“Lucille,” he finally spoke to me. “I was wondering how long it would take for your anger to emerge. I felt it even before you entered the room, so right on schedule, huh?”
Momentarily distracted by the thumb stroking his bottom lip, I grasped his comment and silently vowed he would be feeling a lot more than my anger by the time I was done with him. What was it about this man that brought out the girly need to bite, claw and shove a knee in his groin?
Practicing the civility I have been honing since my arrival here, I leveled my gaze on him before speaking. “If you don’t want your office looking like a baby gorilla’s playpen, I suggest you meet me in the sparring room.”
There went a month’s worth of feigned maturity, down the drain in under a second.
His smirk broke into a full-blown grin, which was a breath-stealing gut check, but I kept my reaction subdued and put on the fiercest face I could summon in spite of my thrashing heart.
“Baby gorilla’s playpen?” he repeated, shaking his head at my absurd, ill-planned analogy.
The need to defend myself rose up inside but I squashed it, knowing it would only further prove how much he flustered me. I simply imagined all the ways I wanted to wipe the smile off that gorgeously smug face of his.
“Now!” I barked before whipping around so fast my ponytail smacked me in the face.
His light chuckle faded behind me as I headed for the largest training room. I felt his presence close behind me without checking to see if he was following. I briefly wondered why I hadn’t sensed him as soon as he arrived. Then again, I have been fairly scatterbrained these past couple days.
We passed a few gawkers in the hall, who came running from the cafeteria to witness the impending showdown. Or my meltdown. Either way, they came for a spectacle. However, when Gavin passed them, he barked out an order for them to get lost. Keepers scattered left and right to avoid the punishments of disobeying.
Cowards. He wasn’t that scary.
As soon as he stepped through the doorway to the sparring room, I released a month’s worth of pent up frustration. It all resurfaced at once. It was the first time since coming here I didn’t have to worry about hurting anyone or consider the consequences of my anger.
Grabbing fistfuls of his lapels, I wound up and swung. The crash reverberated through the enormous space and shook weapons free from their places on the wall, sending them clattering to the floor. The shock on his face must have been mirrored on my own as we stood stock-still staring at each other. Apparently, my strength had no limits when it came to him.
He composed himself quickly and appeared ready for the inevitable conversation about his abrupt departure and even more surprising return. The corners of his mouth began to twitch, but pummeling him appealed more to me than confronting him about the past several weeks. I charged.
He dodged my initial attack, but my increased speed and training allowed me to spot his obvious defensive maneuver and adjust my direction. While he anticipated my typical frontal attack, he moved to block another jab as I crouched and twisted my way around him. The swiftness of my second attack rendered Gavin’s defenses useless.
Thank you, Wade.
I shoved him against the wall and sprung. Snaking an arm in front of him, I wrapped it around his neck and squeezed before using the wall as a springboard. I ran up and kicked off of it. In true WWE fashion, I flipped, using gravity and my death grip on Gavin to bring his large body down with me.
He crashed to the floor next to me, but I was on top of him before he could right himself. The frustration plateaued as piles of tension tumbled out of me in a series of rapid-fire blows. His face replaced the vault. It didn’t break or give under the pressure of the assault, but by the time he worked his hands between us to intercept the punches, blood smattered his crisp white button-down. It dripped from rapidly healing gashes above his eye and at the corner of his mouth. It stained my knuckles, which were now pinned behind my back.
He rolled on top of me to keep them in place. Our heavy breathing interrupted the silence, although the exertion didn’t warrant it. Something powerful was building between us, and I hated the vulnerability currently rooting itself inside me.
He recognized the mood change and quickly rolled aside, pulling me upright. “You hit the panic button.” It wasn’t a question but a prompt to explain myself.
When I lunged at him again, unwilling to face the reunion yet, he easily dodged it. “What happened out there?”
I landed a punch before he spun me, shoving me away while carefully maintaining the bare minimum of physical contact.
