by Juniper Hart
He wondered why he was considering Lara’s words as intensely as he was.
She immediately picked up on his hesitation.
“Think about it,” she pressed urgently. “Without Franz in the way, Kieran would be looking for a new regent in the States. You would do a much better job of running things…”
“It’s not that simple,” Pascal barked out, angry that he was considering the idea. “I can’t just pick up and leave here.”
Lara cocked her head to the side curiously and studied his face.
“Why not?” she demanded. “What’s keeping you here?”
Pascal realized that she had no idea what he was doing in South Africa and that annoyed him for some reason.
“Go home, Lara,” he grumbled, rising from the bench. “Before Franz realizes that you’re gone.”
“If I go, I’m not going to tell him I found you!” she threatened. Again, Pascal found himself gaping at her.
“Why the hell not?”
“If you want him to know you haven’t betrayed the tribe, go explain it to him yourself,” she said smugly. “Then you can explain why you never reached out to him before now.”
“I did!” Pascal protested.
“Do you think he’s going to believe that?” Lara purred, also rising to place her hands on his chest. “Or do you think he’s going to believe that you went rogue and are having second thoughts?”
Fury shot through Pascal and he seized Lara by both arms, shaking his head.
“Who are you?” he asked when his protests finally died on his lips. “You aren’t the same girl I knew all those years ago.”
It was Lara’s turn to scoff as she pulled back from his grasp.
“Are any of us?” she snapped. “Not one of us is the same and yet nothing else has changed since we were brought overseas and away from our home. We continue to be used but this time by Franz.”
Her face softened as she caught his expression and she took his hand in hers. Pascal couldn’t understand the strange calm which had befallen him in light of the confession she had made.
I can’t think about this. It’s madness. I can’t just leave anyway…
A dozen reasons why he couldn’t do it shifted through his mind but none of them seemed to be as strong as the reasons he had for doing it.
“You know this isn’t something you haven’t considered before,” she murmured softly. “I’m only putting into words something you’ve considered for years.”
“I wouldn’t even know how to do it,” he muttered before he could stop himself. A few feet away, two meth addicts were engaged in a screaming match by the chessboards but neither Pascal nor Lara seemed to hear them as they continued to stare at one another, drinking in every detail of the other’s face.
“I can help you,” she whispered, her face lighting with excitement as Lara realized that he was seriously considering it.
Pascal was flooded with a variety of emotions, completely at a loss for which direction to take.
Denial? Anger? Gratefulness? How was he supposed to react? Lara was the only taste of home he’d had in almost two years. Should he really send her away?
“He hurt you?” he asked dully, nausea threatening to overwhelm him.
“Of course he hurt me,” Lara spat. “He’s caused us both nothing but pain for centuries!”
“No, I mean…” Pascal trailed off and collected his words. “I mean, did he…has he hurt you in other ways?”
Lara seemed perplexed by his words and she slowly shook her head, several stray strands of hair teasing her eyes in the process. The junkies were growing louder, and several others had joined in the argument. It was evident that a physical altercation was about to ensue.
“Isn’t there somewhere we can go to speak quietly?” she asked him before he could suggest the same thing. If what Lara was saying was true, neither of them needed to draw the attention of the police.
Could he bring her back home? What if Kyla showed up?
He decided that he would cross that bridge if he came to it. There was no law against bringing women home, but he didn’t want Kyla to think that he was dating.
Is that really your biggest concern right now? he asked himself in disbelief and yet he could not dismiss the notion.
“Well?” Lara pressed. “Can we get out of here? I just feasted on rapist that I think you left behind.”
She unleashed a little giggle and Pascal’s eyes became saucers.
“What?”
She shrugged.
“I told you, Cal, I can still feel you, even after all these years. We’re still connected, whether you like it or not.”
“You feasted on that family?” he demanded. “Even the boy? The mother?”
“I left them alive,” Lara replied defensively. “I’m not totally heartless.”
Pascal groaned loudly. The police would be looking for someone matching her very unique description in the diverse city core if she had killed. He thought of the Syrian family who had stared at him so intently when he’d gone to the apartment. He had been so cocky to let them go, sure that they would never breathe a word, but he couldn’t be sure now.
He and Lara needed to get out of plain sight and quickly.
“We can go to my place,” he told her, jumping to his feet. “I think we should fly.”
12
Pascal was both disappointed and relieved that Kyla wasn’t at his house when he arrived, but he didn’t know how long his good fortune was bound to last. She had been known to leave him alone for weeks at a time but that had been before his drinking and fighting had gone out of control. Lately, Kyla had been at his house every day, sometimes twice.
But she was nowhere to be seen this night and he needed to find a quick solution to Lara’s presence.
She’ll need to get back too, he reasoned. She can’t stay here forever. She’s already been gone long enough to rouse Franz’s suspicions. I’ll have her in and out.
It was shortly after one a.m. when Pascal opened the door to the apartment. He gestured for Lara to sit while he went in search of drinks in the kitchen. He desperately needed hard liquor after the night he’d had.
