Tempting Ballad Page 5

  Renn slid onto his feet, the haze swarming his mind to the point coherent thought escaped him. His cock hung heavy between his legs, painfully erect with morning wood and a reminder of where they’d been heading last night before their rude interruption. He’d taken one step in Kincaid’s direction before the man thrust a mug of coffee in his direction.

  Renn latched onto it, the heat scorching his palms.

  “I don’t know how you take your coffee, but the fixings are on the table over there,” Kincaid said, tilting his head toward the dresser where a tray of croissants, orange juice, and coffee sat waiting for them.

  “Fuck, so this is how the other half lives,” Renn muttered, bringing the cup to his lips. “I’m used to fighting over what’s left in the carafe in our RV.”

  Kincaid’s deep rumble of a laugh echoed through the room.

  He’d drink the coffee black enough to scorch him into awareness. Maybe it’d scorch him into forgetting the heavy thump in his chest at the mention of the band. Hours from now, Ky, Trev, and Jett would be waking up and wondering where their drummer had disappeared to. Liz would probably be having heart palpitations.

  Leo’s golden gaze scoured over him. “As much as I’m adoring the view, you’ll need to be suitably dressed for the meeting,” he commented.

  Renn snorted and placed the coffee on the counter. “By suitably, I hope you mean jeans and a t-shirt, because that’s all I brought.”

  Kincaid arched an eyebrow. “It’s a step above buck naked.”

  “Shove your judgment, asshole,” Renn muttered, unzipping his duffel bag and tugging out a clean pair of jeans and one of his black band tees. “If you wanted some puffed up suit, you shouldn’t have come looking for me.” He tugged his jeans on and flicked the button closed before shrugging into the faded band t-shirt. When he glanced up, Kincaid stood in front of him.

  Kincaid’s finger slipped under his chin to tip his gaze up. “No judgement. You’re the one doing me a favor. And believe me, I’m not interested in having you any other way than as you are.”

  Damn the man. The voice came out like a caress, and the intent look from him was so mesmerizing that Renn almost forgot his reflex to bolt at the slightest hint of anything resembling intimacy. Sleeping side by side with him last night had been far more than he’d intended or allowed with anyone in the past. Yet, when Leo Kincaid strolled into a room, every rule in his book seemed to suddenly disappear from his mind.

  Renn leaned in against him so their chests pressed together, and Kincaid’s palm glided down his neck, his shoulder, his waist.

  “Come on, finish your coffee,” Kincaid murmured, his lips a mere inch away. “We’ve got a meeting to attend.”

  “Did you leap out of the womb this serious, Batman?” Renn retorted, even as he separated to grab his coffee. He needed to clear his head anyway, because being around Kincaid made him want things he shouldn’t.

  “Brooding’s a required family trait,” Kincaid responded, stepping over to the mirror as he swept a comb through those thick black strands. “Ask Marisa. She excels at it.”

  Renn slipped his wallet into his pocket and his pipes in the other. He hadn’t seen the Ashewarrens in years, but he didn’t trust his brethren worth a damn, one trait he and Kincaid both shared. His veins buzzed—from his in-the-night departure from the band, from this potent sexual tension waiting to be tapped, and from the big one—the secret hope there might be some, any, lead on his sister.

  “Lucky for you, the whole mysterious, broody renegade thing does it for me,” Renn drawled, trying to ignore the itch under his skin. Whenever he veered too close to a course collision with his emotions this happened.

  Spend too long there, and the memories would come flooding back.

  The games of hide in the labyrinth he and Belle played in the Otherworld.

  The aching silence of her empty room every time he passed it in the hall.

  The pinched lips and vacant expressions every time he brought her up to family or friend.

  “Funny that, because the flippant drummer with a tragic past gets me going every time,” Kincaid said, picking up his briefcase and beginning to head for the door.

  Renn almost stumbled he surged up so fast to follow. He needed to get out of here, had to move, before those encroaching memories caught up and tugged him under. “Who says my past is tragic?” he muttered as he reached the door.

  Kincaid arched an eyebrow and delivered the intense stare he should have patented at this point. “Your avoidance does.” With that, the broody rebel bastard swung the door open and stepped through. “Time to go to tea.”

