by Sarah Fine
But then I’ll be on my way back to Ben, I thought quickly, pushing those dangerous thoughts away. That’s what I’ve been fighting for all along.
The sun had disappeared by the time we checked into a Super 8 just off the highway. Across the road was what looked like a mall, and I got my hopes up for a Ruby Tuesday, or, even better at this point, a Gap or an Express, someplace I could pick up a decent outfit so that I could change out of my grungy, bloody T-shirt and shorts. But as we got closer I realized there were no cars in the parking lots, no signs up. A casualty of a bad economy or maybe just bad planning, it was a maze of empty buildings in want of tenants.
Nearly staggering with fatigue by that point, I let Asa check us in and usher me into a room. I didn’t even protest as we both fell onto the bed. Being close to him felt natural and needed, and I was too tired to fight it.
He turned to me, his head on the pillow, dark circles under his eyes, his skin too pale for my liking. “Ready for this?”
“It has to come out sometime.”
He tapped his crooked nose. “But you didn’t answer my question.”
I winced. “There’s no other way, Asa. Don’t make me think about it now, though, okay?”
He stared at me, his honey-brown eyes slightly bloodshot. “Is he worth all this, Mattie?”
“Yeah,” I murmured.
“He treats you well?”
I looked away from his gaze. “He’s always treated me like a queen.”
“Uh-huh.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “You came after him, too. You’re risking a lot for him.”
“He’s my little brother. No matter what he’s done or how I feel about him, that won’t change.”
“At least you can admit it now. That’s why you were in Sheboygan that night I first met you, wasn’t it? You were trying to find out what happened to him. You’d seen it on the news and you couldn’t ignore it. You would have come to get him even if we’d never met. Why didn’t you just tell me?”
He sighed. “It was easier to live with if I didn’t have to explain it to someone else. If I didn’t have to say the words. Can you get that?”
“I guess I can. But you’re saying them now.”
“To you,” he murmured, then rubbed his face and turned on his back. “So what’s your excuse?”
“For what?”
“For not admitting the truth to me.”
My heart lurched. “The truth?”
“He used Knedas juice on you, didn’t he?” he asked quietly. “Before you even knew what it was, Ben used it on you. I could tell, that night when I first explained to you how manipulation magic worked.”
“I’m going to work that out with him,” I said, my voice sharp. “It’s between him and me.” Somehow, Asa knowing what Ben had done to me made the violation feel ten times worse.
A knock on the door ended our conversation. Asa slid off the bed and pulled his baton from his belt as he peeked through the gap in the thin, ratty curtains, then put the baton away and went to the door, opening it for Jack.
The old man looked like a bull as he strode into the room, his chin jutting out, framed by his salt-and-pepper beard. But he smiled when he saw me sitting on the edge of the bed. “I’ve been thinking so much about you, girl,” he said, opening his arms.
I stepped into a brief, firm hug, which ended when he took me by the shoulders. “I hear you got some wicked magic inside you now. Should we get it out?”
A cold sweat prickled along the back of my neck. “I guess we should.”
Jack gave me a curt nod. “Good. Because word on the street is that Zhong is gunning for you two after that stunt you pulled in Vegas.”
Asa cursed. “It’s out already?”
Jack laughed. “You can’t leave that kind of mess behind and not expect a boss to come after you. Especially Zhong. He has to save face. I had three people call me about it on the drive down. I think maybe we need to move this party along so we can all split.”
“Fine by me.” Asa pulled out the relic, the large pendant dangling from its thick gold chain. “But get ready. Like I said on the phone, this is like nothing you’ve worked with before.”
Jack’s eyes glittered. “How would you know, young man? Talk to me again when you’ve been around as long as I have.”
Asa chuckled and raised his hands in surrender, then grabbed a set of ropes from the paper hardware store sack. “Mattie, if you’re ready. Sounds like we need to get a move on.”
I pushed aside a twinge of nausea and reminded myself this whole ordeal was almost over. I’d be in Ben’s arms soon. “Okay.” I climbed onto the bed. “You’re going to tie me up?”
