Rae Rivers - The Keepers - Declan

And had his ass kicked by a woman.

When they'd met three months ago, Kate was everything he needed. Beautiful smile, an infectious laugh, and womanly curves that offered the perfect diversion from his destructive road. Alcohol, women, self-loathing, grief. God, he’d almost drowned himself in them all.

But Kate had been a wake-up call. He’d fallen straight into her trap. The whiskey, the easy flow of conversation, endless laughter and the hottest sex he’d ever had.

Even numb from the whiskey, he remembered her. Clearly. Up until the point she’d climbed out of his bed to pour them a drink. From then on, everything was a blank.

He’d woken up the following morning with a headache that smacked of more than a hangover; naked and minus his key. And damn, he’d liked that key. Spelled to open any door, it was a nifty gadget.

A call from Archer had saved Kate’s hide and kept him from tracking her.

Archer had finally found Sienna – as had Warrick Brogan, seeking vengeance and Mason’s freedom. That alone had been enough for Declan to cut short his two-year sorrow party to return home and defend his witch.

A calling. His duty. His destiny.

And they’d kicked ass. Sienna had kicked ass and made him so proud. Mason was still entombed and Warrick had met his creepy-assed makers.

A victory marred by another death. Sweet, beautiful, kind Rose – Sienna’s grandmother – who sacrificed herself to save her granddaughter. Without that selfless act, they’d have lost Sienna that night. They’d all taken Rose’s death hard.

Declan inhaled and rerouted his thoughts to Kate – the perfect distraction from the memories. Once he confronted her, he was going to wring her pretty neck himself.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. Keeping a watchful eye on the entrance to the club, Declan headed for the alleyway that offered a quieter place to talk.

“Hello, brother,” he said, answering the call.

“Did you find the girl?”

Trust Archer to get straight to business. “Yes.”

“You okay?”

“Tickled pink.”

“Where are you?”

“New Orleans.”

“Declan, now’s not the time to be drinking whiskey and chasing women.”

Declan rolled his eyes at his brother’s irritated tone. “Whiskey’s a given, brother, and the only woman I’m chasing is the one who stole our daggers.”

“So why New Orleans?”

“She came here. I just followed.”

Following Kate had been easy. She’d moved quickly and silently but her inexperience showed. Thief. At first, Declan had charged full steam ahead but the more he followed, anger turned into intrigue. He’d slipped into stealth mode.

She was scared.

The thought shouldn’t alter what he thought of her and he refused to acknowledge that it might. Hell no. She’d stolen from them, dropped a scroll that hinted at a whole lot of crap Declan didn’t feel like dealing with, and run.

But he needed to know why she’d wanted the daggers so badly. He also wanted to know why she’d hidden her Keeper abilities when they’d first met. Odd that he hadn’t sensed them in her. As for the questions sparked by the scroll, those needed more than a simple explanation.

“Do you know who she is?” Archer asked.

Oh, yeah. “I’m working on it.”

Until he knew exactly what she was after, why she’d pursued him for his key and stolen the daggers, his involvement with Kate was for his knowledge only.

“So where is she?”

“About to attend a masked party.”

“A burglary and a party all in one week? She gets around. Does she know you’ve followed her?”

“She’s crafty, seems to sense that someone is. And I’m not the only one.” Declan thought of the jittery woman and the familiar faces he’d spotted since he’d set chase. They’d been discreet, searching her out, following her from a distance. They hadn’t harmed her yet but had sparked Declan’s curiosity. If someone else was after her, he wanted to know why.

“Any idea who they are or what they want with her?”

“No, but I doubt they have dinner and a movie in mind.”

“Well find her, Declan.”

Declan ignored his brother’s agitation. “Trust me, brother, she’s in my sights.” He glanced at the club, the entrance occupied with streams of people coming and going. Some wore masks, others outrageous costumes. Kate would blend in perfectly.

“We need those daggers so get your ass out of the bourbon.”

“My ass is where it needs to be. How’s Sienna?”

“Better. Missing Rose but the scroll has taken her mind off it.”

“The legend of that scroll is a bedtime story, Archer. That’s all it is.”

It had to be. A small triangle set within a larger triangle, each point marked with a symbol. Set within the smallest triangle was a blackness that hinted at an ancient legend. According to Sienna, the legend stipulated that a blackness would one day overtake their world. The symbols on the scroll were the keys to defeating it.

The snag was that none of them knew how to decode it.

“Maybe, but Sienna’s scouring Rose’s Grimoires anyway.”

“If you find anything, let me know.”

“I will.”

A commotion at the entrance of the club caught Declan’s attention. A man arrived with an entourage. He wore a white suit, a hat, and a cocky grin. His grand entrance and loud welcome signalled popularity.

The man turned around, his face visible, and everything inside Declan clenched in surprise, followed by a flash of fury.

Shit.

“Declan?” Archer prompted.

Declan blinked, realising he’d said that aloud. “Yeah, I’m here,” he replied, returning the phone to his ear.

“What’s wrong?”

“Harper Avery,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’ve followed the woman into a club and he’s just arrived.”

“Harper? What’s he doing there?”

Declan caught the immediate hatred that lined his brother’s voice. Harper supported the Brogan brothers – had been Warrick’s right hand man for years. He’d kidnapped Sienna, then Rose. He’d drugged them and vanished into thin air after Warrick’s death.

“And he’s grinning like he’s won the lottery.”

“Asshole. We should have killed him when we had the chance,” Archer said, his voice a low growl.

“Yeah, brother. Hindsight crap won’t change the fact that this woman just stepped into the lion’s den.”

“What business would she have with Harper?”

“No idea, but I intend to find out. “

“Call me when you do.”

“I will.”

“And Declan?” Archer added, his tone losing the sharp edge. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“If that’s your way of saying ‘be careful’, then I love you too, brother,” Declan quipped, unable to keep the sarcasm at bay. He blew Archer an exaggerated kiss, hung up the phone, and headed straight for the club.

It took all of five minutes and a flash of cash to secure himself a hat from a teenage boy with a love of Zorro. Not his choice of accessory but better than a feathery mask.

Tugging on his hat he went inside and took a seat by the bar, scoured the room for signs of Kate. A woman with a wide smile, wearing a leather outfit, slid into the available space between his legs.

“You look lonely, handsome,” she said, hooking a finger into the hem of his T-shirt.

“I’m not.”

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“It’s not a one drink night.”

She grinned, red lipstick stretching across a pale face. “Oh, you sound like my kind of guy.”

Declan twisted around and motioned to the barman for a round of drinks. When they arrived within seconds, the youngster was quick to earn himself a hefty tip.