Blood Price (5 page)

“Yes.” It was like being a virgin again. Others had tasted her pussy but none she would have chosen for herself. No man had ever ventured between her thighs. In fact, she was a virgin, technically. The physical barrier was long gone but no man’s cock had ever filled her pussy. Her stomach churned with excitement and a little fear when his mouth went lower.

His tongue outlined her lips without straying inside. She squirmed under the light touch and once again tested the handcuffs. They held fast but the bed slats groaned again and she thought she heard a splintering sound before Atar’s tongue distracted her by dipping into her pussy, to probe her opening. “Higher,” she managed to say through clenched teeth. She needed his mouth on her clit, stoking the fire building inside her. His teasing touches were driving her insane.

He lifted his head briefly. “Maybe.”

She groaned with frustration. The annoyance didn’t abate when his tongue returned to her pussy, as he once again moved his tongue in a line down one of her lips, paused to flick the tip into her opening and then worked his way back up the other lip. Her body shook with the force of her need, and anger stirred at the callous way he tormented her. “Haven’t you gotten your revenge yet?”

His mouth stilled and he hesitated. Finally, Atar looked up. “No. I’m enjoying drawing this out.” He cupped her pussy with his hand before meeting her eyes. “Your slick pussy tells me you’re enjoying it too.” His pinkie dipped inside, to brush against her clit. “Or is your pussy lying?”

She glared at him but didn’t bother with a verbal answer. What could she say? It was impossible to deny the physical proof of her arousal. His touch made her burn but his slow, teasing pace was what had her protesting. Why couldn’t he shed his clothes and fuck her until they were both mindless? It was clear that was what they each wanted. “Why draw this out? You know you can have me. I’m at your mercy, so take me. Fuck me.”

His brow furrowed. “It doesn’t sit well, having you at my mercy.” With a sigh, he withdrew his hand.

By the look on his face and the way he seemed to draw into himself, she could see he had finished tormenting her. Her stomach dropped, because it appeared that he was finished, in general, as he got to his feet. “What are you doing?”

“I thought I could do this.” He paced the narrow area between the two beds, running a hand through his disheveled hair. He paused to stare down at her. “I told myself you deserved whatever I did to you.”

She licked her lips. “Maybe that’s true.”

One side of his mouth quirked. “Probably, but it doesn’t matter. Call it rape or forced seduction—neither sits well with me.”

She swallowed a lump in her throat, surprised by how his rejection hurt. “Don’t you want me?”

He hesitated, and it seemed as though he wouldn’t answer. Finally, as he resumed pacing, with his back to her, he said, “I don’t know. I can’t tell what I want and what you put in my head. My body’s throbbing for you but my brain can’t sort it all out.”

She closed her eyes, giving up. What could she do in the situation? If she begged him for sex, he might comply but would likely be even more mistrustful of her in the morning. Atar would probably think she had forced him to fuck her, hoping to gain his compliance.

And she needed his help. She didn’t think she would be able to escape from him again and her time was running out. If she couldn’t convince him to take her to her grandmother’s people, either she would die in Corsova for her mother’s crimes or Illiana would once again take over her body. She couldn’t allow that. Even death was a better option.

She still held a shred of hope that Atar would listen to her. It was the only hope of which she had to cling.

Chapter 5

Two hours later, the ache in her pussy, from not receiving fulfillment, throbbed in concert with the migraine building in her head when Nikia accompanied Atar out of a taxi that had ferried them to Rome’s Leonardo da Vinci airport. His hand fell on her upper arm and she looked up at him.

He drew her to the side of the building, out of the flow of traffic. “It would be much simpler if I can remove your handcuffs. It will be less hassle all the way around but I’m reluctant to do so.” His eyes bored into hers. “I don’t know if I can trust you.”

She resisted the urge to beg. “I swear I won’t try to escape.” She had committed to returning to Corsova, if that’s what it took to stop Illiana and she meant to do so. She still felt her best hope lay in Belarus but persuading Atar of that was proving impossible.

Atar’s eyes assessed her for another half-minute before he reached into his pocket to remove the key. He lifted the jacket from her arms that he had used to conceal the cuffs and unlocked them.

She flexed her wrists, enjoying the freedom. In the hotel room, he had removed them just long enough for her to shower and dress, before replacing them with her hands cuffed in front of her. She rubbed each wrist in turn while Atar slipped the cuffs into a side pocket of his carryon.

When he stood up again, he put his arm through hers, drawing her close to his side. “Don’t make me regret extending you a margin of trust, Nikia.”

