by Zoe Chant
He let his hand drift near her bowl. Hers was cold, too. It was both of theirs, then.
In an undertone, Nick said, “Raluca, you don’t have to eat it.”
“It’s quite pleasant.” Raluca took another spoonful.
She was obviously going to be polite if it fucking killed her. For the first time, Nick had a sense of how hard it might be to be a princess sometimes. Sure, eating cold soup was nothing compared to the shit that poor people went through, but it was no fun, either. And there was no reason she should put up with it.
“If you don’t want to send it back yourself, I’ll send it back for you,” Nick said. “Waiter!”
A waiter was instantly at his side. “Yes, sir?”
“Our soup needs to be heated up,” Nick said quietly. If it had been just his, he wouldn’t have made a scene, but no way was he going to sit there and let Raluca eat cold soup.
Raluca kicked his ankle under the table. But it was too late. The waiter and every guest within earshot was staring at him like he was the world’s biggest idiot. Nick had no idea what he’d done, but it was obviously, incredibly, disastrously wrong.
“This is gazpacho, sir,” the waiter said snootily, putting a sarcastic emphasis on the “sir.” “It is a classic soup of Spanish origin, and is correctly served ice-cold.”
A hot tide of blood rose to Nick’s face, half embarrassment and half anger— the latter as much at himself as at all the fucking rich snobs all around him. He’d not only made himself look like an idiot, he’d blown his cover and maybe even endangered Raluca. He had to fix this, fast. But he couldn’t think of what to say, other than to mumble, “Sorry. Thought it was something else.”
The waiter rolled his eyes and departed.
“Young man, how were you invited to this gala?” the old snob across from him inquired.
Raluca’s voice was cold as the soup. “He came with me.”
The old snob’s snobby old wife tittered, holding a handkerchief to her mouth. Then she put it down and leaned in to speak to Raluca, assuming the intimate yet patronizing tone of an asshole relative. “Katarina, dear, a word of advice from someone who remembers what it was like to be your age. Why, I once dated an accountant! We all sow our wild oats. But we leave them where they belong— in the dirt.”
Raluca’s eyes flashed a dangerous shade of silver. If she didn’t cool down soon, they’d start glowing.
Alarmed, Nick nudged her under the table and muttered, “Your eyes. Uh, your mascara’s smearing.”
To his relief, she understood immediately. Raluca took several deep breaths, visibly calming herself. Her eyes returned to their storm-cloud shade.
Then, staring directly at the snobs, she picked up her glass of red wine and held it high to make sure everyone saw it. There was no mistaking what she was doing, or what she meant by it. Red wine went with the meat course, which had not yet been served. White wine went with soup.
Raluca was standing with Nick, etiquette be damned. Nick’s jaw dropped. His amazement was echoed in the shocked expressions of the snobs.
“He is where he belongs,” Raluca said, her chilly voice pitched to carry all the way across the ballroom. “With me.”
She raised the glass of the wrong wine to her lips and took a huge gulp.
Then she spat it out all over the table.
For a delighted instant, Nick thought she was doing the princess equivalent of spitting in their faces. Then he caught the acrid scent of dragonsbane.
“Fuck!” Nick yelled.
He had no idea how he’d missed the poison — he’d smelled that wine when it had been poured, he knew he had, and it had been fine — but how it had been tampered with didn’t matter now. All that mattered was that Raluca had just put poison in her mouth.
Nick leaped to his feet, knocking over his chair, and grabbed her shoulder. “Don’t swallow!”
Raluca’s ivory face had gone white with fear. She nodded.
“And don’t speak. It’ll send whatever’s left of that stuff straight down your throat.” Nick reached across the table and snatched up the old snob’s untouched red wine glass.
“Hey!” the snob exclaimed.
Nick didn’t give a fuck. It was less likely to be poisoned than any of his own glasses. He sniffed it. Nothing.
“Rinse your mouth out.” Nick pushed it into Raluca’s trembling hand.
She lifted it, then hesitated, looking around the room. Everyone was staring at them, exclaiming and asking questions and starting to stand up. She’d spat once on instinct, but it was obviously much harder for her to do so with everyone watching.
