Infamous: (A Bad Boy Romantic Suspense) (38 page)

BOOK: Infamous: (A Bad Boy Romantic Suspense)
9.92Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Me, I’d rather catch up on my reading. Learn a new language. Take a film class or learn a trade. Welding seemed like a better option than shit-stirring, personally.

The plane continued to hurtle through space as I ruminated, thinking about everything but the possible fight to come. I had a hard time picturing myself battling anyone physically. Some sharply worded barbs, maybe, but I didn’t even know how to make a proper fist. It made me wish I’d taken that fencing class I’d wanted to back when I was a teen, but my dad had said it was unladylike. Probably wouldn’t have helped, but I’d’ve felt better.

I stretched out in my seat and continued to watch Robert and Dimitri as they pored over maps and gestured at one another, sometimes with frustration, other times in agreement.

I went to sleep with the silhouettes of their faces, bent toward one another, etched into my mind.

***

Heathrow was as you’d expect: big and crowded. London was gray and rainy, but in a way it felt closer to home than I’d been in weeks. Given how much my life had shifted, I found the sights and sounds of the city comforting.

I’d always wondered why the London Underground was called “the Tube” until I actually saw it. Maybe it’s not why it’s called that, but it’s all literally tubes with trains going back and forth, hurtling into a kind of grounded space. Huge hollow cylinders underneath the city, rattling and thrumming. Considering how vast it is, it works remarkably well. You do feel a bit like a rat in a maze, though.

We took public transport for a few reasons. One, it was easier to lose anyone following us. Two, it was faster than trying to drive in London. And three, Robert insisted. I didn’t mind, letting him and Dimitri guide us.

We stayed for a night in Trafalgar Square and I couldn’t help but smile when we popped out heads out to see the gold statues in front of the National Portrait Gallery. I hadn’t gotten to see it when I’d been in London last, so I allowed myself a little touristy indulgence.

When you turn away from the gallery you can see Big Ben in the distance and, if you actually walk that way, the Houses of Parliament and Westminster Abbey. The entire city was brimming with history older than the country and any city where I came from. I wished I had to time to explore it and compare fish ’n’ chips from every dive and high-end joint I could find.

But there were more important things than fried fish, potatoes, and mushy peas to deal with. I still took a deep breath and swore I could smell chips in the air.

Our hotel was right off the main square and we were escorted to a very special suite with a knowing nod from the manager. I didn’t ask what he was.

We were taken downstairs, something I didn’t think most hotels did, and were given nearly an entire floor to ourselves. I folded myself into a wingback chair and waited. I figured Robert or Dimitri would lay out a plan sooner or later. They both went out of the rooms and off somewhere with Tina after a message was brought to the door. I started to feel anxious with real reason, convinced they were getting bad news.

As it turned out, they were, but it wasn’t bad for them. Not precisely.

The two of them sat down in front of me, looking very serious. I eyed them, noticing Tina was trying to look busy in the background.

“We’ve had some news,” Robert began.

“From Solosha,” said Dimitri.

Then they clammed up. Somehow, for two very pale dudes, they managed to look positively gray.

“Is it my family?” I asked, suddenly feeling scared and sick. They shook their heads.

“It’s your friend, Tasha. Stoller and Alexis have taken her,” Dimitri said.

“Oh,” I managed. I looked at my arms, at the scars starting to set in, and thought about Tasha’s infectious smile and good advice. I thought about how she’d helped me with my boring hair and been a voice of support and reason when I needed it most. And then I thought about Stoller, his spidery limbs descending with a blade.

I knew then that it was no longer a matter of how scared I was or how helpless I felt.

It was no longer a matter of waiting for what someone else would do.

“We have to take the fight to them,” I said finally. Robert and Dimitri looked at each other, then at me. Something in my face must have given them pause because they didn’t ask any questions.

It was time I took my life back and saved my friend.

