Infamous: (A Bad Boy Romantic Suspense) (34 page)

“No! Stop! Get out of here! It’s a trap, they’re going to—” I began as their arms wrapped around me.

“We know,” Dimitri hushed me.

“Wait,” said Robert.

A low hum began. It felt like it was coming from the ground. I could feel it wherever my body touched down, through my feet and knees. I saw Dimitri and Robert give each other a quick, knowing look. Then Dimitri winked at me.

Then he dropped me unceremoniously, and their faces went blank as a freshly painted wall. I stared at them, not knowing what to think.

The humming grew until it was so loud I had to cover my ears. I could feel it in my teeth and thrumming in my head. I wanted to get away from it, from the way it made my eyes seem to vibrate in my skull. The wolves had gone silent but watchful. They all turned to one archway that had been dark, but where a sickly green light was now steadily growing. I stared as a figure approached, a familiar, spidery one behind it.

Dimitri and Robert swayed to the sound of the hum, mouths slack, eyes distant. I tried to shake their legs but it had no effect. I crawled away from them to a stone bench and looked back.

An impossibly tall figure stood in the archway, surrounded by that strange green light. He had stitches all over his face and arms, and his chest was broad and barreled. He looked like a patchwork man.

It was his eyes, though, that held you. They glowed with that same green light and bored through everything like a laser. He held up his mismatched hands and the wolves stopped growling. Dimitri and Robert stopped swaying. Stoller came out from behind him with a nasty grin.

“I love a little necromancy in the evening,” he said. And then I finally got what was happening. And nearly threw up, realizing that the three of us were totally and completely screwed.

I watched Dimitri and Robert stand completely still as if they had become statues, and my stomach turned over and sank. I couldn’t help it; I’d pictured them rescuing me and getting us all out of here in some kind of act of derring-do. And now I knew that hope had been incredibly foolish because in a world with the undead and all kinds of other things, it pretty much figured there would be those who could…do things to them.

My knowledge of necromancy was thankfully pretty limited. I didn’t really want to know why this dude looked like a patchwork quilt of flesh, or what he’d done to get control over the dead. What I did want to know: how the hell I was going to get the three of us out of this now that it was pretty much definitely up to me.

The hum subsided a bit and the necromancer looked at Stoller. I realized that his mouth was sewn shut and shuddered. Obviously there was a price to pay for the ability to dictate to the dead.

Stoller stepped forward and surveyed Dimitri and Robert. He eyed them speculatively and then grinned.

“Kill each other. But make it last,” he said.

They were at each other in moments, with looks of removed blankness on their faces. They tore at one another like starving animals over a piece of meat. Their faces shifted, teeth bared, mouths long and gaping. It wasn’t a good look for either of them. They snarled and gnashed, clawed at each other with their hands. They were pretty evenly matched, however, and so the fight was more like a dance for a while. They dodged, they hit, but neither seemed particularly hurt. They didn’t even seem to be there at all.

The only sound in the garden was that of flesh hitting flesh. Robert flung Dimitri across the space and he crashed into a dead tree, shattering it. He was up in a moment, hurtling himself onto Robert, punching him along the jaw. Robert’s head snapped back and he was twisting Dimitri’s arm, flinging him aside again.

Eventually, marks began to show. A scratch here, a bruise there. But they didn’t seem to tire. They simply collided into one another, never breaking, but starting to crack. Robert grazed Dimitri’s cheek. Dimitri pulled out some of Robert’s hair. Their clothes became torn.

It was brutal, robotic, unflinching. Except for me. I sat there, shaking, trying to think of what to do, cringing every time one of them connected with a part of the other.

Stoller and his creature watched from the sidelines. The necromancer was impassive, expressionless. Stoller looked thrilled for a while, enjoying the pain and brutality. But then he seemed to get bored. Neither of them were paying any attention to me.

I picked up a rock and weighed it in my hand. I might be able to strike Stoller from there if I’d been in better shape. But drugged, exhausted, and cut up? I had to try, though.

I drew my arm back, wincing, and prepared to let fly.