Nick spoke with alpha command. “Ignore those fucking rubberneckers. Swallowing’s an instinct. If you run to the bathroom, some of that stuff will go down your throat before you get there. Rinse your mouth. NOW.”
Raluca’s eyes were wide with shock and fear, like full moons. But she filled her mouth, rinsed the wine around, then spat it out onto her plate.
As shocked exclamations rose up all around them, Nick made sure his voice drowned them out. “Again!”
Raluca rinsed and spat again.
“Okay, hang on. I have —” Nick broke off, then deliberately spoke loud enough for the entire room to hear. “Your medicine, you know, the antidote for that stuff you’re allergic to.”
Nick reached into his pocket. His fingers closed on empty space where the vial of heartsease had been. Someone had picked his pocket. “Fuck!”
“I have more in my purse.” Raluca’s voice was clear and calm, but Nick, with his training and experience and wolf senses, caught the pain she was hiding.
“I’ll get it,” a waiter said. “What’s your name?”
“Katarina Petrescu.”
The waiter bolted for the purse check area, but Nick had a bad feeling about Raluca’s supply. He patted his shoulder holster, then his pants pocket. His gun and wallet were still there. Only the heartsease had been taken.
Nick hadn’t seen Lucas until weeks after he’d recovered from being poisoned with dragonsbane, but the hell he’d gone through had been visible in the shadows under his eyes and the stiffness of his posture. That went away eventually, but Lucas still got a thousand-yard stare every time he even heard the word “dragonsbane,” the same way Shane did with “black ops.” Lucas had underplayed it, of course, but when his mate Journey had said he’d nearly died, she’d only been voicing what everyone could see.
If Raluca hadn’t swallowed any of the dragonsbane, she wasn’t in danger. She’d even be able to shift if she needed to, if she’d rinsed it all off her skin. But the inside of her mouth would burn like fire until she could take the antidote. If she had swallowed some...
A stab of pain went right through Nick’s chest as he scanned the room, guarding Raluca in case the poisoner had an alternate plan. The waiter was already bolting back with her purse, or Nick would’ve already grabbed her and run for it.
Raluca snatched her purse, opened it, and looked in. Her expression of shocked dismay said it all.
“It’s okay,” Nick said, as much to the onlookers as to her. There was no telling how much the assassin knew already, so he planted a mislead. “I’ve got extra meds in the car. Then we’ll drive to the hospital, just to be sure.”
He swept her up into his arms. She was lighter than he’d expected of a woman of her height, an armful of delicate gauze and cold gems and burning, living skin. He could feel her heart pounding against his chest. As he turned to run, he saw her thrust something from her purse into the waiter’s hand, but had no time to see what it was.
Nick bolted out the door, holding her as close as possible to shield her with his body in case of snipers, shouting, “Medical emergency! I need the Dodge Viper!”
Someone had apparently already alerted the valets, because his car pulled up just as he got outside. Nick lifted Raluca into the passenger seat, took a final hasty check for assassins, then dove into the driver’s seat. As he peeled out of there, Raluca again reached i
nto her purse and threw something out the window, to or at the valet.
“What was that?” Nick gasped. He was going pedal to the metal along the narrow road that twisted down the hill, alternating quick glances at Raluca and the rear-view mirror.
“His tip,” Raluca said, as if it was self-evident.
Despite their desperate situation, a startled laugh burst from Nick’s lips. “Now?”
“I doubt we’ll be back,” Raluca explained.
“Were you tipping the waiter, too?” Nick asked.
“Yes, of course. He certainly earned it.”
“Not if he poisoned you,” Nick said grimly.
“Oh, surely not...” Raluca’s eyes narrowed, then began to burn silver. “No, you’re right. It’s possible. Maybe he retrieved my purse just to remove the heartsease.”
“Could be.” Nick swerved the Viper along a roundabout, then on to a busier street. He darted in and out of traffic, making last-minute turns so fast that his tires smoked and screeched. “How’re you doing? Can you tell if you swallowed any of that shit?”
