Chosen by Fate (19 page)

He scowled. “And what the hell is that?”

“A case of gotyouby.”

“Gotyouby?” Caleb echoed.

“Yeah. As in, she’s got you by the balls, man. And good luck, cuz it doesn’t look like she’s gonna let go anytime soon.”

R
eturning to Ramsey’s nightclub now that it was dark outside was going to be a whole different experience than Wraith’s earlier visit, but not until she was actually inside. She could barely hear the music blasting inside until the door was swept open by the doorman to welcome in a limo full of well-dressed patrons. As soon as the latest arrivals were inside, the parking lot was quiet again. The only clue that something interesting was happening inside was the presence of four solemnfaced, thick-necked men positioned two on either side of the door.

Ramsey’s wasn’t the type of joint where people waited outside in line to pay a cover charge at the door. To get inside, you either had to be a member or been invited by one. Surprise drop-ins were turned away with absolutely no exceptions.

At least, Wraith thought, until tonight.

She hadn’t called ahead, and Ramsey didn’t know she was coming, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to let anyone turn her away from what she’d come for.

She was going to get a little of that forgetfulness she’d been seeking at Knox and Felicia’s wedding. She was just going to have to get it in a different way than she’d been hoping. From a different man altogether.

Keeping her strides long and loose, her hips swaying, and her features set into arrogant lines that her unnecessary shades highlighted, she strode to the door just as another group of guests was being allowed inside. As she approached, the gazes of the four security guards honed in on her immediately, sweeping her from top to bottom, their facial expressions remaining stern and intimidating. She noticed one of the female patrons, a werecat with long, blond hair, check her out. The cat turned fully toward her, not bothering to hide her interest or the low purr in her throat.

The heavy attention didn’t faze Wraith. Although she hadn’t brought it up during the team’s little powwow earlier, Dex had been right about what patrons would be expecting from Lucy at the nightclubs. Yes, they’d expect her to anticipate their touch, mostly because their skill and ability to pleasure her would be evaluated before she made her final choice. But what Dex hadn’t said, whether it was due to ignorance or something else, was that most felines didn’t limit their sexual activity to males. Most, like the werecat beside her, found females sexually stimulating. And the more unique and different their partners were, the better. In this case, Wraith was probably something new and novel, which meant she’d be all the more attractive to the female werecat.

That was something she could use.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the closest security guard move toward her. Smoothly, she turned her gaze on the female werecat and smiled. The cat’s eyes widened before she returned Wraith’s smile, prompting Wraith to walk up to her, close enough that their arms brushed.

“What’s your name, wraith?” The way the security guard asked, it was apparent he was only covering his ass. Unless another wraith had been cleared for entry, he’d know she wasn’t on the list, and while it was quite common for wraiths to frequent clubs like this one, their small numbers made it unlikely that one would be here tonight. The way he flexed his shoulders, as if preparing himself for battle, told her that, as well.

Instead of answering, she smiled once more at the female cat, whose nose crinkled in delight. The werecat gazed at the guard, looking him up and down like she couldn’t wait to eat him up . . . as soon as she was through with Wraith. “It’s okay, Andre, she’s with me. It was a . . . spontaneous invitation, and I didn’t have time to call ahead . . .”

Andre was already shaking his head, a frown overtaking his features. “I’m sorry, Linea. No one gets in without being cleared, you know that.”

With only minimal hesitation, Wraith reached out and placed her hand on Linea’s bare shoulder. The cat’s eyes widened and jumped back to Wraith’s, then she licked her lips and pouted prettily at Andre. “Andre, darling, you know I’m a rule follower. Just this one time, can’t you give me some slack?”

Andre smiled indulgently. “No,” he said, the smile still on his lips.

With another glance at Wraith, Linea walked toward Andre so that Wraith’s hand slipped off her shoulder. Instinctively, she knew the woman wasn’t through trying to persuade the man to get what she wanted. No werecat would give up that easily.