He nodded. “I couldn’t get you a gag, so we’ll have to improvise.”
Jack’s eyebrows went low. “Is that really necessary?”
Asa pulled a paint stirrer from his hardware store bag. “Unless you’re willing to part ways with your tongue, you’re going to want one, too.”
Jack accepted the stirrer and headed over to me, pulling a chair over next to the bed.
“Don’t you want to lie down?” I asked.
He squared his shoulders. “I’ve never laid down for a single transaction, young lady, and I’m not going to start now.” He leaned forward, a smile pulling at his lips. “And this isn’t my first original-relic rodeo, you know?”
My eyes went wide. “What?”
Asa looked shocked, too. “You’ve worked with other originals before?”
Jack winked at me. “We’ll talk about it on the other side. It’s the best story I’ve got.”
Knowing Jack had done this kind of thing before soothed my guilt and worry for him as Asa looped the ropes around my ankles and stomach and chest, securing me to the lumpy mattress. He leaned over me with one of the paint stirrers. “This is all I’ve got. But it’s going to be fine. You’ll be fine.”
I looked up into his eyes. “Promise?”
His mouth twitched into a half smile. “You trust me, Mattie Carver. Just admit it.”
“Do I have to?”
He leaned down, close enough to set my heart racing. “Yeah. You do.” His voice was quiet, but it vibrated right through me with complete authority, leaving no room for doubt.
“I trust you,” I whispered.
Jack cleared his throat. “Can’t we just—”
“Shh.” Asa gave him a cutting look. “You might have been around for a hundred years, but she hasn’t.” He looked down at me, and his expression softened instantly. “I’m right here, and I’ve got you.”
I know. But I didn’t get to say it, because he stuck the paint stirrer between my teeth a second later.
Jack held his own paint stirrer between his teeth and nodded at Asa, who had laid out all his supplies, including a new defibrillator, next to the bed. Asa hung the relic necklace, pendant open to reveal the lump of gold inside, around Jack’s neck, and Jack tucked it into his shirt, against his bare skin. He reached over and took my hand, and Asa wound a rope around our forearms, holding us together, skin to skin.
Asa’s eyes met mine. “Open up that vault when you’re ready, Mattie.”
I closed my eyes, my heart pounding. Inside me, I could feel that unsteady shift, the vault teetering on the edge of the cliff. I had been so focused on escaping, on surviving, that I hadn’t sensed it for a while, not since Asa had taken over in that little hotel room back in Bangkok and kept all my fears at bay. But now I had to deal with it again.
Except I couldn’t.
Jack’s fingers squeezed my upper arm, where my biceps was bunched tight in anticipation of the pain to come. “It’s okay, girl. Just relax.”
But if I did, the agony would be there, all of it. Unbearable and searing, devouring me. I spat the paint stirrer from my mouth. “I can’t.” It came out of me high-pitched and childlike and so truthful that my cheeks burned. “I can’t.”
“Think of Ben, Mattie,” Asa said. “Think of the moment you first see him again. Think of his
face.”
I clamped my eyes shut and tried picturing my love, but he kept going out of focus as the specter of agony rose in front of him. “Asa, I can’t!” My breaths were coming from me in uneven gasps. “I’m trying!” I needed to get it over with, but it was like allowing myself to fall over a cliff. My body wanted to survive. I couldn’t make it jump.
“Think of your future together. All the cute little babies you’ll have. Once you do this, all of that’s in front of you. Imagine it.”
I tried. With everything I had. But the panic had taken over, twisting me so tight that I had no control. Tears burned my eyes as I began to struggle against the ropes. “I can’t do this. Please. I can’t.”
“It’s okay, baby.” Asa’s thumb stroked along my throat. “Look at me, Eve.”
“But Asa—”
“Look at me,” he snapped.
I obeyed him.
“How do you answer me?” he murmured.
“Yes, sir.” My body was at war with itself, relief and terror twirling together in a tornado of confusion.
