Sweet Temptation (25 page)

We're in. Excellent.

They lock the gate behind us and rush into the building with guns in hand, strapped over their shoulders. Didn't anyone ever tell these minions not to run about with their fingers on the triggers? Unnerving. I'm ready to get Zania and get the hell out of here.

One of the guards shouts something to a man who stands as we round a dark corner. The new man looks us over, his eyes a little wild, then gives a hard nod toward a doorway. Kope marches past him and I follow.

Bloody hell . . .

My stomach sours, just as it does when one of Marissa's new girls is being trained into obedience. But Marissa doesn't allow the men to beat her girls to this extent. Zania is little more than a brown pile of bones on a dirt floor. Naked. And no, her nakedness does not rouse my lust. Not a bit.

One of the guards nudges her with his boot and yells something. Kope waves him off with a harsh swipe and squats beside her. He speaks to her in a rough tone and she curls tighter. At least it's a sign of life. Kope repeats the phrase, slower and more quietly this time, and I think I understand enough of the context to put it together.

“You belong to me now.”

Kopano takes her wrist and turns it over. He feels her thin bicep, checking her condition. Then he turns his head and gives a curt nod to the bloke standing in the doorway. The man comes forward, sets his gun down with a clatter, and pops open the briefcase, counting. His eyes are bright with greed. He shouts something at one of the other men, who runs off and comes back with a black cotton dress. The idiot starts trying to dress Zania, shoving the opening over her head and yelling at her when she won't straighten her arms for him.

Kopano quickly waves the man away and lifts Z into a sitting position, frowning. He murmurs gruffly as he coaxes her arms through. She tries to scoot away, but he follows and ignores her groaning protests until she's completely dressed.

All the while I'm silently chanting for everyone to hurry so we can get the fuck out of this hellhole. In the loose pocket of my cotton bottoms I feel my satellite phone vibrate. I take a
quick peek and silently curse. It's from Flynn.

Think I have a tail but they haven't come n sight. Also getting strange looks from 2 locals.

I give Kope the we-need-to-hurry eye and he nods imperceptibly.

Before the guy in charge is finished fondling the cash, Kopano scoops Zania into his arms. She tries to struggle, but he grips her tighter and murmurs in Arabic for her to be still.

The man on the floor lifts his gaze from the money to give Kopano an evil grin of satisfaction. Kope glowers and says something about our weapons. Another man comes in with Kope's gun and my knives. I quickly take them and follow Kope as he exits, passing the men on the way out. They're huddled around the cash, grinning like they've won the lottery. One man drags himself away to escort us.

I've almost forgotten about Flynn until distant sounds ring out inside my bubble of extended hearing. Arabic words, spoken in a questioning tone. The scooter starting up. Footsteps running against dirt. Yells and grunts. Sounds of fighting.

Shite!
My palms start to sweat. I want to get out there and help Flynn, but I can't with this machine-gun maniac at our heels. Suddenly the fighting quiets and I hear the scooter zoom away in the opposite direction. Maybe Flynn's escaped.

We get out of the compound and into the car, where Kope lays Zania in the backseat. As soon as we're on the road I sign to Kopano that Flynn's been discovered. We're trying to decide if we should go to him as Zania begins to moan.

“Drink,” she whispers in Arabic. Her voice is scratchy.

I unscrew the cap off a bottle of water and lean back,
fitting it into her hand as she lies there. She takes one look at it through her swollen, purpled eyes and throws the damn thing back at me. Water goes everywhere before I grab it.

Right. Not the type of drink she's after.

It's clear we can't go traipsing through the unknown hills searching for Flynn when we've got Zania to deal with. Kope and I agree that Flynn likely got away and will meet us later. We hope.

I look at Z's thin arms where she's curled on the backseat. She's emaciated. I pull a protein bar from my bag and open it.

“I need you to eat this.” I gently nudge her forearm.

At my touch, she balls tighter and screams in heavily accented English, “Don't touch me!”

“Zania, I want to help you. Please. You need to eat.”

“Leave me the hell alone!”