  Chapter Six

  Tea was one of those upper Court rituals Leo found utterly exhausting. Truth be told, he wanted to burn all of those traditions down, but first, he needed to play the game.

  Comfrey’s Tea Room stood before them, rustic red panes of painted wood interrupted by a few wide windows revealing the posh setting inside. Out of all the tea rooms in the area—and there were plenty—this fae-owned one meant he needed to watch out. The King and his entourage were in town, and the last thing he needed was for them to hear him talk treason over tea. Given the King and Darren Andrew’s appearances in town, Marisa and Claude sat out of the meeting this morning to run interference instead.

  “You sure they’re not going to escort me out the moment I step inside?” Renn drawled beside him.

  “The most you’ll get is a lot of looks,” Leo said, stepping up to the black door and reaching for the copper handle. “Guaranteed that’s something you’re used to, rock star.”

  He tugged the door open, and the delicate scents of cinnamon rolls, Danishes, and steeped black tea infiltrated his senses. Several brownies bustled behind the counter, pulling out scones and filling up tea pots with piping hot water. The fae barely came up to four feet with stringy hair, wild eyes, and overly large hands. The tips of their noses and ears reddened from exertion. The sun streamed in through the multitude of windows, golden rays creating patterns on the square chestnut tables. Each one held teapots in the center filled with sprays of cerulean sea flowers from the Otherworld.

  Leo scanned the length of the room, but no familiar faces leapt out apart from the Ashewarrens who had chosen a corner table for their rendezvous, away from the sunlight. His shoulders relaxed a fraction, even though he never unwound. The three asrai sat straight-backed with their delicate teacups filled, none of them bothering to look at him. They all had matching pale blue skin and silver hair, looking mostly human apart from the webbed fingers. Out of all the Unseelie noble families, the Ashewarrens were one of the few approachable ones who expressed their dissatisfaction with the status quo.

  With the Accords shattered, the rules of exchange between Seelie and Unseelie no longer mattered, yet everyone clung to their own kind.

  “Fuck,” Renn muttered behind him. “I haven’t seen these assholes in years.”

  “They requested to speak to the Cantrells, so I presumed you’d have some association,” Leo murmured as they strode toward the trio in the back.

  Lila Ashewarren looked up at him at last, lifting her cup of tea to her lips and taking a sip. Her pale silver gaze unsettled him, but then again, most of their kind did.

  “I mean, in the way our families shared information on each side,” Renn said. “You know the old rules of association though. Like always kept to like. Close fraternization between Seelie and Unseelie was frowned upon. At least, until some brazen fucker broke the Accords.”

  “Careful,” Leo warned, even as his lips lifted in a smile. They stepped to the table and slid into the two empty seats.

  “Leo Kincaid,” Lila murmured, deigning to address him. “I see you found a Cantrell to entertain our query?” The lingering glance in Renn’s direction conveyed all the disdain she left unspoken. Leo set his jaw. They’d made the request with no further specifications, which was their mistake. Besides, Renn Cantrell was the best out of the whole damn family.

  “I aim t
o please,” he responded.

  A brownie waiter came bustling over to take their orders, barely reaching the table.

  He chose Darjeeling and the scone of the day while Renn stared at the waiter dead-eyed and ordered coffee. Leo swallowed back his laugh. The brownie spluttered at the satyr’s lack of manners, and the rest of the denizens of the table turned to stare at Renn.

  The moment the brownie stepped away, Clarence Ashewarren set his teacup on the table with a clink. “It might be best you brought Renn anyway,” he said, casting a meaningful look to his sister. “After all, we know how the rest of the Cantrells feigned ignorance when Belle disappeared.”

  At the sound of her name, Renn’s casual demeanor vanished, and he stiffened in his seat.

  Leo itched to reach over and offer a reassuring hand on his leg, but he restrained himself. They had work to do.

  The youngest asrai at the table, Leticia Ashewarren, let out a cough. Her silver strands were pulled into a bun, and the stylish black dress she wore appeared right at home in this place. She didn’t look to Leo, instead focusing on Renn.