Raluca’s hesitation told him all he needed to know. Nick bit his lip until he tasted blood, forcing himself to concentrate on the road. As far as he could tell, they weren’t being followed. But there might an ambush waiting for them outside Protection, Inc., if Raluca’s enemies had figured out that she’d gone there. It was an easy deduction to make, given that she used to be engaged to Lucas.
“Do you know how much?” Nick asked, once he trusted his voice to stay steady.
“Very little, I think,” Raluca replied. “Perhaps one drop, perhaps less.”
Nick swerved onto the freeway. “How do you know? Tell me exactly what you’re feeling. This isn’t the time to be fucking proud.”
“I know that, Nick!” Raluca snapped. “And I still don’t like that word.”
Her annoyance reassured him more than anything else would have. Nick happened to know from personal experience that if you’re actually dying, you don’t have the energy to sweat the small stuff.
“Sorry,” he said. “It’s just that Lucas would be too proud to say if he was feeling weak or about to pass out. And I need to know.”
“My tongue and the inside of my mouth and my throat burn like they’re on fire,” Raluca said. “But the pain fades as it goes further down, and stops at the top of my sternum. I don’t feel ill or weak. I think the dragonsbane in the wine coated my mouth and throat, and didn’t go any farther. I don’t think I’ve been poisoned, like Lucas was. If it didn’t reach my stomach, it shouldn’t be absorbed by my body.”
As she spoke, Nick veered from lane to lane, then swung on to another freeway. But while his focus was on his job, his heart lifted with relief that Raluca would be all right. She sounded so sure, she convinced him, too. And he couldn’t help being impressed with her precise reporting of injuries that obviously hurt like fuck. They were to her mouth and throat, too. What must it cost her in additional pain and difficulty to articulate so clearly?
“You’re brave,” Nick said, wishing he was more articulate.
“Oh...” Raluca sounded startled. “Thank you.”
“Just calling it like I see it. It hurts to talk, right? So don’t say anything unless you have to.”
She said no more, so he knew he was right. Nick got out his cell phone, called Hal, and gave a quick report. At the end, he said, “Can I get some back-up, in case someone’s waiting for me outside headquarters?”
“Yeah,” Hal said. “It’s already dispatched. You’ll have a greeting committee waiting for you, don’t worry.”
Nick had guessed as much; he’d heard scribbling in the background, and figured that Hal, who never used a computer when a pen would do, was passing notes to someone.
“I’ll be there in ten.” Nick hung up. “Raluca, push your seat back as far as it goes.”
When she did, he said, “Slide down and curl up on the floor. I’m going to drop something on top of you, okay? It’s our bulletproof vests. Don’t bother trying to get into one, just drape them over you.”
He reached around without looking, into the back seat and under the blanket he’d dumped over them for cover, snagged the vests, and laid them on top of her.
“What about you?” Raluca asked.
Nick shrugged. “I can duck.”
“Unacceptable.”
“What?”
Raluca rose from the floor, a vest in her hands.
“Keep your eyes on the road,” she ordered, then undid his seatbelt.
“What?” Nick protested. “Forget about me. Get back down!”
“The more you argue, the longer I will be up here,” Raluca said coolly. “Also, it hurts to speak. Please stop making me.”
“Fuck, you’re stubborn,” Nick muttered. He hastily added, “You don’t need to say you don’t like that word. I KNOW. Just do it fast.”
With no alternative, Nick cooperated as Raluca strapped on his vest, lifting first one arm and then the other from the steering wheel so she could get his arms in while he drove one-handed. His heart thudded against his chest. If someone fired on them now, the bullet would go through her and only bruise him. That was the opposite of how it was supposed to be.
Protect your mate above yourself, his wolf howled.
“Get the fuck on with it,” Nick demanded. “If that vest isn’t on in five more seconds, leave it and get back down.”
Raluca shot him an icy stare. “I go nowhere until the straps are correct.”
To his immense relief, she jerked the last strap into place, then dropped back to the floor and curled up silently with the other vest draped over her, exactly as he’d ordered.
Nick’s nerves sang with adrenaline as he approached the looming tower of Protection, Inc., but there was no ambush. He got into the underground parking lot as easily as if it was a regular day at work.
