“I’m staying here.” Mari grasped a nearby headboard. “I’m taking care of Christian. He needs me.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Angelica strode across the room, nearly giggling as everyone scrambled out of her way. Let them worry. Yes, they were going to have to learn that going mutiny and making their own decisions didn’t benefit them. But right now, there was an orgasm overlord hot on her tail and she didn’t have time to deal with bad little children.
Her smile faded as she reached the bed and peered down at Christian. His eyes were closed, hollowed into his face like someone had sunk a hole-in-one into his eye socket. His face was the color of old cement, and scraps of metal were flaking off him. His skin was glittering, as if he’d tried to shift and gotten stuck. His lips were parted, and his chest was barely moving. And there was a weird purplish stain beneath the skin on his stomach, as if his blood had ditched the restraint of veins and was going on a cross-country jaunt. She frowned. “If he dies before the boys get back, I’ll lose my leverage on Blaine.”
Christian stirred, and his eyes slitted open. The corner of his mouth curved up.
Angelica blinked. “You’re trying to die so Blaine doesn’t give up his freedom for you?” As orgasms were her witness, she just didn’t know how she had gone wrong here. She’d assumed Blaine’s loyalty would get him back to save Christian, but that was Blaine. He had a thing about leaving people behind, and she’d planned to take full advantage of it.
Christian, on the other hand? Not part of her plan! She’d made sure Blaine had tortured Christian repeatedly. How could Christian possibly have any loyalty to the other man?
Christian closed his eyes again, and Mari squatted beside him and took his hand. “See? He needs me. He needs a will to live.”
Angelica sighed as she saw the shimmering in Mari’s eyes. “Oh, lordy, lordy. You’ve gone and fallen in love with him, haven’t you?”
“No!” Mari’s denial was too quick, too panicky. “Of course not!”
“Mari.” Angelica gestured at Christian. “Look at him. He’s killing himself to save his friend. His boys are more important to him than staying alive for you. Don’t you see? He’s already making the choices that will break your heart. He’s not worthy of your love yet.”
“I admire Christian’s loyalty.” Mari sat next to him and stroked his forehead. “And of course he’s mad at me. You made me betray him—”
“No.” Angelica grabbed Mari’s shoulders and yanked her to her feet. “You made the choice to call me when he was escaping. How many times have I told you that it disempowers you to claim you didn’t have a choice! You always have a choice! We always do!”
“Not the men you torture! What choice do they have?”
Angelica gestured at the room full of beds. “They can choose to live or die. They make that decision every day.”
Mari snorted. “That’s not a choice.”
“It is.” Angelica suddenly became aware of the silence of the room. Even the football games were off now, and everyone was watching them. She swore under her breath. None of the men needed to see her talking to her girls as if they were people. She made sure never to come across as empathetic or soft. A man could sense a weakness in a female faster than a dragon could burn up a stack of newspapers on a windy day. She grabbed Mari’s elbow. “Come on.”
“But—”
Oh for the love of overly muscled pectorals! “Your only chance to save Christian is to come with me.” Total lie, but whatever. It was all for the good of her prize girl, and if she had to lie to help her, well, then she’d make up stories until there were no truths left to tell.
And it was also to save her own kingdom, which, ultimately, saved the girls, so self-preservation was a good enough reason to fabricate as well.
She snapped her fingers at burger girl. “Christian doesn’t have my permission to die, so keep him alive even if you have to torture other men to do it. Got it?” She saw Christian’s body flinch, and she smiled. “Well, Chrissy, if you’re going to be such a martyr for the sake of others, you’re going to have to decide who you value more: dying to save Blaine, or staying alive to save all the other warriors stuck here with you.” She waved her hand. “All of you, girls and boys, are hereby granted the gift of staying here until I release you. Your only job is to keep my main boy alive, whatever that takes.” She rolled her eyes. “And if it takes football in addition to torture, then it takes football.”
She felt like the room had suddenly gone bug-eyed.
