Blood Heart

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Blood Heart Page 8

by Lexi C. Foss


  The Ichorian shrugged as if to say, Perhaps.

  Jayson locked up his condo and followed the leather-jacket-wearing assassin down the hall and stairs. The fact that he presented his back to Jayson was a sign of trust, a way of returning the favor for agreeing to the impromptu drink rather than slamming the door in the man’s face.

  “How is your wooing of the sexy redhead going?” Ezekiel asked casually as they walked.

  “I’m not wooing her.”

  “Oh, I agree it’s not going as expected,” the Ichorian replied, nodding. “A pity after that pizza date in Brooklyn went so well. Perhaps you should try calling the woman more? I hear they like that.”

  Jayson resisted the sudden urge to drive a blade down the other man’s throat and focused on keeping his voice calm. “I had no idea you were so bored, Zeke.” Or that you followed us to Brooklyn.

  How could he keep Lizzie safe if he didn’t even sense a lethal assassin trailing their every move?

  “More like curious.” Ezekiel flashed another one of those terrifying grins. “Still, what gives? Why woo her one night and ignore her the next? That sounds like a woman’s game.”

  “I’m not trying to woo her,” Jayson said again.

  “Right you are, Jay. Because you’re doing a shit job of it.” Ezekiel shook his head as he stopped in front of a coffee place only a few blocks from the condo. “Shall I show you how it’s done?”

  Over my dead body.

  Jayson swallowed his desire to throttle Zeke and redirected the conversation. “When you said you wanted a drink, I thought you meant at a bar.”

  “This is a bar of sorts. They just happen to serve coffee.”

  Suspicion tightened his chest. He may have lost touch with the Ichorian over the centuries, but he knew the assassin’s proclivities did not include relaxing in casual locations.

  “What are we really doing here, Zeke?”

  “Playing,” he replied as he opened the door. “After you.”

  This isn’t going to end well.

  And that thought was confirmed when he spied Stas and Lizzie sitting on a couch across from the entrance. Big brown eyes met his, widened, then narrowed.

  “Ah yes, she’s sour with you indeed.” Ezekiel nudged Jayson’s arm. “Let’s see if I can’t help fix it?” The Ichorian started toward the duo with a confident swagger.

  Fuck.

  He knew Ezekiel had a game in mind, but he didn’t expect this one. It took all manner of control to keep a straight face as he trailed behind the sadistic assassin. Lizzie’s glower didn’t help, and neither did the concerned expression on Stas’s face as she glanced up from her coffee mug.

  “Jayson?” Lizzie asked, her expression confused and tinged with hurt. “I thought you were traveling on business.”

  “We were,” Ezekiel replied before Jayson could utter a word. “We just returned this evening and were searching for a place to have a drink when Jayson saw you inside.” He gestured to the giant glass windows overlooking Broadway.

  Well, at least he didn’t call me Jedrick.

  Lizzie peered at Ezekiel, her eyebrows inching up slightly. “You’re coworkers?”

  “More like business rivals,” the assassin replied smoothly and extended a hand. “I’m Kiel, by the way.”

  She pinched her lips to the side, but manners won as she accepted his gesture and shook his hand. “Lizzie.”

  “I know,” Ezekiel replied. “Jayson won’t stop talking about you.”

  Wow.

  If Jayson didn’t want to kill him before, he did now.

  “When he saw you from outside, he suggested we ask to join you, but now he’s being shy.” He tsked. “It’s very unlike him. I daresay your beauty has tied him up in knots. Scared him speechless, hmm?”

  Oh, for fuck’s sake. He’d painted Jayson as a pansy. A knife between those black eyes would make for a fantastic facial ornament. Maybe he’d add another to the man’s groin. Ezekiel always did fancy metal decor, hence the random lip piercing.

  “What Kiel is trying to say is that we’re here for a cup of coffee and will be leaving you alone in a minute.” Jayson gestured to the counter, but of course, Zeke didn’t move.

  “Oh, but you’ve told me so much about her. I want to learn more. You wouldn’t mind if we joined you for a bit, would you?” Ezekiel’s placating tone made Jayson’s skin crawl.

  Damn it.

