by Kiersten Fay
Ryder was still gaping, however, so she figured she had to look pretty amazing.
“Hi,” she said, for lack of a better greeting.
“Naia,” Cortez replied coolly with a slight incline of his head.
Formal reception? Fine. Whatever.
“I’m eager to see my brother,” she said, just as stiff.
“Of course. Follow me.” He started back through the crowd.
Dejected by their hollow interaction, Naia started to trail after him, but before she did, she caught a furtive thumbs up from Ryder. She cocked an eyebrow at him, but he’d already spun away, heading in the opposite direction.
Her heels clacked almost silently under the layer of loud music as she scurried to catch up to Cortez’s long strides. He led her back out into the lobby—Kenzi was still there, with a surreptitious smirk as they passed—then through the hallway where their disastrous meeting had changed everything, and finally through another corridor she had never seen before till they reached an elevator that only seemed to go down.
To the basement? She shivered.
Cortez noticed. “Are you cold?”
“No, just...no, I’m fine.”
He eyed her for a moment longer as though intensely wanting to question her. Not being able to read someone’s mind would do that to a guy, but he appeared to conquer his curiosity and didn’t push.
He retrieved a key from his pocket and inserted it into a keyhole in the elevator’s panel before pressing a sequence of buttons. The doors slid closed, and the compartment began its descent. The silence between them was stuffed with everything they refused to say. Naia fidgeted with her hair. The ends were still a little damp. She glanced up at Cortez. He was facing forward. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again, coming up empty.
“Don’t be alarmed when you see your brother,” he broke the silence. “It is imperative that he remain contained for the time being.”
That sounded cryptic. The elevator came to a stop, and the doors parted to reveal a large, dim room walled by stone. It took her a moment to realize she was surrounded by several barred cells, like a prison from the wild west.
Cautiously, she stepped out of the elevator. Movement drew her attention to where Cole lay on a cot with his hands tucked behind his head.
Realizing he had visitors, he sat up and then zipped toward the front of his...cage. His speed was unnatural. Inhuman.
He wrapped his fingers around the bars. “Naia?”
“Oh, Cole.” She lurched forward, needing to hug those big shoulders and verify he was real, but Cortez locked one arm around her and snatched her back by the waist. The contact was a shock to her system, and suddenly she was caught between a set of conflicting desires: sink against his brawny chest like an addict getting a fix, or start throwing elbows to get to Cole.
“Let me go!”
“I can’t do that,” he informed her, his tone a low rumble that reverberated through her body. “You can’t get within his reach. He’s too young. He’d sink his teeth into you and not even realize what he was doing. He’s here for his own protection as well as others until he learns to control the hunger.”
She noticed Cole’s fangs then, bright and gleaming. A kind of garbled, horrified sob slipped out.
Cole turned sheepish. “I really fucked up this time, didn’t I sis?”
Her eyes burned as her heart shattered a thousand different ways. “No, Cole. This is my fault. I’m the one that fucked up. I should never have accepted Dante’s offer. I knew it was wrong. We should have left town when you wanted to. If we had, none of this would have happened.”
Cortez stiffened, still holding her as though fearing any second she’d leap at Cole to embrace him through the bars in a big sister thank-god-you’re-alive hug. He was right to restrain her.
“Dante would never have let us go,” Cole replied. “His plans started the moment he met you.”
Because he knew Cortez would find the woman whose mind he couldn’t read irresistible. “So you see? It is my fault.”
“Don’t,” Cole hissed. “Don’t blame yourself for this. If anything, blame him.” Cole jerked a narrowed gaze at Cortez. “He’s the one who created that monster.”
She expected Cortez to sling something back at Cole, but he remained silent. Did he blame himself too? Were they all taking on that weight?
Suddenly Cole’s breath changed. His hands tightened around the bars. He shook his head as if trying to clear it, then growled—literally growled—like an animal. “Take her away.” His voice had roughened in a way she’d never heard before. “She smells too good.” Another hard shake of his head. “I can’t.... It’s....”
She gasped at his pained expression, her throat thickening. My being here is hurting him. Trying to conceal her injured tone, she asked, “Do you...Do you want me to stay away?”
“No,” he rushed out, suddenly panicked. “Please. Visit me tomorrow. After I’ve fed.” He sneered the last.
Cortez dragged her back into the elevator. Just before the sliding doors stole him from her sight, she choked out, “I’m so sorry, Cole.”
Chapter 39
Drowning in the dichotomy of both grief and gratitude, Naia turned and threw her arms around Cortez, her breath hitching as she thanked him for saving her brother’s life. He seemed startled at first, his body stiff, but then he rigidly returned her embrace.
Cole was alive. Alive! Locked away, sure, but not forever. He just needed to learn to control his cravings, much in the same way she had learned to use her abilities. She’d be here to help him in any way she could. Soon enough he’d be out hustling again.
When the elevator doors opened to the main floor, she realized Cortez had permitted her to hold onto him for the entire ride. She was grateful for that small show of kindness.
He gazed down at her with a strange expression. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he appeared almost unsure. Maybe he didn’t know how to tell her it was time for her to go back to her apartment.
