Disturbed by the direction his thoughts were rapidly taking, he took his own step back, only to be jostled toward her by the press of the crowd too absorbed in seeking their own pleasure to realize they should be keeping their distance.
Even among immortals there were rumors that simply touching a wraith was the kiss of death. Crossing paths with one was considered a bad omen for an immortal or their loved ones, as if a wraith was the equivalent to the humans’ grim reaper.
“Sorry.”
Briana tipped her head. “Are you apologizing for bumping into me, or ditching me in Vegas?”
“I needed to leave.”
“And that made it okay to vanish without a word?”
He frowned. She’d been safe at the time, or so he’d assumed. He’d witnessed how resourceful and ruthless she was when sparring with her brothers, all of whom made tough opponents.
Still, he found himself apologizing again. “I shouldn’t have left you there unprotected.”
Anger ignited her pretty blue eyes. “Forget it.”
She pushed past him, and he found himself stepping into her path. For the second time her reaction to what he’d done confused him.
“What?”
“I didn’t need your protection. I needed—” She blew out a frustrated breath. “Right now I’d just really like to know why everyone thinks I’m incapable of taking care of myself.” She looked at something above his shoulder. Probably the office.
Although he figured the statement was rhetorical, he responded anyway. “Your brothers?”
She nodded.
A burst of icy awareness snaked down his spine, and he spun around, scanning the area. Around him humans and immortals mingled and danced, no one raising anything more lethal than a glass or bottle.
A harder look revealed few Fae were in the vicinity and none of them bore the strange glyph on their foreheads. He hadn’t had any luck figuring out who had attacked him or been able to determine if they would try again. He’d been waiting for it, though, and hadn’t ruled out the possibility that Rhiannon had something to do with it.
Or was he just being paranoid?
“What’s wrong?” Her fingers touched his arm, and Lucan clenched his fist. Sensing the tension in him, Briana withdrew her hand.
“It’s nothing.”
“Like what happened in the underground parking lot?”
“That was more of a minor inconvenience.”
“Are you talking about the Fae warrior or the redhead?” She looked away the second the question left her mouth, but before he could decipher her meaning, she frowned. “I don’t suppose you and Tristan patched things up a little and no one told me?”
“Not exactly. I’m meeting Mac here.”
She sighed. “You might have stood a better chance of leaving in one piece had you gone with an alternate location.”
“Worried about me again?”
“No. I’m worried a fight will leave a mess that I’ll have to clean up when you’re all off licking your wounds.”
“You sound pretty certain they’d do some damage.”
She gestured to his side. “Knight or not, you’ve proven you can be hurt from time to time.”
His jaw clenched. “I’m no longer a knight.” Hadn’t been in a very, very long time. Whatever he’d done to deserve that honor centuries ago no longer applied.
Briana didn’t seem so convinced. “Some parts of us can never be changed, no matter what a goddess does.”
He used to think so, but knew better. “You can’t really be that naïve.”
She flinched at the sharp tone. “If by naïve you mean that I’m not afraid of being honest with myself, then I guess so.”
“Don’t make the mistake of confusing me with something noble and honorable. I’m not that man any longer.” Rhiannon had made damn sure of that.
“So you keep trying to remind me. Why is that?” Her gaze was far too perceptive.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
She straightened, her brilliant blue eyes suddenly probing. “In Vegas. Was your little show with the redhead supposed to remind me of what Rhiannon did to you? Of what you think you are now?”
Glancing around for Mac gave him an excuse to look anywhere in the room but at her. “Putting on a show implies that I cared what you thought, when actually you were the farthest thing from my mind at the time.” The lie nearly caught in his throat.
Her expression betrayed nothing. Why did that seem worse than her telling him to screw off?
“I’ll see if I can get my brothers to back off for a bit.”
“No. I don’t want to be the reason there’s tension between all of you.”
She muttered something that sounded a lot like, “Too late,” under her breath. “I’ve been handling my brothers longer than you. I think I’ve got it covered.”
His fingers closed around her arm. “I don’t need you to protect me.” Even as he said it, he found himself wondering what it would be like to have someone he could trust to always have his back, to have a fierce female like Briana next to him.
“Who said it’s you I’m protecting?” For some reason the flippant tone didn’t match the stubborn gleam in her eyes. That said, she pushed through a break in the crunch of bodies and slipped away.
He tracked her through the crowd, fighting the urge to apologize—again—for being such a dick.
Better this way, he decided, turning his attention to business. He wouldn’t have been invited here of all places if there wasn’t something important to discuss. There was a reason Mac had chosen Pendragon’s and not the Wolf’s Den, and now that Lucan had run into Briana, it had better be a fucking good one.
Mood all shot to hell, he found Mac tucked in an alcove near the rear of the bar, closest to the exit. The wolf appeared relaxed, leaning back against the wall, two fingers hooked around the neck of the bottle in his hand.
Eyes locked on something above Lucan’s head, Mac cocked his head. “Do you think it will hurt?”
Used to the wolf’s vague comments, Lucan waited for his friend to get to the point.
“When her three brothers, one of whom is still extremely pissed at you, come to kick your ass?” Mac clarified. “Because I can guarantee that if you keep looking at Briana like that, one of them is going to take a chunk out of your shadowy hide.”
Knowing he’d only fuel Mac’s speculation by denying that he looked at Briana with anything but casual indifference, he surveyed the club. He deliberately avoided glancing up at the three men on the balcony leading to Cale’s office.
“Tell me why you insisted on meeting here of all places? Vegas not good enough?”
Mac shrugged. “It’s fun watching you squirm.”
“I’m not squirming.” He was deliberately not moving any more than necessary actually. He wasn’t interested in provoking any of the Callaghan brothers. He still considered them allies, if not friends, and couldn’t blame them for hating him.
Mac lowered his voice. “That wasn’t squirming with Briana a second ago?”
He shrugged. “She was trying to play peacemaker.”
“Is that all it was?” Mac didn’t wait for him to answer. “Strange that she’s been friendlier than even Cian.”
The youngest Callaghan brother had been part of the Gargoyle Guard and fought alongside Mac and Lucan. Arthur hadn’t been in favor of a unit of gargoyle protectors in the beginning, but as the fight to free Camelot and unite all of Avalon heated up, he’d relented, taking it upon himself to help train every cat, wolf and dragon that enlisted. No one had expected The Guard would become as vital to Arthur’s success as his own knights.
And then Arthur had fallen in battle and everything changed.
Cutting off that train of thought, Lucan started to press Mac again for an explanation, only to be interrupted by a burst of feminine laughter.