by Anna Abner
“Uh, okay.” He couldn’t see her tuck her long, black hair behind her ears, but he heard it.
Her response pleased him. “Let’s go.” He turned from the window and started for the door. Behind him, Roz scrambled to gather keys, her wallet, and her phone.
“Be back in the morning,” she called to Connor, holed up in the bedroom with Ali.
He glanced over his shoulder, their eyes met, and she flushed a deep red. “Oh. Sorry. I just assumed…”
For a moment, Lukas hesitated. He could say he didn’t want her to stay the night with him. He could say he wanted to return to the cabin and sleep on the floor.
But both statements would be lies.
“No, that’s exactly what I meant. Stay the night with me. You can drive me back in the morning.”
Still flushing, she nodded. “Yeah. Cool.”
Once through the wrecked security gate and off the desolate country roads, Roz lowered the radio’s volume. “How long have you been in Vegas?” she asked.
“A couple weeks,” he said, having to count in his head. Time in the circus-like city seemed to pass differently.
He stared out the window, but it was so dark, he only caught his own reflection. A grief-stricken face punctuated with sad blue eyes. When had he become such a depressed creature? He used to smile. He used to have fun, laugh, joke. He didn’t think he could laugh anymore without cracking into pieces.
He turned back to Roz, and some of the ache dissipated. She was different than any woman—no, any person—he’d ever met. And it wasn’t only because she was a witch. He found that hardly mattered anymore.
More important than her inborn power was her iron core. Her vulnerability. Her beauty, her sharp wit, her vicious tongue. She kept him on his toes, that’s for sure.
Smiling, he looked away before she caught him behaving like a silly kid.
Roz didn’t say anything else right away, but Lukas didn’t enjoy the silence between them. He wanted her to feel comfortable enough around him to chatter, even if they weren’t in the middle of a life-or-death situation.
He wanted to finish their game.
“I play on a football team,” he told her. “It’s just for fun, but we all take it way too seriously.” The memories of his teammates and their overly aggressive competiveness made him smile. “I went to college for four years. I’m messy, but never gross. And my favorite thing to do is have brunch on Sundays at a tiny café down the street from my apartment. They make the best coffee.”
Roz stared at him a moment, her brown eyes warm in the dim light. “I like to box to blow off steam,” she confessed. “I’ve never had brunch, but breakfast is my favorite meal of the day. Unfortunately, I dropped out of college to join Connor’s crusade, but I hope to finish someday.”
“How did you get tangled up in Connor’s crusade?” he asked.
She turned off the radio completely. “We both went to the University of Chicago,” she said with a sigh. “I was dating a guy named Tyler. We were drinking at a party, being stupid. He tried a trick on the balcony, and he fell.” Her voice dropped, “It was really bad.”
“What happened?” he prompted.
“He died. But before he did, I tried to cast a healing spell. There was a crowd. I didn’t know at the time, but Connor was there.”
“What did he do?”
“Nothing at first,” she said. “But I was outed as a witch. I got death threats. Someone wrote nasty things on my dorm room door. Someone else posted rumors and personal information online. I was afraid to go to class.”
Lukas was furious on her behalf. If he’d been there, he would have defended her.
“I was on the verge of dropping out,” she continued, “when Connor tracked me down. He told me about a prophecy and how he wanted to kill Oleksander the Destroyer. He said he needed a witch. He asked me if I’d go to Nevada with him.”
“And you just went?” With a strange man? On a supernatural road trip? “With a vampire?”
“He wasn’t a vampire yet.”
“The infection’s recent?” he clarified. Their mission couldn’t have turned out the way they’d hoped if one had become a vampire.
“We planned for months,” she said, her color rising along with her voice. “We were so sure we could break into Olek’s prison, blow him up, and get out without any consequences. We were idiots. Overconfident, pompous morons. We nearly blew ourselves up and let both Oleksander and Volk escape.” She flashed angry, brown eyes. “But that’s me. I fail on a professional level.” Her anger lingered like a cloud of toxins in the cab.
