lip. Son of a bitch he was hot.
Feeling my gaze, he glanced my way. A slow grin spread across his face, not the one he used to charm his audience but a genuine smile just for me. He winked before turning back to the radio DJ asking him questions.
It sucked that I couldn’t just walk over and be near him the way I wanted. Every touch, every look was done with care when in public. At times it could be fun, a little exciting. And other times, it became frustrating. Bordering on torment.
“Don’t tell me you don’t carry a mini vibrator in your purse. Doesn’t everyone?” The discussion at the table took a turn as Jett searched through Rubi’s purse for lip balm.
“No, dude. I only have a big one, and it lives in my nightstand beside my bed.” Rubi laughed around a sip of whiskey.
The usually squeaky-clean Tash giggled and held up a hand. “I have a mini in my bag. Never leave home without it.”
“Right?” Jett raised her glass in cheers. “A woman’s gotta be prepared.”
I laughed and rolled my eyes, offering nothing to this debate. A prickle on the back of my neck struck me as odd. Something felt off. Slow and careful, I casually surveyed the room. Rock n’ rollers as far as the eye could see. Not a demon in sight. Not even Koda, my own personal demon who had an unhealthy obsession with me.
The unmistakable sensation of being watched had me sitting up straighter, frowning over my drink as I sipped it, eyeing anyone I didn’t know personally extra hard. Jett continued to discuss her extensive vibrator collection, seemingly not feeling what I felt.
After a moment the sensation passed. A quick study of Arrow and Rowen, and I was sure they hadn’t felt anything. What the hell?
Shrugging it off, I returned my attention to the stage where sound check took place. Molly’s Chamber was playing their first show here after several weeks, and I planned to enjoy every possible second of shameless ogling time. Like Crimson Sin, they’d been swamped with tour prep and promo while also booking gigs in neighboring cities. Branching out.
Winter had melted into spring, and with it came a flurry of frenzied activity. With summer would come the tour and the many possibilities it held for our futures. All of it dizzying and surreal, I wouldn’t have traded a second of it. Being able to share it with Rowen and Arrow made it all that much sweeter.
The conversation had switched to tattoo talk as Rubi showed off new ink on her forearm. A set of drumsticks crossed like an X, the long stem of a rose woven among them.
“Your artist is good.” I whistled, impressed with the detail put into the piece. The growl of an electric guitar cut through the cacophony of voices. Sam busted out a small solo, using his sound check to elicit a drunken shout from a group gathered near the stage. “And on that note, I’m going pee. Order me another drink, would you, Jett?”
She nodded absently, but her dark eyes were locked on her boyfriend. I left with a smirk. Never thought I’d see the day when Jett looked that way at any man. Bleached blond, tattooed, and the sweetness to balance out Jett’s sour, Sam had proven himself capable of keeping up with her. I think it surprised her more than anyone else.
I weaved through the wave of traffic headed toward the stage, narrowly avoiding being trampled. Pushing open the door to the ladies’ room, I gasped when arms slipped around me from behind.
Arrow’s low, seductive voice murmured in my ear. “I need to touch you.”
Leaning on the closed door, he pulled me against him. His lips found mine in a torturous claiming that made the secrecy of our relationship that much harder to bear. Although carrying on like this was no way to keep a secret.
“You shouldn’t be in here.” I spoke in low hushed tones, aware of ears just outside the door. One hand splayed on his chest, I touched his face with the other, kissing him again.
Sliding both hands into my long, loose hair, Arrow explored my mouth. His tongue delved between my lips. Butterflies took flight in my stomach, creating a ripple of excited waves. The rich, masculine scent of his cologne slapped me right in the libido, making me want more of him.
“It’s cool. Nobody cares.” Arrow kissed his way over my jaw and beneath my chin. “It kills me to look at you all night without being able to touch you. I hate this sneaking around shit.”
“Me too. But it’s safer this way.” I sighed when he gripped my ass and pulled me harder against him.
“Safer for who?” He sucked at my neck, sending a jolt of desire down my spine. “Us? Rowen? I don’t want to have to hide you, Spike. You’re the kind of woman who should be shown off to the world.”
I pulled back to meet his gaze. Heavy smudged liner made his hazel eyes pop. The perfect blend of green and golden brown, greener around the pupil. His eyes were a specific shade I’d never seen on anyone else.
Mischief lurked in those eyes. And something else. Sincerity. It stole my breath.
“I’m still not used to hearing you say things like that.” I laughed, feeling both desired and awkward. “Careful, Arrow. That may all change when we go on tour. There’s a whole world of parties and groupies out there.”
“Fuck the groupies. I’ve played that scene in this city. I doubt it’s much different anywhere else.” He kissed me again, a hot melding of our mouths that made my knees weak. “Get used to hearing it. I want you.”
I still wasn’t sure exactly when or how things had changed between Arrow and me. It hadn’t happened all at once, but gradually. A slow burn that I didn’t notice until it was scorching hot.
And it scared the crap out of this self-professed commitment phobe. I had trust issues. My breakup with Rowen had left me burned and more than a little wary.
