His satisfied gaze caressed me. A new kind of heat zeroed in on me, creating sensations I hadn’t experienced…well…since the last doppelgänger who’d held me in his arms.
“Anytime.” He chuckled roughly, averting his flushed face.
Thank lucky thirteen I had a passion for sexy underwear straight from a Victoria’s Secret dresser. My sodden pink lacy bra and matching thong caused Adam no end of appraisal from the glint of wonder in his eyes. He helped me off the bed, steadying my rubbery legs. My lower back throbbed anew. I fingered the skin, feeling raised welts, my eyes bugging out.
“What’s wrong?”
I craned my neck to scrutinize my back. “I’m not sure.”
Adam looked behind me and made a small noise in his throat.
“What?” I scurried into the bathroom. I’ll take my straitjacket in petal pink.
I peered at my backside in the floor-to-ceiling mirror. A raised tattoo scored the center of my lower back. Black and green, inflamed against my winter skin, a vague pattern of vines and thorns emerged.
My heart beat so fast I thought I was going to pass out. I leaned my elbows on the vanity, barely able to suck in more than puffs of air. Did Adam’s tainted power cause this? Ten million ideas tumbled over each other in my head and none of them made a lick of sense. He hovered beside me, commanding me to breathe.
“What the hell?” Ronan’s jealous voice splintered my tenuous foundation.
His aura waltzed over me, airy and pain-free. Adam backed away to give Ronan a view of my back. Straightening, I caught Ronan’s wide-eyed shock in the mirror. He tenderly touched my lower back, never breaking contact with my gaze in the mirror. Adam retreated to the doorway. Ronan’s fingers cooled and soothed the burning welt. Sniveling, I pressed my back against his hand.
“Why me? Who elected me mayor of Freak Town?”
“I wish I knew.”
Turning, I touched his cheek, his skin cold beneath my fingertips. “What happens to you when your aura attacks me?”
“I lose more of what little energy I have left.” He shrugged. “I don’t absorb any more, it doesn’t regenerate.” He moved his hands to my hips and squeezed gently. “Like a piece of my soul is being ripped out when I feel your pain.”
I froze, my mouth dropping open. “Why didn’t you tell me? Do you feel my tattoo…thing?” I slivered my eyes. “What else do you feel?” That could be risky with my emotions battling for world domination inside me.
A slow smile spread his lips, crinkling the skin around his eyes. “You’re feeling better.”
“Tell me.” I pinched his arm playfully, anything to sidetrack the butterflies tangoing in my stomach.
“A beautiful, hot-as-hell woman with far too many clothes on.”
I smirked. “You have the right amount of clothes on.”
“I meant you.” A twinkle lit his eyes.
I glanced at Adam, already knowing his answer to the same question. “Fork over some answers,” I said to Ronan, drawing away, needing to throttle that tangible bond that impelled me to sink into an embrace that included so much more than his hands on me. His darkened eyes had gone as wild as a wind-tossed sea on a moonless night.
Lost in his stormy eyes, it took a long moment to realize I was nearly naked. A flush traveled up from my toes, and I crossed my arms over my torso. My rebel body had totally invalidated my inherent mistrust of near strangers.
Reluctantly, he circled around me to examine my back. “When the pain hits you, it bounces on me then returns to you.” He fingered the welts, skimmed his hand over my right butt cheek. To my consternation, my rear involuntarily tightened.
“Hand me the antibacterial ointment. It’s my turn to play doctor.” He kissed my shoulder, his lips warm and firm.
Adam left and returned with my robe. I forced my mind off Ronan’s unnaturally playful mood. A facet of him I planned to explore in-depth. As much as I enjoyed his flirtations and attempts to lighten the situation, we had no time for it.
Rescuing Zoe was no longer priority one. Many other people were suffering. I couldn’t handle that any longer.
“We have to close the Rift now.” Decision made, I lowered my stricken gaze in the mirror to Ronan’s veiled reflection and Adam’s accepting eyes. We couldn’t risk opening it correctly until we got a handle on everything Forbidden.
“I know.” The only words Ronan needed to say. Adam nodded his agreement.
Chapter 17
After I recovered from my newest short-circuit, we scrambled to pack. Once in the parking lot, the stink of wet asphalt caused more knots to form in my shoulders. Roiling charcoal clouds whispered a warning along my nerves. Just kill me if I ever have to live in Seattle.