 

Part 5

When we decided to rescue Tasha from the clutches of Alexis the Uber-Stylish But Shady Vampire Jerk and her evil sidekick Stoller the Spider Thing, I had pictured a kind of
Ocean’s Eleven
-type heist. It would’ve involved acrobatics and disguises, complex systems of deceit, that sort of thing.

In reality we decided to break into the castle where they were keeping her, in the British countryside, grab her, and get the hell out. It was going to be simple and basic: go in under cover of night, let Robert and Dimitri do all the big action stuff, and get gone. We’d have to scope out the place for a few days, get a sense of the layout, the security, and the routines, but otherwise it was going to be as quick and painless as possible.

Less glamorous and cinematic, but a bit more practical and actually achievable.

I tried not to think about what state Tasha might be in when we got to her. I couldn’t handle thinking about Stoller and his collection of instruments being near her. That line of thinking would turn to terror, and the terror would turn to panic and make me incapable of help or support. And I couldn’t allow that. Tasha was my friend. She was in this kind of trouble because of me. I was going to get her out of it no matter what.

I thought back to that night at the club in Hamburg. I’d had dreams about it over the past few weeks. Sometimes I passed on the night out. Sometimes I went but left after a little while. In every scenario, I wasn’t with Tasha in that alley. I didn’t stop the vampires from drugging her, dragging her away. I didn’t stop them from draining her, turning her into just another body in an alley, decomposing before anyone even knew she was gone.

And I couldn’t regret that I was there. That things had gone the way they had. Except for this. For her being forced back into a world she couldn’t possibly have been prepared for. Because of what these vampires wanted from me.

I was done being sorry for myself.

Of course, it’s all well and good to say that. To have an inspiring, rousing speech. It’s another thing entirely to do it. I called on all the female heroines I’d ever loved. I called on Buffy and Xena, Lizzie Bennett and Jane Eyre. I called on Hermione and Abbie Mills. I was going to have to channel some serious ovarian mojo to get through this.

That’s right, I said “ovarian.” Everyone always says “grow some balls,” but have you ever seen how fast a dude goes down if you so much as tap that area? Women, we push live human beings out of our bits. I’m thinking it’s time to re-evaluate the gendered organs we refer to for this sort of thing.

The castle where they were keeping Tasha was familiar to Dimitri and Robert. I guess they’d gone to some pretty high-profile gatherings there back around the French Revolution. Some vamps had apparently wanted to get involved in the war, pick sides, that kind of thing. Robert had argued successfully against it, which made sense to me. For one thing, having vampires in your army would seriously up one side’s odds. But they’d only be able to fight at night and, given the suspicious nature of the times, would have been outed for what they were pretty quick.

Apparently the castle was from a small and mostly extinct house called Drimblewatch. Which, frankly, seemed like a blessing. I couldn’t imagine anyone being awed, impressed, or threatened by a vampire with that last name. I think there’s probably a reason we don’t see any vampires in fiction called “Drimblewatch.”

Of course, I say that, and we were going up against House Dracul. As in Dracula. As in the vampire everyone has heard of. Who is, thankfully, actually dead and not undead anymore. But his house lived on and was apparently home to a bunch of radical fangholes who’d like to take over. I still didn’t get why. Seemed like a really stupid waste of eternity, personally, spending it trying to amass power. You could be spending it traveling. Or having sex. Or petting cats.

I don’t care what anyone says, spending an eternity surrounded by fluffy kitties sounds perfect to me. The Eternal Cat Lady. I would rock the hell out of that title.

First, however, I had to survive this whole rescue mission. And then decide if I really wanted to shrug off this mortal coil for an immortal one.

I knew now that I couldn’t avoid making a choice. And no matter what, it was going to come with a whole shitload of consequences.

Our last night in London was spent making the most basic plan you could imagine. We figured complicated would pretty much equal a failure and painful deaths. What none of us wanted to say, but we clearly all knew: it was entirely possible one or more of us wasn’t going to make it out of this.

