After weeks of radio silence, I would be damned to admit out loud how much he affected me, much less ask him for my carbon-copies. He would give them back to me willingly. I’d make sure of it. This intense game we were playing—of pushing each other’s buttons—made me feel more alive than I ever had before.
I probably should have just taken a cash advance on his card—after I reported that it’d been lost and they mailed a new one to the hotel—and skipped town. But I couldn’t very well leave without my blackmail in tow. And the truth was, I wasn’t done with Declan. I wanted, needed, to know more about him.
Even so, I wasn’t expecting was the knock at the door after I sent him a selfie. A phone call would have sufficed. I got the impression Declan preferred to make house calls instead of picking up a phone. The intimidation-factor was much higher when he could do his imposing stance. His voice may be sexy-as-hell, but it didn’t have the same effect as being in his sheer presence.
Armed with the dagger, I cautiously approached the door. I wouldn’t put it past Declan to send the police after me. I mean, he had so dramatically pointed out that he owned everyone in town—except me. I would not be putty in his hand like everyone else.
As I approached the door, my heart raced uncontrollably. I small part of me was excited to see him, just as I was freaking-out, scared, thrilled, pissed and overwhelmed by the biggest adrenaline rush that awakened my body knowing Declan was near.
I opened the door. No one was there. When I stepped out to look down the hallway, I tripped over a newspaper. A hotel staff person was delivering papers to each door like always. I grabbed the paper and slammed the door behind me.
Mother fuc—I’d kill to know what he was feeling right now!
Plopping back on the bed, I flipped open the paper. At least the front page news was interesting. Stilts v. Jones was the headliner article. I read the article for further details. Apparently Declan had instigated a bar fight the night I sent him the picture. They decided to settle it in the ring instead of a court house. The fight was scheduled for next Friday.
“I guess I’ll have to find something modest to wear.”
The most expensive seat in the house was reserved for Piper. I was so politely informed of her R.S.V.P via purchase alert. So I fully expected to see her smirk Friday night. But her seat was vacant! I swore to myself that if she didn’t show I was going to her hotel tonight and end this one way or another.
Minutes before the match started Piper finally showed dressed to the nine’s in a midnight blue dress that matched her eyes perfectly. From the rink’s corner, I stood still, watching her make her decent to the front row. The noise drowned out to the drum of my heartbeat. The dress was lightweight, showcasing her trim frame—by no means was it a showstopper, skin-tight dress that demanded everyone’s attention. But, she caught my interest. Her light brown hair cast over her dainty little shoulders that only made her appear breakable—not like the untamable women I’d berated in the hotel room. What sparked my irrational desire to tear off the designer dress and push her to the edge of her breaking point was when she smirked upon catching me drooling over her.
I slammed my fist into the corner post. She was the demon. She was the devil in disguise. She was the manipulative monster. But what truly set me off was that she was in control of this battle of the wills that we were fighting! I wasn’t used to defeat. I wasn’t used to fighting a valiant opponent like Piper.
If her grand entrance wasn’t enough, Piper crossed her leg over the other, exposing much of her thigh that tempted me to take what was mine. Fanning herself with a piece of paper, she raised her eyebrow and whistled to herself. I swear she did it on purpose, pushing her lips at me like she wanted to do more than just whistle. Even through the screaming crowd, I swore I heard the faint melody, its sound enticing me. I narrowed my eyes. The rage boiling through me was going to make tonight’s match end quickly with a KO. Fast money would be made on bets tonight. I just hoped it satisfied the agitation boiling inside me. Piper’s presence wasn’t helping calm me down. But she was seriously pushing me over the edge when she wiggled her little finger at me.
She did not just beckon me! I wasn’t on her beck-and-call. I would not go to her.
I sat in the metal folding chair and stared at my opponent. My cheek still burned from the lucky punch he got in last week. That he was able to land a hit ticked me off about as much as that pointless necklace…that necklace that was tight against her skin. And just like that she had my attention again. She shrugged her shoulders and unfolded the paper. I immediately recognized it as a gambling ticket for tonight’s fight.
“Fifty thousand on Jones?”
