Sweet Temptation (35 page)

My heart is racing. “No, sir. I searched her belongings but found nothing.”

“Shit. She must have hidden it somewhere. Doesn't matter. We'll get her to tell us.”

He sounds so bloody carefree and sure of himself. There's no way in hell I'm handing Anna over. No way.

“Nice job, Kaidan,” he says. “You accomplished what over five hundred prowling Legionnaires couldn't do last night.” Yeah, yeah, blah, blah. Why is he being so bloody chatty? I need to get Anna out of here. “They searched damn near every bar, club, and hotel on the East Coast. Where the hell'd you find her?”

In the back of my car on Lover's Lane, you git.

My mind flips through things to say. “She had a group of mates in her old town who always partied at a lake house. I thought perhaps she'd fall back on them, and I was right.”

Okay, then. Enough chitchat. I glance at the door, itching.

Father laughs again, like we're best mates sharing jokes. “Where are you now?”

“Our old house.” Shite . . . I should have lied.

“Excellent. I'll call an emergency summit in Vegas and we can take care of her. It's our most secure location, and we're always looking for an excuse to visit Sin City, right?”

Weren't they
just
there? Awkward pause. Oh, right. I'm supposed to answer.

I force out a laugh and roll my eyes. Are we done here yet?

“All right,” he says. “Meet me at the Atlanta airport in two hours.”

What? I whip my face to Anna and her eyes are like saucers.

“Er, it's not necessary for you to fly down here, Father,” I insist. “I'll book our flights and deliver her to the summit.”

“Oh, it's definitely necessary. I want to be the one to escort her into the summit tonight. See you at the jet.”

I will throat-punch him.

“We'll be there,” I lie. I press End and check the screen to be sure we've disconnected. Right. Done. I turn to Anna. “We're not going.”

“Kaidan!” She pumps her bound fists against her thigh in frustration.

How can she still want to do this? It's madness! I launch my vile phone at the bed and cram my fingers into my hair. “What have I done?”

I pace the room as Anna fumbles through her bag and starts texting people.

No, no, no. It's not happening. We can still run. She has to see reason.

“Anna—”

“Stop!” She advances on me with the most severe, stern look I've ever seen from her, and she yells in a strong voice. “No more. Get it out of your head, Kai! We are not running. This is happening whether you like it or not. It's time to get your game face on and get ready to kick some ass.”

Holy . . . I honestly didn't think her capable of this kind of verbal badassery. Even in handcuffs she has taken control, walloped me, and forced my whiney inner child into a corner. I'm sorry I made her yell, but I think I needed to hear that. I needed to hear her say she's not going to put up with my fears
anymore. Anna is the one who was chosen, and for good reason. My only job is to be at her side and trust her judgment, though it kills me.

I look down and nod. “You're right.”

Ready or not, it's time.

“Trash the hotel,

Let's get drunk on the minibar.”

—“Fancy” by Iggy Azalea

T
hat was the bloody worst plane ride of my life. Fucking Pharzuph. I nearly handed Anna the hilt so she could strike his arse down when he felt her up from behind, supposedly looking for the sword, then tried to get me to shag the flight attendant. I'm really regretting not getting rid of him when we had the chance, but his disappearance would've thrown off the summit and sent everyone scrambling.

I still have my doubts about how this prophecy will play out, but I'm getting right chipper at the idea of watching his demise.

I walk beside Anna down a lavishly carpeted hall in Vegas's Venetian resort. I haven't taken my extended hearing off
Father, and I think for once Anna is actually listening as well. Her face is pinched and I've had to grab her elbow to keep her from bumping into fire hydrants and maid carts.

We stop in one of the hotel's many shops to buy Anna an outfit for tonight, per Father's orders. I'm certain he was expecting something nightclub worthy, like a cocktail dress. I can't wait to see his face when he gets a look at what she's chosen.

We've just turned onto our hall when Father knocks on a hotel room door two floors up.

I recognize Duke Astaroth's poncey English voice straightaway. “Brother Pharzuph. Didn't I just see you on the slopes in Switzerland?”

Father laughs. “Yes, well, this summit's going to be much more enjoyable. Let me in.”

It's not completely unusual for Father to seek the Duke of Adultery's company, but usually it's to work, not talk. I don't like this at all.

“Do you have the sword?” Astaroth asks when they're in the room. They lower their voices and I strain to hear.

“No. She's hidden it. That's not why I'm here. I need a favor. It will only take a moment. I'm curious about a possible bond between two people, though there's probably nothing there. I've just got a nagging feeling and I want to rule it out.”

Bile burns its way up my throat.

“Ah,” Astaroth croons. “A possible conquest?”

Father responds to him in Russian, a language he knows I don't speak. I stop dead in my tracks.