He regarded me for a moment, like he could see the storm in my eyes. “You belong to me. You know that, don’t you? You made that choice back in Bangkok, and there’s no going back from it. Mattie isn’t mine, but you are.”
Mattie isn’t. But I am. I stared up at him, my thoughts blanking out, unable to think past the warm honey tint of his eyes.
“You know the truth,” he said. “You can’t escape from it. You’re mine. Say it.”
My lips parted. I wanted to say it. But a twinge of warning, of knowing this was another step down a road I shouldn’t even be on, made my breath hitch.
Asa edged even closer, his long, lean body stretched out next to me, pulling the ropes over my body impossibly tight. I could smell his sweat, feel the heat pouring from him. His fingers wrapped over my throat, gentle but utterly dominant. “Say. It.”
The words came out before I could stop them. “I’m yours, sir.”
“That’s right. So you’re going to do as I say, aren’t you, Eve? Whatever I ask you to do.”
The fear rose up again, making my whole body shake.
“Asa,” Jack said, sounding wary. “Maybe we should—”
“No,” Asa replied, never taking his eyes from mine. “She can do this.”
“I can’t,” I whispered. “I’m too—”
“I didn’t say you could speak.” Asa’s voice was like a whip against my skin. But then he lowered his head until the tips of our noses touched. “But since you feel the need to do something with your tongue . . .”
His mouth was on mine an instant later, hot and possessive, his stubble scraping my chin. I moaned as I tasted a hint of salt, as he thrust his tongue between my lips. His fingers slid around the back of my neck, pulling me up as he deepened the kiss. Every inch of me was taut, straining against the ropes to get closer to him. I wanted his weight on me. I wanted his skin against mine. I wanted him inside me. My whole body was alight with that want, especially as one of his hands stroked down my side and closed around the back of my thigh, hard, awakening a new craving. He wrenched my legs apart, his fingers digging into my backside, and I wanted more. I didn’t want him to be gentle. He owned me, and I wanted him to take me, to conquer me, to force me to submit. I was ready to beg for it.
And then he pulled away. His breaths sawed from him as he pushed the paint stirrer between my teeth again. “Now let it go for me, baby. Give it up to me. Everything you have.”
Every part of me tingling, wet with desire, on fire for him, I had no choice but to do as he said. I felt the tipping, the moment spent on the edge, and I didn’t try to stop myself as I fell. I didn’t care what would happen. It was the surrender that mattered.
The agony tore its way out of me, first a slice and then a giant gash of pain, ripping through my chest and stomach, up my neck and down my legs. My thoughts were broken glass on soft flesh, obliterating hope and love and future and past. Too late I realized this would go on forever, that this was me now, every cell, every molecule, every last piece consumed with hurt.
Then, with a sudden crack and a hard jerk, my world filled with sound, the pain narrowing to the sharpest of points as it stabbed straight through me. My eyes fluttered open, my vision blurring as I took in the blood splattered on my chest, across the bedspread, against the wall.
Jack’s forearm was still tied to mine. His fingers twitched against my upper arm before going still. He was no longer in his chair, and his weight was dragging me toward the edge of the bed. Asa was shouting my name as glass shattered and dust swirled in the air above my head.
I had no idea what had happened. No idea if I was dying or dead or more alive than ever.
But one truth came to me, as bright and jagged as the pain that lanced through my chest, as Asa descended on me, knife in hand, his face spattered with blood and his eyes wild.
Something had just gone very, very wrong.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
I was too stunned to scream as Asa landed on me and hacked at the ropes holding my body to the bed. He was cursing under his breath, flinching at every cracking noise. Gunfire, I thought vaguely as Asa cut the final rope and yanked me right off the foot of the bed. We landed in a sprawl, him hunched over me, holding my head to his chest as my body buzzed with shock. For a moment, I could feel his heartbeat, fierce and pounding.
“Are you okay?” he said, panting, laying my head on the floor and looking my body over. He shoved his hand up my shirt and pressed his palm between my breasts. His brow furrowed. “I think we got it all out . . . ? Dammit. It’s so fucking hard to tell with you.”