  “My brother Stefan went missing a few years ago,” she said. Both Clarence and Lila gave her a nod in agreement. Her hands balled into fists on the tabletop. “Similar circumstances to your sister’s disappearance, and they’re not the only ones. Over the years, children in noble families have been vanishing, yet the families turn a blind eye, acting as if nothing ever happened.”

  “I’m guessing you want help finding the culprits,” Leo said, filling in the blanks. This avenue might be difficult, but he’d been developing his resources and network for years.

  The brownie strolled over with a pot of tea and a coffee while another carried out a rosemary lemon scone with clotted cream. The table lapsed into a weighted silence, pregnant with everyone’s motives. They all came to this meeting for different reasons, but Leo hoped to weave those threads together into another alliance. Leo poured his cup of Darjeeling and lifted the steaming liquid to his lips. He never minded a little heat.

  Once the brownies departed from the table, Lila’s gaze flickered toward him. “You’re wrong. We already have a suspicion of the Unseelie family involved in this. What we want is Stefan back. If he’s no longer alive, then we want to know what happened. This needs to stop.”

  “Done,” Renn growled in agreement, before Leo could get a word in edgewise. This situation was too volatile for Renn to negotiate—he should’ve known that. Yet they wouldn’t go off gallivanting into a suicide mission without an ironclad agreement.

  “If you want my help, I’ll require yours in turn,” Leo said, tugging out the papers he’d drawn up for the situation. “We will find Stefan or what happened to him and the others. Yet in exchange, I’ll require your alliance. Since the Accords have dissolved, the Courts are no longer a stable form of allegiance. Change is on the horizon, and I plan to be at the helm.” He pushed the papers and a pen forward.

  Clarence grabbed them and skimmed over the words.

  “If the family we suspect is behind this, that won’t be an issue,” Lila murmured. “The Unseelie Court will have made themselves an enemy for life.”

  Leo’s stomach sank. Of course. This couldn’t just be a small tier family involved in the operation. He had the feeling whatever name she gave would be one he wouldn’t like and worse, would recognize.

  “Who?” Renn asked, his voice a rough scrape of urgency.

  “The Harrod family. Most likely the patriarch, Jericho Harrod,” Lila murmured, lowering her tone at the mention. Her gaze flickered around the room as if he might emerge at any point.

  Leo’s remained a mask, even as his chest tightened. The Harrods were a vicious redcap family who had the ear to the Unseelie King. Infiltrating their estate wouldn’t just be dangerous—the idea was pure madness.

  Yet, he’d already toppled Tymarch Alberich, and another domino needed to fall, this time on the Unseelie side. With the Accords broken and the constant threat of the hunters keeping the Courts too occupied to band together, he needed to act now.

  Leo took a sip from his cup, aware the Ashewarrens all looked to him for an answer. The warmth from the Darjeeling traveled down his throat, stoking the rage that burned inside him ever since he lost his father. He offered a polite smile and tapped a finger on the papers. “Sign the agreement, and we’re in business.”

  Leticia grabbed for the pen first, holding it poised over the paper. She glanced to her brother and sister before signing. Clarence and Lila signed next, an agreement that would cement their alliance. Nothing of his planned revolution could be traced on paper, but the terms of their alliance were clear.

  By the end of this, the Courts would burn.

  Leo placed his cup on the saucer. “I can count on you to send me any information you’ve gathered to lead to this conclusion?”

  Lila nodded, tugging off a bite of her lemon scone to munch on. “Anything you can do to get Stefan back. I’m sure you understand.” She paused to look to Renn.

  The satyr had grown strangely quiet during the talk, but this shade of seriousness from him didn’t surprise Leo. After all, mention of his sister Belle had gotten Renn to abandon his makeshift family and sign onto Kincaid’s cause with barely any prompting. Despite the man’s attempts to cling to superficial, the river clearly flowed cavern-deep and almost forgotten.

  “I’m surprised you’re all banding together on this,” Renn commented. “The Cantrells clung to the ‘sweep it under the rug’ mantra.” A corrosive bitterness clung to his voice, and the dark look in Renn’s eyes said everything he didn’t elaborate.

