Sweet Temptation

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Sweet Temptation Page 33

by Wendy Higgins


  “Kaidan, if anything happens to me—”

  I jerk, and my eyes snap open, catching hers. “Don’t! Don’t you dare finish that sentence. Nothing is going to happen to you.”

  The pit of dread opens up inside of me. I don’t want to talk about this, but she is persistent and unnervingly gentle.

  “If we both, you know, end up down there . . . in hell. We can make it through together. We’ll keep each other strong until it’s time for our judgment.”

  I’ve never heard anyone talk about hell in this way. As if it’s something that can be faced and endured. I swallow hard at Anna’s vision. To think that even in complete darkness and despair, our souls can cling to each other and still feel this love. I want this dream of hers to be true. I want to cling to this one.

  “I’ll never leave your side,” I tell her. “I swear it.”

  I hold her tight until she falls asleep. And at some point, I let myself drift away, as well.

  “No more sex.”

  I blink several times at Anna as we stand outside the car the next morning. Have we been married long enough for her to say that?

  “Just until after the summit,” she rushes on.

  The summit. The summit where we might die. And then we’ll never have sex again anyway. What rubbish.

  I am not ready for this conversation. I want to go back to last night.

  “Kaidan . . .” She takes my hands in hers and tries to explain, but I am numb. “You have to pretend not to like me. It sucks, but it’s the smartest plan. If we’re both going to survive this, which I really think we can, and will, this is our best bet. You’re better at hiding your feelings than I am, but at this point it doesn’t matter if they think I have feelings for you. You can even say you made me fall for you to lure me in. Your father trusts you to find me and get me to the summit on your own. That’s huge. He has to think you’re in his pocket until the very last minute. We’ll have freedom to communicate with each other and warn the others. Do you really want to jeopardize one of the only things we have going for us?”

  I close my eyes.

  Why must she be such a reasonable, positive little pixie?

  I squeeze her hands.

  “No, I don’t,” I say. “I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever I have to do. Or not do.”

  I’m about to ask for one last shag when Anna says firmly, “From here on out, no kissing, no holding hands or touching until this is all over. No doing anything that could look suspicious.”

  Her eyebrows go up and I reluctantly nod, then let her hands slide from mine. I am secretly not in agreement, though I understand her caution. When did Anna become the cautious one when it comes to being caught?

  This blows.

  I take care of Father’s death rubbish later in the morning—funeral home, Realtor, and lawyer. It’s not hard to feign mourning, being as I’ve been sworn off sex. I sign loads of papers and nod, frowning, as people pat my back and shake my hand, and say they’re sorry for my loss.

  If only that arsehole were truly dead.

  I take Father’s urn and all the paperwork, and leave the lawyer’s office, grumpy as ever.

  The plan is to call Father and tell him I’ve captured Anna, but every time I think about it I want to be sick.

  Anna is ready. Her father is ready. The other Neph are at the ready. I’m the only one who’s not bloody ready. But I tell myself I’ll keep playing along until it gets to be too real. Then I’ll call it off and take us into hiding. I’ll force her. I’m bigger than her.

  It’s after one in the afternoon when we get to my old house. Whisperers are still out searching for Anna, and I figure they won’t bother looking there. I walk her down to my old room and she glares at the bed like it’s a murder scene, probably imagining how it’s been worked. I should have taken her upstairs to use the shower, but the other bathrooms have been emptied. I clear my throat and give her a towel.

  She goes in the bathroom and I turn on the stereo. I sit on the edge of the bed and lean my forehead against my hands as the music fills my ears. I hope it will drown out all my thoughts of what’s to come. Anna doesn’t take very long in the bathroom. When the water shuts off I switch off my stereo and look at my dresser. A dark thrill snakes across my skin as I eye the second drawer.

  I have to make this “capture” of Anna look believable, don’t I?