Hello? Did they not realize that she was a flexible, loving mama who was always willing to shift her modus operandi for the good of her peeps? Sometimes she just got so tired of being considered a mindless, ruthless autocrat. “I’ll be back soon, my darlings. Have fun.”
She shoved Mari toward the front door, then paused to peer outside.
The yellow brick road was empty. No Napoleon yet. Excellent. She’d clearly done a great job convincing him that the new sexual dynamo she’d become needed time to get it all together. She’d told him it required forty-five minutes for the edible glitter to adhere to her nipples, and she was so sure he’d believed it.
Napoleon was a raging hormone. He’d be willing to wait quite a while for the best sex ever, which is what he had somehow deduced he was going to get from her…
Oh… wow… sex with Nappy… it had been good enough back then, but now? Knowing what she knew about her own body and the male trigger points? It would be some kind of night—
“Angelica? Your cheeks are flushed.”
She cleared her throat. Yeah, sex with Nappy would be some kind of night indeed. It would be the kind that stripped her of all the independence and self-supporting ego she’d worked so hard to create. No thank you.
“Here’s the deal, my love.” She hurried Mari down a woodsy path lined with pink rhododendrons. “We’ve got a situation.”
“What does this have to do with Christian?”
Oh, sweet lily of the valley, was she really going to tell the truth to one of her girls? She’d been such a beacon of independence, such a model for the girls. Would it destroy Mari forever if her mentor admitted she needed help? If she acknowledged she wasn’t perfect? Angelica reached the clearing and sat Mari down on the white marble Bench of Peace and Introspection.
Mari frowned. “What’s going on?”
Angelica swallowed, her throat suddenly tight. “I—” Oh, for the love of flavored condoms, spit it out! “My black magic doesn’t come without a price. I’ve taken all your smut and mine and everyone else’s and I’ve diverted it to a resource I call Smutty.”
Mari’s eyes widened. “You said it wasn’t black magic!”
“No, I never actually denied it. You just heard what you wanted to hear.”
“But—”
“That was a good tactic for you, my dear. There’s no reason for any of us to face reality if we don’t like it. Much better to see the world as we want to see it, because then we can feel strong and empowered and happy, and that’s a self-fulfilling prophesy that gives us exactly what we wanted in the first place.”
Mari’s face was pale. “So, all this time, I’ve been creating smut?”
“Yes. Couldn’t be avoided, but that’s okay because there’s this lovely gentleman who I’ve been loading it onto. But my ex-husband is back in town, and he’s planning to kill Smutty so he can take the kingdom back.”
Mari gripped the edge of the bench. “But if your smut monster gets killed, that means—”
“Yes, it means all the fallout will come back onto us.” Oh, she hated to admit that. Her only goal had been to protect her girls and empower them, not turn them into Smutty juniors. “I’ll get the most, but—”
“I have over a hundred years of magic.” Mari looked like she was going to tip over.
Angelica caught her shoulders. “It’s okay, darling. I have it under control.”
Mari stared at her, and Angelica’s heart sank at the look of fear and betrayal on h
er baby’s face. “I trusted you.”
“No, you didn’t. You never have.” Angelica sighed. “Can you really tell me that you never suspected you were using black magic? White magic could never cause the amount of damage we inflicted on those men, and you knew that in your heart.”
“I—” Mari’s mouth opened, and then shut. “You’re right. I did know. I’m so awful—”
“No!” Angelica tightened her grip on Mari’s shoulders. “It was the right choice, and denying it was self-preservation. You’re a good girl, dearie, and I’m proud of you.”
Mari took a deep breath. “I can’t deal with this right now.”
“You’re absolutely right. We don’t have time to get all hung up on ethical discussions.” Oh, how proud was she of her little trouper! No whining by Mari. “We need to go out and find Smutty and get him to a safe place where Napoleon can’t touch him.”
Mari stared at her. “I mean, I can’t deal with any of it. I want to go back to my room and meditate and—”
Oh, well, that wasn’t quite as impressive. “Where’s my warrior girl? Are you going to sit back and let some murderous philanderer give you smut? Or are you going to stand up for all that is large-breasted and estrogenous and take control of your life?” Oh, that was good! Maybe this wasn’t a mistake. This would be so empowering for Mari to take her own life into her control against a man.