Patiently, Wraith waited while the werecat rubbed her body against the guard, her left hand dropping to cup his dick through the placket of his pants. She whispered in his ear, and the longer she did so, the more flushed the man became. When she pulled away, she gave his dick a final squeeze that made a shudder run visibly through his body. He was breathing hard, his eyes glazed over, his mouth practically drooling. Casually, Linea turned and scanned the other three guards who were trying hard not to appear as if they were watching. Then she said the magic words, “And that goes for all of you. If you’ll do me this one little favor. So how about it?”

The three men looked at Andre questioningly.

Several seconds passed. Wraith was beginning to wonder if she’d have to fight her way in after all, but then Andre nodded quickly. Linea beamed at him and patted his cheek. “Thank you, darling. I’ll see you and your friends a little later.” She looked at Wraith and waved her hand. “Shall we?”

Wraith preceded her into the club.

Even though she knew what to expect, even though she’d braced herself, it was a shock to her system. The pulsing music that repeatedly hit her body like a punch. The flash of bright lights only slightly dimmed by her sunglasses.

She took in the swarm of human flesh displayed in tight, shimmery spandex and soft leather. Many women wore see-through shirts with nothing on underneath. Bodies gyrated against one another in an undulating, primitive rhythm closely resembling sex. On the fringes of the dance floor, bodies were literally engaged in different acts. Different positions. Different pain thresholds.

Adding to Wraith’s disorientation was the feel of Linea’s hand caressing her back through her jacket and dropping to her ass. Swiftly but almost casually, Wraith grabbed her wrist and pulled the cat closer. “That was impressive. Thank you.”

Linea smiled. “Don’t thank me yet, darling. I’m expecting repayment.”

“It’s not going to be sexual repayment,” Wraith said, bracing herself for the werecat’s fangs and claws to make an appearance. Instead, the female shrugged so nonchalantly that Wraith, surprised, let go of her.

“Don’t look so shocked, darling. Any idiot can tell you haven’t been trained in the art of feminine love. Too bad. If you’d reconsider . . .”

Wraith narrowed her eyes at her. “Then, non-idiot that you obviously are, why’d you help me get in here?”

Linea snorted. “Because you looked like you’d make things interesting. I love Ramsey’s, but I must admit, the past few times I’ve been here have proven to be a bit boring.”

“And maybe you needed an excuse to get together with the security guard out back? And his friends, too?”

A flicker of surprise washed over Linea’s face.

It was Wraith’s turn to snort. “You like him. I could tell even before you checked me out.” She also knew that while werecats were unapologetically sexual creatures, they were also very bound by societal expectations, and those expectations wouldn’t approve of a high-class werecat like Linea sleeping with hired muscle. At least not without a reason.

“I’ll back you up, of course,” Wraith said. “If anyone asks. It always helps to have allies. Even a cat.”

Linea nodded. “Yes, I could tell even when you touched me that it was a hard thing for you to do. Someday maybe we’ll meet again, and you can tell me what you find so offensive about my kind.”

“Maybe,” Wraith simply said before turning away. When she did, there was Ramsey, waiting patiently for her, a small smile on his lips.

“Wraith,” he said smoothly. Walking up to her, he bent low and whispered in her ear. “Naughty Wraith. Did you come to grill me about the feline rape again? I told you before, after you so delicately threatened to make this place the new Bureau hangout, that I thought you were being played.”

Yes, that’s what he’d told her. He’d also told her that the feline female who’d been allegedly raped after going out back to smoke a cigarette had been a regular, one who was careful about who she talked to and knew better than to wander outside by herself. But Wraith had seen the video from Ramsey’s security camera, and it had showed her resisting her attacker—a tall, stocky man wearing dark clothes and a ski mask. Wraith had dismissed Ramsey’s speculation that the feline raped in his club had fabricated the attack, but she still should have reported Ramsey’s statement to Mahone. She hadn’t. She’d told herself it was because, given the evidence, it would unnecessarily muddy the waters. But she also knew she’d done it to protect herself, because she hadn’t wanted Mahone or anyone else on the team to think she or Ramsey, a man she had a history with, were making accusations against the felines because of her past. She hadn’t wanted them to think Ramsey was a biased witness due to their history, but right now she was hoping he was indeed biased toward her. Or at the very least, that he wanted to repeat their history.