Then, a soft voice in my ear: “Wait.”

It all happened very fast after that.

I briefly saw Robert and Dimitri, eyes fully aware and not at all magicked, burn bright and turn on Stoller and his necromancer. Stoller looked surprised. The necromancer…well…it was hard to tell.

Then I was closing my eyes, letting my rock drop as I heard some screams, growls, a strangled yell, several thuds, and then I was wrapped in a warm rush of air like when you open an oven while baking to check on your food.

When I opened my eyes I was wrapped in gray and I was flying. I closed my eyes fast because 1. Air feels really weird on your eyeballs 2. Some things you should only see from photos or a plane not rushing hundreds of feet below your actual shoes. I might be getting more adventurous but heights and flying were still a little much.

“Solosha?” I whispered, clutching at silk robes and a figure that only felt somewhat solid.

“Yes, Emma. I am here,” she said, her voice a soft breeze in my ear. I relaxed.

“Where are Dimitri and Robert?” I asked, clinging to what I assumed (and possibly hoped) was her waist.

“Taking care of…things. They will want to have words with that…creature,” she said, voice hissing with disgust. I assumed she meant Stoller. Absolutely no part of me felt sorry for whatever he was about to experience.

“Did you see anyone else around?” I asked, wondering if Alexis had gotten out before the mayhem started. I hadn’t seen her since earlier, and I had a feeling she had made it somewhere safe long before the main event began. I did wonder about the wolves. None of them had jumped to Stoller’s defense so far as I could tell. Interesting.

“No. Should I have?” she said.

“No, it’s okay. I figured. I’ll have to tell Robert and Dimitri, though. I know who’s behind all this bullshit,” I said, sighing.

“You do? How?” she asked.

“Oh, they showed up and told me. It was one of those villain reveals where they casually sit down and tell you their whole crazy plan. Except in this case they were mostly overly polite and, okay, fabulously dressed with perfect hair…but anyway…they just said what family was behind it all. I have no idea what the actual plan is. Other than to try and turn me and make me side with them. I’m sure it’s all very nefarious and bad,” I finished. I was babbling. I was just so relieved to be flying somewhere instead of looking at pieces of Robert and Dimitri. I was relieved that I wasn’t going to have to put up with Stoller anymore.

“This all sounds very…strange,” Solosha murmured.

“Right? I mean, I know I’m new to all this but I just don’t see the point. Live your undead lives. Why be immortal if you’re going to be just like human beings and make everything all grubby and political?” I said. For someone flying through the air with less than the greatest of ease, I was starting to feel okay with it. I was still keeping my eyes shut, however.

“That’s not precisely what I meant. Revealing themselves to you seems foolish,” she said.

“Fair point. Maybe they just think they’re very untouchable,” I said.

“Who was it?” she asked.

“Alexis, from the council. You remember her—?” And then I was falling, dropping like the proverbial stone, and I did open my eyes and saw water and rocks and my life flash before them. The air rushed in my ears like a very loud shushing and my skin tingled with terror and the sudden lack of Solosha’s warmth.

Falling for real was not like my dreams. It didn’t feel freeing. It felt like the end of everything.

I was screaming then and bracing for what was definitely going to be my final impact. I shut my eyes and thought about Dimitri’s devilish smile and Robert’s intense eyes. I thought about sex and chocolate ice cream and my favorite book,
Pride and Prejudice
. I fervently wished my life had been more like an Austen novel and less like a horror show.

And I was falling, fast, falling, and falling…

Being dead felt strange. More like I was smothered in blankets than either nothing or some kind of afterlife. And there was the distinct sound of seagulls somewhere and some low humming. And everything seemed to be rocking gently from side to side.

I cracked open an eye and saw darkness. I pushed at the smothering things, which were, in fact, blankets. When I popped out, I was in a bright room with wood paneling, low ceilings, and walls that curved oddly. There was a small round window near my head. When I looked out, I saw nothing but blue waves. I was on a boat.