She nodded, disconcerted at the way she mentally squirmed away from disappointing him.

They proceeded through check-in with little trouble, other than a twenty-minute wait in the line. At the security station, a clerk searched and x-rayed their carryon bags. Nikia barely bit back an embarrassed laugh when the young man removed the handcuffs from the side-pocket before hastily stuffing them back in. From the way his ears turned pink and the look he gave both of them, it was clear he inferred the cuffs were used in some kinky sexual practice.

A blush warmed her cheeks when she realized the young man wasn’t far off the mark. Both times she had worn them, she had ended up shackled to a bed. Her body reacted to the memory predictably enough. She tried to ignore the twinge shooting through her pussy as she followed Atar onto the plane.

Soon, they sat in the middle of the plane. The smallish seats forced a level of imposed intimacy he probably wasn’t comfortable with and one she shouldn’t have welcomed the way she did. Nikia shifted in the seat, bringing her knee against his. She pretended not to see the look he shot her. The view of the tarmac drew her gaze and she watched employees scurrying about in the bright afternoon sun. It seared her eyes and increased the aching in her head. With a sigh, she turned away, resting her head against the seat, with her eyes closed.

A few minutes later, the flight attendant went through the safety protocol. Nikia tuned it out after fastening her seatbelt. Her head pounded vigorously now and she swore she could hear her mother whispering in the back of her mind, although the words were gibberish.

She kept her eyes closed and tried to ignore the pain as the plane taxied down the runway. Her stomach jolted with nausea when the plane went airborne and she tightened her hands into fists. The migraine wasn’t responding to her attempts at relaxation. Relief swept through her when an attendant stopped by their seat a few minutes later to ask if they wanted a drink. “Bottled water and Tylenol, please.”

She looked at Atar when the attendant left them. “What?”

He frowned, and his expression bespoke concern. “You’re pale and trembling. Are you afraid of flying?”

She shook her head, regretting the movement when pain flared at the base of her neck and traveled down her spine. “No. Migraine.” It was an effort to speak and even more of an effort to accept the water and package of tablets the woman brought her.

Atar must have sensed her weakness, because he took the water and opened the cap. Nikia fumbled open the packaging to free the tablets. She popped them in her mouth and gave him a grateful look when he held the bottle for her so she could drink. He still appeared concerned but there was a hint of suspicion in his gaze. It saddened her that he couldn’t get beyond his distrust of her, despite his desire for her.

She leaned back again, closing her eyes. The whisper had increased in pitch, audibly filling her mind.

He doesn’t trust you because you can’t be trusted.

She resisted the urge to scream her response aloud. It struck her as insane to be having the conversation in her mind but at least no one else was aware of what was happening.
You’re the one who can’t be trusted.

The laugh she had grown to hate filled her mind.

How right you are, dear daughter but no one else believes you.

I don’t care.

Aren’t you tired of the struggle?

Lead weights imprisoned Nikia’s eyes. She couldn’t open her eyelids when she tried.
Yes.
She heard the weakness in her mental reply simultaneously with feeling Illiana’s surge of strength.

Then surrender. Sleep, Nikia. Rest and rid yourself of this burden. When you awaken, all will be as it should.

Sleep slipped over Nikia, bringing with it a sense of freedom and weightlessness. She floated on a dark cloud of worry-free joy, letting her troubles slip away. It would be much easier to give in. She was so tired of fighting, knowing she would lose. It was time to stop resisting….

“Nikia?” Atar’s hand brushed against her forehead and his voice was low, meant only for her ears. “Can you hear me? Are you asleep?”

A glimpse of light appeared in the darkness surrounding her. She no longer felt free and weightless. Instead, the shadows seemed to be closing around her, with their weight crushing her. She couldn’t draw a deep breath.

“Nikia?” The concern in his tone brought more light to the black void where she hovered. The entire world trembled when Atar shook her shoulder. Nikia reached out for his hand but seemed to be encased in molasses. She moved much too slowly to make the connection.

Give up!
Illiana’s shriek echoed through her mind. Gone was the seductive, soothing tone she had used to lull Nikia into this trancelike state.
You can’t win.

But she wasn’t ready to concede defeat. The fight was futile but all she needed to do was buy time. In a flash of clarity, she knew she wouldn’t meekly return to Corsova and accept punishment for her mother’s crimes. She had to get to Belarus. She owed herself a chance at life. Whatever it took, she had to go there.

Nikia struggled against the essence imprisoning her, whimpering. When Illiana tried to force her way into her mind, Nikia lashed out at her. Her newfound conviction aided her in attempting to repel her mother, giving her new strength.

