Page 15 of Under a Wicked Moon
With a pinch in his brow, he grumbled, “No, we’re not.”
“Why not? Don’t you want to be pie buddies? Why are you getting grumpy on me?”
He threw his head back to rest against the wall and stared at the ceiling. “We can’t be pie buddies. Don’t make me like you more, Vivi. It’s dangerous.”
She sat up straighter, working hard to suppress her grin. “Okay, pie buddy, do you have a girlfriend or mate?” Maybe it was why he resisted her so easily.
“Relationships aren’t for me.”
“Why? Because of that?” She pointed at his left wrist. “I’m pretty sure it’s a curse band.”
“Yeah.” He massaged his wrist around the band. “Outside, I’m imprisoned in a different way. I have more free choice in my personal decisions than in here, but I must answer to someone who dictates my life. I’m not allowed to get attached, but when you meet someone genuine, it’s hard not to form an attachment.”
His eyes darted her way and silently communicated:I’m talking about you.
The thrill his stare gave her was dangerous. She needed to resist his allure, but it was so difficult when he looked at her with his eyes soft, not their usual hardness.
She said, “If I could, I’d undo that magic for you, but even from across the room I can feel it’s something wicked.”
“It is what it is.”
“What do your curse masters make you do?”
“I’m sent on missions with my brothers to kill inhuman terrorists. We’re very good at what we do. As in we never fail. Failure means death. Since I’m still alive, I haven’t failed yet.”
Now the protective tattoos made sense.
“You’re a paranormal assassin?” It should scare her to confirmhim a killer, but the mash-up of killer assassin who cooked tarts and was frustrated by latticework on a piecrust almost had her dissolving into giggles again. “Who cooks.”
…
Hours later, the instinct to be with Vivi overwhelmed him to the point of compulsion. Yet his conscience prickled deep enough to keep him in his place on the floor. He fantasized drawing her nipples into his mouth. He imagined running his hands over her breasts and down her stomach where he’d marvel at all her divots and curves. She was so much smaller than him, but he’d felt how toned her muscles were. He loved that strength. He wanted to put his mouth on her center and draw her out until she released with pleasure.
He wanted her like crazy. To the point he felt dizzy from denying himself.
His precise hearing picked up the muffledbeep-beepof a security door being unlocked up the hall. There were light footsteps. One set of shoes. For endless minutes, he listened. No others moving about. Skeleton staff. Now was his moment. All he needed was to get to a computer. Get the information on what went on here, get this collar off, and leave. Simple.
He wondered if he’d tried to escape this way before but forgotten. It bothered him, but he had no choice but to try. Even if he had done it before, maybe this time he’d get farther. Maybe even to freedom, at least to a computer.
He stretched his legs and stood. The few steps to the door didn’t rock his equilibrium. He flashed her a get-ready-for-it smile.
Time to use telekinesis. The evil spirit that tried to occupy his mind may have been forced out, but while there, it opened up segments of his brain that allowed him to do things like move objects with his mind. His brothers knew he had this capability,but they’d kept it secret from his handler and the monarch. The less they knew about them, the less likely they were to capitalize on their abilities for some use the brothers didn’t want.
Hand near but not on the door, he used his mind to slide the deadbolts. With two clicks, the door was unlocked. This felt familiar. An eerie sense of foreboding flooded him, as if he’d tried this before and failed miserably. “Is the door alarmed?”
Déjàvu aside, he had to try. Quitting wasn’t in his DNA.
She shook her head. “Not usually. But this is a new place. I don’t know.”
He focused to turn the knob and open it without touching. Then used the bottle that dinner came in to quickly push it open farther. Nothing rushed to attack them. His collar didn’t detonate.
He had a strong feelingthishadn’t happened before. He had never made it this far.
Moment of truth. Either the collar was set to fry him like a toaster tossed in water as he passed through the doorway, or it activated only if he actually touched the door. Two deep breaths, one bare foot through. Nothing.
Weird. He’d think the whole doorway would activate it. He also thought someone would be charged with watching them like a hawk during full-moon night. This might be a trap.
With a finger over his lips, he signaled for Vivi to follow. He peeked into the window of several other prison doors, careful not to touch the doors, but found no one else. At the end of the hall, he paused before the last door. Agony smacked him like an almost palpable force. Lycans had been tortured and died in there. He sensed their pain and smelled their deaths. No window on this one.