She offered him an I-can-play-ball smile. She would do anything to stay in Cole’s life, even pretend she wasn’t gutted whenever she looked at Cortez. “I’ll see you around,” she said and then started for the exit.
Cortez cleared his throat. “I have something else to show you.” With that, he stalked past her, expecting her to follow.
She did.
He led her to his office, the one she had snooped through. She sat across from him and placed her hands in her lap to keep from wringing them. Was he preparing to chew her out again? Did he want to talk about their relationship? Whatever things he didn’t think they were ready for?
Silently he rummaged through the desk drawer and then pulled out a large navy-blue binder and placed it in front of her. Hesitantly, she flipped it open and gazed down at a calendar...no, wait, it was a schedule sheet. In elegant scrawl, her name was written in a timeslot (eight to eight thirty) under the column designated Whitlock Stage.
She blinked up at Cortez. “You...you’re giving me a job?”
“Three days a week, you can come here and sing. I’ll pay you a salary. We can talk numbers later.”
“Why? Why now?” Why did this feel like a nail in the coffin of their relationship?
“As long as Cole is my charge, you’ll be taken care of.” He was so business-like, calm, cool, and collected, Naia wanted to spit just to get a different reaction from him.
“That’s the only reason?”
He leaned back in his chair. “The vampires I sire are unable to lie to me when I ask them direct enough questions.” He paused and raised a brow. “I questioned Cole extensively.”
She swallowed painfully. Translation: he knew all her secrets. He knew what she was. Knew that singing wasn’t an ego-driven desire, but a necessity of life. Cortez felt obligated to her because of Cole. He might not be happy about it, but he was breaking his own rules to give her what she needed. Was making sure she was taken care of. It was what she’d wanted.
So why did she suddenly feel like pelting the schedule at him while telling him to shove it up his ass?
“And what about us?” She kept very still lest she betrayed her emotion.
“I’ve come to the conclusion that it might be better if we remain...friends.”
She lost the air in her lungs. Devastation was a plague in her system that was spreading fast. He wanted to be friends? She had fallen for him completely, and he wanted to be friends?
He continued as if he hadn’t just stomped on her heart. “You know a relationship with an employee isn’t something I’m interested in.”
That was an easy fix. “Okay, so then I won’t take the job.”
“That’s ludicrous. Don’t be stubborn.”
“I’m the one being stubborn? You won’t even give us a shot.”
“Naia,” he sighed. “It would never work out in the long run.”
“So you’re a relationship psychic now?”
“I’ve been through enough of them to know—”
“Oh pa-lease.”
“Pardon?”
“I’d understand if there was no spark between us, or even if it was just mere attraction, you have to feel it. I know it’s not just me. We’re combustible. Have you ever experienced that with anyone else?”
His expression shuttered and he didn’t respond, which was a big fat answer if there ever was one.
“I know I haven’t. What we had...have is incredible. And I’m not ready to let it go. What are you afraid of?”
He scoffed. “I’m not afraid of anything. We had fun. That’s all it was.”
That boot twisted.
“You are just another member of my clan now.”
Planting both palms on his desk, she stood and leaned forward.
“Tell me you don’t want me.”
It seemed to take him a moment to realize what she’d said since his gaze had dipped to her cleavage, turning heated. “I don’t want you,” he muttered, his tone guttural.
She grinned triumphantly.
His brows knit.
“Then I’ll take the job.” She stood and headed for the door, glancing back over her shoulder where he sat, confounded. “Call me when Cole has fed.” Then she left, a plan forming in her mind.
Chapter 40
One hundred percent without a doubt Cortez had lied when he said he didn’t want her. Blind nuns could have seen through him. He’d tried to project indifference, but every part of him had betrayed his true feelings. A slight flinch, an audible swallow, a clenched fist, the false note in his voice, the pain in his eyes. Oh, he wanted her a great deal, but the idiot was going to deny himself because of some dumb rule he’d placed on himself? It didn’t make any sense. There had to be more to it than not wanting to date someone who worked for him. He’d determined she needed to sing, but she could easily get a lesser paying job somewhere else. Hell, she’d sing on a busy street corner for change if it meant they could be together.
She spent most of the next day preparing. Step one, make herself drop-dead gorgeous, even more so than yesterday, all stops pulled out. If he really didn’t want her, it shouldn’t be a problem for him. Step two, figure out how to seduce a male...or maybe that should be the first step. Seduction had never been her thing. Cortez had been the one to sweep her off her feet, beguile and bewitch her. She just had to do what he did, only in reverse.
She’d unpacked all her new clothes and had taken inventory of her sexiest outfits. Cortez had sent her away with an arsenal to be used against him. She wore a black, gauzy piece with an elegant open scoop back that was aloft by a set of delicate spaghetti strap bows at the shoulders. Pull the strings and the whole thing would come crashing down.
Along with her provisions, she’d also picked up a large bouquet of roses, red, of course, with a risqué note that read: I wanted to thank you for everything, but since I can’t have my mouth around your cock, I went with flowers instead. xoxo—friends forever.