Arrow found the spot between my ribs that made me come undone and tickled me until my laughter rang through the washroom. “Cut it out,” I begged, squirming in the tight space. “If you make me fall in the toilet, I’m gonna be ticked.”
He turned that grin on me, the one that twisted me up inside. “Just needed to hear that laugh. I better go. See you out there, angel girl.”
“Knock ’em dead, gorgeous,” I purred, dragging him in for one more kiss.
He slipped from the stall and out of the ladies’ room. The girls at the mirror giggled and whispered to one another. When I emerged a minute later, they were gone.
I paused to smooth down a few flyaway hairs. Thanks to a quality brand, my red lipstick remained perfectly in place. In butt-hugging black jeans and an Asking Alexandria tank top, along with an array of leather and spiked bracelets, I felt good. Ready to spend the night having my world rocked.
From beyond the door came the familiar strains of Rowen’s bass guitar. Inwardly I groaned, turning away from the mirror before I could see my reflection wince.
As soon as I exited the restroom, I again got hit with that strange sense of being watched. Ok, now I knew I wasn’t imagining it. Many a demon had watched me from afar, creeping around while trying to get a feel for me. This didn’t feel like that. It felt unidentifiable.
Slowly I made my way back toward the table my friends occupied. If someone was watching me, I didn’t want them to know I’d caught on. So when an acquaintance stopped me to exchange drunken pleasantries, I went with it, engaging fully in the conversation we shouted over the music.
Molly’s Chamber dominated the stage. The crash of drums accompanied the scream of the guitar, holding their audience captive. Me included.
Constantly aware of the hidden eyes upon me, I watched the guys play while staying aware of everything going on in my vicinity. It wasn’t easy. Not with the panty-melting heat pouring off the stage.
I allowed myself a moment to drink them in: Rowen Cruz and Arrow Lynch. Best friends. Brothers. Both of whom I knew intimately.
I couldn’t help the memories that looking at them summoned. My feelings for both brothers were a complicated mess of various strands that I could never seem to fully untangle. Kind of like a snarled earbud cord.
Rowen, his firm arm muscles flexing as his fingers moved over the bass strings. Jaw taut, his pretty amber gaze drifted over the eager crowd. Headbanging to the beat, he owned his place on that stage. Now my past and in some ways my present. Watching him was always magic.
“I want to see hands in the air,” Arrow shouted at the crowd. “And there better be drinks in them.”
A raucous cry came in response from an audience already well on their way to Hangover City. Shoving a hand into his hair, Arrow turned to Sam. The two shared a look. The guitar came in heavy, and Arrow growled into the microphone before launching into the verse.
The crowd always responded well to Arrow. Even the people who didn’t like him ended up throwing their hands in the air, heads moving to the music.
He wore his darkness well. It came out in his every move. Every expression that snaked across his face, every vocal sang or screamed out. It was so much a part of him.
The brothers were at their best together, when performing or having each other’s back in a fight. Despite how often they pissed one another off, their bond proved strong. Even after Rowen found out that Arrow and I had kissed.
But he didn’t know we’d slept together. Or that it had grown into something more. Something we’d chosen not to define.
We were bound by the parentage we shared, the rarity we were, the three of us. I didn’t want anything to ruin that. There were enough odds stacked against us. We belonged to the world of angels and demons as surely as we belonged to the human world. Life wouldn’t be easy. The nephilim lifespan was notoriously short, and I didn’t have to wonder why.
Someone jostled me from behind as they shoved through. That kind of thing was expected at a rock show, but the force knocked me forward. It had been hard and intentional.
The guy responsible continued into the throng. Then he paused to cast a glance back at me. Black eyes met mine. Demon. So here was my watcher.
Every now and then a demon got it into their head that they wanted to test me. See if all they’d heard about me was legit. Word had spread that I was a thief, although I preferred replicant, and Keeper of the Midnight Star. An angelic sword, which I used to kick demon ass. That had attracted unwanted attention. For the most part it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. Once I kicked the ass of a bottom feeder, they didn’t usually bother me again.
I raised a brow in silent inquiry. Was this guy looking for a fight?
He nodded. Just once. With a finger bent in invitation, he taunted me. Then he turned and kept moving.
Kicking his ass probably wouldn’t take that long. I’d left the Midnight Star upstairs in the dressing room, locked in a guitar case. Should I grab it? Crap, he was moving faster now, losing himself in the crowd. Although I found comfort in the Midnight Star, I’d learned not to rely on it over my own inborn skills. Cinder had trained me to use it, but he’d also trained me not to.
Wading through the thickening mass, I followed. He wanted me to. It was a game. Demons loved games. Me, not so much. I found him near the back door that led into the small staff parking lot behind the building.
He waited for me. Shaggy ash-blond hair fell into his eyes. A long jacket hung to his knees. It had a warrior cut to it. I’d seen Nova wear similar garb. Didn’t usually see that look on a black-eyed bottom feeder.
For a moment I faltered. Standing on my toes to peer over heads, I searched for Jett. Still at our table, drinking up a storm. Not helpful. The guys were on stage. I was on my own here. But it was just one bottom feeder. I’d done this before.