“That’s not true,” he said succinctly. Not even close.
“Tyler’s dead,” she said. “Connor’s a vampire. Oleksander went free.” Her left leg began to bounce.
“I’m alive,” he reminded her. “And healthy. I owe it all to you.”
Her mouth tightened, and her jaw clenched.
“Tyler may be dead, but it sounds like you couldn’t have helped him, anyway. And Connor doesn’t seem too broken up about the fact that he’s infected and can kick serious ass because of it. And Oleksander’s dead,” he added. “You already told me.”
She finally looked at him again, and all her hurt feelings shone on her face. “I was rejected by the Coven. I can’t even be a real witch.”
He flashed her a sympathetic smile. “I don’t know much about witches or the Coven, but you’re the most powerful witch I’ve come across, and it doesn’t appear to matter two shits if you’re a member of the Coven or not. Who says they know what they’re doing anyway? As far as I can tell, they’re the most evil sons of bitches in the game.”
She returned his brief smile. “Thanks. I know you’re not bullshitting me,” she chuckled low, “because you hate witches like me, and you’d never lie to make me feel better.”
“I don’t hate you,” he replied immediately. “Not even a little bit.”
“Yeah, well,” she returned, “I don’t hate you, either.”
As they neared the outskirts of Vegas, Lukas directed her off the Strip into the older and seedier parts of town.
“Turn here,” he said. “It’s the Miner’s Delight. You can park anywhere.”
As he led her upstairs and toward his rented room, he had the irrational desire to hold her hand. He didn’t. But the desire didn’t go away as he unlocked his door and gestured for her to enter.
Suddenly self-conscious, he mentally inventoried his room and what she must be thinking. Ancient furniture. A saggy mattress. Dirty laundry tossed casually across the desk chair.
Taking a deep breath, he closed the door, sealing them in the room together. The walls shrank in, and the ceiling sank nearly to his head.
Roz faced him, and he found himself inches from her.
Her mouth was fuller than he remembered, her lower lip plump and pink. And her smile, a tad crooked, made him want to lick it.
“It’s nice,” Roz said, eyeing the simple room, bed, and bathroom visible through an arch.
“Don’t lie. It’s a shitty hotel.”
“No,” she started to argue, and then she must have thought better of it. “Okay, it’s shitty.”
“I knew I wouldn’t be spending a lot of time in the room,” he explained. “I only need a bed and a shower once in a while.”
“Mission accomplished.” She stared at the row of luggage. “You brought a lot of stuff.”
He contemplated the pieces. Three sizes, one smaller than the last. He didn’t inhale deeply, but he knew if he did, he’d smell their scents still embedded in their clothes and hairbrushes.
“They’re not mine,” he finally admitted.
“Your family’s?” she guessed.
“I should send them home to Stockholm.” He sank onto the bed and gazed blankly at the smallest case. “Or toss them. Or donate them somewhere.”
She rounded the bed to stand over him. “You don’t have to dump them. I get it.”
When he looked up, she showed sympathy on h
er beautiful face. “As long as their bags are here, you feel close to them.”
He didn’t need to answer. Yes, so long as their bags stayed with him, it was like they were still with him too.
“I have an idea,” she said softly. “What if you brought all your luggage to our suite at the Le Sort?”
“And store it there?” He scowled. He rather enjoyed having it nearby while he slept.
“You could put it in my bedroom,” she continued, “where you could sleep, um, for as long as you stay in the country.”
“Move in with you?” he blurted out, and then regretted his startled tone. “Why?” Was there a chance, even a slim one, that she felt the same way he did?
“Because I like you,” she said, as if it were obvious.
She liked him? Sexy, beautiful, lithe Roz Carrera liked him? But he was irritable and bad at conversation. Not to mention he changed into a giant bear on a regular basis. On top of that, he was grieving and vengeful. He was alone in the world, maybe for good reasons. And Roz liked him? Something small and precious, something currently cold and shriveled, buried deep within his chest warmed to a spark.
