Angels and Demons

Home > Contemporary > Angels and Demons > Page 20
Angels and Demons Page 20

by A. C. Bextor


  “The coward got to Mia. He said shit to scare her. He touched her,” I remind Vlad. “I’d want a hand in dealing with him.”

  “I understand your frustration,” Vlad returns evenly. He holds a glass of scotch in one hand, his index finger running along the rim. He contemplates before giving, “But you’ll keep to your business, just as I’ll keep to mine.”

  Leaning forward, pissed at his dismissal, I return, “Mia is mine.”

  “Don’t you mean Angel?” Abram touts. “Angel is yours.”

  Vlad’s lip twitches. He moves his hand to his face, running his palm down the side of his head. He thinks this is funny.

  “Why’d you call the club off him after he showed at our door?”

  “Because Toby is a coward,” he explains.

  “That’s been proven.”

  “And cowards do incredibly stupid things when cornered.”

  “Yes, they do,” I agree.

  Vlad glances to Abram standing sentry at his side and states, “I needed to see where the asp was leading us before I removed its head.”

  Fine. I get it. In ways, Vlad has been vetting Toby to see where Toby’s been, and if he’s been working alone. ‘Til now, Vlad’s been patient and vigilant. Now that he’s convinced Toby’s threats are empty, he’ll handle the idiot accordingly.

  Fucking Russians.

  “He comes near her again, I won’t have a mind to what we’ve agreed on here.”

  Vlad’s smile is malicious in nature and cold to the bone. He shakes his head and looks down.

  “My business is nearing its end,” he expresses assumingly. “Only a few more rats to flush from the sewers, but once they’ve eaten their poison, Mia Zanders will be off your hands.”

  “She hasn’t been a problem,” I decree, mostly true. She is a pain in the ass, but not a problem.

  “And what of Arrows?” Vlad queries, his rich Russian accent thick. “Are they still threatening an uprise against you?”

  An uprise? No.

  Clubs don’t fight in the way mob men do. There’s no subtle chaos to gain power, no quiet struggle for territory. It’s still about blood, honor, and pride, sure. But the way our families go about getting these, are vastly different.

  “Had a meet with Bynes. I don’t have a good feelin’.”

  “Your instincts are probably correct,” he counters.

  “Arrows and Saint’s have history. But it hasn’t always been the bad sort,” I explain.

  “The last we spoke, there were complications with this history,” he points out, meaning Cricket.

  “Yes. And those have yet to be resolved.”

  Vlad gives off a sardonic laugh. “Unless you’ve neutralized any and all potential enemies, nothing will be resolved.”

  “We’ll deal with that when the time is right.”

  “What about the woman?” Vlad queries. “The girl you took from them.”

  “She stays with us.”

  “And what will you do with Michael Shivagon?” Vlad counters.

  I don’t recall the name from memory, so I press, “Michael Shivagon?”

  “The man others call ‘Tyrant’,” he claims, stating the name as if the word itself is acrid.

  “Tyrant’s only a threat to himself. But we’ve got him.”

  “You’re holding him hostage,” Vlad guesses, his tone appreciative not surprise.

  Fucking Russians.

  “He’s injured. Badly. Right now, we’re keeping him from Cricket’s dad. He’s scared and trying to get clean.”

  “And you’re helping him with this?”

  “He’s been a good asset in the past. He informs for us. Tells us about Cricket’s old man. Where he’s at, what he’s doing…”

  “Be careful of your enemies, Elevent,” Vlad warns, his tone unforgiving. “In that I mean, watch this Tyrant carefully until he proves he’s not an immediate threat.”

  “I get it.”

  Vlad nods. “And Mia?” he questions next. “Once she’s free to go, I expect she’ll return to her sister.”

  “That’ll be her decision,” I tell him.

  “Her decision,” Abram mocks, crossing his hands over his chest, looking down to his shoes, and smirking.

  All heads turn to the door. Rueon stands inside the jamb, flustered and annoyed.

  “What is it?” Vlad implores.

  “The girls are gettin’ anxious,” Rueon shares. “One or two of them I can handle, but they’ve all congregated to the game room. I’m not going back in there alone.”

