CHAPTER ONE
“Creed Calder, as I live and breathe!”
Creed closed his eyes, barely suppressing a groan.
The click-click-click of stilettos and the swish of ample hips in a form-fitting skirt struck him seconds before the intoxicating scent of her perfume.
Left with no choice, he acknowledged her.
“Narissa.” His cool, dismissive tone spoke for him, saying he wasn’t pleased to see her.
Her over-bright smile remained fixed, but the laughter in her aquamarine eyes faded. Maybe it was the early evening sky, maybe not, but the light was gone, and they didn’t sparkle the way they once had.
He resumed walking and damned his luck when she fell into step beside him.
“I didn’t think we’d see you around here again, sugar.” From the Deep South, her “sugar” sounded more like “shoog-ha.” Her accent had never failed to make him smile—in the past.
“Why?”
Her step faltered before she caught herself. Anyone else would’ve bolted under his contemptuous look, but not her. He appreciated the hell out of her fortitude.
“Well, considering,” she said, with a vague wave of her hand, brushing off the gossip.
Creed appreciated her easy dismissal, too. Not that he’d ever tell her.
He stopped. “What do you want, Narissa?”
“Just to say hi.”
“Hi.” He turned away.
“So it’s going to be like that,” she said, so softly he almost missed it over his pounding pulse.
But he was always attuned to everything Narissa Sullivan said or did. Today was no different.
Anger coiled in his gut.
“Like what?” His harsh demand sent her back a step. “Like I don’t want to wring your neck? Like we didn’t fuck each other every way from Sunday? Like I don’t remember every bare inch of your body?”
He leaned in, ignoring how delicious she smelled, and pressed his lips to her ear. “What you tasted like? How silky your skin felt? Like I don’t know the way you screamed my name when you came on my face?”
She sucked in a breath and held it.
Straightening up, he met her vulnerable gaze, prepared to deliver the cherry on his rage sundae.
“Or like you didn’t report me then ghost me when the shit went down?” he growled, low and lethal.
The tears shimmering in her wounded eyes made him feel like a fucking asshole. But the fault lay with her. He’d been fired, ostracized, and labeled an enemy of the Authority. All because of a bogus charge she’d filed. On the run, Creed had been half a bottle of booze away from ending it. But Damian Dethridge, of all people, had been the one to find and give him a new purpose.
Maybe she’d done what she thought was right. Maybe she really believed he was dirty. But abandoning him while he burned for it? Yeah, that one stung.
The silence stretched uncomfortably long.
Narissa lifted her chin and forced a smile. “I thought we were seeing our way clear of that.”
He raised a brow but said nothing.
“Sorry I bothered you, Caldwell.”
As she hurried away, the desire to chase and reclaim her burned within him. He let her go. Same as three years ago, and again after she nearly died at her aunt’s hand.
It didn’t matter if he’d loved Narissa in the past, or that he likely still did.
She’d betrayed him.
Abandoned him when he’d needed her most.
And that, he couldn’t forgive.
“A little harsh, weren’t you?”
Creed glanced behind him.
Jordan Brothers, arms crossed, sported a severe expression on his boyish face. But Jordan didn’t do severe. He was the golden-boy Healer, wanting everyone to be happy, healthy, and well-adjusted.
“Fuck off, Jordie.”
“You’d only been together four months when you were convicted, Creed. She had a career to think about, and she—”
“And she certainly did, didn’t she?” he retorted roughly.
“If that’s what you choose to believe.” Jordan shrugged, disappointment etched on his face. “I’ve come to tell you that the Aether has called a briefing.”
Creed’s stomach dropped.
Damian was the power balance between good and evil. He had the ability to give magic, but mostly he was responsible for extracting it from undeserving witches or warlocks, as he and the deities saw fit. He liked the guy—mostly—but every time the man called, life got ten times more difficult.
“Did he say why?”
“No. I just happened to be there when a call came in. Told them I’d tell you.”
“Do me a favor and pretend you didn’t find me,” Creed said.
“Not gonna happen, man. I need this gig.”
Return to The Siren
