“What, you have an idea to get her?” I said.
“I have a lead on something to help us with Cunningham,” he said. “I should have followed up on it before coming down here, but I was cocky, and you were—”
“Me? What do I have to do with it?”
“I wanted to see you in Sea City, and you ran away from me.”
“You didn’t want to see me. You wanted to bang me.”
“Which would involve looking at you, yeah?”
“Logan Gray, I am going to stab you.” I reached for my knife.
“Don’t,” he said, sighing. “Look, it just… you turning me down, watching you with that jackass? It’s all putting me in a bad mood.”
“Oh, is it?” I made my voice sickly sweet. “Well, imagine what kind of bad mood I’ve been in every time I woke up to find you not next to me in bed.”
He hung his head.
I sighed heavily. “What’s this lead?”
“Well, it’s not here,” he said. “I’m going off to check it out.”
“You’re leaving?”
“I’m here to say goodbye,” he said.
“Well, that’s a first.”
“Clarke, damn it, you know that I never mean to run off like that. It’s only that I get so…”
“Don’t,” I said. “You are what you are. And I’ll always care about you. You know that. I only wish you would stop trying to make it into anything else.”
His jaw twitched. “Well, anyway, I’ll be back. Once I figure this out, I swear, I’ll be back down here, and we’ll take down Cunningham and the rest of the vampires together. Until then, you just sit tight.”
“What? Just hang here twiddling my thumbs? I don’t think so.”
“You ran away from him earlier today,” said Logan. “You going to face him again without me?’
“Maybe,” I said. “Maybe you’ll find that lead, but it won’t matter, because I’ll already have taken care of everything.”
“Don’t get yourself killed,” he said.
“You have no faith in me at all, do you?”
His voice grew quiet. “If I lost you, I think it would break me.”
I felt a lump grow in my throat. “You bastard. You already have lost me. You lost me because you always leave me. If I was really so important to you—”
“Clarke.” He seized me suddenly, pressing his lips against mine, and it was like the air exploded in lights and sparks.
My body sprang to life, my sensitive parts suddenly hot and eager. I opened my mouth to him.
His tongue claimed me. His hands pushed aside the covers to my bed, exposing my night shirt.
I gasped against his lips.
His hands were on my bare thighs, traveling higher.
I pulled away. “Stop,” I breathed.
“Clarke,” he murmured, stopping his movement but not removing his hands. “I want you so badly.”
“No,” I said in a ragged voice.
He pulled back. “No?” It was as if he couldn’t believe it.
“You don’t get to do this to me again,” I said, my voice growing thick with tears. “Go away, Logan. Go far away. I don’t want anything from you.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
After that, I couldn’t sleep.
I was angry. Just so livid with him. How dare he kiss me like that? And how dare my stupid body betray me like that? How dare it respond to him?
Because he was right. I did want him. I wanted him. I always wanted him.
Stupid, stupid, stupid body.
I rolled around in bed for a while, trying to think of something else, anything else besides Logan and how confusing he was.
To distract myself, I tried to think of how it was I’d resisted Cunningham’s compulsion. I still couldn’t come up with anything.
But then I started to think that it didn’t matter. Whatever I could do, it worked. I didn’t want to stay here, waiting around for Logan, and I didn’t know how much longer I wanted to keep working with Naelen. There was only so much of him that I could even take. He was such a terrible flirt. It was nauseating.
Maybe it would be a good idea to take on Cunningham on my own. I could get back Reign and end this whole mess. Cunningham would be out of the way, and I could go back to Sea City.
Sure, it might be dangerous, but I thought I could handle it. And if it worked, everything would end up so much better.
I sneaked into Naelen’s room to get the keys to the rental car. I went in through the adjoining rooms.
I half-thought he’d wake up and talk me out of doing this crazy thing, but he was sleeping like the dead.
I took the car and drove back out to the house.
I decided it wasn’t a great idea to go in the same door that we’d gone in before. I didn’t want to go through the front door either. I was going to walk around the house until I found another door. There had to be one.
But when I got there—car parked out of sight, walking in on foot—I saw that Cunningham was out in the pool with several of the girls. Apparently, he wasn’t going to let a little thing like our impromptu visit mess up his swim time. It was cold outside—not very, very cold, but it wasn’t a hot summer night or anything like that.
As I approached the pool, I saw that the girls were shivering in their bikinis.
Cunningham had his head buried in one of their necks.
This was my chance.
I would get him while feeding.
So I took off at a run. I had both my bow and arrows and my machete with me. I figured the more weapons, the better. I clambered through the fence surrounding the pool, raising the machete over my shoulder.
Cunningham turned.
I swung the machete anyway.
He held out one hand.
I froze.
He’d used magic on me. And the magic had worked.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
Right about then, I basically wanted to do nothing other than get up and run the other direction and pretend that I’d never had this stupid, crazy idea in the first place.
But that ship had sailed. Here I was, too stupid to live, and now I was going to die for my idiocy. He was going to kill me in three, two, on—
Cunningham furrowed his brow. “Drop your weapons.”
