by Lara Adrian
“Stop this,” she cried. “Cain, please, stop!”
He swung his head in her direction, eyes ablaze. “Marina, stay back—”
The moment his attention left Knox, the male drove his fist into the side of Cain’s face. Bone fractured with a hideous crack. Blood spurted from beneath his left eye.
“Cain!”
She started to run toward him, but his bellowed command stilled her. “Marina, goddamn it. Get the fuck out of here!”
She halted, but her feet refused to obey him. The fight raged on, a terrible impasse of power and fury, neither male willing to give an ounce of quarter. Marina stood there, terrified to stay and witness Cain and his brother trying to kill each other, yet more terrified to leave.
Knox’s roar sounded anguished, despite that Cain had yet to land a single blow. The fight was evenly matched, but either one of them could have ended it soon after it started. Neither one seemed willing to deliver that final strike. Yet there was no mercy in their blazing eyes, nor in the thunderous clash of their bodies as their confrontation escalated and they repeatedly slammed each other from one side of the corridor to the other.
At that same moment, Bram rounded the corner of the passageway several yards behind Marina. “Holy hell. Look at you two fucking idiots.”
His commanding voice boomed over the violence as he stalked past her and toward Cain and Knox. Lana trailed behind him, her face stricken with worry. She moved slower than her mate, keeping a safe distance from the fray, but also moving gingerly with one hand resting on the large swell of her belly.
Bram glanced back at her. “Baby, take Marina and let me handle this.”
Without waiting for her answer, he grabbed Knox by the shoulders and peeled him off Cain. Knox spun around, face twisted with rage. His swing flew wild, connecting with Bram’s jaw.
“Enough!” Lana screamed from beside Marina as the altercation showed little sign of ending. “Stop this, all of you. I won’t have you fighting in my home!”
She was worked up, breathing too fast. She clutched her rounded abdomen as her knees wobbled. Marina caught her before her legs gave way beneath her.
Lana’s distress finally got the attention of all three men. Silence fell over everyone.
When nothing else seemed capable of defusing the situation, the collective concern for Bram’s mate erased everything else. Bram was at her side in the next instant. Murmuring quiet, urgent words of comfort, he scooped her up into his arms.
“I’m okay,” she said, resting her head against his broad chest. “I just got worked up, and the baby didn’t like it.”
Bram’s face was grim with concern. “I don’t like it either. I’m taking you to bed.”
He shot a pointed look at Cain and Knox, who both stood in the center of the passageway breathing heavily, concrete dust on their hair and faces, clothing torn. Cain’s cheek was hollowed where his brother’s fist had shattered the bone, blood running down his face.
“We done here?” Bram demanded.
Knox said nothing as he turned and stalked in the opposite direction of the corridor. After a moment, Bram and Lana went the other way, leaving Marina alone with Cain. She couldn’t resist the urge to go to him. He stared at her, his gaze burning bright as coals. His lungs soughed, air rasping past the long points of his fangs.
She reached out to him. “Are you okay?”
He caught her wrist before she had the chance to touch him. His grip was firm and warm, then it was gone.
He stepped past her, walking away without a word.
CHAPTER 12
After burning off some of his leftover aggression with one of the punching bags in the training room, Cain returned to his quarters feeling less like the powder keg he’d been with Knox, but still on edge and unfit for public. The left side of his face was still as sore as hell, but the hour-plus workout and the long shower—a deliberately cold one—afterward had helped.
Still, he wasn’t pleased to enter the open door of his room and find Marina seated on the brown leather sofa inside. She glanced from his damp hair and bare chest covered in glyphs to the black track shorts which, thankfully, were loose enough to conceal his body’s increasing and uncomfortable response to the sight of her. He stepped into the room, scowling at her as she stood up to greet him.
“I asked Lana where to find you.”
