Chapter 3 – Finding Cole

(Brielle’s POV)

It was a toe-curling kiss, wanting me to curse myself for forgetting why I was here in the first place. He was so good at devouring my mouth that I wanted him to have the title for being such a good kisser. I moaned, hardly feeling the hard concrete wall of the bar when he pinned my back to it, and perhaps after a little more of this, I would probably pull off my dress to feel the skin of his hand on top of my clothes, cupping my brassiere.

I groaned when he stopped kissing me. He smiled, sliding his mouth and grazing my skin with the soft stubble hair on the side of his face as he moved his lips, touching my ear. I chewed on my bottom lip, suppressing a moan.

“As much as I want more of you, I hate having an audience, Brielle,” he said, saying my name like a piece of music.

He moved away from me, but before he could go, I grabbed his arm and smiled at him, but this time I was nervous, losing my confidence after drowning in his kiss.

“What’s your name? Please don’t leave me dreaming tonight of you without a name to call,” I said, biting my lower lip, cursing myself because my heart was pounding inside my chest erratically.

“Cole,” he answered briefly.

“Cole,” I smiled. “Dream of me tonight, Cole,” I teased seductively, but the stranger went back inside the bar, leaving me alone.

When he was gone, only then did my brain work.

Audience?

What did he mean by having an audience? I turned around, adjusting my eyes in the dark, and from afar, I saw Adam and Gen talking, and they walked toward me when Cole left.

“Good job, Barbie,” Adam uttered in a tone I could hardly recognize if he were praising me or mocking me. “I didn’t expect you’d go that far in distracting him. If he hadn’t left, you’d probably end up in his bed.”

I sneered at him, but he was right.

Gen heaved a sigh. “I’m jealous. You get the easy and exciting part while we ran after that lunatic shapeshifter.”

Monty? I blinked, remembering how Cole hit him with a pipe as if it would hurt him, but he escaped. I let him run, and I couldn’t do anything about it because I couldn’t compromise my identity, especially not with an ordinary agent like Cole.

“You didn’t catch him?” My eyebrows raised, not telling them he attacked Cole and me.

“Slippery as an eel,” Adam hissed. “We didn’t even see where he’d gone,” he said as we walked toward the rough road.

I sneered at him. “You made me sell my soul to a stranger, then you got nothing,” I made sure he heard the disappointment in my voice.

He glanced at me. “I wasn’t sure you did not enjoy it, Brielle. Why complain?” he snarled in a low voice.

I have just hit his ego, a bullseye!

“Easy on the princess, Adam,” Gen cut in. “If the agent were a woman, I’d volunteer for the job.” She chuckled softly, but none of us paid attention to her.

We were silent for a few minutes until we reached the main road.

“Where’s Giles and Bryce?” I asked, breaking the silence.

“They’ll just meet us at Mrs. Writingham’s place.” It was Gen who answered.

I guess I pissed Adam that he didn’t want to talk to me anymore, but I didn’t really care. Tonight, my mind was filled with Cole, his kisses, and probably cudgeled my brain, hoping to get answers to why he described Monty as a drunk man when I saw him with fangs, protruding veins on his face, and his long-forked tongue wanting to taste my skin.

When we reached our destination, we saw Mrs. Writingham on the porch, sitting in her rocking chair with a black cat on her lap. Adam and Gen ignored her, entering the house without greeting her, but I stayed, sitting on the top rail of the porch.

“Tough night?” Mrs. Writingham asked as she continued to rub the soft fur of her Persian black cat.

Usually, hunters would stay in a motel for the night, but San Rafael was my Dad’s hometown, and he wanted me to check and reunite with Grandma even for a short time, which was another reason why they were pissed at me. For just a week being with them, they had given me names more than the number of days I was with them.

“Indeed, Grandma,” I answered her. I turned my head to her and smiled. “Interesting, too.”

Grandma was one of the daughters of Treasures in the Order, and her parents honed her skills in becoming a good wife of a hunter. I didn’t care about it before, but after meeting Monty and seeing Raven tonight, I feared for her because the only weapon she could use was her cooking tools and kitchen utensils.

“Grandma,” I called her, and even if her eyes were closed, I knew she wasn’t really sleeping. “Don’t you like to stay with Mom and Dad? It’s safer with them.”

She smirked at me. “And what? Give up this place? I love it here, Gabrielle.”

I winced and wrinkled my nose as she called me by my first name because it sounded like she was saying my father’s name instead of mine.

“But you’re alone here,” I said, squinting my eyes in the dark. The only one giving light to the street was an old lamppost, and its light was already flickering, screaming a change of bulb was needed.

Reading my thoughts, she gazed at me. “Ever since your grandpa died, I was always alone here, and as for me, San Rafael has been the safest place,” she smiled as if remembering something amusing.

“Safest place?” I muttered, sighing at what she said.

Grandma knew about our mission here, but still, she considered this place the safest. I craned my neck at the dark sky as if millions of tiny diamonds were scattered above. There was no moon tonight, making San Rafael darker and more dangerous, but a good place for midnight outcasts to find a good meal or victim for the night.

I heaved a deep sigh, losing my confidence in becoming a good hunter like my father because during my first week on the job, I did nothing but act like a trophy wife for them. And today, I put myself in grave danger, kissing a stranger I didn’t even get the last name.

Without much thinking, I jumped from the top rail and landed gracefully on the ground. I have to know him, and while singing in the bar a while ago, I noticed how the bar owner talked to him. Thomas seemed to know him better.

“Grandma, if they looked for me, tell them I’m just checking on something,” I said, not waiting for her answer. I turned my back and headed back to the Wild Side.

The dark never scared me, and as I walked back to the bar, I could feel eyes following me but not touching me because they knew the consequence of hurting a hunter like me. Dad said it had been one of my many talents, seeing what ordinary people cannot see.

Thomas seemed not surprised to see me again and welcomed me with a warm smile as I walked toward the bar table. I sat on the bar stool as my eyes wandered, hopeful to see him.

“What can I give to the lovely lady?” he asked.

I smiled and shook my head. “Nothing, Thomas. Maybe a piece of information about the gorgeous guy sitting here a while ago.”

He chuckled, still giving me a glass of pineapple juice. “A lot of gorgeous men sat on that chair, Brielle.”

“Of course,” I faked a laugh. “The one with blue eyes.”

He recognized him right away. “Ah! Cole.”

“Just Cole? No last name?” I raised my eyebrows, showing Thomas my great interest in the guy instead of curiosity.

“Cole Kirkwood,” he answered, and his mouth curved a playful smile. “So, you met the young Kirkwood,” he nodded as if it was an impossible thing to happen.

“Do you happen to know where he lives?” I asked curiously, hoping he would give me his address, but I had no idea why I was interested in knowing where he lived.

“Nope,” he said, squinting as he shook his head, but after a minute, he pushed a little paper toward me as if giving me my receipt.

I nodded, taking the paper and seeing an address. “Thank you, Thomas.”

He shrugged, turning his back on me, looking like he was ignoring me. I tried to look disappointed while sipping my free drinks for the night. When I was done, I stood up, leaving him a tip and sliding the small paper into my pocket.

The cold wind kissed my face as soon I got out of the bar. I took the metal lighter from my pocket, burning the piece of paper Thomas gave me. As soon as I read the address, I knew right away where to find Cole Kirkwood because where he lived was the only mansion in San Rafael that was large enough that locals considered a palace.