“What had you running scared?” he tried again, a hint of concern crept into his voice.
“It was nothing,” I answered vaguely. “Just a mistake.”
His eyes bore into mine, but he chose to ignore the lie. I couldn’t bring myself to answer that question honestly yet. I knew the truth of it would terrify me more than any assassin army. He cursed when he detected it in my eyes and turned to wipe both hands down his chiseled features.
“I’m sorry, Lucille,” he said, turning back to face me. “It seems our friend, Shane, has made another friend of his own. I got word that the assassin who nearly killed you in St. Louis picked up your trail.”
“So he’s here?” I screeched, unable to hide the panic.
“I can only assume he had help from Monroe and whomever he’s working with, but I still don’t know how they could have found you,” he droned, more to himself. To me, he said, “I don’t know if he’s here or not, but I won’t let him get to you.”
The hollow promise did little to abate the growing fear. I couldn’t trust him to stick around when things got ugly.
“I know things haven’t been easy for you, but how are you doing?” he asked.
It almost sounded like he cared. Distracting me from the bigger issues and thoroughly squashing the fear, anger flared, bright and hot. I threw a backhanded punch, and when it connected, I stunned him with a left hook. He blocked my elbow before it met his chin and circled around me, putting several feet between us.
I met his steady gaze, my eyes blazing with unleashed fury. “Oh, so now you want to ask about me? Now, you want to know things? After weeks of silence!” I shouted.
Lunging at him, I tossed a weak, diverting jab before ramming my knee into his gut. He skirted around a weapons rack to put a barrier between us. He seemed more determined than ever to keep his distance from me.
“Okay, let’s talk about it. Let’s talk about my grieving period and my lack of confidence,” I spat, reminding him of his openness to discuss my emotional health with Helen. “Or maybe, we should talk about how you want me to go back out there so I can get my ass handed to me by the assassin that’s currently hunting me.”
“I told you I wouldn’t let him get to you,” he said firmly.
“Because you’ve been so reliable lately,” I seethed, my newfound patience fluttering away like Dandelion seeds on a summer breeze.
“Lucy,” he sighed. “I’ve always had your best interests in mind. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, but everything I’ve done has been for your protection.”
The way he said it grated against my nerves. He sounded like a mercenary, his motivations for helping me severed from any deeper ties I once thought were there. I knew he promised my mother he would protect me, but like an idiot I thought there might have been more to it than that. It was becoming glaringly obvious that his intentions carried no personal foundations.
“And there is one thing I didn’t mention to Helen. Probably the most important reason for your struggle and frustration.”
“Oh, do tell. Since you’re an expert and authority on all things me-related.”
He fought a grin before his expression turned grave. “You’re scared of yourself. You spent all that time hating yourself for what you might become, but now that you’ve become your worst nightmare, you’re terrified of what you’re capable of. I know you fear unleashing what’s inside of you
. I know how scared you must have been when you nearly drained that man in the street. The fear of being what you are haunts you. It holds you back and is the root of your confidence issues. Before you turned, your anger and guilt overshadowed your fear of consequences. Now that you’ve seen some of those consequences, you fear your power. You went from embracing it to dreading it.”
“I get it, okay. Maybe I don’t want to embrace it if it means people get killed.”
“Eventually, you will trust your instincts, and you won’t worry about killing anyone because you won’t let yourself.”
Ire was always a shield against intimacy, used to keep people at arm’s length and hide underlying issues. I considered myself a closed book with impenetrable bindings, but, again, he used x-ray vision to see right through them, dissecting each sentence of my life story. I loathed this man as much as I loved him.
Hastily drawing a weapon from the rack separating us, I swung with everything I had. He was just as quick, though, and deflected my attack with ease. Splintered wood chips showered us.
Confused, I glanced down and could have kicked myself. In my rush, I had grabbed a wooden practice sword. The metal of his very real sword shimmered as he turned it on me. Its cold tip bit into the sensitive flesh at my throat.
