Free Hidden Dragons by Emma Holly Page B

had fascinated her as a teenager. The thighs were lighter of course. His leg muscles were well developed. More distracting were the paler patches around his crotch, where the weight of his balls habitually rubbed the cloth. God, he had a substantial package. Cass shook her head to herself. Could he really be that hefty when he wasn’t aroused? She could see the thickness of his penis pressing against his zipper and stretching down his pant’s leg. The head was discernible—rounded and big and . . .
    Arousal and awareness flashed through her like lightning bolts. He was hard. That was a full-blown boner she was ogling. She must have dusted him without realizing, because he attracted her. Shit, this was embarrassing.
    Face blazing, she yanked her gaze to his.
    He knew what she’d been staring at. His darker skin hid his flush better, but it was there. Apparently, he wasn’t going to mention her faux pas. He clenched his jaw—in annoyance or determination—and pulled his hand out of his pocket. Metal gleamed in the sun.
    “Have you seen anything like this before?” he asked.
    Her eyes saw the brass knuckle thingie he’d drawn out, but her brain couldn’t quite catch up. It assumed he was referring to his prize-winning erection. No, Detective , she thought with slightly hysteric humor. I’ve never seen anything quite like that.
    Cass was certain her friend Jin would have uttered the wisecrack aloud.
    ~
    This interview was turning out even more awkward than Rick had feared. That Cass had seen Mt. Everest rising from his crotch was obvious. Ignoring his embarrassment and hers, he held out the electrum knuckles. Cass touched them before he could warn her not to. Nothing happened—or nothing to do with them giving her a shock. Her little finger bumped his palm accidentally. Tingles streaked through him so strongly he shuddered.
    Rather than take the weapon from his hand, she brushed over it with her thumb and forefinger. “I’m not an expert on reading objects, but I can tell you this is millennia old. The runes are an obscure dialect of High Fae.” She lifted her hand, her palm now hovering an inch above his. When she closed her eyes, the fans of her black-black lashes rested serenely on her cheeks. “The energy inside the electrum feels transformative.”
    “Transformative.”
    She nodded without lifting her eyelids. “That’s the best description I can give. I can’t tell if the enchantment is meant to change itself or something else. For what it’s worth, these things have been keyed to match your energy. I assume you were given them as a gift?”
    Deeply ingrained cop habit kept him from confirming this. “Are they dangerous?”
    She shrugged and opened her eyes again. “Any magic can be. I don’t sense an intent to harm you. The opposite, actually. If I were forced to guess, I’d say they were protective.”
    She’d spoken as casually as someone reading the newspaper, this sort of thing second nature to her.
    “If I’m allowed to ask,” she said, “where did you get them?”
    This was his opening if he wanted it. He hesitated. Did he really want to share the cockamamie story of a dying fae maybe suggesting she was in danger and—also maybe—claiming he was her protector?
    “Is this related to the faerie who died in the subway last night?” she asked.
    Little hairs stood up on his arms. “Why would you say that?”
    Again she shrugged, her eyes watching his closely. “I’m half faerie. We get hunches. Forgive me for saying so, but your reaction tells me I’m right.”
    “Yes,” he admitted, oddly glad she’d pushed him to. “Here’s the thing. When the faerie gave them to me, she implied her enemies were watching and that I needed to warn someone they were in danger. She failed, but I mustn’t. She said the destiny of the city depended on me protecting this individual.”
    Cass was wide-eyed. “Who did she mean?”
    “She said I’d know. Cass, I think she was talking about