Not exactly what I’d expected from the afterlife. I looked down and saw my bandaged arms, which stung a little. That seemed weird, too. Did the dead feel pain? I rubbed my face and pinched my leg and realized that I needed to let go of this whole “am I dead?” cliché. I clearly wasn’t. So I got up shakily and started to look around.

I was in a pretty spacious bedroom even with the low ceilings. I found a breezy white dress laid out for me, which I eyed dubiously. I like white clothing, don’t get me wrong. I just have this tendency to sit in something or spill something on it. But I felt gross and didn’t want to wear my old clothes anymore, so I slipped it on. It felt cool and soft against my skin. There was a pair of sandals, but I kept my boots on. By this point, the only thing I was sure of was that sensible shoes you could run in were essential.

Outside my room was a narrow hallway with several other doors, some with blacked-out windows. It eventually led to a larger sitting-type room with lots of windows and seating everywhere in white. All I could think was that it must cost a fortune in furniture cleaning if there was ever a party with food or wine. Then I realized this was probably a vamp boat and a blood party was more likely. But not any less staining.

I walked up a short flight of steps and out onto the deck, the blazing sun blinding me. There was a warm breeze and I steadied myself against the railing. I looked around at the wide expanse of ocean and sighed. I couldn’t see any land.

The ship itself was a fairly large yacht with what seemed like one main deck and “floor,” a smaller upper deck with steering, and possibly a lower deck that would be under the waterline. You could probably have a party for at least fifty people on it without it getting too crowded. It was very
Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous
and I felt like an impostor. I also felt exceptionally hungry and wished someone had thought to get me some sunglasses. But again, vampires. Shades to keep out the sun probably wouldn’t occur to them seeing as how they couldn’t go out in it at all.

The sound of the waves hitting the boat sides was the only real sound, and we didn’t seem to be moving much. I assumed we were anchored in the middle of Nowhere, Ocean, for a reason.

I walked up to the upper deck and saw Tina napping by a comically large steering wheel that I suspected was mostly for show. This was clearly a modern yacht that likely had a fancy engine room somewhere. Robert’s assistant was having a siesta on a pile of pillows, a stack of glittering pink candies near one tiny hand. I was glad to see her alive and well.

It was strange to be on a boat after everything that had just happened. It was so quiet and peaceful, sunny and balmy. It was like being in a dream or on vacation. But then I looked at my wounded arms and things felt a lot more real.

I didn’t wake Tina; I had a feeling she’d been working overtime with my disappearance. I wasn’t really looking forward to explaining to anyone what had happened because it had been partly my own fault. I’d made it a lot easier for Stoller and crew to nab me, and I wasn’t thrilled with my brief stint as The Stupid Girl in a Story Who Does Exactly What It Is Obvious She Should Not. No one likes that character. They yell at her on screen or throw her book across the room.

I wanted to be like Elizabeth Bennett, plucky and smart, maybe a little too clever and judgy, but who ends up with a great guy at the end based on the fact that she’s just too awesome even with her (let’s face it, minor) flaws. Instead I was heading towards more of a tragic gothic novel sort of future, and those really only sound romantic when you’re thirteen and don’t know any better. When you’re an adult they seem awful.

I figured I had a few hours before Dimitri or Robert got up. I wasn’t sure whose boat it was, though with Tina there, it seemed likely it was Robert’s. I hoped wherever Dimitri was he was safe. I had a feeling he could take care of himself, but still. I worried.

I wandered into the galley and found a fridge that was well stocked, especially with sweets. Given the trauma of the last few days, I was heartily glad that Tina was clearly the one doing the shopping. I grabbed a vat of chocolate ice cream and some whipped cream, dumped them in a bowl, and ate until I felt sick. It was a strangely comforting sort of nausea. A reminder that I was alive and could do things like eat too much ice cream. Which is a lot more fun and less serious than, say, getting cut up or eaten.

After that I drank water until it felt like I might be able to float away on my own, and headed back to my cabin. I was exhausted again and ready to sleep for several days if anyone would let me.

I collapsed into my bed and was asleep in no time. I don’t remember any dreams.