The menacing smirk he wore darkened his features, signaling the end of his tolerance. “How’s your meditation training going, Lucille?” he asked in a low, dangerous tone.
What? Meditation?
Oh, yeah. That. “It’s fine.”
“Mmmhmm,” he grunted, knowingly.
He edged around the rack, keeping the sword level with my throat so I had no escape. Once he stood in front of me, he cautiously lowered it, never taking his eyes off mine. He edged closer to tower over me. I craned my neck to look him in the eye.
“Helen assured me it was fine, too, but she never could understand how much power the mind has over us. Work on governing your thoughts before anything else. The physical will come later.”
There he went, getting all bossy again. “Is that what you say to all the girls?” my inner smartass said, coming out to play.
The frozen depths of those blue eyes told me he wasn’t in the mood for my bullshit. “You should go get some rest. You’ve had an eventful night and need to stay prepared for anything. Plus, you need to chill out.”
“You’ve been here ten minutes and you’re already telling me what to do. What are you going to do if I don’t chill out, huh?”
He inched closer, invading my space and forcing me back a step. His eyes gleamed with wicked intent, and his careful, no physical contact notion slipped away. “Don’t push me, Lucille. Because you won’t like what happens.”
Most people would wet themselves under that frosty glare and ruthless tone. This man did intimidation like nobody’s business. I, however, responded a little differently to his threats.
Laughing in his face forced his eyes to narrow and his features to tighten. I wanted nothing more than to get under his skin the way he did to me. And I knew exactly how to accomplish that feat.
“Hate to break it to you, but when it comes to me, your threats fall a little short. Remember when most of those threats were meant to make me blush and shut me up? You can’t even use those against me anymore. I couldn’t handle them before, because, well, things were different then.” I tossed the bait and bit back a smile when I saw him take it.
The wolfish smile transformed his features into something a lot less menacing but no less dangerous. Shit. In my effort to affect him, I forgot how much he could affect me. Yeah, I had no regard for consequences when he was around.
He leaned down, and that masculine scent that was all him invaded my brain like a good alcohol buzz. It wasn’t chemical like Nick’s cologne but a natural mixture of spices, woods, and clean scents. Our noses nearly touched.
“And you can handle them, now?” he whispered, his breath warm against my lips.
I was reminded of a similar conversation on the dance floor of Shane’s nightclub when we danced, and I told him I was probably the only woman who could handle him. Still true.
I didn’t back down. Despite what I once felt for him, the idea of anything happening between us didn’t frighten me the way it used to. He lowered his voice more.
“I can still make you blush,” he warned.
“Doubtful.”
His arms caged me in as they landed on the wall right behind me. When did that get there? His cheek brushed against mine and his breath tickled the soft skin behind my ear when he leaned in to whisper words that could never, ever be repeated again.
The naughty promises of all the things he could do to my body stunned me into submission, and I could only stare at the wall of weapons beyond him as my cheeks flamed and I fought to gain control of my ragged breathing.
When he leaned back a hair, he laughed at my expression. My virginal mind rebelled against the information overload. He was obviously no prude and quite experienced, which only made my lack of experience that much more evident.
“So would you rather go somewhere and cool off or test me some more? Still think you can handle the consequences?” he teased.
I didn’t trust my voice, so I shook my head woodenly. He pulled back to occupy my line of sight. When our eyes locked, my heart rattled my ribcage like an earthquake, and I involuntarily licked my lips.
His hooded gazed followed the movement, and he sucked in a sharp breath. Whether he cared for me or not, his physical response was undeniable. At the very least, this hot-blooded male standing before me was attracted to me.
So wrapped up in each other, we barely managed to break apart when voices approached the doorway.
“Dude, I’m totally going to kick your ass this time,” Nick said.
Brody responded, “Please. You can’t even touch my level of badassness.”