She cried out when Illiana tried again, shaking her body with the force of her efforts. Nikia wasn’t sure what was reality and what was a trick imposed by her mother. Her body trembled under the onslaught and she reached out for Atar. Her hand closed around his, bringing a renewed sense of order. As Illiana tried once more, she repelled her with a shred of strength she summoned from a hidden reserve.

She was weak and exhausted. Tremors still coursed through her and darkness tried to enshroud her. Cautiously, Nikia tested the blackness to see if Illiana’s presence lurked inside, waiting to consume her. She found nothing but tranquility and allowed herself to surrender to unconsciousness.

* * * * *

Atar stared in dismay as Nikia collapsed forward in her seat. Convulsions shook her body and he reached out for her without thought. She nestled into his arms as though made to fit there but the tremors racked through her just the same. She murmured something but he couldn’t make out what she said. He leaned forward, trying to make out her words and recoiled when they clarified.

“Atar,” she said repeatedly, thrashing in his arms. It was almost as if she was trying to free herself from bonds he couldn’t see.

He jumped with surprise when the flight attendant touched his arm. He looked up at her, knowing her frightened gaze mirrored his.

“
Signor
, shall I ask the pilot to return us to da Vinci?”

He hesitated, torn between the need to return Nikia to Corsova as quickly as possible, before doing something crazy like taking her to bed and the need to ensure her safety. “I…”

As his silence lapsed, her trembling subsided. He looked down again, brushing the hair off her forehead. Her pallor alarmed him but she lay quietly now, appearing to be asleep, rather than in the throes of a seizure. “No, she’s fine now.”

The dark-haired attendant’s uncertainty was blatant in her expression. “Are you convinced?”

He nodded, brushing aside the hint of impatience she inspired. He wanted to be alone with Nikia, not have the girl hovering over him. “Yes. I’ll let you know if we require assistance.”

With a soft sound expressing her disapproval, the girl turned away to the next aisle, leaving Atar staring down at the woman in his arms.

Her cinnamon-brown hair was a ragged slash across her forehead, falling back into place each time he brushed it aside. Dark smudges under her eyes betrayed lack of rest, as did the lines crimping the corners of her mouth.

He traced the contours of her lips with his eyes and then followed them with the pad of his thumb. A sigh escaped her and her breath fanned over his digit, sending flutters of desire shooting through him. He shifted his position, trying to ease the pressure of his cock when it swelled against the confines of his jeans.

He should put her back in her seat. It was wrong to clasp her this way, to allow himself to feel aroused by her presence, when she was unconscious. Still, he couldn’t seem to relinquish his hold.

Atar stroked the softness of her cheek, once again turning over in his mind the picture of the woman she was supposed to be, compared to the one he had seen during his pursuit. The two images didn’t mesh. Could there be any truth to her assertion that Illiana had possessed her? Was he denying the real Nikia a chance at a normal life by not taking her to Belarus, as she had begged him to do? Was he taking an innocent woman back to the Protector to face life imprisonment or death?

Nikia’s body relaxed completely when she slipped into a deep sleep, causing her to curl closer. Unconsciously, he tightened his grip on her. His body had decided he couldn’t let her go, even as his mind wrestled with indecision.

She twitched in his embrace and he called her name. Concern filled him when another tremor ran through her and he barely bit back a gasp when her eyes snapped open. They weren’t the green he was accustomed to. Instead, dark pools of matte coal burned from her pale face. Her lips twisted into a grotesque parody of a smile. “Hunter to prey, die today.” The voice was haggard and raw but rich with malevolence.

Immediately, her eyes closed again and her body relaxed. Sweat poured down Atar’s body as he tried to convince himself it hadn’t happened. It must have been a trick of the light. No, that didn’t explain the strange voice or words.

What if it had happened? What did it prove? Was Nikia truly under the possession of another or had she picked up on his confusion and used it to further her charade? Was any of it real or was she deceiving him?

How could he trust Nikia, knowing what he did about her? His heart might be weak but his mind was not. Everything she had revealed might be true or it might be trickery. How could he follow his heart’s urgings and possibly allow a killer to walk free?

With gentle but efficient, movements, Atar returned Nikia to her seat. Mulling it over, he watched her sleep—or pretend to, if she was acting for his benefit. In the end, he could come to no decision, save one. He must maintain a distance between them during the rest of their journey together. When he brought her back to Corsova, he would relate what he knew to the queen and let her make the decision about Nikia’s fate.