by I. T. Lucas
Geneva dipped her head and took in a long breath. "It's not really about you. Please don't tell Alexander I told you this, but we were promised two weeks off. And believe me, the crew needs it."
Alex had mentioned something about not needing the Anna for the next couple of weeks. But Amanda had a feeling the captain was deflecting with a convenient excuse.
For now, though, Amanda would give her the benefit of the doubt.
"I see, sorry I've ruined your vacation plans. Now I can understand why you guys are pissed off at me. How about I double your pay for the time I'm here? Will that improve everyone's mood?'
"You'll do that?"
"Sure, I want to enjoy myself and I am willing to pay for it. Give me the names and numbers and I'll wire the money to each girl's account. And put the vodka on my tab as well." Suddenly, Amanda was struck by a brilliant idea. "One bottle for each girl and one for me. I bet a hundred that this American can outdrink all of you Russians."
Geneva's smile was the first Amanda had seen since getting on board. "In that case, American, you will have to pay for at least three bottles of vodka for each. One bottle is not a challenge for a Russian."
Yeah, like these girls could handle three bottles.
Amanda pretended being horrified for about five seconds, then narrowed her eyes at Geneva and smiled. "You are on, suka." She watched as Geneva's eyes widened.
"You speak Russian?"
"Nah, just a few curse words." No need to reveal her cards, yet, or ever. For some reason Amanda suspected there was more going on than met the eye on board the Anna.
Things didn't add up.
Why hire a graceless, foreign crew for a luxury blue water yacht that must've cost Alex something in the range of twenty-five million?
Save some chump-change on wages?
Come to think of it, where did he get the kind of money needed to buy a boat like this?
His share in the clan profits was enough to keep him in style, but not this kind of style, and his club, although successful, wasn't making this kind of money either.
Was Alex really dealing drugs as Kian had insinuated?
Well, tonight, she was going to get the crew drunk and ask some questions. With an immortal's high tolerance for alcohol, even the infamous Russians had no chance of besting her in a drinking competition.
CHAPTER 25: SEBASTIAN
It was late evening when Sebastian's plane taxied up to the sleeve at Tom Bradley International Terminal in Los Angeles.
Immigration took forever, but everything went without a hitch. An hour and a half later, he and his assistants walked up the ramp where they were greeted by a uniformed limo driver with a sign that read 'Mr. Sebastian Shar'.
Slugging along the freeway in LA's infamous traffic, it took another hour to reach their accommodations for the night—the renowned Beverly Hills hotel.
"Nice," Robert said as he looked around the elegant lobby.
"Wait until you see the suites I've reserved for us, each with a bedroom, a separate living room, and a balcony." Tom glanced at Sebastian. "You said to go for the best…"
"Yes, I did." He'd meant for himself, but what the hell, it wasn't like the cost was going out of his own pocket. Let the men enjoy. "Only the best for my team. Go settle down, I'll see you tomorrow morning." Sebastian pocketed the card-key to his suite.
"Eh, boss…" Tom stopped him. "What about some ass? I don't know about you, but I need some, and so does Robert. He is just too shy to say anything."
"Call the concierge, tell him you're with me and you need special accommodation. He'll know what to do."
"Sweet…"
Sebastian had tried the service before. Unfortunately, it couldn't provide for his particular tastes. And it wasn't a good idea to indulge with an unreceptive hooker anywhere other than the island. Even with the fast healing the venom facilitated, it took time for the evidence to disappear, and the last thing he needed was to call attention to himself by getting arrested.
Besides, in a hotel, there was no way to contain the screams other than gagging his victim, which he preferred not to do. It was like watching a movie without the sound.
And what fun was that…
Which meant no room service for Sebastian. He had to scratch his itch elsewhere.
But as the saying went; where there was demand, for the right amount of money, there was supply.
The first time Sebastian had visited LA, he had found a club catering to his extreme tastes and had been a loyal member, or customer as it was, since.
"Tomorrow, nine, my suite. Until then, I bid you goodnight," he told his men and headed to his room.
Let them think what they would.
Sebastian waited until the bellboy brought his luggage, then grabbed a quick shower, changed into something appropriate for his planned activity, and called for a taxi to take him to the club.
CHAPTER 26: DALHU
The passage of time progressed at a different pace in rooms without windows, Dalhu reflected as he stared at the ceiling. Or maybe it was the isolation and lack of activity that made it seem as if he'd been stuck in there forever. Though in reality, it was less than forty-eight hours since he had been imprisoned.
And twenty-one hours thirty-two minutes since he'd last seen Amanda.
But who was counting?
Fuck.
Why had she abandoned him?
She could've at least called. There was a phone in his fancy prison. And although it wasn't connected to the outside world, only to some guy in security, she could've obtained the number with ease.
Or not.
Maybe her brother had forbidden it.
Probably.
It was the most likely explanation.
Amanda had loved their bathroom interlude, and Dalhu could think of no reason for her to stay away unless she had no choice.
He was going out of his mind with worry.
And boredom…
How many movies could a guy watch?
The only other entertainment option was a large assortment of video games, but he'd never learned how to play.