He realized he hadn’t responded to her when she ducked her head, her body curling inward slightly.
“You don’t feel the same way,” she said, her voice tight.
“No,” he exclaimed, then, “I mean yes. I mean—” He cleared his throat. He was an oaf. “Roz, when I’m not with you, I’m thinking about you. I come up with excuses to find you. Sometimes, I go to your hotel and roam the promenade hoping to run into you.”
Roz’s chin snapped up. “You do?”
“Yes.”
“Well.” She licked her lips. “I think about you too. Meeting you in the café the past few mornings has been the best parts of my day. When we leave the hotel, I look for you, hoping you’re tracking us.”
“Not ‘us,’” he corrected. “I’m tracking you. Only you. I could care less what Connor and Ali are up to in the evening. But I find myself illogically curious about your goings-on. It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Really?” she mused. “Why not?”
“You’re a witch,” he said simply.
“I am.”
Lukas neared, sensing how fragile she was, but also how strong. “You’re also smart.” He grasped her hands. “And full of fire.” He ran his fingers up her arms. “And sexy.” He placed a soft kiss upon her lips.
“Enough teasing.” Roz shoved him. He played along, backing into the wall. Nowhere else to go. Not unless he could shift into a mouse and tunnel under the floor.
He lowered his head, and she met him halfway. His tongue darted between her lips, and she groaned.
As his mouth invaded, his hand plucked at her shirt, stretching it, burrowing his hand inside to cup her left breast.
“Jesus,” he hissed against her cheek.
She rocked up on her toes as he pinched it between thumb and forefinger, rolling it. She cried out, rubbing her hips against his thigh. Like a dog in heat, he pushed back.
He moaned as if in pain before sliding his free arm around her waist and lifting her off the floor. She squealed, and he turned, sat on the bed, and plopped her on his lap, her back to his front. He looped her knees on the outside edges of his own, and then he opened his thighs, spreading her legs, nearly splitting her. She writhed backward, but he held her tight against his chest with his left arm, sliding roughly under her breasts, jiggling them. His right hand snaked around and down. His fingers probed her spread labia gently, but the contact was enough to rip a scream of delicious agony from her throat.
“You’re wet,” he whispered against her cheek.
He teased her through the cotton crotch of her panties, and then his fingers slid under the waistband of her drawers. The sensation of skin-to-skin contact made her scream again, quieter this time. He dipped a finger inside her, then two. She gasped, rocking harder. Her body shattered, bucking into him, bowing her spine. She threw back her head as her slit pulsed and wept.
Lukas took a breath, unable to move right away. His erection was burning a hole through the denim. Jesus. He wanted to push every inch of it inside of her. His flesh was literally on fire. If Roz touched him, hell, if she rubbed against him, he may scream. Or come. Tough call.
“There’s a tire iron under my ass,” she panted before rocking into him.
Knulla. Grasping her waist, he guided her as her bottom swirled over his cock, massaging it through her panties and his jeans. Circle, circle, grind. He cried out a raw, strangled sound and jerked his hips. She turned and threw her arms around his neck.
“Thank you,” she breathed into his shoulder.
Amused, sated, surprised, content. He felt so many things, he was lightheaded, and all he could manage was a huff of a laugh. “Anytime. And I mean anytime.”
Deliciously spent and boneless, Lukas spread across the mattress, pulling Roz against him. Her warm, languid little body became the cherry on top of his pleasure sundae, and he cradled her tenderly, memorizing every sensation she aroused.
The sleepiness and the pure happiness loosened his tongue. He spoke without thinking about anything except sharing the burden of the worst day of his life.
“We were coming back from a concert,” he murmured, closing his eyes and drifting in the memories. “My stepfather, my beautiful mother, and silly Oskar. In the lobby of our hotel, a young woman in distress approached us. She said her friend was drunk and had hurt herself. She needed our help. When we offered to call security, she said we couldn’t. Her friend had a warrant.”
Roz shook her head in sympathy. “Such a shitty trick,” she murmured back.
