Page 32 of Hero & Villain
“Your face doesn’t look so good.”
I grinned at him. “Good enough to be kissed.”
“You aren’t bitter? Most men would feel a little irritated after they woke up in the desert with a broken nose.”
I gently touched it. Yes, it would have to be set, but it wouldn’t be the first time, or the fifth. “There’s a slight snag in the plan.”
“Is Jezebel influencing her strangely? I knew that she’d be a problem.”
“No, I think Daniela might be having…” I didn’t want to say it. It felt like a betrayal of her confidence, but Horse wasn’t going to repeat anything I told him. He was more discreet than anyone I knew, and he did have all those degrees in psychology. “She struggles with night terrors. She tries to seduce me, but freezes up. When she isn’t thinking about it, she can’t stop touching me, looking at me, but as soon as she decides that it would be logical to make a move, she shuts down.”
“That is a problem,” he agreed.
I was irritated that he thought that was a problem because it messed up the plan instead of a problem because Danielaneeded help, but that was hypocritical of me. “You’ve seen a lot of messed-up people. What does she need?”
“And you’re only interested because you want her to perform her part of the play, not because you’re a hero,” he said with a wry smile. “Therapy. She needs therapy, maybe drugs, but most of all, a change of lifestyle. You can give her this,” he said, handing me a black card. “Musicians, good musicians, are sensitive spirits who need to be protected from the brutal realities of existence, realities she’s had shoved in her face her whole life. Selling yourself takes a toll on body and soul.”
“She wasn’t a prostitute.” Why did I want to punch Horse for suggesting that Daniela was anything other than respectable when she’d knocked me out and dumped me in the desert? I didn’t owe her anything. No, if I did owe her anything, it was reciprocation of my own diabolical scheme to match hers. The only trouble was that she didn’t seem capable of following through on her own ill intentions. She couldn’t be weak, or I’d be weak for taking advantage of her weaknesses. I ran a hand through my hair, frustrated, but also feeling more alive than I had in a long time. She was so fascinating. Soft and jagged, strong and vulnerable, like spiked cotton candy. She didn’t hold back anything, but at the same time, she couldn’t be herself at all.
He lifted the chopper off the ground and glanced at me, showing my own reflection in his dark sunglasses. “I didn’t say she was. Everyone knew what Clint was into. It takes a certain mindset to be capable of harnessing that kind of deviant. I’m saying it takes a toll.”
“Everything takes its toll.” I scowled at the view of the dusty desert southwest of Vegas. They’d picked a nice isolated spot to dump me. I’d have to thank Jezebel for that since Daniela didn’t know the terrain.
His voice was low and soothing, his late-night DJ voice. “All right. No need to get upset about it. How are the views? Are you ready to put up the next video? The performance when she’s wearing her coat has amazing stats, but the goddess of death outfit…”
“I’ve got it taken care of, making allowances for algorithms and viewer trends.” I didn’t like it. It felt like a betrayal, which it wasn’t, because she was the one who played in public. But marketing it felt wrong.
“Sure. And what do you want to do about her current reluctance to play the villain?”
“I’m not going to force her.”
“No? You could seduce her without too much effort. I don’t think you’d dislike it.”
I pulled out a stick of gum and chewed a little too vigorously. The way that she kissed me, clung to me, looked at me, made her attraction almost painfully obvious, matching mine in absolutely every way. I’d never wanted anyone like this. Kissing her was more than addictive, it felt as necessary as breathing. The fact that she’d lost her temper and knocked me out when she was supposed to be seducing me made it clear that her feelings were as sincere as mine. What a mess. I found myself grinning. She really wasn’t in control. “No. She’s got to figure out what she wants on her own.”
“She won’t be on her own. Jezebel will be influencing her.”
“That’s okay. Jez has given her permission to break my heart after the Three-Hundred.”
He laughed. “And the game is afoot.”
“You’re no Sherlock.”
“Only because I don’t snort coke.”
“Or play the violin.”
“And I have better taste in hats. Where do you want me to drop you off?”
“How close can you land to Jezebel’s property?”
“Without her shooting at me? Not close, but happily this helicopter has war-grade bulletproof glass.” He tapped the windshield.
“And that tells me all I need to know about you. You’re paranoid.”
“I’m at war with the evil minions of the earth. Tell me you don’t see Haversham shooting a rocket at you for fun.”
I grunted and closed my eyes. I needed to think. I needed to adjust the timeline of this debacle to give Daniela time to get her head on straight. To be the ice-cold Haversham heir she was born to be.