I climbed into one of two midnight-blue SUVs from the Freshfields company fleet. Jon planned to chauffer Adam in one, and Jax got stuck carting Ronan and big, bad me in the other. Suck it up, boys. Aria’s here to stay. If Ronan’s aura went postal on me again, we’d deal with it. For the moment, our other options numbered zero.
Ronan and I planned to video link to his father while we randomly cruised the city. Even though we turned off our location settings and scrambled them by staying on the move, we didn’t trust Richard Riley’s ability to bypass the best in high-tech security. The guy was rolling in moola and subhuman gift basket ideas. Since Riley didn’t know about Adam, we didn’t want to risk him getting caught with us, hence the reason we split up. Ronan and I needed an easy way into DR’s compound to obtain the ancient book of clues and to rescue Zoe, Kiera, and Katrina. Riley was going to offer us personal invites to nab his treasures. We just needed to stay one step ahead of him.
According to Ronan, years ago Riley had spent a fortune hiring treasure hunters to locate his portion of the Illuminaria buried in an Ireland crypt. My ancestor had purposely dismantled and hidden the Illuminaria around the world so no one person could lay sticky fingers on the entire text. Someone had previously found and buried the puzzle pieces Riley now possessed. Who’d shot Riley with a lucky shamrock? And did I possess the key to the kingdom of the Forbidden in the missing pages? My point being, the guy would have hell’s minions safeguarding his treasures no matter the cost. Our game plan was eleven doppelgängers short of a sorcerer’s dozen.
A lot depended on what went down at the Rift. If we left the Rift in its current state, Adam and Kiera were going to die soon, and possibly Ronan and Katrina. Maybe even me. Who knew? After the phone call with Dickhead Riley, we were going to the Rift to close it, then onward to rescue Zoe, the girls, and get the book out of Dickie’s sticky fingers. There was no telling how much blood he’d siphoned out of Kiera and Katrina in hopes of creating his alchemic magic. With Ronan’s and Katrina’s blood—if she was indeed a sorcerer—could he open the Rift? We had to beat him to it and hope our magic took his down a notch and stuck.
Jax exited the parking garage, and Ronan pinned me with a wrinkly nervous frown from the right side of the back seat. “You’ll follow my lead?” Half question, half command.
I peered at my haggard reflection in the smoky window separating us from Jax.
“Aria?” Ronan’s voice lowered. “I’ve been around the block a few times with my father.”
“Okay. I get it.” I studied him from my limpet-on-a-door position, unable to trust myself so near him. It was bad enough our auras partied around us. I couldn’t afford the distraction or the torrent of indecision rushing through my body. How’d I blunder from a humdrum life of loser blind dates to two gorgeous hunks in my back pocket? Dumbfounded and lucky hardly defined it. That Wiki to describe my new empire was percolating way too slowly.
“What happens if we don’t close the Rift correctly? Will we all die?” The brand on my back burned.
Unease painted Ronan’s bland mask. “Let’s wait and see.”
My chin dropped. “Oh, nice. Thanks for the vote.”
“I don’t know.” He punched the seat between us.
His cell jangled in the seatback poc
ket. A muscle stood out in a hard ridge in his neck. Snatching up the phone, he clicked on video and speaker. The call routed via Adam’s line, and he remained on a three-way, muted conference. As planned, I kept out of view of the camera. Not that I didn’t want to give Dickie a one-fingered salute.
“Son, it’s a pleasure to speak with you again.” Richard Riley’s snarky sweet baritone was more refined than Ronan’s and slightly nasally as if he suffered from a cold. One could only wish.
Ronan wasted no time. “Release Zoe Marino and I won’t contact the PVD.”
We didn’t have plans to contact the federal Paranormal Vice Division, but the threat was real. We decided not to bargain for Kiera and Katrina, yet. We didn’t want him figuring out how much we knew about the situation. I still hadn’t said a word to Ronan or Adam about what I’d discovered in the missing Illuminaria pages. I needed to keep something in my back pocket in case I was walking into a trap of Ronan and Adam’s making.
Riley chuckled. “We both know you won’t do that. Not until you’ve obtained a few of my treasures.” According to Ronan, his father’s possessiveness was legendary. “Since you’ve squandered no time, I’ll get to my point. I’ll release the telepath when you return with Aria Walker.”