  Vlad sighs, clearly bothered by this distraction. “We’ve finished here. Elevent is free to take Mia home.”

  Home.

  The word settles in my gut. Abram exams my reaction, letting out a single syllable laugh at my expense before following Rueon to the door.

  “A piece of advice,” Vlad insists, and I turn my gaze to his.

  “What’s that?”

  “There is no safer place for a man to find himself than buried inside a beautiful woman’s heart.”

  Christ, not this. Not from Vlad. Another man who fell for a woman and developed thoughts and feelings, which should remain his own.

  Vlad takes my silence as permission to continue. “Mia Zanders will soon officially be part of this family. As such, if you harm my family in anyway, whether you’ve done this favor for me or not, you won’t be doing business with anyone in this city again.”

  My jaw clenches and I don’t reply. I’m not an idiot. I know my place. Not taking the Russian’s threats to heart would be a colossal mistake. One I can’t afford to make.

  “I appreciate you looking out for her,” I tell him.

  “Glad to hear that,” he returns.

  “But after this is done, that’ll be on me to do.”

  Taking my meaning for what it is, he replies, “Glad to hear that too.”

  I don’t answer his smug smile. Instead, I keep my focus, moving to the door in order to take Mia home.

  Fucking Russians.

  “I knew it was going to take a woman like you to sort Elevent out,” Wren claims, grabbing another card and tossing it on top of the discard pile. “I just didn’t think he’d get sorted this fast.”

  When we arrived at the Zalesky mansion, Rueon met us at the door. He was immediately taken aback. He wasn’t ready for all of us and certainly not all at once. Shortly after introducing himself to the others, he escorted Lane, Sunny, Cricket, and me to a game room where we met up with Klara and Wren.

  Myra took a long weekend away with Veni so she wasn’t waiting with the others.

  Once Rueon got us settled in, he explained the men needed to talk business, and he’d see to us until they were done.

  He’s been in and out of here a few times since, but always making a hasty exit.

  The lavish game room we’re sitting in has a green velvet pool table, an electronic dartboard, a full bar, and a poker table.

  After we all said our hellos, Wren walked to a cabinet full of expensive liquor and pulled out a stack of UNO cards.

  Myra and I used to play as kids. We’d challenge one another to the point of tears, fighting until an official winner was declared.

  “Draw Four,” Klara charges with a wide smile as she looks to Sunny, sitting at her left. “And drink up!”

  The adult version of this game is far more fun than when Myra and I played in our grandmother’s basement.

  Sunny smiles, reaching for the full shot glass in front of her. She disregards the salt and lime on the plate at its side, winking at me before emptying the tequila.

  “What do you mean, sort Elevent out?” I prod.

  “Elevent’s the president of Saint’s,” she states offhandedly. “The guys have his back, of course. But as far as I know, he’s never had a woman taking his.”

  My gaze flips to Lane. She’s looking down, studying the multitude of cards in her hands. Wren’s claim had to hurt, but Lane’s not revealing its ache.

  Annoyed at Wren’s misconc
eption, I give, “I’m not taking anything for Elevent.”

  “Yes, you are,” Lane charges, smiling coyly.

  After she and I talked about her relationship with Elevent, which is to say it is no more, she and I have settled into a casual friendship. I actually kind of like her. At the very least, I understand her position.

  In short, I was wrong about her too.

  “Vlad used to be the same way,” Klara chimes in at my side, rearranging the cards in her hand. “Only I had to endure years of irritation because I’ve known him since I was five.”

  This I knew, but still find hard to believe.

  “Your childhood must have been scary,” I note. “I’m twenty-five and your husband is still the scariest man I’ve ever met.”

  “Growing up, he was terrifying,” Klara marks, releasing an impromptu and overly dramatic body shiver. “But, even then, I admired him. And he scared me to death.”

  Wren giggles.

  Klara looks to Wren, her expression serious. “But then I fell in love with Vlad. And for years, he wanted nothing to do with me. Nothing. It took a while before I wore him down.”

  A callous, cold laugh breaks from my chest, but I’m the only one laughing.