Not that he had any desire to.
Grown men shouldn't entertain themselves with boys' games.
By now, he'd hoped Amanda would come see him again. But the only visitor he'd had for the past day and a half was the stoic butler who had been bringing in his meals.
Strange that they were sending the small man by himself with no Guardian backup. Not that Dalhu had any intention of hurting the guy, still, they had no way of knowing it. And although the Goddess hadn't seemed to regard Dalhu as a murderous abomination, her son definitely had.
Not that the fucker was wrong necessarily.
But the butler didn't appear to have a problem with Dalhu. Polite, as if serving an honored guest, the stout little man wasn't nervous around him at all.
Getting some information out of the guy, though, had been a no go. Same for the significantly less cordial guy in security.
No one would tell Dalhu anything.
Still, when the butler showed up again with the evening snack, Dalhu gave it another try.
"Hey, my man, does anyone plan on seeing me tonight?"
"I do not know, sir."
"And Amanda, is she well?"
"As I have said before, I do not know."
Well, it was worth a try.
But then the butler added, "I have not seen the mistress today to ask about her well-being.”
"Why? Where did she go?"
"I do not know, sir."
Fuck, the guy didn't deny that Amanda was gone.
Had her brother had something to do with it? Had he sent her away to prevent any further contact between them?
Anger rising to the surface, Dalhu managed to appear calm until the little guy left. Once he was alone, though, the urge to destroy everything in his vicinity became almost overpowering. He didn't. All that trashing the room would have achieved, aside from releasing the excess steam, would have been to pro
ve Kian's point, and Dalhu was not about to give the fucker the satisfaction.
Still, the barely contained rage needed an outlet.
A good, rigorous fight would've helped, or even a long run, but as those were not an option, Dalhu dropped to the floor and began a series of fast pushups.
He slowed the pace after the first thousand but kept going without rest until he was drenched in sweat.
It wasn't enough, though.
It took another three thousand sit-ups until he was finally ready to quit and hit the shower.
CHAPTER 27: KIAN
"Have you talked with Amanda?" Kian asked, giving the comforter a tug from his side and stretching it nice and flat over the bed the way Syssi liked it.
For some unfathomable reason, Syssi had insisted on making the bed herself instead of leaving the task to Okidu.
It wasn't like the butler needed help with the house chores, after all, he never tired and never slept, which thanks to Annani, Syssi was now well aware of.
Kian still couldn't believe he hadn't explained about Okidu. But the truth was that he'd never regarded his butler as anything other than a person, often catching himself giving Okidu incomplete instructions because it was so damn easy to forget the guy's limits.
And besides, considering the whirlwind of events following Syssi's transition and Amanda's kidnaping, no wonder the subject had never come up.
It had slipped his mind.
Not that Syssi had made a big deal out of it. In fact, Syssi was not the type to make a big deal out of anything other than the really important stuff.
His sweet Syssi, he smiled at her from across the bed. He was so lucky to have her.
And he had to admit that doing this little morning chore together felt kind of nice. Intimate, in a familiar sort of way. Kian was looking forward to countless mornings just like this one.
Each time he'd woken up with Syssi's warm body in his arms, Kian had thanked the fates for the gift of her—the happiness and gratitude setting a positive tone for the rest of his day.
And whether it was her chest or her back that was pressed to his front, he had no particular preference—both were equally enticing.
Now that Syssi wasn't allowing him out of bed before she was up, he was making love to her every morning as well as every night.
Good times. Good times indeed.
"No, I'm giving her space. I wanted to call her yesterday, you know, after your mother sprung that whole wedding thing on me, but then I decided to wait. Amanda didn't get away just to have me heap my troubles on top of hers. She has enough stuff to sort out."
Troubles?
"I'll pretend I didn't just hear you say that."
"What?"
"Marrying me is trouble?"
"Oh, you know what I mean. But here…" Syssi climbed on top of the just-made bed and crab-walked on her knees to where he was standing on the other side. Grabbing him by his shirt, she pulled him to her mouth and kissed him until they were both starved for breath. "Better?" she panted.
"A little…" Kian lifted her in his arms then spread her out on the bed, covering her with his body like a blanket. "Now, this is better…" He began trailing kisses, starting with her sweet lips, going down to her chin, then her neck, until he reached her breasts. Cupping her through her shirt he pushed them together and licked the valley in between.
Syssi giggled. "Oh, shoot, now we'll have to make the bed again."
"We could wait, you know…" Kian gazed into her smiling eyes, so full of love, so adoring. "I want our wedding to be a source of joy for you, not anxiety."
"I know, right? My heart is fully on board with it, but I can't stop thinking about how little we know each other. And after a lifetime of cautiously examining each and every decision, no matter how trivial, I'm having trouble with just jumping headlong into the most important one. It's not like I'm having doubts, you know my heart belongs to you, forever. I'm just a big, fat, chicken, that's all."
"First of all, you're not big, and not fat. And as to being a chicken, well, you are my scrumptious, hot chick." Kian gave the valley between her breasts another long lick. "Yummy…" He smacked his lips.