Great idea. I dropped the machete, dropped the bow, took off my quiver of arrows. Oh, crap. He’d just compelled me, and it had worked on me.
I cringed. What if he compelled me to hurt myself? What if he compelled me to use the machete on myself? Oh, God, how had I ended up here again? I should have known better than this. I should have really known better than this.
He approached me. “I don’t understand.”
“Me either,” I said in a squeaky voice. “I thought I was extraordinary.”
He snatched me by the chin and peered into my eyes.
“Let go of me,” I said, and I took a step backwards, out of his grasp. Actually, what was I doing? I could run. I should. I took off at a run.
I got about three steps.
“Stop,” he called in a cold voice.
I stopped. “But you aren’t even looking in my eyes. You have to look into my eyes to compel me. That’s how compulsion works.” Of course, this wasn’t regular compulsion. But still. It had to follow some kind of rules, didn’t it?
“Turn around and come back here,” said Cunningham.
I did as he asked. “Don’t kill me,” I said. “I know you would want to, considering I was attacking you with a machete and all, but really, I’m too young to die, and I’m only here because things are really complicated with my ex, and he kissed me, and I went temporarily insane, and I thought I could stop you on my own, but clearly whatever happened earlier was a fluke, and—”
“Stop talking,” he said.
I did, gratefully. Apparently, when I was afraid for my life, I babbled. This wasn’t something that I particularly wanted to know about myself.
“Hold out your wrist,” he said.
I did. I couldn’t do anything but obey him. It was even somewhat pleasant to. Everything he said simply seemed like such a great idea.
He bared his fangs.
I shivered.
He burrowed them in my wrist.
I whimpered. It hurt. Not a lot, but it wasn’t pleasant.
He let go of me, dropping my wrist. “Nothing. You’re nothing. Not a dragon, not a vampire, not even some kind of human-looking drake.”
I clutched my wrist. It was still bleeding. Ow, ow, ow. It hurt worse now than it had when he had his teeth in me.
He shook his head at me. “Why couldn’t I compel you before?”
I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t going to do anything unless I was forced. I wondered if trying to run again would be a really stupid idea. Honestly, I wasn’t usually like this when it came to dangerous situations. When I faced dragons down, I was cool and collected. I liked to think of myself as tough.
Of course, rogue dragons were totally different. They were stupid. They weren’t capable of strategy or speech or anything other than blind attack. And I was good at killing them. I’d had a lot of practice.
But this? Facing down a vampire who stripped away all my defenses? It was terrifying.
“Answer me,” he said in an imperious voice. He was actually kind of attractive, that was the hell of it. He was very sure of himself, smooth and suave, and I wanted to make him happy. Or was that simply the compulsion?
“I don’t know,” I said.
He cocked his head to one side. “Why did you come here in the first place?”
I didn’t speak.
He sighed. “It’s going to be like pulling teeth with you, isn’t it?”
“Well,” I said. “The way I figure it, if there’s stuff from me that you need to know, then you’re probably not going to kill me. So, keeping it to myself is probably the best plan if I want to keep breathing.”
He chuckled. “I’m not going to kill you.”
“No?”
“Did I try to kill you earlier this evening? No. I let you go, didn’t I?”
“Yeah,” I said, “but I figured that you only did that because you were confused and bleeding and stuff.”
He gestured around himself at the women in bikinis. “I don’t tend to kill people. You know, it’s a common misconception that vampires want people dead, but we don’t. We like drinking blood. So, we like to keep people alive for that reason.”
“Yeah, but… we attacked you,” I said. Why was I pointing this out?
“You did.” He nodded. “That’s true. Yes, now that I’ve considered that, you’re right. I think I will have to kill you.” He bared his fangs and lunged at me.
I screamed. I tried to run backwards, but I slipped on the slick concrete around the pool. And then I toppled into the water with a splash.
When I surfaced, sputtering, Cunningham was laughing.
I treaded water, unsure of what to do. This water was freezing.
“I was joking,” said Cunningham. “I’m not going to kill you. You have the arrowhead.”
I froze. The arrowhead was the key? Well, obviously, it had to be. When I didn’t have it, and Eloise-or-Mara did, magic affected me. When I did have it, I was impervious to Cunningham’s tricks. Of course it was the damned arrowhead. God, had I drunk a bottle of stupid this evening or what?
I wasn’t treading water anymore, so I was sinking. I started to kick my legs again and popped back up to the surface of the water.
“Tell me your name, and tell me the truth,” said Cunningham.
“Clarke,” I said in a quiet voice.
“Clarke,” he said. “That’s a boy’s name, isn’t it?”
“It can be a girl’s,” I said.
He mused over that. “I don’t think so. I really don’t.”
I swam over to the side of the pool and held on. There. That was better. My legs had been getting tired.
“Clarke,” he said again. “Well, you’re a bit of a pain in the ass, Clarke. Rather a large pain in the ass, really. You’d better get out of the pool.”
I did, hauling myself up. In the night air, now sopping, I was even colder. I shivered. My teeth started chattering.