  Klara’s eyes flip to mine. She looks hurt so I pedal back. “I don’t know how you could’ve worn Vlad down. He’s kind of—”

  “Bossy?” Wren asserts.

  “He is that,” Klara agrees, dreamy-eyed. “But he’d cut off his own arm to never hurt me.”

  I’ve seen the two together. But briefly.

  I quickly deduced that Klara is the calm to Vlad’s storm. The resting anchor to his ever-raging sea. After getting to know her better, I’m thankful she has that. And after the interest he’s taken to ensure I’ve been kept safe, I’m glad he has this too.

  “Vlad’s brand of intensity is hot,” Sunny puts in.

  “Yep,” Klara agrees, tossing down another card, leaving only two in her hand. She looks at me, stating, “I recognized it the first time I saw Elevent; he wasn’t much different.”

  “How’s that?” I question, taking my turn.

  Klara sighs. “Elevent is protective, but for good reason.” Her finger points around the table. “What the men do isn’t safe for those they love.”

  “Well, Mia’s not scared of anything to do with Elevent,” Sunny puts in, and all heads turn my way. “She’s claimed him.”

  “Sunny!” I punish.

  “Draw four, honey,” she returns, wearing a snobby smirk and pointing to the card she laid down. Reaching to her side, she grabs a shot glass and slides it my way. “And have a drink.”

  “She has,” Cricket agrees. “Totally freaking bizarre the way he is with her.”

  “Can we stop talking about this?” I clip.

  Wren smiles wide, too wide. The goddamn cat who ate the canary smiled less. I’m sure of it.

  “Do you love him?” Wren questions and I narrow my eyes.

  Not only is the question personal, but to ask this in front of others—I’m a little surprised.

  “I like how things are right now,” I tell her. “If that’s what you mean.”

  “Does Elevent love you?” she shoves in next.

  “I don’t know,” I return, suspicious of her insistence.

  Sunny clears her throat, eyes to mine with apprehension.

  “Love or not, Elevent is still super hot, right?” Wren baits. “Give us that at least.”

  What in the world?

  Sunny’s foot taps mine beneath the table.

  Manners force me to answer Wren, but I do this vaguely. “Elevent is hot.”

  Not giving in, Wren probes quickly, “Super hot?”

  “Are we really talking about this?” I force out.

  Klara giggles. Lane smiles. Wren laughs. Cricket stares, wide-eyed. Sunny again nudges my foot.

  “We’re just chattin’. Girl talk,” Wren claims, feigning innocence.

  With nothing for it, I grab the shot Sunny set at my side, put it to my mouth and take it back.

  Slamming the empty glass on the table, I wince as the burn of the alcohol fills my stomach.

  Giving in, I let loose, “Elevent’s hot. Super hot.”

  “I knew it,” Wren decrees.

  Giving more, I add, “So hot that whenever he’s around, I know he’s there and not because I can see him, but because my body senses he’s close.”

  “Honey,” Cricket whispers, shaking her head. “Maybe no more tequila.”

  Lane smiles wide. Wren’s eyes grow to saucers. Klara sighs and Sunny laughs.

  “And he’s an ace with his hands,” I go on. “He does this thing with his fingers…”

  All dancing eyes direct just over my left shoulder.

  When large, tatted arms cage my chair from behind, Elevent’s whisper hits my ear. “Your body senses I’m around?”

  Shit.

  “And I’m an ace with my hands?”

  Fuck.

  “I hate you all,” I hiss, staring at the table, unable to look my friends in the eye.

  “Fuck, don’t stop, Angel. What’s this about my fingers?” he keeps going.

  “You’re all going to hell,” I note, finally looking up to find my friends outright laughing.

  Reaching between my back and the chair, Elevent grabs hold of my waist and all but plucks me from where I sit.

  As he drags me to the door, he calls back to the others, “Truck’s leavin’ in five. You all can stay or go. Don’t care. But Angel’s going home.”

  Home.

  As I’m being pulled down the hallway, I hear the girls laughing—then someone claps.

  Traitorous bitches.

  It’s dark.

