Collateral Damage (26 page)

that hatred shadows every thought you have of him. You were a little girl, and he didn't protect you. He cared more about his own pain than yours—"

"He was sick."

"He stopped taking his medication so he could drink himself numb every night."

"Stop that!" I wrenched my hands free and covered my mouth with them. "If I wanted you to know about that, I'd tell you. I don't pry into what Cyrus did to you. It's obvious he's raped you, but I figured if you wanted to talk about it, you'd bring it up, not me."

"You just brought it up." He folded his legs in front of him so he was facing me and leaned forward. "With everything that's happened between us, do you think secrets are acceptable? Do you think I want you looking at me with pity because of whatever you imagine happened?"

I tugged at my bottom lip with my teeth. Then shook my head. "No. I guess not."

"As long as your questions are asked in a respectful manner, Nicole, I will always do my best to answer them." He reached up to smooth my hair away from my face and tuck it behind my ear. "I need your trust to be as real as your submission."

"Okay." I gave him a hesitant smile, feeling like we'd taken another step together.

Not that I wanted to talk about my parents, but I would if it helped me get to know him better. And, anyway, nothing I'd gone through compared to what he'd gone through.

"I'll answer your questions too, just . . . well, ask them, okay? Don't just fish the answers you want out of my head."

"Agreed." He traced my jaw line with a finger, a featherlight touched that quickened my pulse. "Why do you want to know about my 'rape'?"

"Why do you want to know about mine?"

His lips quirked. "Because I'm not at liberty to request a list of limits from you.

The more information I have, the easier it is to work around your triggers." He inclined his head. "Your turn."

I didn't need to ask "For what?"

"Why do you act as though it wasn't rape? Did you want Cyrus to—?"

"No." The word was snapped out, full of anger, that one word which is never heard when you’re a victim. Then he cleared his throat. "But I wasn't strong enough to stop him. He told me if I could, he would never touch me again. It took me ten years, but eventually I gained the strength. And he kept his word."

"But he didn't . . . he—"

"I betrayed him. He has no reason to honor an agreement with a traitor."

"What did you do?" I glanced around and then moved closer to him. "Lacy told me about the hunters. Does it have something to do with them? Did you contact them?

Are they coming?"

"If they were coming, they'd be here by now." Vince shook his head. "I told the truth when I said I did nothing. I'm sorry to disappoint you."

I was disappointed. Where was all the trust? Or was I just supposed to trust him?

He's told you a lot. Think about it, you have to go back to Cyrus, and so does he. If he
tells you . . . .

"How old were you?"

"When I came to be with Cyrus?" He frowned. "I've already told you—"

"I mean when he . . . ." I was almost ashamed to ask. It was cruel. But I needed to know how much time Alrik had.

"Sixteen." His tone lost all inflection. "My teacher—the one I'd convinced myself I was in love with—came to my room one night. She had a bloody lip, and she was crying. When she told me what Cyrus had done to her, I—" He let out a dead laugh and continued. "I kissed her and told her to wait for me. And I went to confront him. He wasted no time showing me my place."

"She's the one he used against you?"

"Yes. To save her from pain and abuse, I . . . ." His throat worked as he swallowed. "I did many things. It took me a long time to face the fact that I wasn't saving her at all. I was only proving that I wasn't man enough to keep her. So I stopped.

Managed to sever any feelings I had--for her and anything else. Cyrus and the other guards did horrible things to her, trying to get a reaction from me. When nothing worked, Cyrus killed her. And things changed. He finally let me join the guards."

"How long have you been a guard?"

"Five years." He shook his head and smiled a little. "I'm thirty-one. Cyrus kept Monique for ten years. I've spent about three years in total traveling. I've been immortal for two years."

"Two years?" My brow furrowed. He really didn't seem that new to being . . .

other than human. "But I thought—"

"Since I've been immortal, Nicole. When I lost my innocence, I gained something else." Chin propped on a fist, he regarded me with profound interest. "Speaking of which, I can't help but notice your blood has cooled and you haven't gone wild with desire."

