The Keepers: Declan

“We need to get out of here,” Declan said, grabbing her hand.

“Where to? We’re trapped!”

He glanced at the building opposite them and she gasped.

“Hell no, Bennett.”

A brief grin broke out onto gorgeous lips and he tugged her closer. “Oh, hell yeah.”

“Declan, I can’t!”

“Of course you can. You’re a damn Keeper,” he said, reaching for her hand.

She dug in her heels, panic taking hold of her. “Not like you! I can’t –”

Harper’s henchmen charged, oozing anger and aggression, and Declan’s grip tightened as he started running. Kate screeched and followed blindly, clinging to him as though he were a lifeline.

They landed on the opposite building with a speed that left her dizzy, and tumbled to the ground, colliding with the table and chairs.

“Are you okay?” Declan asked, breathless, and scrambled to his feet.

No. Everything pounded, raced, ached, but went ignored as he pulled her up. “I’m fine.”

They headed for the exit, a lone steel door that proved to be impenetrable – even with Declan’s strength. He shoved, kicked, and the door dented but refused to give way. Kate tugged the necklace off her neck.

Shoving the enchanted key into the lock, she flashed him a smile when it clicked open.

“Later, when this is over, you’re so giving that back to me,” Declan said and pushed her inside.

The door slammed behind them. They rushed down the stairs, making their way through the building and out one of the side entrances.

The street was packed with the usual night owls, and the mood was cheerful, a contrast to the tension that riddled them. The crowd engulfed them in boozy delight and they were swept away.

“Where to now?” Kate shouted above the noise.

Reaching for her hand, he pulled her closer, dipping his head beside hers. “Just keep moving forward. We need to get as far away from this crowd as possible. Harper will have his people everywhere and once they’ve mingled with this lot, it’ll be impossible to tell the difference between them and the tourists.”

A blonde woman dressed in leather wedged herself between Kate and Declan and took him by the arm. “There you are, sunshine,” she said with a flirty smile.

Kate glanced around, but confusion reigned as the crowd swept her away.

“Declan!” she shouted, looking over her shoulder, torn between the urge to find him and run from him. He might have helped her but they were still enemies. He’d still want answers, his key and the daggers – all of which she wasn’t ready to part with.

And he also knew about her magic. They all knew.

Oh, God.

A hand snatched her wrist.

“Let’s get out of here,” Declan said, tugging her to the side of the crowd.

“Where’re we going?”

“Away from these people.”

She hesitated, her mother’s warnings rushing forward, but relented. Right now, her options were limited.

Still holding her hand, he led her to the closest alleyway, glancing behind them as they walked. They neared the back door of a hotel and he reached for the handle, cursing to find it locked.

“Wait,” she said when he rattled it with frustrated force. “I have the key.”

Dark eyebrows hitched. “You do?”

She pulled out the key chain nestled between her breasts. As she unlocked the door, unease arrowed straight to her gut and her heart began to race. Her breath caught as Declan grabbed her hand, tugging her so roughly that she tripped on the step.

“Dammit, Kate, get a move on!” he snapped. He reached for her and she drew on every ounce of willpower not to flinch at the mark on his left wrist.

The tattoo of the warlock he supported.

Slapping his hand away, she rose, eyeing him carefully as panic took grip.

His gaze fell to his exposed wrist, triggering a smile.

She drew on her centre, channelling her power the way she’d been taught.

The lights flickered and energy filled the air as the image of Declan disappeared to reveal Max. His long hair hung in messy strands around his flushed face. A flicker of surprise crossed his expression when he realised she’d disarmed him, but disappeared as he gave her a smirk.

Her mother had once warned her of Mimics – people with the ability to imitate others. It was a dark magic, seldom seen or used, but its perfect execution had fooled her.

Declan.

Like hell.

She reeled for the door, but he lunged, slamming her against the wall. He shoved a hand against her mouth, muffling her scream. He smelt of cigars and aggression. Her attempts to break free only tightened his grip and earned her a yank of the hair.

It got her attention.

As did the knife he slid against her throat.

He swung her around to face him, shoving her against the wall without budging the knife.

“Crash course in survival, darling,” he drawled, pressing it into her flesh. “If you’re being hunted, don’t seek out your hunter.”

Something snapped inside as Kate gasped for air, clawing at the hands that held her prisoner. She felt the flush of energy with her fury and dug her nails into his skin so hard that he grunted.

“Crash course in survival, asshole,” she said in a steady voice, pleased that her tone gave nothing away. “If you’re hunting your prey, don’t underestimate her.” With an animal scream, her knee came up with a speed and force that buckled him.

She aimed a kick that sent him sprawling across the floor. His outraged roar ripped through the corridor and he struggled to his feet, swiping hair from his face.