She wore a sleeveless plum silk dress that skimmed her curves and ended just above her knees. Even in her black ballet flats, she was statuesque, elegant. Her look was tasteful and refined, yet Cain’s cock reacted as though she were standing in front of him as naked as she’d been in her bikini a few hours ago. He glanced away from her without a reply.
“So, these are your quarters? The room you lived in . . . before?”
To maintain his willful avoidance of her, he let his gaze roam over the large living suite. The king-size bed, the comfortable lounge area, the desk and book cases. Not a thing out of place from when he last saw it eight years ago.
He blew out a sharp sigh. “I can’t believe they never emptied this room. Hell, I can’t believe no one burned all my shit after I left. Everything’s been kept exactly how I left it. Who does that?”
“Someone who cares about you. Someone who hopes you’ll come back one day.”
He shot her a flat look and scoffed. “Yeah, I’m sure Lana and Bram are real happy I’m back now. How was she doing when you saw her?”
“She’s fine, resting.” Marina moved away from the sofa, edging closer to him. “She says the baby has been temperamental for about a week now. Lana’s due next month.”
Cain grunted. He didn’t want to talk about family or things he was going to miss after his business with Marina was finished and he was free to move on again. “Why did you come looking for me?”
She frowned. “I wanted to see if you were all right after what happened with Knox.”
“As you can see, I’m more than all right.”
His clipped tone didn’t seem to dissuade her. She approached him anyway, her wine-colored gaze tender as it traveled every inch of his face. His shattered cheekbone was already mended, thanks to his accelerated Breed healing capability. The deep cut Knox’s fist had opened beneath his eye was closed, leaving only a bruise that would be gone in a matter of hours.
Marina reached up before he realized what she was doing. Her fingertips lit gingerly on the side of his face. “It’s remarkable.”
“It’s genetics.” He pulled away from her touch, refusing to let himself indulge in her comfort, or her concern. He still wanted her too much. Accepting even the smallest kindness would be a recipe for disaster. “The only medical care I ever need is fresh red cells taken from an open vein. And fortunately, I paid a blood Host for the use of her vein in Miami two nights ago.”
“Paid her? Do you mean a prostitute?”
He shrugged. “More or less. I don’t always fuck them, though.”
She flinched, a subtle flicker of disapproval flattening the supple line of her mouth. Cain had said it with cold frankness because she needed to be reminded of what he was: Breed. Blood-drinker. The base monster her uncle warned her about.
The one she ran from in terror after he kissed her at the pool.
He wanted to repulse her, make her leave. But Marina only studied him closer. Her scrutiny made him twitchy, anxious with the need to put space between them. Preferably a lot of space, separated by a locked door.
She was undeterred, however. “To hear Lana talk about Bram, I imagined there was a sacredness to that part of their relationship. She talks about her blood bond with him as though it’s something holy and precious.”
Cain smirked, knowingly cold. “I’m not talking about a blood bond between a Breedmate and her male. Bram and Lana are linked for life. As soon as they took each other’s blood, that shackle became unbreakable.”
“You make it sound like a curse.”
“I wore a collar for the first sixteen years of my life. I’ve got no interest
in another one. I prefer to take what I need from human Hosts.”
He could see the disapproval in her eyes. “People you pay to service you?”
“That’s right. One and done. No exceptions,” he clarified. “I prefer to keep things clean and uncomplicated.”
“You mean impersonal.”
He shrugged. “Even better.”
“Because you’re punishing yourself, or because you’re still in love with the memory of a woman you would never have?”
“What the hell difference does it make?”
She folded her arms in front of her. “You’re right, it doesn’t. Either way, you’re a coward.”
Anger spiked inside him, and not because she was wrong. “Maybe you didn’t hear me when I told you that you needed to steer clear of me.”
“I heard you,” she shot back, color rising into her cheeks as her stubborn chin inched upward.
“Yet here you are. Why?”
“Because you don’t scare me, Cain.”
“Is that right?” He barked out a harsh laugh. “Seemed to me you couldn’t run away fast enough after I kissed you tonight.”