  I slide open the drawer and see the flash of silver in the corner—my high-grade handcuffs. I take them out and shut the door. I can hear Anna humming and I glance around for whisperers. How she can feel content enough to hum is beyond my understanding. Must be the angel blood. I sit back on the bed and turn the handcuffs over and over in my hands while Anna gets ready.

  She opens the door and I slowly lift my eyes to her. She’s fresh and natural with her summery clothes and wet hair. She stares at the handcuffs with apprehension as I turn them over. That’s good. I want her to be scared.

  “It’s not too late to run,” I say.

  She stares a minute more, then whispers, “Yes, it is.”

  She stays exactly where she is when I stand and move toward her. I watch her chest rise and fall a bit faster as I stand before her and slide the bag from her arm. I watch her face and she says nothing as I click the cuffs first around one wrist, and then the other. Her breathing is quicker now, and she’s right to be frightened. She’s mine and I will do what I want with her. That includes throwing her arse into a car and disappearing into the boonies of West Virginia. I hear it’s quite nice there.

  I look down at her body and the severity of the metal holding her wrists together. The contrast is something beautiful.

  “Damn.”

  “What?” she whispers.

  “You look amazing in handcuffs. And you’re officially my prisoner.”

  I’m blasted with the warm scent of pears and freesia and I know that if I wanted to, I could make Anna take back that “no sex” rule.

  “We can’t,” she says, reading my mind. But her words are breathy and unconvincing.

  We most definitely can. And the low pain in my abdomen begs me to.

  She fumbles for words, trying not to look in my eyes. “Remember, you told your father you don’t like me. You’re not supposed to want me. The whisperers could find us any second. We can’t lose our advantage.”

  Mm-hm.

  “It’s time to call him, Kai. Tell him you’ve found me. And then we’ll call the others to let them know it’s starting.”

  Wait. Call him? Now? I shake my head. “Not yet—”

  “Yes. Now. Let’s get it over with before we lose control and ruin everything.” She sounds steely and passionate. And scared. But it kills me that it’s not the Dukes she seems afraid of—her fear seems to be that we, I, am going to ruin our opportunity to take them by surprise.

  Why did this have to happen so fast? We haven’t had enough time.

  My thoughts are punctured by the feel of Anna’s hand on me. Down there.

  Jackpot.

  I look down, and she’s pulling my mobile from my pocket, holding it out to me.

  Damn. Major false alarm.

  “That was brave,” I tell her, but she doesn’t smile. She remains completely serious, and I don’t like it one bit.

  “It’s time,” she whispers.

  No . . .

  She is still holding out the phone and I feel dizzy as I take it. She goes up on her toes and kisses my cheek, staying there, so close. “I love you, Kai. Let’s bring them down. You and me and the others, together. We’ll use the element of surprise while we have it. It’s our time.”

  Her words ping through me, and her desperation, her optimism, seep into the cracks of my heart just enough to make me momentarily feel what she feels: hope. This is our chance. Our only chance. Eventually the Dukes will learn about each of us disloyal Neph, and we can spend our lives running in fear, but they will find us and pick us off one by one.

  This, right now, is the best chance we possibly have to get rid of
them and live a life here on earth without them. Anna’s eyes plead with me to support her, and I want to. I do.

  I nod and stare down at my phone, then pull up Father’s new number. I think about nothing except that sliver of hope. My throat nearly collapses when I hear his new voice answer.

  “Father . . .” Oh, God. What have I done? I look at Anna and she nods. I open my mouth and can hardly believe when the next words tumble out. “I’ve got her.”

  The second I say it, all of the hope abandons me.

  “You’re kidding me!” He whoops loudly and laughs like a damn hyena.

  Oh, God. Oh, God.

  “She’s cuffed,” I say stupidly, feeling like I have to say something.

  “Did you find the sword?”

  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.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Anna’s Vice

  “Trash the hotel,

  Let’s get drunk on the minibar.”

  —“Fancy” by Iggy Azalea

  That 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 terrib
le 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.

 

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