“No deal.” Ronan white-knuckled the phone.
“What happened to you, Ronan?” Riley’s tone hinted at regret. “You used to worship the ground I owned. You believed in my mission. We’ve spent your entire life working toward this goal. Where did I make a wrong turn?”
I smoothed my hand over Ronan’s knee, hoping to instill a calm vibe. Destroying Riley wasn’t vicious enough for what he’d done to a crapload of people.
“Give Zoe up and I’ll let you live.”
My eyes widened. Would he really off his own father?
“Let me see Ms. Walker.” Exasperation clipped Riley’s words. “Her little friend wants an eyeful too.”
Ronan flashed me on screen. I flipped Riley the bird, and Ronan shot me a tired look of frustration.
“Aria!”
I snuck a peek at Zoe’s face filling the small screen. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, framed by long, tangled auburn hair. I latched onto the device to steady Ronan’s hand. “Zoe, you okay?” Relief cooled the volcano dying to erupt inside me.
“A few bruises, but I’m kicking.” She hiccupped, her shoulders heaved. Two of Riley’s apemen removed her thrashing and snarling from the room.
Riley’s mug reappeared. I glowered at him, but Ronan seized the controls.
“What’s it going to be, Ronan?”
“I’ll return to the compound. Aria and Zoe go free.”
“You can do better.” Riley laughed a silver-tongued, arrogant sound geared to charm the unwary. “You’re not talking to the media or law enforcement. And we both know you don’t have the balls to kill me.”
Fury and hatred vibrated Ronan’s taut body. Riley harbored major blind spots about his son. However, he was right about our inability to cry wolf or to wine and dine the media, which was just another death sentence. We had to gain access to DR’s compound to swipe the Illuminaria and every iota of his research, and destroy his alchemic potions and blood. Then Riley bites it big time.
“Release Zoe. I’ll return to the compound. You get three days with Aria, me present at all times.”
“Growing fond of our Ms. Walker, are you?” Green-eyed egotism was rife in Riley’s voice. “I want her for three years. By then, she’ll beg me to let her stay, as will you.”
I jerked against the seatback. “Bastard,” I said under my breath. The only begging I’ll be doing is begging you to take a vacation on the bottom on the ocean, a block of cement your only friend.
“One week,” Ronan countered.
One minute was crazy risky. We’d located the compound’s schematics, including security data and weak spots on Melisande’s computer. DR had corrected the defects after Ronan’s desertion, but Ronan knew of other weaknesses the latest schematics didn’t reveal. We knew a way out. Out alive was another chapter. We just needed a way inside, and if we could do it by cooperating a smidge, so be it. Dicktard would never kill us, not if we pretended to go along with him.
Riley remained silent for light years. “Sorry to disappoint,” he finally said. “I’m growing rather fond of Ms. Marino. She’s an amazing telepath. Now that my darling Melisande has jumped ship—”
I slapped down the mute button. “He doesn’t know the Queen of Darkness is dead?” Disbelief twitched my eyelids.
Ronan shrugged, yanked the phone from me, thumbing the mute off. “Here’s the final deal, Dad.” He sneered at the word. “You get one week with Aria. I stay indefinitely. When Aria’s safely released, you’ll receive a key to a safety deposit box that contains the lost Illuminaria pages.” The prepared lie tripped off his tongue. “We want forty-eight hours before surrendering.”
Riley’s eyes did a praying mantis bug-out. “Now you’re talking my language,” he purred. “I’ll give you twenty-four hours. Be at the gate at one tomorrow.” The display darkened.
Ronan and I swapped nervous, satisfied glances. Ronan had predicted his father would give us twenty-four hours. We only needed a few hours. The phone rang again. Adam.
“I’ll meet you at the Rift at seven thirty,” he rambled off.
“I thought we were going together?” That had been our plan—before we’d sold our magic and bodies to Satan’s pride and joy.
“We still shouldn’t be seen together.” Ronan jabbed the SUV’s intercom and instructed Jax to drive to our new hotel.
We hadn’t tapped all of Melisande’s data, and we hoped it contained info even Riley didn’t know she’d pirated. Adam would keep Melisande’s gadgets and documents safe and be our failsafe on the outside if something went ass-end wrong at DR. That was, if we managed to close the Rift and he lived long enough.