It was warm and smelled like cloves. I burrowed into it, breathing deep, feeling safe and comforted. Hands held me, rubbed my back, and gently caressed my face. I sighed, not wanting to wake up from this dream. I wanted to stay warm and held forever.

“Emma.” Robert’s voice, deep as the darkest chocolate, flowed over me.

“Mmph,” I said, burying my face against a broad chest.

“Emma, wake up, love,” he said again. Something about the way British men say “love” just kills me.

“No, I don’t want to,” I said stubbornly. I kept my eyes shut and breathed in his scent and covered my face with my hands.

They were gently pried away and I felt lips pressed to my forehead, cheeks, lips. I couldn’t help but smile. He kissed my eyelids and I opened them, looking into that strongly etched face and those intense blue eyes. They were kind, concerned, and something else. Something I didn’t really want to think about.

He kissed my mouth and ran his fingertips over my eyebrows, down to my cheekbones. I was in his arms, looking up, incredibly happy to see him but more than a little afraid of what he might say. That I was more trouble than I was worth, probably.

“Oh, Emma. Your poor arms,” he said, and held me, kissing the top of my head. It wasn’t fatherly, thankfully, but he cradled me gently, almost reverently.

“I’m okay, Robert,” I said, trying to be reassuring. I was, really. I mean, yes, my arms hurt like hell. But they’d heal. I’d have scars, but that was better than the more permanent issue of being dead.

“You aren’t. We promised to keep you safe, and that…thing…did you serious harm,” he said. I nodded.

“Yes, but I left. I made it easy. And I put you, Dimitri, Tina, Solosha in danger. I know it’s not my fault Stoller is a psycho, but I knew better. I just felt trapped. I’m sorry,” I said, looking away.

“Emma, no,” he almost whispered.

“You just…you don’t know how hard it’s been. My life is completely upside down. I can’t go anywhere, I can’t talk to the people I care about. Any minute some new thing could swoop in and end my life. Which, let’s face it, hasn’t been stunningly interesting up until now. I don’t want to die before I’ve had a chance to really do…anything,” I finished. I’d finally admitted to it. I’d been trying to snark my way around it, but it all came down to a pretty simple thing: I didn’t want to die having never lived.

In answer Robert kissed me, full and hard, with a passion I’d never quite experienced with him before. He was careful of my arms, laying me down and covering me with his body, letting his hips thrust into mine, sending a shock of warm pleasure through me. His hands slid up my legs, tickling gently at my thighs, making me smile and squirm a little. He nuzzled my neck, finding the spot I liked behind my ear, biting gently. More shocks and shivers.

He kissed up my legs, finding a sensitive spot behind my knees I hadn’t been aware of. His hands rested between my legs, gently stroking across my underwear, teasing me deliciously. When he pulled them aside and pressed his mouth to me, I arched, sighing. It felt good to be loved like this.

Parting me, he whispered that I was beautiful, then claimed me with his lips. I gasped as his tongue found my sensitive bud and swirled. He pulled me close, going slow, circles of flesh making me weak with need.

I surrendered to it, I let my body flow with pleasure, and Robert brought me high. I came with a cry, back bowed, nerves on fire.

He entered me slowly, with excruciating care. He bit my neck as he did it, filling me up so fully I wrapped my legs around him to contain the sensation. We rocked together, our bodies slick and warm with passion. I felt myself cresting again, riding a wave of shattering pleasure. It peaked, then peaked again, and I clung to him like a drowning woman. He held me there, coaxed my body back up again and again. Then he finally came with me, flowing too, crying out my name into my hair.

We lay together after, not speaking. He stroked my hair and kissed my injured arms with reverent, fluttery kisses. I drifted, then fell asleep in the crook of his arm.

When I woke up this time, there was food by my bed. I ate it ravenously, my stomach an aching pit. I showered, arms stinging, but as I watched away the old blood, I saw that the wounds were already starting to heal. No sign of infection, which was a relief. I wouldn’t have put it past Stoller to make the knife dirty or poison it. But it had been two days now and I wasn’t sick. Small favors.