My face was wet, and when I reached up to wipe it, the severed rope still secured to my wrist flopped against my chest. My trembling fingers came away red, but they felt strangely disconnected from the rest of me. “Is Jack all right?”
Asa’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “He’s fine now, Mattie. Don’t worry about him. Can you scoot over toward the door? Stay low.”
“Why?” I craned my neck and started to push toward the corner of the bed so I could see the windows and door.
Asa’s hands became iron around my waist, holding me where I was. “Sniper. Probably Zhong’s.”
“But the curtains were closed.”
“The shooter would have been a sensor. And Jack would have been lit up like the fucking Fourth of July. So easy to see . . .” Asa shook his head, looking like he was going to be sick. “They’ll be up here in a few seconds. We’re going to have to run like hell. Can you do that?”
I rubbed at the lingering pain in my chest, and Asa frowned as he watched me. “I have to get the relic,” he said. “Then we’re going out the door.”
“What’s going to keep the sniper from shooting us?”
He left my side, commando-crawling around the corner of the bed and coming back a moment later with his elbows and chest soaked in red. His face was dripping sweat, and the bloody necklace was around his neck. “Because I’m going to use the relic against them.”
I stared at the pendant. “But if you open that, what’s it going to do to y—”
“Stop questioning me,” he snapped. “Get to the fucking door and be ready to run on my signal.”
I hated the look on his face, the circles under his eyes, the pallor of his skin, the way his neck was already red from the rub of the necklace, poisonous to him in a way it was to no one else. “But maybe I could do it,” I said. “And you could run.”
His eyes met mine. “You don’t know how, and this isn’t the time to learn.”
My own eyes burned at the glitter of pain in his, and maybe he could read my fear, because he moved closer and our gazes locked. “I need to concentrate, Mattie. And that’s only going to happen if I know you’ll be safe.”
I felt an echo of the suffering the relic caused, a needle of agony deep in my chest. He was about to turn it on our enemies—and on himself. But I knew him well enough to understand that he wa
s going to lose it if I didn’t do as he said. “Okay. You’re in charge.”
He reached to touch my face, but then seemed to realize his fingers were stained with blood. His hand became a fist. “Good. Go.”
Dread coiling inside me, I crawled over to the corner of the bed and looked toward the door. The air was swirling with plaster dust and carried a metal tang that settled heavy on my tongue. I could see the lights from the parking lot through the thin curtains, which were now dotted with bullet holes. In my periphery, along the side of the bed, there was a dark shape, unmoving. I knew it was Jack, and I knew he was dead.
Asa edged in next to me, peering at our only exit. “I’m going to open the door.”
“You want me to run to the car?”
He shook his head. “That’s what they’re expecting. Head for that mall across the street. Find a place to hide.”
“And you?”
“I’ll be right behind you.”
“You’d better.”
His mouth twitched into a half smile. Then he pushed me toward the door. My knees rubbed against the carpet. A bloody rope was still dangling from my forearm. My heart was an engine, revving, with nowhere to go.
Asa guided me against the wall next to the door and nodded at me. Just like in Bangkok, I wondered if it was a reassurance or a good-bye. He reached up, turned the knob, and yanked the door wide. “Stay low, and run. I’ve got this.”
It was another leap of faith, because no sooner had he said it than the air filled with the staccato cracks of gunshots. I pushed off, my thoughts blank and dark, my eyes on the empty shells of the buildings across the street. Behind me, Asa let out a strained, strangled moan, but I forced myself not to turn and look. He’d said he could handle it.
And a moment later, I knew he had, because the night was filled with screaming, coming from the parking lot near our car. I sprinted past a gas station on the corner, wondering how many people had already called 911 in response to the gunshots, wondering how long it might take police to get to us. At the sound of more gunfire, I hazarded a glance over my shoulder, only long enough to register someone sprinting across the parking lot. What if they’d gotten Asa and were coming for me?