“Do you want a drink?” he called out to her. She was carefully walking about the flat, touching decorative pieces and peering at the artwork on the walls as if she had never been in someone else’s home prior to that moment.
It isn’t a mansion, he thought with wry bitterness. She couldn’t give up everything Franz has provided for her, no matter what she says.
“What?” Lara called back.
“A drink. Do you want a drink?”
“Yes,” she agreed, nodding when Pascal poked his head back into the living room. “Yes, I will have some water. Thank you.”
“Are you sure you don’t want anything stronger? Vodka? Gin? Gasoline?”
She was startled by the last question and she raised her head, her eyes narrowing.
“Why would I need gasoline?”
She immediately read the wry expression on his face and smiled tightly as she realized he was making a joke.
“No, thank you. Water is fine,” she said before he could explain. “I forgot that you’re a smart-ass sometimes.”
Pascal shrugged and joined her in the living room where she had finally settled on the sectional couch.
You seem to forget a lot about me, he thought, the resentment again bubbling inside him. He placed her glass of water on a coaster in front of her, his eyes inadvertently trailing up her slender thigh toward her hips.
She’s so tiny, so much smaller than Kyla.
The thought was enough for him to wrench his eyes away fully and focus on his drink. A sarcastic smile formed on his lips.
“So, you really came here thinking I’d agree to be your assassin,” he mused, taking a swig of his whiskey. She blinked, staring intently at him, her head cocked to the side like she was trying to make sense of his question.
“I was hoping to appeal to your good sense, yes
,” she confirmed. “But maybe I overestimated you. Clearly you’re not the same boy who I remember either.”
Pascal’s mouth tightened into a fine line.
When they had flown back to his house in their bat forms, Pascal’s highly intelligent mind was racing with what to make of the situation. None of it made any logical sense when he thought about it. There had been lifetimes for Lara to make such a request and yet she was choosing now? Why?
Then it had dawned on him like a slap.
She purposely kept me out of the loop until she had me just where she wanted me. If I ever want to get back to the tribe, I’ll have to do what she wants, he realized.
The sudden flood of paranoia which Pascal was experiencing was completely out of character for the typically cool-headed man, but Lara’s appearance had thrown his head into a tailspin. Although he did not admit it to himself, he realized that he might have been resigned to the fact that he was going to remain in South Africa, at least until he was activated by Anatoli.
Assuming that ever happened.
A small part of him had looked forward to the routine of fighting with Kyla, the back and forth of their arrangement, the fire in their connection. He had become comfortable being this person, forgotten and alone.
Lara had changed everything and Pascal wished she would go and leave him in peace.
But it would not be so easy now that someone outside knew where to find him. Lara held his future in her hands and Pascal didn’t know what to make of her. Once upon a time, he might have trusted her but now, he was sure he did not.
He had also forgotten how lovely and alluring Lara could be when she turned on her charm.
Focus, Cal, focus. Figure out what she wants and send her on her way. You have dealt with worse than her in your life. Handle it and get her out of here so you can leave town.
“I’m going to assume that Franz sent you here,” Pascal said. “And I’m going to tell you the same thing I told you earlier—my loyalties are always to the tribe.”
Lara’s brow furrowed deeply as she struggled to make sense of his words.
“You really don’t get it,” she told him finally. “There is no tribe for you. You don’t exist to the tribe anymore. If you want back in, you’ll need to do what I said: kill Franz. Only then will you have a home to return to.”
Pascal snorted loudly and rolled his eyes in disbelief.
“Well, then consider me out. I’ve got a life here, Lara.”
“That’s not what your letter sounded like,” Lara murmured, also taking a sip of her drink. “It sounded like you wanted to run screaming from here.”
“Maybe at first,” he agreed hastily. “But things have changed now.”
“I thought you just said you were loyal to the tribe.”
Pascal scowled, loathing the way she turned it around on him.
“Lara, you need to get out of here. I’m not working alone and if anyone sees you here…”
Her eyes widened in surprise and Pascal felt his shoulders relaxing.
She doesn’t know anything about what’s going on here, he realized. That can work to my advantage.
“What does that mean?” she asked suspiciously. “Who else knows you’re here?”
“The less you know, the safer you are,” he replied evasively, unsure of how Kyla might react to Lara. He had never seen Kyla hurt anyone, but he had no doubt that there was a darkness in her that would certainly erupt if the situation warranted such an action.
Abruptly, Lara rose to her feet, her face pensive, and Pascal tensed, the feeling of smugness evaporating.
“Where the hell are you going now?” he demanded. The idea of her leaving was alarming even though he had just told her to leave.
“I’ll head home, I suppose,” she told him quietly. “I’m sorry if I have caused you distress. That wasn’t my intention. I had hoped that maybe you could help an old friend.”
“Distress?” Pascal could not believe how little sense any of this was making. Idly, he considered that he might be dreaming. “You’re asking me to kill the leader of our tribe. Not only kill him but kill him and take his place.”
Lara didn’t speak again as she sauntered across the floor and reached for the door but as she pulled on the knob, it flew inward and Kyla strolled in, her face flushed with anger.
