I tore my mouth away, desperate for air, and he ran his mouth along the side of my neck. Tangling my hands in his messy curls, I guided his head down. He boosted me up higher, his mouth sliding to the low neckline of my tank top, the thin fabric clinging to my breasts.

My shirt was really, really in the way right now. So was his. So were all our clothes.

“Ezra,” I began.

He lifted his head. His mismatched eyes burned with hot, desperate need that had been building for weeks. Maybe months. Maybe since the day we’d met, since that first smile, that first laugh.

Concealing dangerous secrets and unwilling to become intimate with anyone, he’d never hinted that he was attracted to me. Certain that he’d reject any advance and distracted by Aaron, I’d never admitted my crazy lust for him either. As the months of denial carried us along, our relationship growing ever closer, the fire had slowly heated. And now the inferno was consuming me.

Forgetting what I’d been about to say, I caught his mouth and kissed him with all the pent-up need I’d denied, with all the desperate urgency I was trying to conceal. His mouth devoured mine, taking everything, wanting more. His tongue slid across mine. His hands clutched my legs, his torso crushing me into the wall.

I tore my mouth away a second time. “Ezra,” I gasped. “The bed is over there.”

Hazy, hungry eyes raked across my face, then he stepped back from the wall. Sliding down him, I got my feet back on the floor, grabbed his shirt, and pulled it over his head. He released me just long enough to free his arms from the fabric, then his hands were on my waist, sliding under my top, fingers gliding over my skin.

Plastering myself against his hard chest, I pushed him backward, steering him across the room. He moved with me, hands exploring, mouth locked on mine while I greedily traced every inch of his skin. As we stumbled toward the bed, my fingers found the waistband of his boxers, and I slid my hand across the fabric, taking advantage of those undone jeans.

Spinning us, he leaned me back over the bed. I fell onto it, aching, burning, needing him. Standing between my knees, he paused, his gaze roving over every curve of my body, drinking in the sight of me lying across his bed, damn near ready to beg.

He put a knee on the mattress between my thighs. Ran his hand up my leg to my hip. Leaned down.

The front screen door banged loudly.

“Ezra?” Aaron called, hoarse with exhaustion. “You up?”

Ezra’s eyes went wide. We stared at each other for a long heartbeat—then we both lurched off his bed. As I grabbed his shirt off the floor, he did up the fly of his jeans—with difficulty, the sight making my breath catch. I handed him his shirt and he pulled it on.

Aaron’s voice echoed up the stairs. “Ezra?”

Ezra brushed his fingers across the back of my hand, then rushed out of the room. His footsteps thudded down the stairs.

“Aaron, how did it go?”

“It was a nightmare. Any word from Tori?”

“She turned up around four. She’ll be down in a minute. She’s just changing.”

Oh, right. I still hadn’t changed. I dug into the closet, searching through my stash of clothes. Stripping naked—Ezra’s door was still open, but oh well—I dressed in cotton pants, a tank top, and an oversized sweater. I’d change into leather if or when we were ready to kick some ass. Grabbing a pair of socks, I hurried down the stairs.

“Where did that prick take Tori last night?” Aaron asked, his voice coming from the living room.

“I don’t know yet. She fell asleep on the sofa before she could tell me, and we only woke up a few minutes ago.” Ezra yawned. “She seems okay, but disturbed about something.”

I breezed into the room, but my carefree attitude faltered at the sight of Aaron. He was slumped in the middle of the sofa, his face pale, haggard, and smudged with soot. Sharpie, safely in its sheath, lay across the coffee table, and his combat gear was dusted with ash and dirt. The stench of smoke clung to him.

“Holy shit, Aaron.” I hastened to the sofa and sat beside him. “Did Shane take you for a stroll through hell?”

“Seemed like it,” he muttered, head resting against the cushions and eyes closed. “The Pandora Knights’ guild was leveled. It was all on fire. Bodies … the Pandora mages didn’t hold back. Those idiot rogues paid a heavy price for … whatever they were trying to do.”

Ezra perched on the edge of the recliner, elbows braced on his knees. “Any casualties from the Pandora Knights?”

“Some injuries. No deaths. They’re tough as shit. Still, they lost their headquarters and everything in it. All their gear, training equipment, personal belongings … They’re pissed.” He rubbed a hand over his face, leaving streaky fingerprints in the soot. “It’s been dead quiet around here for weeks, then out of nowhere, this. I don’t get it.”