  Say no, Red.

  “Uh…” Lizzie looked to Stas for approval, but the blonde was focused on Ezekiel’s profile. “I mean… I think that’s okay?” She seemed to be waiting for Stas to speak up, but her lips were firmly closed, her attention on the leather-clad Ichorian.

  Could she sense the lethal air surrounding Ezekiel?

  All the Hydraian Elders wanted Stas out of the city. It was dangerous, but she ignored their wishes. Would this finally force her to see reason? Not exactly his preferred method, but fear could be one hell of a motivator.

  “Excellent,” Ezekiel murmured. He relaxed onto the couch cushion catty-cornered to Lizzie. “Get us a round, yeah?”

  Jayson folded his arms, unamused. “It’s not a pub, Kiel.”

  “Right. I’ll take a cappuccino.”

  His eyebrows inched upward. “And I’m paying?”

  “Obviously.” Ezekiel turned to Lizzie and Stas. “Would you ladies like anything?” He eyed Stas’s mug. “Perhaps another latte, darling?”

  Her knuckles went white around the ceramic as she met his gaze. And all the color drained from her face.

  No response.

  Lizzie frowned at her friend before gazing up at Jayson. “I’m okay, thank you.”

  “I say, are you all right?” Ezekiel asked, his tone holding a touch of amusement as he studied Stas. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  She cleared her throat. “No. Sorry.” She stood suddenly. “I’m just going to grab a water.”

  “Jayson can do that for you,” Ezekiel offered.

  “I’m good,” Stas said, waving him off. “I’ll be right back.”

  Lizzie frowned after Stas as she walked stiffly over to the counter.

  “You should go with her, Jay,” Ezekiel encouraged. “Order our drinks.”

  Jayson narrowed his gaze. If you touch her, I will kill you.

  Isn’t this fun? Ezekiel seemed to reply. “Go ahead. I promise not to bite or misbehave while you’re away.” He flashed a conspiratorial glance at Lizzie. “He’s terribly overprotective.”

  Funny, Jayson thought, irritated. “I’ll be right over there.” He spoke the words for Lizzie alone. One scream and he would be here.

  “Okay,” she replied, her brow furrowed. She likely thought he was insane. Not for the first time, Jayson wished Lizzie knew the truth.

  He kept her in his periphery as he moved through the coffee shop and flinched when Ezekiel made her laugh.

  No way would this end well.

  Nails bit into his bicep through his sweater, distracting him from his mission, and he met a pair of terrified green eyes. His arm slipped around Stas’s shoulders on instinct as he maneuvered her out of sight of Lizzie and Ezekiel.

  “What’s wrong?” he whispered.

  She clutched her phone to her chest as if it were her only armor.

  “Talk to me, sweetheart,” he said, voice low. No one had noticed the strange embrace yet, but it was only a matter of time.

  “He… That man…” She shuddered and pressed her forehead to his chest. If Lizzie saw this, their cover would be blown. Jayson wasn’t supposed to know Stas.

  Ezekiel oozed a lethal air that she’d obviously picked up on, and he was particularly deadly to her as a Nizari assassin. “You recognize him.”

  She nodded vigorously.

  “Because Issac gave you his description, or is it a sense?” he asked, curious. Fledglings were so rare these days that their innate abilities remained a bit of a mystery, and Stas was far from typical.

  “No.” The single word sounded so br
oken he had to pull her away to study her face.

  Tears.

  Horror.

  And such deep sorrow.

  “Okay, I really need you to talk to me, Stas.” This woman had faced other immortals with similar dispositions without reacting like this. She had survived a Conclave, for crying out loud. A Nizari assassin should scare her, but this went beyond fear.

  She hiccuped. “Jay…” She squeezed her eyes closed and took a deep breath. “That…” Another breath. “That’s the Ichorian who killed my parents.”

  *

  “So, you work in acquisitions?” Lizzie asked, curious. Kiel’s long black hair, lip piercing, and leather jacket appeared more rocker than businessman.

  He smirked. “I do, yes. For a rival company of sorts.”

  “But you’re friends?”

