The Wicked Read Online Free Page A

she felt the force of his presence as a palpable thing. As he turned his head to glance down the stairs at the others, she also saw that he was not as young as she had first thought. Lines bracketed his hard mouth and fanned out from the corners of his eyes. She couldn’t tell if the white that flecked his sable brown hair so strikingly was from age, or if it was a characteristic of his kind of Wyr.
    Groping for some measure of composure, she reminded him, “My name is Olivia Sutton.”
    “I know who you are,” said Sebastian. He did not make that sound like a good thing. “Take one of the seats at the first table. You will sit with me.”
    Her entire body pulsed in reaction. Surprise, and something else, something quite out of the ordinary. All she knew was that her response was completely involuntary, and by the small tilt of his head, she realized he had sensed it. Damn those ultra-sensitive Wyr senses.
    All the while, his expression remained as revealing as a stone wall.
    She refused to feel as if she were back in grade school and summoned to the principal’s office. With as much composure as she could muster, she said, “Certainly, if you wish it.”
    Without another word, he turned to the next person in line, and she knew that, at least for the moment, she had been dismissed.
     
     
    Sebastian knew exactly when things had gotten interesting, and it hadn’t been when he had accepted the contract for the job that Carling had offered and decided to head the team himself.
    In fact, Bailey, his vice president and the second in command of his security company, had questioned that very decision at their home office in Jamaica.
    “You’re not cleared for work,” she said, leaning her tall frame against the doorway of his office. Her sleek, Light Fae build was corded with muscle, and she kept her curling blonde hair cut short in a careless, charming tousle. “In fact, you’re getting worse, not better. Why did you take this job?”
    “There’s no major, life-altering reason,” he said without turning away from his desk. The morning had already turned sultry, and a ceiling fan pushed the hot air around the room. He had already discarded his shirt and wore cutoff jeans. He had promised himself a long, cool swim as soon as he had finished some necessary paperwork. “Carling is an old friend, and we bartered an exchange of services, that’s all. And there’s no point in me remaining holed up in this office, sitting on my ass while I wait for our research teams to bring me news of something that may or may not be of use to me. This way I can spend a few weeks keeping busy, while the time slippage will give them a few months to try to find answers.”
    Not that there was any real hope that any of their research teams would bring back something that could help him. He had not yet told Bailey what Carling had told him, gently, when he had consulted with her. He hadn’t told anybody yet.
    Bailey studied his expression. She didn’t appear to like what she saw. “You sound so bored.”
    “I am bored,” he told her. “I’ve been bored for a long time.”
    That had no doubt played a major factor in his getting injured during the last job, if “injured” was even the right word for what had happened to him. What was continuing to happen to him. He had made a huge mistake by underestimating the danger of the situation they had been in. He had been bored, and he hadn’t been paying enough attention. He knew it, and Bailey knew it. Neither one of them said it aloud.
    Instead, she said in a light tone of voice, “C’mon, it’s an ancient, magical library on a deserted island that houses a mysterious sentient species. Aren’t you the slightest bit interested in that?”
    “Three months ago, I was protecting an archaeological party from a tribal chieftain who was in possession of a shrunken head that uttered curses against one’s enemies.” He shifted his sunglasses to rub his aching eyes. Another headache began