Tina went to bed, giving me a sly wink as she went. I stayed up with the boys, trying to burn their faces into my memory. I wanted to be able to call up every line, crease, and expression in my last moments. Just in case your life really does flash before your eyes at the end, why not make sure you see the pretty stuff?

At a certain point I realized that I wanted to have sex on what was potentially my last night on earth. Which presented a few issues, since I didn’t want to choose between Robert and Dimitri. I couldn’t choose. A fact that was going to be a real problem soon.

However, as it turned out, they chose for me this time.

Dimitri got up from where he was lounging while Robert pored over some maps of the countryside. He stretched, kind of obviously.

“Emma, I’m going to bed. Come and see me when you and Robert have finished all this…” He waved his hands vaguely. “Planning stuff.” Then he was off. I watched his back, surprised. He’d nearly been affable about it.

For a while I just let Robert study the maps. We did need to know where we going and how to get there. I for one had no interest in either wandering or getting lost in the wilds of the British countryside. I pictured wild moors and, like…heath. A whole lot of heath. And probably bracken. In another time, under other circumstances, I might have thought wandering the moors was romantic and epic and sweeping. Now it just seemed like it would be frustrating. And damp.

Robert sighed and stood up. He looked around.

“Has everyone gone to bed?” he asked, surprised.

“Yeah, a few hours ago. It’s just you and me,” I said, walking around the table to stand closer to him. He looked down at me.

“And you stayed?” he asked softly, touching my cheek. I leaned up and brushed my lips against his.

“Yes. A lot is going to change tomorrow. I wanted to be with you,” I answered.

“And then Dimitri,” he said, his voice a little tight. I sighed.

“Yes. I care for you both. That’s just how it is,” I said. He pulled me up into his arms.

“I can accept that, if you’ll be mine for a little while tonight,” he said. I nodded, and then he was kissing me.

He put me on top of the map table, sweeping the maps away with one hand first. I pulled at his waist, bringing him against me with a warm jolt. I was impatient; I wanted to get to it. Something about the way things seemed to be headed made everything urgent. Vital. And extremely hot.

Clothes were annoying, useless things. Only skin mattered. Only flesh. Lips meeting, hangs touching, limbs parting, thrusting, blending.

Sex like this is a bit otherworldly. You forget who you are and just feel.

He was inside me easily, and I pushed at him until we were on the floor, me riding him, arching back, taking what I wanted. I wasn’t gentle, biting his chest, his neck, thrusting hard. He let me, even though he could have easily taken over. I worked myself on him until I came, shuddering, muscles tense, shouting his name.

Then it was Robert’s turn.

He lifted me up and we made it as far as the fireplace. Then he was thrusting again, deeply, my legs wrapping around him. He held my hips up and wouldn’t let me move, so all I felt was the fullness of him, his length, his hardness, gliding. I touched my breasts, the tips exquisitely sensitive. He groaned over me, pushing hard as he came. And I went with him.

But we weren’t finished.

He carried me to his room and lay me down on the bed, dragging his hands over my body possessively. He brought out a golden oil and poured it over me, working his hands into my skin. I didn’t think I could get any more turned on, but the feel of his fingers and the oil worked me up again.

I pushed him back and spread the oil on his chest. He made a low growling noise when I rubbed it over his nipples. I smiled, then licked. The oil tasted like honey and made his skin glow.

We slid over one another then, limbs slick, bodies slicker. When he entered me, I gasped at how hard he was again. We moved easily, slow then faster, faster, reaching a peak that stuttered, then went higher. I tossed my head from side to side, unsure of what I felt.

“I love you, Emma,” he said in my ear. I came with a yell, holding him close, my body, my heart, full and warm.

He pulled me into his arms after and we drowsed. His words rang in my ears and I desperately wanted to say them back. But something stopped me. I couldn’t yet. I don’t know why. He didn’t say anything, and I hoped he wasn’t hurt. It wasn’t that I didn’t love him, too. Was it guilt keeping me from saying it? Because I loved two men? Was it that I didn’t want our possible impending deaths to be the reason we said it?