I hold out the food again. “I won't touch you again, I swear. But you need food—” She smacks the protein bar from my hand and it falls to the dirty car floor. I sigh and look to Kope, who's cringing at my failed efforts. Then I remember the pictures I took with Anna just before I left, for this very purpose.

I pull out my phone and hold out the screen for her to see. “Look, Z. Do you remember Anna? Here we are together. I am her ally, just like you. Just like Kope.” She glances at it and eyes me suspiciously.

Kope picks up on this and begins talking to her in Arabic as he drives. I imagine he's telling her she's safe now. Reminding her who he is, and explaining who I am. I hear him say Anna's name.

She seems almost calm, until her whole body begins to convulse.

I curse under my breath. “I think she's having withdrawals or something.”

Kope's eyebrows knit together and he drives faster. I've no clue what to do. She dry heaves over the side of the seat, but there's nothing in her stomach to purge. I watch helplessly.

“The hotel is near,” Kope says. “Two minutes.”

We get back to the seedy hotel, and Kope tells her she must walk on her own so we don't draw much attention, even though it's dark and not well lit. Her slow gait is painful to watch. Thankfully the small walk from the car to the side door doesn't earn any unwanted attention. We use our hearing to hide around a corner until our hall is clear, then we get her to the room.

The daughter of Sonellion is wrecked. She walks with a limp from her injuries, but she won't let us close enough to see what needs fixing. I run her a hot bath, but she sits on the floor of the bathroom shaking uncontrollably, begging for a drink.

“Maybe we should give her one—” I begin, but Kope cuts me off.

“No.”

I wish Anna was here. Zania groans and begins a chattering murmur that rakes my ears. God, she's suffering.

“Just one fucking drink,” I whisper to Kope, but he is adamant.

“In the end it will only make her want more. She has to make it through this.”

Zania snarls at him in Arabic.

I squat next to her. “Please, Z. We need to get you out of here before your father returns. You need to eat something so you can be stronger, so you can heal.”

She looks at me, really looks at me, for the first time. “One drink,” she says softly. She's so pathetic. I want to give in because I'm weak and I keep wondering if one will really hurt. Perhaps it would calm her. But I can feel Kopano's eyes glaring down at us. What would Anna do? I attempt to channel her positive energy before I speak again.

“I know it feels like that's what you need, but it's not. We want to help you.” I'm proud of myself for sounding so gentle and reasonable. I open my mouth to continue and she wallops me straight in the eye.

Bloody fucking hell, that stings.

I move away from the Neph girl, who doesn't appear as if she can lift an arm, much less throw a decent punch. It seems where there's a will, there's a way, because I'm fairly certain she's given me a black eye. Not the first time I've been hit by a girl, but it's the first time I didn't deserve it.

Still, I can't bring myself to be mad. Until Kope chuckles.

“Shut up,” I say, standing. “
You
give it a go, lover boy.”

He frowns at me as I stalk past him and check out my eye in the mirror. Yep. It's darkening.

I expect Kope to try a gentle approach, but once again he shocks me. He speaks to her with stern, dominant authority.

“It's time to bathe, Zania. We will leave the room and you will bathe yourself. Our flight to the U.S. is in less than five hours.”

She wraps her arms around her stomach and cries, “You should have let me die!”

“You were not going to die,” he growls. “Your fate was far worse than death.”

“Just leave me here!”

“Bathe. Now. Or I will put you in the bath and clean you myself!”

She eyes him with malice. He takes a hard step forward and she scuttles back.

“Don't touch me! I will wash myself.”

“When it's time to leave,” he says, “you will be presentable. We cannot raise suspicion.”

He barges past me and I follow, closing the door. It's not until he sits on the bed, gripping the edge with his eyes shut, that his strong façade cracks and he begins to tremble.

I want to tell him he's done well, but I can't bring myself. Instead I sit on the other side of the bed in silence. We both relax a bit when we hear Zania step into the water. Then she begins to cry a mournful sound, her teeth chattering as she shakes, and it guts me.

I hate the Dukes. I loathe them with every fiber of my being.