As Ramsey looked at her expectantly, Wraith shook her head. “I’m not here on business, Ramsey.”

That seemed to give him pause. He glanced toward the front entrance and frowned. “How’d you get in, anyway? The cat helped you, perhaps?” He glanced meaningfully at Linea, who caught Wraith’s gaze and waved flirtatiously at her.

Wraith shrugged. “It doesn’t matter how I got in here, does it? It matters why I’m here. And what I want.” She hesitated, then swallowed hard as she remembered the scene a few hours earlier with Lucy. With her whole team. Knowledge in every one of their eyes. Knowledge that she and Lucy wanted the same thing, and that, of the two of them, Lucy was the one who should have it. “What I want you to do to me. Or am I wrong, Ramsey?” she whispered, allowing herself to drop her defenses and let Ramsey, a man who’d once been her friend and protector, see how desperately she needed him. And how, for some measure in time, she needed to feel pain the way anyone would if touched a certain way. Pain in a certain context was appropriate. It was expected.

It was normal.

His eyes softened, and he shook his head. “No, Wraith. You’re not wrong at all. Come with me.”

 

Back at the hotel, Caleb had given up on pacing and had settled into bed. He tried shutting out his worry about Wraith, but it was going to take more than his own willpower to do that. Closing his eyes, he relaxed back into the fresh sheets and began the meditation ritual that would loosen his muscles and allow his mind to fall into a sleeping trance. The rest would give him more energy, and he’d come out of it refreshed, as if he’d actually slept through the night when he knew he probably wouldn’t. Then he’d be better prepared to face Wraith.

When he slipped into peace, it was something he was completely aware of. It wasn’t like losing consciousness, but rather like stepping into a place where his consciousness was heightened exponentially. The feel of the sheets on his skin was a heavy but pleasant weight, the sound of his breaths a deep, solid noise that surrounded him. He was even aware of the blood coursing through his veins, the way it felt and sounded and smelled.

It was like this when he was healing, too. His body ultrareceptive to sensation, both his own and any person he was linked with.

He’d never tranced himself during sex, at least not sex with someone else, although he’d heard the effect of doing so was mind-blowing. But he’d never given into the craving, not feeling comfortable with the idea that the moment he entered a woman’s body, he would experience not only his own feelings, but also hers. He’d heard of shamans who’d gotten addicted to it. Abused their power. Used it so much that they lost touch of what was reality and what wasn’t. Actually went crazy.

The vision came upon him before he could sense its approach. His instant thought was that he was glad he was alone in his hotel room, because while he was fully aware during a vision, just like he was in a trance, the difference was that he couldn’t necessarily control his reaction to the vision. Whether it was physical or verbal—like the time he’d had the vision of Felicia in Korea and had yelled out her name despite the armed guards they were trying to steer clear of—his ability to monitor himself lessened. Visions weren’t innocuous. Sometimes they were confusing. Riddles. But when they involved danger, danger to someone he knew, his emotions became the primary thing he reacted to. With Felicia, he’d felt the need to shout out, to notify Knox that Felicia was in danger so he could get to her.

Quickly, he sensed this vision was about Wraith. He didn’t know how, since he wasn’t seeing her, but he knew. Her scent surrounded him, and all of his muscles tightened.

He saw a brick building. Heard music. Saw shadows of writhing bodies. He navigated by them unnoticed, like a wraith himself, carried by the hands of his ancestors. He knew some of what he saw wasn’t an exact replica of reality, but it was good enough that he knew Wraith was at a club. Instinctively, he knew the club belonged to the man called Ramsey.

He reached farther for her with his mind and his speed picked up. Climbing stairs. Winding down a hallway where he passed several closed doors. As he did, he knew what was happening inside of them and his consciousness faltered, almost breaking the link as images of blood and bondage overwhelmed him, spurring his own memories from the War. Frantically, he called out to his ancestors for help, and they steadied him, bringing him to face a door.

He knew Wraith was inside. Even though he’d never been to this club, it was as if he had. As if his consciousness was burned with the same knowledge that had been burned into Wraith’s when she’d walked to this room.