Very true
. The drug didn't seem to be affecting me anymore. But the heat in his eyes was. With an internal shrug, I reached for the top button of my shirt. "We can still—"

"You've gotten a few freebies—stop with the buttons, Nicole. If I want them undone, I'll undo them." He kept going without a pause. "Is it safe to assume you'd rather not talk about your mother?"

My thumb made quick, little circles on my index finger. "Yes."

"Then I have only one thing I'd like to know. One thing I still haven't figured out." His head tilted. "I can see you finding an escape in books. But why numbers? Why do they comfort you?"

"Sudoku."

"Sudoku?"

"Well, math puzzles . . . the Sudoku came later. I used to sit in my father's office when my mom had one of her episodes, listening to him whispering numbers under his breath. After doing a few puzzles, he'd be all calm, and he'd have me join him at his desk and do one with him. He used to say numbers were the only stable things in the world." I smiled at the memory. "He'd kid that you could always count on them. I thought that was the funny as hell when I was five."

"You loved him very much."

"You just finished telling me I hated him."

"You hate him now. But you did love him," Vince said. "It's okay to feel both, you know. Love who he was, hate what he did."

"I know that." I forced my smile to stay in place. "Actually, that's how I feel about you."

His brows shot up. "Is it?"

"Uh huh." I grinned, pleased that I'd caught him off guard. "More the former than the latter lately, only is, not was. And I have a hard time remembering why I hated you at all."

Eyes hooded, he hooked his hands under my knees and spread my thighs. "Shall I remind you?"

"Please do." I lay back on the quilt, enjoying the pleasant warmth of anticipation.

Much easier to handle than the blazing need from before. "I promise not to fight too much."

He chuckled and bowed to press a soft kiss on my bare thigh. "You promise do you?"

My eyes fluttered shut. "Mmmhmm."

"Remember that." He said before slapping where he'd kissed.

The sting made my thighs clench and my hips jerk. I glared at him and struggled to sit up. "Hey!"

"Yes?" He watched me with a hand on my stomach, holding me down until I gave up and slumped back. Then he covered my pussy with his mouth. His tongue lapped at my moist folds, and I groaned at the sensation of his cool breath spilling over me. He slid his hands under my ass, squeezing and lifting me up as he licked and sucked.

My hands had remained at my sides out of habit, but as my control slipped they found their way to his hair. I grasped at the surprisingly soft strands, urging him on, slipping into the pure, tranquil bliss of pleasure. He eased me up gently, taking his time, forcing me to do the same. As I reached the brink, he changed the pressure, adding his fingers in a smooth deep thrust.

My whole body drank in the feeling. It wasn't a powerful, mind-blowing orgasm.

It was satisfaction. A full course of decadence.

And it wasn't over.

Vince rose up and held out his hand. "Come here, Nicole."

I went to him, knowing exactly what he wanted without having to be told. He stretched out on the makeshift bed, and I slid over him, claiming his lips as he positioned himself between my thighs. He let out a low growl as I eased down. With his solid length imbedded deep, I slowly rocked my hips, gradually taking more and more.

He let out a gruff sound. "Yes. Just like that, pet. Show me what you'll do with this control I've given you."

Brushing my lips over his jaw, I whispered. "I don't know what to do with it, Master. I've enjoyed it being yours for too long."

"It's still mine, love." He latched onto my hips and drove me down hard. "As are you."

The muscles in my cunt clenched. His claim on me felt like he'd somehow grown to fill me completely. As though he'd reached in to touch a new part of me. One that hadn't been there before. All that remained between us was the shirt. And he removed that as well.

We moved together, kissing and clinging, bodies pressed together, slippery with my sweat. The scent of me covered us both, musky and sweet. I tasted myself on his lips and realized, in a way, I'd claimed him, too.

Cupping his face in my hands, I undulated faster while sucking his bottom lip to savor our flavor. Then I smiled and purred. "Mine."

"Always." He raked his fingers into my hair and thrust up, groaning. "Always."

He came before I did, but he didn't stop until I joined him. The intensity of my orgasm arched my back, and he held me together as I trembled and screamed. There were tears in my eyes. At some point, I had bitten through my lip.