  “Yes, I suppose we are, in a manner of speaking.” He crossed one leg over the other and relaxed against the arm of the couch. “You could say we have a long history.”

  “Did you go to school together?” she asked.

  “We trained together, yes.”

  That was an odd way to phrase it, but most of his mannerisms and phrases were different. So was his accent. “Where are you from?”

  He chuckled. “That’s a complicated question. Define from.”

  “Uh, like where you were born?”

  “Babylon,” he replied, not missing a beat.

  She blinked at the too-familiar name. “Like the ancient city?”

  “The very one. And you?”

  “Okay, but hold on, are you saying you’re from the actual city of Babylon, as in the area from, what was it, the Mesopotamia period?” Lizzie didn’t major in history, but that sounded right. “Or do you mean a city called Babylon?”

  He leaned closer to her, his black eyes smoldering with gold embers. “What do you think?”

  “That you clearly mean a city named after Babylon.” His pale skin suggested northern roots, and no one would refer to that area in the Middle East as Babylon. They would call it Iraq, or whatever city it was now called in that country.

  “Sure.” He smiled. “And where were you born?”

  “New York City.”

  “Are you sure about that?” he asked.

  She stared at him. “Yes.”

  He nodded. “I see. Fascinating. And you’ve lived here your very short life?”

  Another odd phrase, but she went with it. “Yes, in Manhattan.”

  “Do you ever tire of it?” he asked, those hypnotic eyes captivating hers. She wouldn’t call him handsome as she would Jayson, but sexy, in a very dark way.

  “Sometimes,” she admitted, recalling his question. “But I don’t know where else I would live.”

  “Greece, I imagine.” Another quick reply that left her baffled.

  Of all places to mention… “Why Greece?”

  His Cheshire-cat grin reminded her of the devil. Alluring, yet evil. But whatever he planned to say was silenced by Jayson setting a tray of cups down rather loudly on the end table between their couches.

  “Cappuccino,” he said flatly.

  “Brilliant. Thanks, mate.” Kiel plucked it off the tray and took a sip. His nose wrinkled, but he didn’t comment.

  Lizzie glanced at the counter for Stas but didn’t see her.

  “Your friend is making a phone call,” Jayson explained as he took Stas’s vacated seat beside Lizzie. “She introduced herself then asked me to let you know. Something about work.”

  Of course. The CRF owned her best friend’s soul now. “I see. Kiel was just telling me I should move to Greece.”

  “Was he?” Jayson murmured. “Well, it is a beautiful country with fantastic weather and the islands are nice, but I’m not sure why Kiel would recommend it. I don’t believe he’s been there often.”

  His friend peeked at them over his coffee cup. “Oh, I’ve been there more than you realize.”

  “I bet.” Jayson reached over Lizzie for his own coffee mug, brushing her breasts in the process.

  A surge of heat crept up her neck, stemming from her hardening nipples.

  Crap. Her thin, lacy bra and violet dress wouldn’t hide the reaction well. Maybe he will think I’m cold.

  Or not notice at all.

  He didn’t show any outward reaction as he balanced the mug against his thigh with one hand. “How was your week, Red?”

  “Uh, fine.” Boring. Long. Sad. Lonely. When did it get so hot in here? She cleared her throat and searched for a safe topic. “How was your business trip?”

  “There was a minor break in the plan, but I think we’re close to finishing up our project.”

  Kiel leaned forward with interest. “And what project is that, Jay?”

  “None of your business, Kiel.”

  “Oh, if only that were true,” he replied with a twist of his lips. He finished his cappuccino and set it on the table. “That was mediocre at best.”

  “Grabbing a drink was your idea.”

  “Yes, yes, it was.” The lean man stood and stretched long arms over his head before sighing. “I think I may go scout for a proper drink elsewhere. I assume you would prefer to stay here?”

  “The company is significantly better,” Jayson replied. “So, yes.”

  “You wound me, old friend.” Kiel didn’t appear wounded at all, just amused. “Please tell your friend I’m sorry we didn’t get to properly meet. Perhaps next time. I’ll try not to appear so ghostly.”

  Lizzie’s brow furrowed. “I’m not clear on what that was about, but I’m sure she’ll be happy to meet you at some point.” Not that she had any idea when that would be or if she would ever see this eccentric man again.