She felt diabolical.
Her cell rang. Cortez’s name flashed on the screen. She waited a couple rings and then answered with a saucy purr in her voice. “Hello?”
There was a brief silence. Had she thrown him? “Cole just fed. Would you like me to send a car?”
“Oh, yes, please.”
Another short silence. “Donovan will be there shortly.”
Hanging up, she snickered.
When she met Donovan at the door, he eyed her outfit, her makeup and the vase stuffed with flowers. His lips twitched. “You ready for round one?”
“I’m going for the knockout.” With any luck, Cortez was going to be blindsided. On the ride over, however, doubt crept in. “Donovan?” she asked just as they pulled up to the front entrance.
“Mm?”
“I could be about to make a huge fool of myself, so I’m asking you honestly. Should I just let him go?”
Donovan met her gaze in the mirror. “Are you kidding? After last night, I put a grand on you for the win.”
“You did not.” She laughed, but then his eyes turned serious, and she decided he was telling the truth. “You’re gambling on our relationship?”
He nodded proudly. “Best entertainment we’ve had in a while. And when he sees you in that dress, you’ll have him by the short and curlies.”
Another laugh burst out of her, the kind that ran amuck and took one’s breath with it. After a minute, she sobered. “So, you’re okay if I get back together with him? You don’t hate me?”
“For what? Trying to get us all annually flogged by Dante and the VEA?”
She cringed.
“Nah. You were duped, same as us. I don’t like that it had to go down the way it did, but if you work the boss like I think you’re going to, then maybe things worked out the way they were supposed to.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I’ve seen the way he is with you...and how he is without you.” Donovan glanced up at Ever Nights. “He’s better with you. Whether Cortez wants to admit it or not, you two have something very rare. You don’t just give that up without a fight.”
She nodded, mentally donning her boxing gloves. “Got any tips for me?”
A sly grin spread across his face. “He had a new camera installed yesterday. Aimed at the Whitlock Stage.”
So he could watch her perform? “Doesn’t want me my ass,” she muttered under her breath and then stepped out of the car.
Chapter 41
Donovan followed her inside, presumably for ringside seats. The lobby was unusually full. Ryder was there chatting with Kenzi, both trying to act inconspicuous as they slid glances her way. They were ready for a show. Briefly she wondered how many of them had made bets on her and Cortez.
She spotted the man in question, and her mind stutter stepped. Glorious, gorgeous male in his tailored suit with his tussled hair and lips that—
Focus!
He was glaring at his employees—reading their thoughts?—and hadn’t noticed her entrance. No doubt he knew all about the bets.
Then his gaze snapped to her and something like a jolt shot through him. His mouth parted, eyes widening.
And the crowd cheers!
He scraped a hand down his face and then affected a neutral manner. “Naia,” he greeted coolly.
“Cortez,” she mocked his tone, letting a smile play along the corners of her lips as she crossed the room. “I got these for you,” she handed over the bouquet.
His brows shot skyward. “I don’t think anyone has ever given me flowers before.”
“It’s a first for me, too. Read the note.” She folded her hands behind her back and innocently swayed.
He rolled his eyes as though this was a chore and then plucked the note off its plastic holder. She watched his eyes scroll over the card.
A strangled gust of air wheezed out of him.
She grinned and leaned in a bit closer, lowering her voice to a smoky whisper. “You can always exchange the flowers for the other option.”
H
e was a wire ready to snap. That was where she wanted him, racked with raw, carnal desire just like she’d been as she’d written those rousing words.
Gazing up at him from under her lashes, she added, “In fact, I can’t stop thinking about it.”
Sweet tension stole through him. He glanced at her lips with an intensity she felt in her bones. She was pretty sure Donovan was about to win his bet, because it looked as though Cortez was about to kiss her. She let her head fall back slightly.
Then a vein popped on his forehead, and he crushed the note in his fist. “Ryder will take you to see Cole today.” He stalked away. Her heat sank. He’d bolted like he’d just discovered she was a bomb ready to detonate. To Ryder, he called over his shoulder, “Make sure she doesn’t get close to the bars.”
With that he was gone, and she was left wondering if she’d been wrong about the whole situation. Maybe he really didn’t want her.
A sharp pang darted her heart.
Ryder stepped up beside her. “Okay. What the hell did that note say?”
She pursed her lips, blushing in response.
“That good, huh?”
“How was that even remotely good?” she said, dejected. Clearly Cortez hated it.
He pointed in the direction Cortez had escaped. “That’s a man ready to blow.”
Blow a gasket, maybe. She sighed. “So who did you bet on?”
At first Ryder was stunned by her comment, then he smirked. “Money’s on you, babe.”
* * *
Cole did seem better today, or, at least, he wasn’t gripping the bars like he was thinking about tearing through them on his way to her throat. Way to go, baby bro. Progress.
However, when she took a step just a bit too close for Ryder’s comfort, Ryder stayed her by the elbow—very different than Cortez. Ryder’s was the grip of a body guard; Cortez’s had been that of a lover. Had he even realized it?
“How are you feeling?” she asked Cole.