This is about us. He's suspicious of a bond between me and
Anna. Astaroth will see it. The love. The marriage. All of it.

I think we both realize this at the same time, because we take off down the hall as quickly and quietly as we can manage.

One of us needs to drink. Now.

I burst through the doors of our suite, through the bedroom, down the steps, and straight to the mini-fridge. I can't ask Anna to drink. It's not right. But I'm not sure she's comfortable keeping an ear on Father and Astaroth. So I use a hand to sign,
One of us has to stay sober to listen.

She immediately points to me, so I give her cinnamon liqueur. She downs it with barely a cringe, blowing out a stream of cinnamon air. Father and Astaroth are climbing on the elevator now, flirting with a random woman. I hope like hell they'll be distracted by her.

I hand Anna the orange liqueur and she frowns as she swallows. I wonder if she's feeling it yet. She looks . . . normal. She taps her wrist and I hold up three fingers, then make a zero. Thirty seconds. The Dukes are not distracted enough by the woman and are now heading down our hall.

I try to give her the amaretto next, but she shakes her head hard and reaches over me for the tequila. She throws it back with a smack, and for a split second I forget who we are and who's after us, because hot damn. I love when she is hard-core.

Then my stomach flips with remembrance and Anna holds out her hand, shaking it with impatience. I thrust the vodka into her hand and she downs it, smacking the carpet with a slight grimace. Yeah, that didn't go down as pleasantly as the tequila. She holds out her hand again, but she's already had four big shots.

Are you sure?
I sign. It would be terrible for her to get too drunk, but she still looks okay. She nods fast and I hand her the rum, both impressed and frightened by her high tolerance. She drinks the last one like it's nothing.

Father and Astaroth are nearly at our door. They've stopped chatting and I can only hear their footsteps on the thick carpet.

Please let this work. Anna and I move to stand at the same time and she tips to the side before catching herself and sitting on the floor.

Then she giggles and my heart sinks to my feet.

Oh.
Shit.

She stares over at the minibar and I slash a hand across my throat.
Cut off.
She frowns. She'd better not even think about having another! Damn it! She has to keep her wits about her when the Dukes get here.

I brush my hair back roughly with my fingers. So much for high tolerance.

The Dukes are right outside the door, silent. I look at Anna and put a finger to my lips. I don't want her to say a word. A knock fills the room. Anna stares back at me, kind of glossy, and I think I might've just ruined the entire operation. As I jump to my feet I realize that in this state she won't even be able to use the hilt that's hiding in her bag. I should have been the one to drink. I grind my teeth together, furious with myself, and pull the door open.

“Father. Duke Astaroth.” I tilt my head as if I'm curious about their visit. “What can I do for you?”

Young dickhead flicks his hand to the side. “Let us in and close the door. Astaroth just wants to have a look at her.”

I step aside and close the door when they pass, then I walk
to the sitting area behind them, straining my neck for a look at Anna. She's sitting in front of the mini-fridge just as I left her, looking like a lush.

She stares up at Astaroth, the Fabio of the Dukes, as he sneers down at her.

“This one's piss-drunk,” says Astaroth. “I can't get a reading.”

My heart gives a giant throb of reprieve, but the show is not over. He will be suspicious if I don't react somehow.

“A reading on what?” I ask. “A bond? You can't be serious.” He ignores me.

Suddenly Anna stands, or tries to stand, and takes a stumbling set of side steps into the couch. She bursts into laughter, unable to fully stand, and I think I might die.

“You don't waste any time,” Father says.

Ugh, no. Don't talk to her. Go away, go away.

“There's more!” Anna flings an arm behind her to point at the fridge. “I didn't drink it all. Want some?”

Shite, Anna, shut up!

“I'll pass,” Father says. He's got an impish grin on his face. “But I think you should have another.”

No, you giant knob, she should not. Damn, how long until this begins to burn off her? I feel like we've been standing here forever. Anna drops to the floor in front of the fridge, her shorts riding up her thighs and showing a sliver of bum crack. Father most definitely notices, making a lewd gesture, and I want to take him down.

Astaroth gets bored and leaves. I'm so itchy a hive of bees covers my skin. It is killing me to stand here. I move to the entertainment center, mere feet from where Anna crouches,
and I lean against it, crossing my arms.

“They need more tequila in these minibar fridge thingamajigs,” Anna says. She sits up with a bottle in her hand and I nearly drop-kick it from her fingers.

Father looks at me with absolute mirth.

“I told you,” I spit. “She's a lush. An idiot. I can't believe you'd think there was a bond between us.”

Please, Anna, do not say anything. Stay quiet. Tear through the sweets in the fridge. Pass out. Do anything except drink or talk.