Cunningham laughed. “You look like a drowned rat. Absolutely silly. Really, it’s wonderful.” He closed the distance between us and put a hand on my cheek. “You know, Clarke, I like you. After you get me the arrowhead, maybe you can stay here with me and my girls. You may not have dragon blood, but I think I’d find you quite amusing.”
“I don’t think so,” I said through my chattering teeth.
“If I want it, you’ll do it,” he said. He touched my nose. “If I want to, I can own you. I think I might want to.” He looked me over. “Besides, I think you’d look good in a bikini.”
“I’d rather you just kill me,” I said.
He laughed again. “Oh, Clarke. You are delightful.” Then he grew serious. “Now, we’re going to go and get that arrowhead. I’d let you come in the limo with me, but you’re all wet, so you’ll have to take your own car. I assume you brought a car?”
“Y-yes,” I said, still shivering.
“Well, then, let’s go,” he said. “Back to wherever it was you left the arrowhead.”
* * *
Before I got in my car, Cunningham instructed me to drive straight to wherever I had the arrowhead, park in the parking lot, and then find him before I did anything else.
I drove back to the hotel, and he followed me in his limousine. He had a compelled driver, but he didn’t seem to have brought anyone else with him.
Once I parked the rental car, I shot a glance at the limo, which was idling in the parking lot.
Cunningham rolled the window down in the back of the limo. “Come here, Clarke,” he said.
I went to him. I didn’t have a choice.
“All right,” said Cunningham. “Now, tell me where the arrowhead is, and tell me the truth.”
“It’s in my bag in my room,” I said, wincing. Man, I hadn’t wanted to tell him that. I didn’t want to give this thing back to him considering it was the only weapon we had against him.
“Okay,” he said. “Then go to your room, get the arrowhead, but be sure only to touch it by the chain. Do not touch the arrowhead itself. Then change into some dry clothes and come back to me here. We’ll go back to my place together, all right?”
I nodded. So, apparently, I needed to touch the arrowhead for it to work. But if I did, then his power over me would end. I didn’t think that I could, though, because he had specifically ordered me not to do it.
Even as I thought this, my legs had already started working, carrying me inside the hotel.
I walked and I racked my brain. How could I stop this? How could I touch the arrowhead?
He’d ordered me to go to my room and pick it up by the chain and to change my clothes. Could I put it in my clothes, accidentally brush it somehow? Well, if I did it on purpose, it wouldn’t be an accident. I didn’t think that was going to work.
We were on the first floor, so I headed down the wing towards our adjoining rooms.
And then I realized that he hadn’t told me that I had to go straight to my room, only that I had to get there eventually. So, I could potentially stop somewhere on my way.
I went to Naelen’s room again and I pounded on the door. “Naelen!” I practically screamed. “Open the door!”
Nothing. I guessed I could go in my room and try the adjoining door, but then I’d be following Cunningham’s directions and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to deviate from them.
“Naelen!” I banged on the door. “God damn it, open up.”
Still nothing.
I was growing hysterical. “Naelen, damn it!”
The door opened. Naelen stood there, rubbing his eyes. “Clarke? Why are you wet?”
I dragged him out into the hall and over to my room. I unlocked the door quickly and yanked him in with me. “Get my bag,” I said, flipping on the ligh
t.
He flinched at the brightness. “What’s going on? Did you get hosed down or fall in the river or something? Were you with Logan?”
“No, Logan’s gone. Get my goddamned bag now.”
“Logan’s gone? What?”
“Get the bag! Or else I’m going to have to get it.”
“Fine, you get it.” He folded his arms over his chest.
“He told me to get the bag. If you don’t get it—” But now I was moving across the room. I picked the bag up, set it in my bed and carefully took out the arrowhead by its chain. It dangled from my fingers, catching the light. “Okay, Naelen, I need you to touch the arrowhead to my skin.”
“What?”
“Just do it,” I snapped.
He looked completely confused, but he shuffled over and picked up the arrowhead and put it against my skin. “I don’t know why you even still have this thing. I think it’s kind of gross that it came off a dead body and all that.”
I sighed in relief, feeling free. I hadn’t been exactly aware of the tethers that bound me to Cunningham, but now that they were gone, I felt better.
“Naelen, we have trouble,” I said. “And it’s all my fault. I’m sorry.”
“Trouble?” He still looked half-asleep. “What did you mean when you said that Logan was gone?”
“He came by my room and told me that he was leaving to hunt down some lead on Cunningham,” I said. “He said he’d be back and for us to sit tight in the meantime.”
Naelen snorted. “Sit tight? Seriously?”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t take it well either. So, I decided that since I was so extraordinary and all, I’d just go after Cunningham and get Reign back. I thought I could sneak up on him and take him down.”
Naelen sat down on the bed. “You went after Cunningham on your own?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Stupid, I know.”
“Not necessarily. You were the only one who could resist his compulsion.”
“Only because I had this.” I pointed at the arrowhead.
He raised his eyebrows. “It was this?”
“Yeah.”
“But how? It’s not made from dragons.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “But he wants it back. He compelled me to come up here and get it.”
“Oh, that’s why you needed to touch it,” he said. “Because you needed to break the compulsion.”
Smoke (The Slayer Chronicles Book 1) Page 13