"How come you're not freaking out? I thought men were supposed to be the commitment-phobes …"
"I've waited for you for close to two thousand years, and now that I have you, I'm done with waiting. I love you, will always love you, and will never stop loving you. I know it like I know that the sun will rise in the morning and set in the evening, and that spring will lead to summer. No doubts. You were, are, and will be the only one for me."
Syssi's eyes misted with tears. "Wow, I have no words…"
"You don't have to say anything. Your eyes and your body tell me all I need to know. For now. Later, when you find the words, you'll tell me." He quoted her own words back to her. The words she'd spoken to him that first night they had spent together.
Her eyes foggy with tears, she reached a hand to cup his cheek and smiled. "Well, my love, it seems you found the most beautiful words. And to think you claimed you're not a romantic."
"I had professed to be an uncouth brute, and a crude, insensitive jerk. I've never said anything about not being romantic. Though, I'm just telling it as it is."
"I love you so much," Syssi whispered.
"I know."
"No more doubts, I don't need any more time, let's do it—a grand wedding to eclipse them all."
"What have I done? I've created a monster!" Kian gasped in mock horror, then kissed the living daylights out of her. "But seriously," he said after letting her take a breath, "if you need more time, that's okay. Just not too long—I'm not a patient guy."
"No, I'm diving in, headlong. And if it means that Amanda's little vacation is cut short, tough. I'm calling her, and she'd better pack her bags and come home right away. I need her."
"That's my girl." Kian kissed Syssi's forehead. "Beautiful, lush, smart, and brave."
"Brave?"
"Yes, brave. Bravery is not about the absence of fear: It's about facing it and conquering it."
The little smirk on her face told him that she liked his compliment, but then she said, "If this is so, my love, you need to back your words with actions. It's time you faced your own fears and conquered them."
This was not the answer he'd been expecting.
And what did she mean by that?
"Did you just call me a coward?" Kian pinned her arms to her sides.
"I wouldn't dream of it." A mischievous smile was tugging at her lips. "You might spank me if I did," she breathed.
Imp.
"I'm going to spank you anyway…because you fucking love it."
"When?"
"Not before you tell me what that facing my fears is all about."
Turning serious, Syssi sighed, and with a little shrug freed her arms. She then cupped his cheeks with her soft palms. "In your case it is not about fear. It's about facing the demons of your past and rising above them. You need to go talk to Dalhu."
And wasn't that a complete mood spoiler.
Damn Doomer.
"I know. And later today I will. But I want Andrew to be there. Without him to verify it, I won't believe anything that comes out of that scum's mouth."
"Text him, I'm sure Andrew would gladly offer his lie detector services."
CHAPTER 28: ANDREW
Andrew closed the Maldives file with mixed feelings. He hated that there was nothing for him to report, or rather nothing he could report. The war between the two immortal factions was not a threat to national security, and therefore not something his agency was concerned with.
Under normal circumstances, he would've forwarded the file to the police or the FBI, but there sure as fuck was nothing ordinary about this.
But be that as it may, the new file assigned to him was so massive that he was glad to be rid of the old one. Someone higher up had either been tipped off, or just had the smarts to realize that airport security should include in its screening not o
nly the travelers, but also the thousands upon thousands of employees; from cleaning crews, mechanics, and other service personnel, to stewardesses and pilots.
Right now, he had close to two hundred employee files to investigate, and that was only the initial sweep of potential suspects from just one airport.
If his boss had thought Andrew could do it all by himself, the guy was delusional.
And as if Andrew hadn't had enough on his plate, this morning Kian had texted him, asking Andrew to stop by any time that worked for him. Today. Apparently, his unique talent was required for verifying the Doomer's story.
There would be no overtime for Andrew this evening, at least not on his official job.
At five sharp, he headed out, ignoring the raised brow or two his coworkers sported. They would have to get used to him no longer being the last one to leave the office.
Gone were the days when he had stayed late because there had been nothing and no one waiting for him at home, and he would work, or hit the downstairs gym, until it was late enough for him to join his friends for some drinks at the bar.
Now, he had a whole bloody clan that needed him. And surprisingly, the added responsibility felt good. Or maybe it was the sense of belonging—of being part of a tribe.
Even if only on its fringes, he thought as he eased into the designated guest parking of the luxury high-rise. Andrew wondered what would it take for him to get access to the private one underground.
Hell, he still didn't even know Kian's last name.
True, with a name like that it wasn't as if the security guard manning the reception desk at the lobby would ask Kian who?
As soon as Andrew said he was there to see Kian, the two guys at the front desk snapped to attention. One got busy on the phone while the other pointed Andrew to the waiting area. "Someone will be here shortly to escort you upstairs."
Ignoring the guard's suggestion, Andrew did a little walk about the lobby, taking in the opulence he'd been too agitated to notice the first time he'd been here. The space, some thirty feet tall and spanning most of the building's footprint, was all marble, glass and mirrors. Dotted with contemporary leather sofas and chairs that were grouped around glass tables, and big, green trees he wasn't sure were real or fake, it looked like the lobby of a high-end hotel.