“Eh, you can't really blame me for wondering when you wouldn't even screw the stewardess today. You're usually all about cougars.” Shite . . .

“Eww!” Anna squeals, stuffing her hands over her ears.

“See,” I mutter. “Completely immature.”

She twists open the bottle of gin, and I can't keep my mouth shut.

“You're trashed. You don't need any more.”

“Oh, shaddup,” she says. I dart forward, but she pulls the bottle to her chest and throws back a sip, wagging her other pointer finger in the air. Where are my handcuffs?

“No touchie the drinkie. That's bad, bad, bad. Why're you bein' so grumpy, anyways? We're in Vegas, baby!” She stands awkwardly, grabbing the fridge and laughing. She jumps and puts her arms up, splashing a bit of gin. I would probably be laughing my arse off if this were any other time. But now?

Not amused. Any moment it's going to begin wearing off. Any moment now would be brilliant. Until then, I must try to talk some sense into her. Father is watching with far too much interest.

“You are being obnoxious,” I tell her. “It's bad enough I have to babysit. I'm not holding your bloody hair if you puke.”

She laughs and saunters toward me, wobbly, poking my chest. “Isss funny to annoy you. You're, like, sooo hot when you get mad.”

Father moves into our space, sandwiching Anna between us and putting his mouth to her ear. “I'd watch it, if I were you. He can get pretty rough when he's upset.”

I'm about to get rough with him if he doesn't take his bleedin' hand off her waist. I have a sick, awful feeling that Father would not be above the idea of trying to punish her before the summit in his own wicked ways.

Anna spins and pushes off our chests, moving to the middle of the room and looking around, bleary-eyed. “Whurs the music?”

Father, who does not like being pushed away, is now staring at her with menace. He moves to her and grabs her arms, shaking her. “Where's the sword?”

“I ain't got no swooord, crazy ass,” she says in a heavy drawl. She thinks he's being cheeky.

“Don't talk to him like that,” I say, moving toward them. I couldn't care less that she's disrespected him, but I don't want her to make him angry.

Father chuckles without humor. “We'll see, little girl.”

“Yeah, we will!” She smiles, then flops down on the couch and gets a goofy look. “What the heck are we even talkin' 'bout? I thought we were gonna dance.”

She rolls off the couch and crawls toward the minibar. Father claps a hand on my shoulder and cocks his head toward
Anna. The stare he gives her is full of loathing. “Yeah, good luck with that. And be careful. I wouldn't put it past her to use your lust inclination as a distraction to escape. Don't let her get the upper hand, you know what I'm saying?” He winks wickedly and I nod. “Don't leave the room, and don't let her out of your sight.”

“Yes, sir.”

Just leave!

He puts his mouth too close to my ear and whispers. “She thinks she's cute. She thinks she can pull one over on you. Don't trust her. Don't even get near her, if you can help it.” I give a tight nod.

Anna loudly cracks open a bottle of beer and I give her my harshest glare. She flicks the cap at me and I smack it away.

“Shame to waste such a fine body on her,” he murmurs to me.

I grit my teeth.

Father pokes fun at the drunk girl a bit longer, amused by her cluelessness, and then he
finally
leaves. I flick him off with both hands when the door closes, bloody glad he's gone and that things didn't escalate further. We're unbelievably lucky. I lean back against the entertainment center and cross my arms. Now I just have to get Anna sobered up and . . .

Why is she staring at me like that?

She licks her lips and gives me the classic “come hither” look. But that would be bad. Very bad right now. I shake my head. My hearing is out the door, and Pharzuph whistles as he enters the elevator.

Anna sets down her beer and stands. She's still obviously
inebriated, but she's not falling over anymore. She's just sloe-eyed and sexy, and I have to keep shaking my head. But she's coming my way, and I feel the stirring. My head fills with fog, and my gut aches with a deep throb.

Anna presses her entire body to mine, and her hands are on my waist. My teeth clamp together. I grasp her shoulders and push her away as gently and quietly as I can, but she is unrelenting. I shake my head, feeling weakened by the emotion of the afternoon. Father is off the elevator now, walking, saying hello to people, flirting with strangers.

Anna's hands roam over my chest, and down. I grab her hands but she yanks them away and says, “Don't.”

Uuuugh
, little vixen, do not do this to me. Don't touch. Don't speak. Just . . . I cover her mouth.

“Shut up,” I say in a low voice.

She goes still. Her eyes are on me, and they are sweltering, her lids dipping low. Come to think of it, I should probably cover her eyes, too. I should put her to bed and tuck her in tightly. All by herself. Fully clothed. Until she's ready to behave again.

Sounds of the casino ring out in my extended hearing.

“You look familiar,”
I hear Father say.
“Are you an actress?”