I dozed fitfully, unable to sleep. Eventually I heard Robert gently snoring. I got up, washed up quietly, then put on a robe and went to find Dimitri.

I found him sitting by his fireplace, looking uncharacteristically gloomy and brooding. The glow of the embers played across his face in an orange haze. I watched him from the doorway until he spoke.

“Took you long enough. I wasn’t sure you’d show up,” he said, not looking at me.

“Robert and I had a lot to…discuss,” I said, walking to him. I stood next to his chair and ran my fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes at my touch.

“You’re very special to me, Emma,” he said, sliding his arms around my waist.

“I know,” I said.

He pulled the robe open to reveal my breasts, then buried his face between them with a sigh.

“I want you,” I said.

And for the second time that night I took a man into my body and we became a single thing, prisoners of sensation, beasts of skin and bone. He took me and I took him, giving and taking, making each other cry out with need.

He licked down my body, tasting me slowly. When he found me, my bud was hot and ready and aching. I arched, clutching at his head. He held me on the edge, tongue pressed along the ridge, darting, dipping, dangerous. I held on as if my life was depending on it.

And then I was arching, tight, lost in a shattering world of pleasure.

He was inside me again, holding my hands by my head, watching my face as he thrust.

“Come again, Emma. Come for me,” he said. I started to crest. My eyes started to close against the intensity of it.

“Let me see your eyes. Let me see you come,” he begged. And I did, watching his face as I went, unseeing, into bliss.

I held him after, his face against my chest. I ran my fingers through his hair, so soft and smooth. His hand rested on my belly, kneading it softly. I felt a wetness on my skin. He was crying.

“Dimitri?” I said softly, pulling his face up so I could look at him. There were a few tear tracks on his cheeks. I wiped them away. He kissed me.

“I’m afraid you’re going to get hurt, Emma. And I never expected to…feel like this about anyone again,” he said, putting his face back down. It was like it was too hard for him to look at me and admit this. Too vulnerable. So I held him and continued stroking his hair while he confessed to the ultimate sin: caring.

“When I met you, I admit, I was curious and amused by your wit and the way you dealt with everything. It had been a long time since I’d spent time with a woman I wanted to talk to. And sleep with,” he said, a smile in his voice.

“But I thought I’d just…get it out of my system. It would be temporary. The council would make a decision and you’d be on your way eventually. I didn’t expect for you to work your way into my heart. I thought it was dead to that,” he admitted.

“Now, here we are, going up against who knows what, and I’m afraid. Not for myself, but for you. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“I’ll be alright,” I said, though I wasn’t sure about that at all.

“You have to promise me you won’t do anything foolish, like you did in the alley. Stoller isn’t going to go down easy. Let me and Robert handle it,” he said, coming up to stroke my hair. I looked away.

“I can’t promise you I won’t defend myself. Or you. Or Robert. Or Tina,” I said. “Tasha is my friend. Stoller is a hateful monster. If I have the chance to take him down, I’ll take it.”

“Oh, Emma,” he said, sounding resigned.

“What?” I asked, defensive. I wasn’t being stupid, just realistic. Anything could happen tomorrow. I had to be ready.

“It’s just…brave people like you so rarely have long, happy lives,” he said.

“I’m not brave,” I said, picking at the blanket.

“You are. You’re like the heroine in a novel. Steadfast. Honest. True. It’s one of the things I love about you,” he said, kissing my forehead. I sat there, stunned again. Two declarations of love in one night.

Dimitri wiggled down next to me, pulled me into his arms, and simply held me. He didn’t ask anything of me. Didn’t want to know if I loved him, too. Robert hadn’t either. They were simply telling me how they felt and letting me deal with it however I would.

Other books

On Whetsday by Mark Sumner
Body Guard by Rex Burns
0765332108 (F) by Susan Krinard
Blood & Tacos #2 by Banks, Ray, Stallings, Josh, Nette, Andrew, Larnerd, Frank, Callaway, Jimmy
Forty-Eight X by Barry Pollack