“She led us to the parking lot and a white van. My mom and step-dad got in first. Then she shoved Oskar in. By then, of course, I sensed something was wrong, and I wasn’t going to let my family out of my sight. I followed Oskar in with the intention of grabbing all three and running away. But the van was small. She was on my back before I could maneuver. She cut my throat and fed. The blood loss was so fast…”
He paused to settle fully in the memory, feeling again the frustration and sense of helplessness. Even closed, his eyes leaked warm tears, one from each corner. “I woke up sometime later. My mother was dead. My stepfather was dead. The vampire was feeding on Oskar. And even though I could see my brother was also dead, I couldn’t… His little body…” Pain crested, and he took a moment to breathe through it. “She fed on me until I passed out again. The next time I woke up, it was at the bottom of a mineshaft tangled amidst the bodies of my family. I was so weak, it was hours before I was strong enough to stand up, to lift them out, to carry them across the desert.”
“My God, Lukas…” Her tiny arm tightened around his ribs. “I’m so sorry.”
He didn’t need her sympathy, though. He needed to get the entire story out. “I found a road. No one would stop, but someone called for help. The police arrived. They didn’t believe my story, but there was no evidence to hold me as the murderer. The moment I stepped out of that police station, I was on a mission. Ever since, I’ve been roaming up and down the Strip, looking for her. If she did it once, she’ll pull the same trick again. I just have to find her.”
“I’ll help you,” Roz promised. “No matter how long it takes, we’ll find her and make her pay.”
He resettled, cradling Roz more fully. With the scent of her coconut shampoo in his nose and the feel of her silken skin against his chest, he floated away into sleep.
#
In the morning, they showered, dressed, loaded Lukas’ luggage—all of it—and shared a country breakfast at a buffet on Tropicana. On their way out of town, they dropped off his bags at the suite in Le Sort and grabbed a change of clothes before driving south.
“Enjoy your night off?” Connor greeted them at the cabin’s front door with a knowing smirk and a handshake for Lukas.
“Shut up,” Roz answered. “Any new catastrophes while we were gone?”
“Nope.” Conno
r closed and locked the door behind them. “Volk has been fading in and out. He’s not all there yet. Other than him, it’s been quiet.”
“Cool.” Quiet was fantastic. Quiet was a goddamned blessing.
Lukas’ chin snapped up, and then Connor reacted to something Roz couldn’t hear.
“What is it?”
Neither answered, but an oversized black SUV pulled up outside the ruined gate. Connor went through the front door first, followed quickly by Lukas.
“Who is it?” Ali asked, appearing in the hallway.
“No idea.” Roz wasn’t one hundred percent on her power, so she tucked a .357 in the back waistband of her jeans.
A big guy, just as big as Connor and Lukas, climbed out of the driver’s seat. Two other MMA wannabes got out and flanked him. The first and oldest of the crew wore khakis and a collared shirt. All the others were dressed casually in jeans. She wondered if this had anything to do with Volk. With the horde’s crown prince chained up in their kitchen, anything was possible.
“Hello,” greeted collared shirt, waving in a friendly way.
“Can we help you?” Connor asked, crossing his arms and staying near the front patio.
“Yeah, hi. I’m Michael. This is my son Markus.” He pointed at the young man beside him with his hands stuffed in his pockets. “And Seth is my nephew.” The third man smiled tightly. “We’re here to meet Lukas Larsson.”
Roz frowned at Lukas, who appeared just as surprised at the mention of his name as she was.
Were they here from the Coven? Was this their punishment for Sara—to be beaten to death by a group of weightlifters?
“I’m Lukas.” He stepped forward, patting Connor reassuringly on the arm as he passed him. “Who the hell are you?”
Michael moved closer, but not close enough to shake hands. “I’m Michael Hull, the alpha of the Vegas pack.”
“Yeah, and?” Lukas countered.
Roz joined Lukas, her shoulder brushing his elbow. Caitlyn’s little tip about Michael Hull had come back to haunt them. She really should have taken the Oracle more seriously and done her research.