Mari hesitated.
Angelica could tell Mari was so close to seeing the light. To finding her strength. Just one more dig and Mari would be empowered. “If Smutty dies and you become smut girl, exactly how long do you think it will be until you’re more interested in carving Christian up than saving him?”
Mari blinked. “I wouldn’t—”
“You would. It’s what smut does. It hops you right on that express elevator to demonhood and all sorts of nasties. Makes you cuckoo girl, and Chrissy goes bye bye.”
“Oh, wow, that’s not okay.” Mari took a breath and stood up. “You’re right, Angelica. I’m not letting some jerk cover me in smut.”
Angelica clapped her hands with delight. “That’s my girl! Let’s go find Smutty!”
Mari nodded. “Where is he?”
“I don’t know. Somewhere in Boston, I think.” Angelica hurried down another path, the one that led to the portal.
Mari didn’t follow, and Angelica turned around. “What?”
Her apprentice looked shocked. “You’re going outside the Den?”
“Of course I am. Why?”
“You haven’t left the Den in two hundred years.” Mari broke into a run and caught up. “You wouldn’t even go outside that time we all got tagged by that vampire and he said he’d kill us if you didn’t come out and meet him.”
“Well, yeah, he was pissed that I’d stolen his daughter. There was nothing to discuss.” And, quite frankly, a ticked off vampire was outside her range of skills, every bit as much as un-melting her Blackberry had been. She’d made the conscious decision to specialize, which meant in the Den she was as powerful as Death on a battlefield. Out in the real world… not quite as confident. She used her powers for torture, not for offensive tactics or warfare. Who knew what the people of Boston were like? Okay, yes, so maybe she had consciously decided to avoid the outside world for the last couple of centuries. Nothing like an ex-husband and the threat of losing your empire to motivate a girl to go adventuring. “But that’s why you’re coming with me. You’re an expert on Boston.”
Mari shot a sharp look at her. “I’m coming along as the expert?”
“Of course you are.” Oh, yes, it was time to elevate her most prized girl. Angelica stopped outside the portal and yanked open the weapons cabinet she’d set up for girls to arm themselves on their way out, and disarm themselves on the way back in. She grabbed several of the new daggers Prentiss had been so impressed with. “My dear, I’m so proud of you. I would trust no one else with a mission of this importance. Not only will you save yourself, but you will also save all the others, and the men in their care.”
Mari drew her shoulders back and a sense of authority settled over her. “You can count on me.”
“I know.” Angelica put her hand on Mari’s shoulder. “Someone needs to take over the Den when I retire, and I want it to be you.” Which was true, in a vague sort of way. Of course, she never planned to retire or die, so it was kind of a moot point, but if she did decide to pack it in, Mari was the only one even close to talented enough to run it, even if she did still have that soft side to her.
But once Mari got the curse… oh, yes… different story.
Maybe Angelica would retire after all. A tropical beach, stocked with manly, half-naked island boys all at her disposal? Might be nice…
“Angelica!” Napoleon’s voice bellowed through the forest.
Angelica squawked and whirled around. “Oh, dear Lord, here he comes.”
“The jerkoff?” Mari glanced over her shoulder, her face curious. “If he’s here, why don’t we just kill him instead of trying to find Smutty? Wouldn’t that be easier?”
Angelica grabbed another handful of weapons and began shoving them in every pocket, in her bra, and stashing them in her skirt. “He’s very difficult to kill.”
“So? You’re very good at killing.” Mari turned toward the woods as Napoleon shouted again. This time closer. She hefted a flamethrower. “It’ll be a lot more efficient.”