  “We know,” Lila said. “When Stefan disappeared, we tried to connect with the Cantrells and were met with an iron wall of resistance from your family. It’s as if Belle had never existed.”

  Damn. No wonder the man steered far away from the rest of his family. In the Seelie and Unseelie circles, the boys of Discord’s Desire were by and large considered failures to their families. After all, none of them had aligned to their side and made their commitment to the Courts. They stuck to human territories and stayed far away from their own kind. For that reason alone, Leo had first approached Danica due to her connection with them.

  He might regret dragging them deeper into this mess if they hadn’t been heading that way to begin with. No matter what, the outliers would find themselves in the center of this chaos.

  “He’s our brother,” Leticia spoke up, an unwavering look in her eyes. “We weren’t a fan of the Courts before this as we’ve been on the sour end of bad deals and political maneuvers. My brother’s disappearance solidified that distrust.”

  Renn nodded. “If he’s alive, I’ll find a way to bring him back to you.” He averted his gaze and grabbed for his cup of coffee, slugging back the liquid like it wasn’t scorching.

  Leo swept up the signed papers and tucked them into his briefcase. He needed to get this information to Marisa and Claude at once so they could start researching the best avenues of infiltration. Simply sneaking in wouldn’t work in this occurrence—the Harrods’ manor wasn’t a mere house—the place could substitute as a military fortress.

  “Thank you for entertaining this meeting,” Leo said, clinging to politeness even as his brain whirred. Already, potential plans unfurled in his brain, spiderwebbing out like fractured glass. A thousand different directions, but he excelled here in the planning. In the control. Without it, he couldn’t survive.

  “Try and sell this information to anyone, and we’ll know,” Clarence warned.

  Not like they needed to worry. Leo needed an ally in the Unseelie, and this family was his best chance at finding someone he was willing to work with. After all, he’d only survived being business partners with Tymarch Alberich for so long because he’d been plotting the man’s demise the entire time. Otherwise, he might’ve never been able to scrape the grime off his skin.

  Renn hopped up from his seat, the coffee cup empty on the table. He slipped his hands into his pockets
and braced his shoulders. As if he’d waved a flag, one of the brownies rushed over with the check in tow.

  Leo placed his card down. “I’ve got this.” Lila nodded in appreciation and continued to take delicate bites from her scone. The brownie scampered off with his card. Leo’s gaze settled on the trio. “I’ll set to work at once,” he reassured them. “And if I start to stray, you can bet Renn will keep me on course.”

  He glanced to Renn, whose gaze had softened. That look in the wild, gorgeous man’s eyes plucked a resonant chord in him, and Leo needed to swallow and look away. That sort of vulnerability from the man who guarded his sister so ferociously was worth fighting an entire nation over.

  “Yeah, I’ll make sure,” Renn responded, his tone gruffer than normal.

  Leticia’s shoulders sank in relief. From one protective sibling to another, the two seemed to have struck a connection.

  The brownie bustled back over with his card, and they said their goodbyes.

  Renn almost bolted from the table at the go-ahead, and only Leo’s long strides helped him keep up. The door swung open, and Renn plunged into the sunlight, Leo following him steps after. As soon as they exited, Renn slowed down, allowing Leo to catch up with him, but he didn’t look his way.

  “So back there,” Leo started.

  Renn’s hands balled into fists. “About that—how long does it take you each morning to strap into those executive pants, bad boy?” The defensiveness was obvious.

  Leo exhaled a sigh. “I was going to say good job.”

  Renn’s brows drew together as he glanced at Leo, his pace slowing. His fists unclenched. “No point in being anything but honest with them.”

  Leo shrugged, a grin clinging to his mouth. “I had the feeling you’d be the right person for the job. I want the Ashewarrens on my side, not because they’ve got a cause I can exploit, but because I want my allies to be ones I respect.”

  Renn bared teeth with his grin. “Oh so, not just because I’m a hot piece of ass?”

  Leo pursed his lips to keep from grinning harder. “Definitely that. Speaking of, we’ve got some unfinished business to handle later tonight.” His tone dripped with insinuation, even though Renn didn’t need further urging. The satyr’s mind revolved around sex twenty-four-seven.