Lara stepped back in shock, her blue eyes widening as she looked from Kyla to Pascal and back again.
A feeling of dread coursed through him, but Pascal scowled at Kyla.
“Really,” he growled. “Would it kill you to knock? Just once?”
He didn’t miss the look of hurt on Kyla’s face as Lara shoved past and disappeared into the night, leaving the two Sleepers to stare at one another. Yet her expression shifted when she looked at him.
“Well, well, well,” Kyla drawled. “Now you’re bringing home hookers.”
A feeling of defensiveness shot through him and he shook his head.
“She’s not a hooker,” Pascal muttered, feeling his face flush under Kyla’s scrutiny.
“No?”
“No.”
He didn’t add anything as Kyla ambled further into the house.
I should have seen her to a hotel or something, even if Lara is the devil. I don’t need anything happening to her on my watch and for Franz to find out that she was here.
He rose from his spot on the sofa and darted toward the front of the house, but Lara had already disappeared. He glanced both ways, unclear on how she could have vanished so quickly.
“Sorry I ruined your booty call,” Kyla hissed. “If I’d known…”
“She’s not a booty call,” Pascal grumbled, turning his full attention on Kyla. “What is it now? Have I missed curfew?”
“Something at city center,” she informed him as Pascal re-entered the house and closed the door behind him.
“Something bad always happens at city center,” he snapped, not making the connection. Kyla laughed dryly and moved to sit beside him, uninvited. Immediately, Pascal was overtaken by her closeness like he always was, and the conflicting emotions stole his breath for a moment.
Not the time, Pascal reminded himself but this time, it didn’t seem to dissuade him when he met Kyla’s dark eyes evenly. Her face was impassive, but he knew she could feel the energy surging between them. Lara had sent Pascal into a tailspin and tonight, he wasn’t ignoring the kinesis.
“No, I mean something really bad happened there,” Kyla told him, fixing her gaze on him. More heat surged through his body, but he couldn’t succumb, not yet.
“Are you going to elaborate, Kyla? Or are we playing twenty questions?” Pascal interjected impatiently, wrenching his eyes away if only by habit. He knew the temperature in the room was on the rise.
“They closed off Darling by the government housing. I swear that all of SAPS is on the scene. Forensics, dogs, everything. There was a massive blaze, sent up half the building. No one has any idea how the hell it started.”
The hairs on the back of Pascal’s neck began to rise.
A fire? Is that what she did? Set a fire? Could she call any more attention to herself? Or was that all part of her plan?
The heady feeling of being near Kyla began to fade away as Lara again overtook his thoughts.
“Do you know anything about that?” Kyla pressed.
Pascal’s head jerked up and he frowned.
“Why would I?” he demanded. “Are you going to accuse me of everything that goes wrong in this city now?”
Kyla laughed but there was no mirth in her expression.
“Not everything, Cal, just things that have your fingerprints all over it.”
He held her stare uncomprehendingly.
Did she follow him into the city?
A new spark of fear touched his lips but instead of embracing it, he did what he had wanted to do from the first moment he had laid eyes on Kyla.
Without warning, he dipped his head toward her, watching as her eyes grew large and confused. H
is lips grazed the flesh where her shoulder met her throat and a look of dizziness fell over Kyla’s face.
“W-what are you doing?” she breathed but he did not answer with words. Instead, he let his lips do the talking, his palms cupping her full breasts as his lips met hers.
This time there was no question and Kyla’s arms raised to encircle his neck, pulling his mouth to hers.
His grip on her tightened, one hand slipping down to pull up her skirt, a hand trailing along the skin of her upper thigh.
He paused to speak, his mouth inches from hers, tempting them beyond all control.
“I don’t know what it is about you,” he rasped, barely hearing his own words as something else possessed him. “But I haven’t wanted to touch someone as much as I have you. From the minute I saw you in that car…”
Kyla nodded, her eyes locking with his as she leaned forward to taste his lips. Their mouths crushed together and she sighed. He could sense that she wanted him on her, exploring every inch of her body, the urgency in her movements drawing him bravely onward, his strong arms pushing her back onto the sofa.
He grunted in frustration as he fumbled with the bodice of her top and suddenly, he ripped at the material, her breasts spilling out as the fabric tore away.
Kyla gasped and laughed, unperturbed by the ruined top. She did not care in the least that the expensive garment was cast aside like trash as her legs were propped over his shoulders and he dove into her center almost before she understood what was happening.
Kyla groaned, her calves tightening against his ears as Pascal’s tongue swept at her like a velvet scarf, precisely hitting the right spots as she slowly swung in rhythm to meet his stunningly accurate laps.
“Oh, Cal,” she moaned. Her cries caused his hands to tighten against her cheeks as he devoured her without mercy. His breathing grew ragged, his tongue rougher, and Kyla reached out to grab for something, her hands curling around the coffee table.
Pascal’s fingers fell into her and Kyla could take no more. Her body bucked up against him, his face fully entangled in her, and she released without hesitation.