I allow myself to imagine Anna, fierce and lovely, stabbing each of them with the flaming sword as all of us Neph hold them down, until their souls are extinguished forever.

And then another thought smacks me and I'm struck with sudden anxiety.

Where is Flynn?

I whip out my phone and ring him, but there's no answer. Next I text Anna's father with the code he told us to use. Belial texts right back.

Get her?

Yes,
I respond,
but F is missing.

My heart pounds, waiting for his response.

Leave with or without him.

Damn, that's hard-core, but I suppose I get it. Better to have one missing than two. At this point, with so few allies, we're playing a numbers game.

Kope looks over, so I show him the texts and he nods. He's tense, and I understand. We won't relax until we're on a plane, far away from here.

I wonder if it's too early to call Anna. I try to imagine what sort of shenanigans Blake got her into last night. You've never partied until you've partied with the son of Envy.

I dial her number and lie back, grinning at the sound of her husky, hungover, half-asleep voice when she answers.

“Hello?”

I sigh and focus on her voice. I can't wait to get home to her.

The rest of the trip is a blur. After Zania bathes and dresses she refuses to speak to us again. Kope miraculously manages to get her to eat three bites of warm flatbread from his fingers.

I don't need to be a child of Duke Astaroth to see there's a bond between those two. I let him take care of Z for the remainder of the trip, only getting involved when absolutely necessary. He knows how to deal with her in the way that she needs, and I don't care for another black eye.

Flynn shows up at the Damascus airport, completely ragged, just before our flight. He's got a rip in his shirt, and the corner of his beard has started to peel off. I point him straight to the loo to fix himself, glad he's okay.

When we land in Amsterdam later that day we all change
out of our Arab getups into Western wear. Scanning for whisperers and seeing none, we clap Flynn on the back and he goes his separate way, off to do some traveling around Europe before returning to Australia.

Zania looks frail in her loose jeans, as if she can't manage to stand straight, but it's clear what a beautiful woman she'll be when she's well. Her arms are crossed and she taps her foot furiously as she stares into the tax-free store, her gaze locked on the bottles of liquor. Kopano steps between her and the glass, and she narrows her eyes, which are no longer swollen. They're now big and dark brown and full of fire. Kopano seems to be drawn to those eyes, though he's clearly not at ease with her dire need for alcohol.

They stare hard at each other, connected, as if they might break into a round of intense sex right against the duty-free shop. That'd be a show. I bite my tongue against the urge to laugh and tell them to get a room. Saint Kopano would die of humiliation if I said that.

I'm glad when our flight is called. One step closer to seeing Anna again.

During our flight, an attendant sees Zania hunched over, hugging herself, shaking and groaning. Kope tries to play it off as motion sickness, but the flight attendant still seems worried. It certainly looks like an emergency to anyone with eyes.

Kope even tries to rub her back to put on a good show, but Zania yanks away with a yelp. Yeah, these two are going to get this plane grounded if they're not careful. It's time for me to work my charm.

I smile up at the frowning attendant and beckon her nearer.
She's probably late twenties. European. She swipes her eyes over me, and a great deal of her worried aura lightens, suddenly forgotten. She leans down and I sit up taller to get closer as I whisper.

“Between us,” I say, “I think my mate's lady is up the duff, if you know what I mean.”

Her eyes widen and she pats her stomach with question.

I nod. Grin. “They haven't announced it yet, but I'm fairly certain. She's not been herself for a bit, but it's nothing to worry about, luv. She'll be fine.”

I wink for good measure. Then wet my lips. Her aura pops red, and my body reacts without permission.

No
, I remind myself, feeling guilty.

“Well, all right then,” the flight attendant says, brushing a hand down my shoulder and arm. My body tightens and I'm holding my breath. “If you need anything, let me know.” She dips closer. “Anything at all.”

Go away, go away, go away, and for the love of all things holy don't touch me again.

I give her a nod and she finally turns to go up the aisle. A quick glance to the side finds Kope and Zania both glaring at me. I suppose they didn't care for the pregnancy bit, but oh well. They should be grateful. I exhale and close my eyes.