“Not because I was afraid of you.” She frowned and shook her head, but those intoxicating eyes stayed rooted on him, penetrating all of his defenses. Her voice dropped, no longer indignant but softening with an honesty that rocked him. “I was afraid of myself, of how you made me feel. I ran from you because I knew if I let you keep kissing me, I wouldn’t want you to stop.”
Ah, Christ. It wasn’t the answer he was expecting. Nor was it the one he wanted to hear right now. The temptation to drag her back into his arms and pick up where they left off nearly overwhelmed him. It shook him, how fiercely he wanted it.
Wanted her.
“You made the right decision,” he muttered, his throat acrid, as dry as cinders. “I never should have let it happen. It’s a mistake I won’t make again.”
He turned away, started to walk toward his closet to fetch a T-shirt. He waited to hear her footsteps retreat behind him. But she wasn’t moving.
“That’s it? That’s all you have to say to me?”
He swung a cold glance at her. “Am I being unclear?”
“No. You’re being a bastard. But I see through you, Cain. You’re the one who’s afraid. Afraid of feeling anything for someone.”
“I can feel or I can keep you alive. Your choice, Marina. I can’t do both.”
Confusion knit her brow and she plunged both hands into the pockets of her dress. “I don’t understand.”
“My visions,” he said, frustrated as he faced her again. “They’re only clear as long as I have no emotional connection to the person in them.”
“Tell me about Abbie.” It was so like Marina to cut to the heart of the matter. Her frank gaze remained steady on him. “Why do you think you were responsible for what happened to her?”
“Because it’s the truth.” He considered dropping the gate down on the entire subject, but maybe she should know. Maybe then she’d be the smarter of them both and want nothing more to do with him. He blew out a short sigh. “I used to be able to tap into my ability at will. When Abbie started coming around the Darkhaven to visit Lana, she heard about my gift and kept pressing me to tell her if I could see anything about her. I resisted at first. Every Breed male has his demons to contend with, and this was mine.”
“She couldn’t respect that about you and let it go?”
He shrugged. “Abbie was a free spirit, and she was persistent. One night she was here with Lana and she’d too much to drink. She asked me again, then started making silly guesses about one ridiculous death scenario after another. Finally, I gave in. I tried to call up my ability, but nothing happened. By then, I was already infatuated with her, so I knew why I couldn’t make it work.”
“What did you say?”
“I made some lame joke, then left her and Lana to have their fun. The vision hit me as soon as I left the room. It was disjointed, playing through my head in disconnected flashes. Not the sixty-second premonition I might see for a stranger, but murky images in random, rapid fire. I saw the explosion on the highway. I saw twisted, smoking metal. And I saw Abbie’s body crushed and broken in the wreckage.”
“Oh, my God.” Marina closed her eyes on an indrawn breath.
“I couldn’t tell her that,” he murmured, his horror still as fresh as it was then. So was his regret. “It wasn’t clear enough to do anything about it. It’s not like I could tell her never to get behind the wheel of a vehicle. I thought it would only scare her to know.”
“What did you do?”
“Her death was all I could think about—even after she and Knox became involved. They were in love, and everyone knew he was planning to ask for her blood bond as his mate. I respected that. But I watched over her in secret. Kept an eye on her apartment in Homestead, followed her home from where she worked at the hospital. Finally, one night Knox caught on to me after I came back to the Darkhaven. We fought. He accused me of stalking her, of having some sick obsession for her. In a way, he was right.”
“But you didn’t tell him what you saw?”
“I should have, then and there. Maybe it would’ve made a difference. But while Knox and I fought, I saw another glimpse. I hadn’t seen one for weeks, no matter how I tried to call up more details. Suddenly, there I was, on scene at the accident, holding Abbie in the middle of the wreckage. She was already gone.” He shook his head. “How do you tell a man the woman he plans to take for his mate will end up dead in his brother’s arms?”