  “Oh, I doubt that, but time will tell,” he replied cryptically. “Jay, as always, a pleasure. Stay sharp, yeah?”

  Jayson rested his arm across the back of the couch, behind Lizzie’s head, and gave his friend a meaningful look that she couldn’t interpret.

  “Likewise, Z,” Jayson said.

  “Cheers, Jay,” Kiel murmured. “Lovely to meet you, Lizzie. I’ll see you again soon.”

  “Uh, nice to meet you too.” And when?

  He winked and sauntered toward the exit without a backward glance.

  “Jay,” Lizzie repeated after the man disappeared through the door. “Is that your nickname?”

  “Yeah, most people call me Jay.” With one hand, he swirled the coffee in his mug against his thigh while his other arm remained stretched out behind her head. “Of all my friends for you to meet, that’s not the one I would have chosen to introduce you to first, or even last.”

  “Why not?”

  Jayson focused on his cup as if it held all the answers. “Let’s just say, he’s bad news.”

  She nodded in understanding. That much she had gathered from his demeanor, though there was a charm to him as well. “He’s certainly different.”

  “That’s an understatement.” He sipped his coffee with a grimace and set it on the table. “I hate to agree with Kiel, but that’s crap.”

  Lizzie grinned. “Is the coffee in Greece better?”

  “It is.”

  “Which you know because you’ve lived there?” She kept the question light and innocent, not letting on to how much she truly wanted the answer.

  But he saw right through it.

  “Oh, Red.” His arm fell to her shoulders as he leaned into her personal space. “I believe you owe me cookies first.”

  “I didn’t know when you would be back.” A sad excuse since she never intended to bake them anyway, but he didn’t know that.

  “Uh-huh. You could have called to ask.”

  “And you could have texted me at any point to say hello, but you didn’t.”

  His chuckle was low and sexy, and far too intimate. “So what you’re saying is, if I want cookies, I need to message you?”

  She swallowed, her mouth dry. Somehow this man had turned baking into a seductive topic. Visions of him drizzled in chocolate swept throu
gh her mind. Yes, please.

  But the clearing of a throat interrupted the moment.

  Issac stood in front of them with his arm around Stas. They both wore matching expressions of disapproval.

  “Uh, hi, Issac.”

  “Elizabeth,” he returned. “Introduce me to your friend.”

  She bristled at the demand in his tone. “Introduce yourself.”

  “Fine.” He stared straight at Jayson. “Issac Wakefield.”

  “Jayson Masters,” her friend replied with an easy smile. He didn’t remove his arm from her shoulders but did shift slightly to give her more space. “You seem uptight. Maybe you need to sit down.”

  “Funny,” Issac replied. “I was about to escort Aya back to her flat. You should join us.”

  Jayson chuckled. “Yes, sir.”

  “What if we’re not ready to leave?” Lizzie snapped, irritated. She didn’t know what the hell had gotten into Issac or why her best friend wasn’t calling him on his bullshit, but Lizzie wouldn’t stand for it. Billionaire or not, he couldn’t tell her what to do.

  “It’s okay, Red,” Jayson murmured. “We can go.”

  “Please, Liz,” Stas said. “Can we hang out at the condo? I need something stronger than a coffee.”

  Lizzie noted the puffy circles beneath her best friend’s eyes and the slight redness to her cheeks. Almost as if she’d been crying. “Did something happen?”

  “Nothing I can’t handle, but I would feel better at home.” Stas gave her a pleading look, one she rarely used.

  Girl code took over.

  If Stas needed to go home, for whatever reason, Lizzie would agree. And she wouldn’t ask questions. She learned a long time ago that they rolled right off Stas. Her best friend was the type to open up, but only when ready.

  “Sure,” Lizzie said. “Yeah, we can go.”

  Jayson stood first and held out his hand for Lizzie to help her up. She didn’t really need it, but she accepted anyway. When he didn’t let go and linked their fingers together, her heart skipped a beat. Issac’s glower at the obvious display of affection only worsened the effect.

  They were friends.

  But not.

  Or more?

 

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