He parked, opened the door for Raluca, and lifted her out.
Shane materialized from the shadows. Raluca jumped. So did Nick.
Unsmiling, Shane caught Nick’s shoulder to steady him. “I have the antidote.”
Shane opened a vial of heartsease and handed it to Raluca. She snatched and emptied it in a single gulp.
Almost immediately, her taut muscles relaxed against his, and she heaved a sigh of relief. “Oh, that’s better.”
Nick too relaxed. He hadn’t even realized it, but he’d been so tense with the knowledge of her pain that his whole body ached. His jaw hurt like he’d been clenching it nearly hard enough to break his teeth.
“You can put me down now,” Raluca said. “I’m fine.”
Nick didn’t want to let go of her, but she had taken the antidote. And they were safe now. Reluctantly, he set her down on her feet.
She gave Shane a graceful nod. “Thank you for the heartsease. And I am pleased to meet you.”
“Pleased to meet you, too.” Shane’s tone was polite, but his ice-blue gaze swept over her without warmth. He had a way of seeming to see right through people that was unsettling even when he wasn’t using his power. Raluca drew back slightly.
“Lay the fuck off, Shane,” Nick snapped. “She’s had a rough night.”
Shane turned that same chilly stare on Nick. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Well — don’t,” Nick said. But Shane’s cold blue gaze made him feel the idiocy of his words. Nick shut the fuck up.
His head felt like someone was driving a pickaxe into it with every beat of his heart. He hadn’t fought, but he felt like he had. Probably he’d feel better if he had. Now that he was back and Raluca was fine, or at least not poisoned and in pain, all he could think of was that he’d failed to protect her, failed to find out who was after her, failed to figure out how she’d been poisoned, even failed to notice that someone had picked his pocket.
He wasn’t looking forward to making a more detailed report to Hal. But getting deservedly chewed out by his boss was the least of his problems.
I let my mate get hurt
. I didn’t protect her.
“I fucked up,” Nick said to Shane. “I have to... Wait, is anyone else here?”
“Catalina and Ellie and Hal,” Shane said.
Shane’s voice softened as he said Catalina’s name, so subtly that he probably wasn’t even aware of it. She was Shane’s mate, Ellie’s best friend, and would be Nick’s teammate once her training was finished and her probationary period was over.
Nick had liked Catalina right away. Like him, she’d grow up poor and had to fight for everything she’d ever gotten. But his chest hurt again when Shane mentioned her. Even that hard man had found his mate. His love for her rang out like a bell whenever he so much as spoke her name, and glowed like a fire between them when they were together. Ellie and Hal were the same way with each other, as were Journey and Lucas.
Only Nick had managed to piss off his mate until she wanted nothing to do with him. “Fuck-up” didn’t even begin to cover that. Someone would need to invent a whole new word.
Shane went on, “Ellie’s inside, in case Raluca needed medical assistance. Hal and Catalina are outside, so they could ambush the ambush. But they saw you come in safe, so they’ll meet you in the office.”
Nick tried to pull his thoughts together. “Ellie or Catalina or you should check Raluca while I report to Hal. Just in case.” To Raluca, he explained, “They’re paramedics. Shane too. I mean, obviously that’s not his job, but he’s had the training. I’m sure you’re fine, but Hal will order it even if I don’t, so you might as well get it over with. It’ll be quick. And they’re nice. No swearing or glaring, I promise.”
To Nick’s relief, Raluca didn’t object. Instead, she said, “Yes, I agree that I should have a medical examination. Just to be sure.”
Nick ditched his bulletproof vest in the car, remembering again how she’d risen from the floor to strap it over his chest. She’d risked her life for him, and she didn’t even like him. Maybe it was out of shifters’ honor. But Nick could still feel the hot touch of her fingers from the few times she’d brushed against him, skin to skin.
As they headed for the elevators, Nick said to Shane, “Raluca needs a place to stay tonight. We can figure out tomorrow if the hotel is still safe, but I don’t think we should risk it. I think one of the spare rooms here would be best. Maybe Ellie and Catalina could help her get set up for the night? All her stuff is at the hotel.”