Marina got very quiet, holding him in a dread-filled stare. “How did that happen?”
“Knox left in a rage. Not long afterward, Lana came looking for him. Abbie had called her on the way home from work. A storm had rushed in. Blinding rain and wind. Abbie’s car was stalled on the side of the highway.”
Marina’s blanched face said she knew where the story was heading. Cain cleared his throat and pushed on.
“I told Lana to try to reach Knox. Then I took off, knowing I could be there in a few minutes. I just wanted to get Abbie off the road and somewhere safe. I got there too late. I saw the flames and black smoke, and I knew. I got out of my car and ran to the crash on foot, praying like hell the vision was wrong.”
He saw the whole night replay in his mind’s eye now. The unbearable heat of fire and melted steel. The acid stench of burning tires . . . and flesh.
“I pulled her out of it, realizing there was no saving her. Nothing could have saved her, not even Breed blood. I heard a keening, animal roar as I held her. Knox was there. I’d never seen such pain in anyone before. I told him about the visions, that I tried to reach her before it was too late. He took her out of my arms without saying a word. I don’t think he was capable of speaking in that moment, not even to voice his hatred of me, or his grief for losing Abbie. He walked away carrying her body and disappeared into the storm.”
Marina’s silence was almost too much to endure. So was the tender expression of caring on her lovely face. “Cain . . . I’m so very sorry. For all of you.”
Her tenderness made him feel trapped, caged in with a flood of emotions he didn’t want to feel. Least of all the soft regard he couldn’t seem to control when it came to Marina.
He forced a dismissive shrug. “Hey, life sucks. And that’s the fucked-up irony of my so-called gift. The only ones I can’t help are the people who matter to me. I can see the last seconds of someone’s life—and sometimes have a chance to change it—but everything is disconnected and hard to make sense of, when it comes to someone who means something to me.”
She scoffed quietly. “Lucky for me, the most you seem capable of feeling toward me is disdain.”
He should have let the comment go. Instead, he swore under his breath. “Is that what you think?”
“What the hell difference does it make?” She threw his words back at him, a pained smile tightening her face.
He felt like the biggest asshole as she
pivoted and started to leave. Before he could stop himself, he stalked after her and caught hold of her hand. He gently drew her back toward him, feeling how close she was to breaking. He’d finally driven her to the brink of that, and it shamed him.
“Marina, fuck. I’m sorry.” She didn’t speak, wouldn’t turn to look at him now. The hand he held on to was balled into a fist. He moved around in front of her. “You couldn’t be more wrong about how I feel toward you.”
He uncurled her fingers, intending to lace his through them. But as he unfolded her fist, he realized she was holding something in her palm. A small black device, the kind used for storing data files.
“What’s this?”
“My uncle’s freedom. This is what it costs.” She let out a resigned sigh. “Not the two million dollars in the briefcase. That was only a decoy to distract from the real item I need to deliver.”
Although he wasn’t surprised to hear her finally admit she’d been lying to him, he was far from pleased to see the data drive in her hand. Nothing good could come from whatever she was about to tell him next. “What’s on this, Marina?”
“Boris Karamenko’s entire financial portfolio. Bank accounts. Passwords. Everything.”
“Holy shit.” He could hardly contain his astonishment. Or his dread. Two million in cash was chump change compared to the value of data like that. “Who else knows about the disk?”
“No one.” She frowned and shook her head. “At least, that’s what Uncle Anatoly and I thought. But Yury seemed to know I was carrying information. When he held the gun on me, he demanded I give him the files.”
Cain’s blood seethed at the reminder of her bodyguard’s attack. “Could Yury have been Karamenko’s man? A plant with hidden loyalties to the big boss?”
“I don’t know. I wouldn’t have thought so. He served my uncle for close to a decade. He was practically family to us.” The sting of that deception was still ripe in her voice. “He told me he was never going to allow me to go through with the meeting. He knew about the sniper. He said since the shooter failed, he was going to finish the job.”