“What does Shane think?” Ezra asked.

“Who the hell knows? The guy is a steel trap when it comes to information. He said he’s here for the Ghost’s bounty, so I can’t even guess why he’s so interested in this attack. He was all over the scene, then he dragged me across downtown, chasing clues and rogues.”

Heaving a sigh, he sat up and opened his eyes. “But enough of that. Tori, are you okay? Where did that dragon take you?”

“We visited Zak’s farm—or what’s left of it. You remember Varvara, right? She obliterated it, stole all his stuff, and killed the person he’d left to watch over it, his horses, and at least one fae he had a relationship with. And she’s using his grimoire to leak information about him to MagiPol.”

Aaron scratched at the five o’clock shadow roughening his jaw. “Where is he now?”

“Downtown somewhere, hunting Varvara.” I unrolled my socks and tugged one on my foot. “I think I have an idea why Shane is so keen on the attack against the Pandora Knights. One person connects everything.”

Aaron’s brow crinkled. “Who?”

“Zak.” I pulled on my other sock. “The crime lull, the rogue attack, Varvara, even the Yamada activity in Vancouver are all connected to Zak.”

Aaron and Ezra leaned forward, watching me intently.

“You said before that the power landscape is shifting. Red Rum was driven out, and Zak went into hiding. That left a big gap in the Scary People of Vancouver group, and the Yamadas—or, I guess, the Miuras, since it’s Makiko’s family running things here—began a takeover. But then Varvara got involved.”

“Varvara is involved?”

“She lured all the little guys over to her side. That’s why the rogues and rogue guilds got so quiet. She was taking control of them. According to the guy Zak questioned last night, Varvara was behind the Pandora Knights attack.”

“Shit,” Aaron muttered.

“Why?” Ezra looked between us. “What’s the point in attacking a guild?”

I grimaced. “That part I’m not sure about, but Varvara’s got to have some sort of evil plan. Evil plans are her thing. Considering she spent fifteen years secretly raising an abducted kid to be her apprentice, we’ve got to assume it’s both nasty and sneaky.”

“Hmm.” Aaron gazed thoughtfully at his sword, then his face twisted. “Damn it! We need Kai. He understands this stuff.”

I nodded fervently. “Yes, Kai. We need a plan for him.”

Aaron flopped back onto the sofa.

I waited a moment. “Aaron?”

“I’m not sure we can make a plan.”

“What? Why not? We can’t just leave him—”

He slanted his head toward me, still limp with exhaustion. “I don’t want to leave him either, but we can’t protect him from an international crime syndicate. Whatever we might attempt will only make things worse for him.”

Disbelieving fury bubbled up in me but I choked it back. “If Kai got away from them once, he can do it again. We just have to—”

“But he didn’t get away,” Aaron corrected heavily. “He never confronted them, or even told them he was done. He just stopped going home, and they allowed it. I have no idea why, and neither does Kai. He didn’t expect it to last more than a few months, but his family decided that if he was going to ignore them, then they’d ignore him too—with a few exceptions.”

“What exceptions?”

“If he tries to date anyone, mainly, or if he interferes in their business. We found out about the second one when we tagged a Yamada associate without realizing who the guy was.”

My forehead scrunched anxiously. “What happened?”

“Kai vanished one night on his way home.” His voice went oddly flat. “I found him on the front lawn the next morning, unconscious with his left arm and left hand broken in six places.”

Ezra’s face lost all expression, the air around him chilling.

Aaron stared broodingly at his clenched fists. “All the freedom Kai had was freedom they allowed him, and they’ve taken it away. I’m not sure there’s anything we can do.”

“We have to do something.”

“I know, but we can’t just rush in with magic blazing. We need to be cautious.”

I sighed miserably. “Those are words I never expected to hear from you.”

“I have to be the responsible one since Kai isn’t here to do it.”

“Wait.” Ezra gazed between us, extra serious. “If you’re Kai now, is Tori you? Or am I you and Tori’s me? Or—”

“Please don’t torture my poor brain.” Aaron pushed off the sofa. “I need to shower and get some sleep.”

“Do you want to eat?” Ezra asked.

“Too tired. Save me something to warm up in a few hours.”

As he headed downstairs to the shower, my eyes met Ezra’s—and we both quickly looked away. A blush warmed my cheeks and I bit my lower lip. Talk about bad timing for an impromptu make-out session.