“No! We need to—”
Napoleon burst out of the woods. He was stark naked, as erect as the Tower of Pisa (and yes, still just as off-center as the famous building), and the muscles in his quads were flexing. He was breathing hard, and his eyes were dancing with delight. “Oh, my,” he panted. “I didn’t realize you were going to play with my predator instinct by fleeing. I am greatly enamored of that move.” He let out a low growl and began to advance toward her, his body lithe and lean like a wild cat hunting his prey. “I’m going to have you for dinner,” he said, a guttural growl low in his chest.
Angelica’s lower belly convulsed and she caught her breath as the man of her fantasies began to stalk her. Her warriors were putty in her hands. But not Nappy. Nappy would pin her against the wall and hammer home until he was through, no matter what she wanted.
Moisture began to pool between her legs, and—
“By all that’s well-endowed and tanned,” Mari breathed. “I finally understand what you’ve been telling me, that some men are simply too dangerous to be allowed to live.”
Napoleon set his hand on his boytoy and let out a small groan as he continued to close the distance between them, a slow, precise walk of a man who was enjoying every second of the anticipation until he would be inside her.
“One shoe,” Napoleon demanded. “The left one. Take it off.”
Angelica immediately toed off her shoe and flicked it at him. Napoleon snatched the Manolo out of mid-air, then ran the spiked heel down his chest. Scraped a circle around his nipple, leaving a raw red trail behind. “Mark me, woman,” he growled.
Oh, yes, hot mama coming to you—
Mari hoisted the flamethrower and shot him.
“No!” Angelica tackled Mari and wrenched the flamethrower out of her grasp. It shot upward and set the tree on fire as the two women tumbled to the ground. Angelica whipped it around, and then aimed it at Mari’s face.
The girl’s eyes widened, and she went utterly still. “You’re going to shoot me?”
Angelica suddenly realized what she was doing. Shooting Mari because she’d tried to hurt Nappy? Holy blue balls. She whirled around and aimed the gun back at Napoleon, who was still patting out the flames that were dancing on his skin.
Dear Lord, she couldn’t bring herself to kill him. Couldn’t let anyone else kill him either, apparently. Because she still loved him. By all things that were grossly unfair and highly disadvantageous, how could she still love him enough to want him alive?
“Oh, wow, that didn’t even bother him, did it?” Mari was on her feet now. “What now?�
�
There was a feral quality to Napoleon’s smile now. One that said he was ready for things to get rough. The kind of edgy sex that made a girl a little scared, but oh, so curious.
“Time to go.” Angelica grabbed Mari’s arm. “The portal still closes after you, right?”
“Yes, of course, but I kind of think that magical fire-guy over there isn’t going to be deterred for the full three days it’s supposed to be shut down.”
“We’ll take what we can get.” Angelica yanked Mari backward, and she saw the instant that Napoleon realized what she was doing.
He let out a howl of outrage and leapt through the air, torpedoing toward them like an overgrown coconut launched from a catapult. Mari screamed, and then they fell through the portal. It snapped shut with a loud sizzle, and then there was an explosive boom as Napoleon face planted into the blockade.
As the mist closed around them, Angelica strained to listen, to see if Napoleon had broken the safeguard.
Then through the mist, she heard a distant roar of fury. “That was a very serious error in judgment, my love,” he called out, his voice echoing through the vortex. “Now there’s no deal. Smutty dies, and I’m still taking your body.”
Mari looked over at her. “What deal?”
Oh, yeah, that was exactly what she needed. Admitting to Mari that she had to rescue Smutty because she couldn’t handle trading a night of sex with him in exchange for the safety of her kingdom. Not that it would actually save her empire if she did sleep with him. Nappy would take the sex, mess with her mind, and then manipulate them all.
“I could feel how much you want me,” Nappy continued, his voice becoming more distant. “You won’t be able to resist me, and we both know it.” His deep, masculine, and entirely smug laugh echoed through the chamber.
And she knew he was right.
She didn’t need the curse for her girls.
She needed it for herself.
Chapter 17
Trinity was so happy to discover that stepping off a building and free-falling toward the earth with nothing but a very non-birdlike companion to keep her safe was not high on her list of preferred activities.
Kiss at Your Own Risk Page 19