But I'd never felt so wonderful. I cuddled up beside him, sated, unable to grasp how happy I was. We'd gotten a reprieve, but reality was out there, waiting for us.

Screw that. It can wait.
I latched on to peace and shut everything else out.
We
deserve a break.

"Yes we do." Vince pulled me closer and kissed my forehead. "And I will get us to a place where it will last, my love. I don't know when, but I swear, one day, I'll get us there."

Much as I wanted to believe him, I found it hard. Who could say what would happen once we left here?

Hours later, he made love to me again. It was then I realized leaving here didn't matter. Because this was something we had that couldn't be taken away. Something we could hold on to.

Whatever came next.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Scrape, scrape, scrape.
A sound like a great, big pencil being sharpened with a knife dragged me from sleep. I rubbed my eyes and rolled over to see Vince, cross-legged on the floor, making what looked like a spear.

"I hope you're well rested?" He glanced up without pausing his steady strokes.

"There are still nine of them out there. I don't imagine getting to the house will be easy."

"Probably not." I tugged a quilt up to my chin and drew my knees to my chest.

"So what's the plan? Are we going to kill them?"

"I will kill them if I must." Setting the spear aside, he stood and went to his shelves to fetch a palm-sized stone. Then he proceeded to whet the blade in his hand.

"You will run."

He's got to be kidding.
"I will not. Have you forgotten that I killed three? By myself?"

"They were drugged and drunk."

"Which you said wouldn't make
you
weak enough for me to beat you." Such a stupid thing to butt heads on, but, hell, I deserved some credit! "You were obviously wrong."

He slammed the knife and stone on the shelves and then strode up to me. Fists clenched at his sides, he looked like he very much wanted to use violence to shut me up. But he kept his cool. "I was not wrong. With my training, being inebriated wouldn't give you an advantage. They are rich and pampered. They weren't expecting you, and you got lucky. Don't mistake my gratitude for approval, Nicole. What you did was reckless. But I wasn't around to stop you. I am now."

"If you think I'm going to run off and let you face them alone, you're crazy." I wrapped the blanket around me and then slid off the bed. Holding the blanket with one hand, I poked him in the chest. "You've got a plan? Include me. I didn't come all the way out here just to leave you when things got scary."

"Scary?" He grabbed my shoulders and shook me. "What's scary is the thought of trying to fight them with you in danger. Do you know what they'll do with whatever's left of you? After how you reacted last night, I'm sure you've got a pretty good idea.

Cyrus may be twisted, but his methods are calculated. As long as you have value, he'll toy with your body and mind, but he'll leave you whole. They'll destroy you."

"And what will they do to you?" I put my hands on his forearms, vision blurring as my feeble arguments fell apart. "Do you think I can take off without looking back knowing you might die out here?"

The anger seeped out of him, and his harsh expression softened. He hugged me and whispered. "You'll have to be stronger than you've ever been before, my love. It would tear me apart to have to leave you—don't think it wouldn't. But one of us has to make it back for Alrik. If nothing else, I can give you the time you need to do so."

"What good will I be to him without you?" I pressed my forehead against his chest, damned proud that I managed not to cry. Because I wanted to. I wanted to scream and sob and use my tears to change his mind. But I wouldn't. Because he'd asked me to be strong, and he was right. Only . . . . "What if I end up like your teacher?

I've already proved I'm no better than her . . . with Cyrus—"

"Don't you get it? Cyrus had to compel you to be with him. He doesn't usually enjoy doing that; he'd rather use force or manipulation, but he enjoyed it because of my reaction." Letting out a heavy sigh, he gently set me away from him. "Give Cyrus a challenge, perform well for the crowds, and you'll be around long enough to make Alrik into the man we both know he can be. If you focus on that, you won't look back."

He'd read me perfectly. I almost hadn't come because, in the end, Alrik's well-being was more important than either of us. I would do whatever it took to save him from the life Vince had led. Including abandoning the only man I'd ever loved.

"I still need a weapon." I held up my hand before he could interrupt. "If even one of them comes after me—which is likely—you can't distract them all. I'll stand a better chance at getting away if I can at least wound them."