  Elevent and I are standing on the balcony of his room, staring into the large mass of partygoers in the open field behind the clubhouse. A few bonfires have been lit, dancing flames lighting up the area around them. The air is cool, but not cold. This far up, all is quiet.

  “I like this dress,” Elevent notes, coming to stand at my back. He sets his bottle of beer down on the iron rail and says, “I’ll like it a fuck of a lot more when it’s up around your waist.”

  My face flushes. I’m still not used to his crass way of asking for me. I hope I never am, as this is a part of us I’ve come to love.

  Earlier, I’d been out here alone, contently overlooking the crowd of people below. Pyke had been sitting with Ziah on a picnic table. Lane, Cricket, and Sunny were gathered on another in the middle of the open area.

  Sty, Leglas, and even Gypsy are huddled together around a table full of unlit fireworks.

  Elevent’s lips brush my shoulder, trailing slowly to my back. He kisses then sucks the sensitive spot behind my ear. A shiver of anticipation slices my core, but I fight to hold my ground.

  When his touch becomes aggressive, I tilt my head, granting more access.

  “Aren’t fireworks against the law?” I ask to hold him off. “I don’t think you’re allowed to shoot fireworks here.”

  Elevent doesn’t lend a response. Instead, the hem of my dress rises from the knee, as the warmth of his fingertips leaves a burning trail with every inch.

  “See you’re gonna play this out,” he observes.

  He’s right. Elevent tests my patience all the time. I’m taking my turn.

  “Aren’t you nervous about what happened before?” I query, being honest. “Leglas and Gypsy still haven’t made friends. But there they are—together. And just to say, they’re surrounded by bullets. This can’t be a good scenario.”

  Elevent lifts the hem of my dress further, until it’s around my waist. Slowly, I close my eyes as he slips his hands inside my panties, continuing down until he finds what he’s after.

  My concentrated effort prevails. I lay my head against his chest and manage to bring together, “Shouldn’t Ziah have a helmet on if he’s playing football?”

  Elevent ignores my inquisition, using the tips of his fingers to manipulate. He gets out a hoarse demand
of, “Open for me, Angel,” and my will bends, forcing me to comply. He circles my clit once then again, only adding pressure on the next pass.

  My breath hitches when he slides a finger inside and I spread my legs in reaction.

  “Good girl,” he whispers. “Fuck, you’re ready.”

  The threat of my undoing is close, but I manage to hold myself together.

  “It’s rude, we’re up here,” I complain, audibly out of breath. “We should be out there with everyone else.”

  Elevent adds another finger. He uses his thumb against my clit and I gasp, grabbing his wrist to hold myself steady.

  “Want me to fill you?” he asks, his voice low and raspy.

  I shake my head no. To this, Elevent’s other hand starts at my neck, driving down into the front of my dress. Roughly shoving my bra aside, he massages my nipple. Delicious pain echoes in my whimpering moan.

  “The fuck you don’t,” he accuses. “If you felt what I was feelin’, you’d stop askin’ so many fuckin’ questions.”

  “What do you feel?” I query back, my charade holding—but barely.

  “I think you like being up here,” he accuses. “You wanna be fucked in front of an audience.”

  In all honesty, I don’t mind being up here, on view for others to see. Not that they could. We’re high enough from the ground they’d need night vision to get their view. But being here alone, yet in a crowd of people, Elevent’s hands are all but branding me.

  My body’s reaction gives that he’s right.

  The hand at my chest disappears, moving behind my back. The one between my legs holds steady but doesn’t move. Elevent’s zipper draws down, and without a care, my hips jut, my ass pushing against what he’s doing.

  Elevent’s thumbs hook to either side of my hips, tearing down my panties in one quick motion. I step out and he tosses them away.

  “Offer yourself to me,” he orders.

  Elevent gives me room, stepping back so I’m able to do as he asked. I bend my waist, ever so slightly. My legs burn as I stand on my toes, granting him access.

  “Grab the rails,” he clips, bunching my dress in a fisted hand.

  A sharp slaps hits the fevered skin of my ass. My body jolts at the same time Elevent slides inside. Hooking an arm around my waist and using his other hand at my shoulder, he pounds into me with all he has.

 

‹ Prev