Ronan curled his fingers through mine. Our magic link pacified my frazzled nerves and erected a thin barrier against Adam’s nasty lingering taint from my recent magic flogging in the hotel. Ronan’s aura amazingly soothed the incessant burn of my new eerie tattoo.
The privacy window rolled down. “We have a tail,” Jax said.
Our fleeting harmony shattered. Ronan and I fixed our sights out the rear window. A late model silver sedan followed at a discreet distance. Two cavemen silhouettes filled the front seats, two hulked in the rear.
Pinkies twitched. The clock struck one thirteen. Too late to thwart my bad luck. Love. Lee. Could I give myself a crash course in ninja?
“Head away from the hotel.” Ronan yanked his gun from his shoulder harness.
Likewise, I tugged out my stun gun, primed it for distance on high. “Who is it?” I settled backward in my seat for an easier view out the rear.
A torrential rain began pounding the roof, drowning the sound of my heart’s erratic rhythm in my ears. The rear wipers arced across the glass, unable to defeat the mini-monsoon.
Jax drove into a bleak commercial area peppered with manufacturing buildings. Occasional splashes of color decorated the stark facades. The SUV’s engine chugged, rattled, bit the dust. I caught Jax’s anxious expression in the rearview mirror. You have got to be kidding me.
Ronan locked his sight on the sedan. “What’s wrong?”
Jax rolled the vehicle to the curb, stomping on the breaks as the tires bounced off the cement. “Gas gauge reads empty, but we had a full tank.”
Ronan landed a glower on me. A bead of sweat dripped between my breasts. Son of an unlucky thirteen bitch.
Jax fiddled with the diagnostic computer. The silver car halted in front of the glass-fronted building a couple hundred feet behind us. Rain slashed the windows, making it hard to see through the murk.
Lightning sizzled across the sky in a blaze of white. A clap of thunder caused me to jerk against the door. Then I noticed Ronan’s aura had disappeared. Our compelling, confusing meld of tingly power became a frozen black boulder within me. As if my arter
ies bled out, my energy slipped out and my aura dissolved. In less than a minute, I became a lifeless hollow, despite my blood, muscles, and flesh calling for the lilting melody to return.
Arctic floodgates swung open and panic crashed into me. “Ronan?” I clenched my weapon so hard the outer shell creaked.
He turned to me, his eyes flinty, calculating. One sweep took in my alarm. “We’re in a dead zone.” Concentration deepened his frown. He attempted to raise his paltry magic to no avail.
I loathed the soul-eating loss in my core. I zipped my jacket to my chin, insanely hoping the insignificant effort contained my last trickle of energy.
Ronan kept his sight peeled on the car. “More of my father’s goons.”
Jax slammed his fist against the computer monitor. “Piece of shit.”
The silver menace behind us appeared no less threatening through the rain-slick window. What were they waiting for?
Ronan touched my arm. “Keep watch. I’m going to help Jax.”
I nodded and pitched a rash of positive mental energy at the computer. It drizzled into a pin drop of emptiness.
Another boom of thunder without the precipitating crack of lightning rattled my bones. A glint of light inside the sedan caught my attention. “They’re getting out.” Something tight wound up in my stomach.
Four tall men in dark raincoats exited the car. One had a glistening bald head, and the others sported short, dark hair the rain instantly plastered to their skulls.
“We’re not waiting,” Ronan barked. “Jax, cover us. You’re not an ESP and they won’t hurt you.” The back window latch popped open. “Out your side, Aria.”
“I’m not worried. I’ve got an arsenal.” Jax laughed maniacally. He crammed his beefy body past me and rolled into the cargo area. “Ready,” he growled, one hand on the window to push it open, the other clutched around a handgun.
A hateful, familiar paralysis claimed me. Everything blurred and that flood of panic became a tsunami. I forced my fingers to maintain my grip on my stun gun. Ronan shouted at me, but I couldn’t understand his words. All I saw was the rain sheeting the windows, smothering the world outside. Muscles throbbed in my temples, and I fought against the memories flashing in lightning strikes through my mind. Refusing to let the haunting episodes hit me, I pulled inane thoughts out of other pockets in my mind. Cody and Cleo, bring chocolate to Mommy.
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