“Oh, hey, Lucy,” Nick called when he noticed us.
The guys approached watchfully, obviously sensing some of the tension radiating off us. I watched them take in our rumpled appearances and smeared blood while trying hard to act like everything was cool.
Nick scowled at Gavin as Brody extended a hand. “Hey, man. It’s Gavin, right?”
“Right,” he responded cordially before shaking his hand.
“I’m Brody. I don’t know if you remember. It’s been awhile.”
Gavin smiled reluctantly, unable to shake off some of the lingering stiffness. “I remember,” he said before glancing in Nick’s direction.
Nick’s eyes bounced suspiciously between the two of us before he reluctantly offered his hand. “Nick,” he supplied sharply.
Gavin grasped it firmly and responded with a curt nod and cold smile. The air grew thicker the longer their hands and eyes stayed locked in whatever intractable mental battle was taking place between the two of them.
Brody and I shared a look, confused by what might have spurred this little pissing contest. Nick broke free first, turning to me. His gaze roamed over me appreciatively, and I grew uncomfortable under the blatant scrutiny.
“So, Lucy, since you’re here, do you want to stay and watch me kick this guy’s ass?” he asked, hooking a thumb in Brody’s direction. “And when I’m done with him, I can show you some of my favorite moves.” He winked and I rolled my eyes.
Gavin looked him up and down, and by the smirk on his face, I knew he found him lacking. Still, he had gone rigid beside me. Creases formed around his eyes when they narrowed slightly.
I stretched my senses in an attempt to ferret out his emotions, but he gave nothing away. He was still in control of himself. Unsure of what I was even searching for, I relented.
“I’ll watch you guys while I work on my swordplay,” I said.
I heard a low growl emanate from Gavin, but he turned to the door and left without another word.
The two boys watched him go before turning back to me. “Yeah, maybe you could work on not destroying the sword before you learn how to use it,” Brody said
, toeing the splintered remains of my practice sword at his feet.
“Jesus, Lucy, what the hell happened in here?” Nick asked as he moved toward the wall with the Gavin sized dent in it to inspect the damage.
Knowing Gavin was still in earshot, I responded, “That is what happens when someone pisses me off.”
They both turned their wide eyes on me when Nick’s expression grew furious. “Did he do something to you, Lucy? I’ll kill him if he hurts you.”
I could have sworn I heard a derisive snort come from somewhere upstairs.
“Dude, from the looks of things, he’s hurting a lot more than our girl, here,” Brody chimed in before flashing me an appreciative smile.
“True. Damn, Lucy. He’s lucky he can still walk after this kind of impact.” Nick still stood by the wall, rifling through the wreckage. He began picking up fallen tools and straightening things.
Confused by his statement, I turned toward Brody for explanation. He leaned closer conspiratorially. “Not everyone here knows about the guy’s… vampire status,” he whispered, tilting his head in Nick’s direction. “Not many of us were around the last time he stopped by, but my question is, how did you two meet?”
“Oh, you know, small world. We both happen to be the only supernatural beings on the same team.”
“Really?” he asked dubiously. He slung an arm over my shoulders and his voice dropped. “Because from the looks of you two when we walked in, you seemed to know each other on a much more personal scale than just being members of the same team. If you know what I mean,” he added cheekily.
Wondering if Gavin was still listening in, I decided against divulging too much by playing dumb. “I don’t know what you mean.”
He raised a skeptical brow. “Please, girlfriend. I saw the way you two were eye banging each other. Why do you think Lover Boy over there got his panties in a twist?”
“I don’t know what you think you saw, but there’s nothing there. There was no ‘undressing each other with our eyes’ going on.”
“Eye banging,” he corrected. “And there was a whole lot of it. And a whole lot of murderous looks coming from your direction. You either looked like you wanted to grind all up on him and climb him like a pole or rip his heart out with your bare hands.”
Blinding Light (The Bloodmarked Trilogy Book 2) Page 18