Declan’s chest heaved after he tore the ticket from my hands. His face deadpanned upon reading the details of the first bet I’d ever made. Like I said, I wasn’t a gambling girl. But to get back what was rightfully mine, I’d spend all of his money. Declan crumpled the ticket his in fist and threw it down at me. It landed by my heels. I didn’t bother to pick it up, hoping he got the message that I didn’t care about any of his money. I’d come here to get my hands on what was mine—my carbon-copies and then sit tight till my twenty-first birthday when the trust became mine. I only had a few days left until then anyways, and I wanted those carbon-copies back in case my mother tried to claim the funds as hers.
Standing up, I closed the gap between us. I could feel everyone’s eyes on us as their camera’s snapped our picture; their screams rang in my ears. With as much of a media presence we were getting, you’d think that our fight was tonight’s highlight match.
I stepped close enough to feel heat radiating off of his body. Last time I stood this close to him, I stared death in the face and smiled. Tonight was no different. If he wanted to screw with me, I’d play the game.
“Your two-bit trust doesn’t equate to this wager,” he said.
“How do you know?”
“I did my homework on you Piper, I know everything about you,” he sneered.
I laughed. “You. Know. Nothing. Not if you think any of this is about money.”
He tightened his fists. “What’s it about then?”
“Freedom.”
He cocked his head to the side. His face was vacant, shielding his true feelings. “What if I don’t want to be free of you?”
An official came up to him before I could reply. “It’s time.”
I grabbed Declan’s arm. He flexed his arm like it was everything he could do not to fight me. That he respected me enough to hear me out meant a lot.
I said, “You have a decision to make. Win and lose a fortune, or lose and—”
“—Win you?”
“I’m not a prize to be claimed, Declan.”
He turned his back away from me so I couldn’t see the truth burning in his eyes, but I saw it all the same. I mattered to him. I mattered greatly. Declan loved...well, cared for me anyways. Calling this attraction love was a little pre-mature, but the thought tugged at my heart. What we had was unconventional. It was dangerous and unpredictable. But it was honest, and I loved that about us.
We didn’t get to pick who we fell for. Sometimes they were Mr. Right’s. Sometimes they were Prince-Charming’s. And sometimes they were the vilest of men.
The official pulled Declan into the middle of the rink. In one swift movement, Declan removed his shirt. I forgot how to breathe as I took in the athletic splendor that was him. My jaw damn near hit the floor as I zeroed in on his chest—his chest that was the fantasy of so many women. I finally understood what it meant to #declandaydream. The magazines had not done him justice! Every core muscle flexed as he walked center-stage. His arm and shoulder bulged when he shook Jones’ hand. His entire body moved in sync, like a machine. My mouth dried. The human body could be very stunning and magnificent in action, but after the announcer introduced the two fighters, Declan moved with angelic precision. Each hit, each kick, each hold was jaw-dropping…and I could tell he was holding back. I’d seen him move more s
wiftly in the hotel room. He was toying with his adversary.
Round One ended. As soon as the bell echoed, his gaze found mine. I’d thought I’d stared death in the face before. I was wrong. The hatred churning behind those eyes was immeasurable, but matched with that hate was undeniable passion. Declan hated me. And he desired me. I was right. He was toying with his adversary; I just didn’t know if it was the other fighter or me.
Instead of plucking rose petals, playing He-Loves-Me-Not he used his fist to pound down his opponent; each time he let Jones land a punch, I knew Declan was fighting an inner turmoil. Lose a million and win.
In the third round, the crowd leaped from their seats when Declan gave the final blow, knocking out his opponent. As soon as Jones’ body fell limply to the mat, Declan looked over at me. The referee grabbed Declan’s wrist and raised it up in the air. His dark eyes narrowed as I stood and clapped politely for him. He had won, and it only cost him a cool mil. Ripping out his mouth piece, he approached his bag. He ripped an envelope from it and then strode over to me with determination. Even though he was covered in bruises and dripping with sweat, he moved with certainty. When he was just a few feet away, he cast the envelope to my shoes, slipped his hands on either side of my face and pulled me against his hot body.
He stole a kiss. He coaxed a moan from my throat. He silenced my non-verbal protests as his hot body moved against mine. When his lips collided with mine, passion between us erupted. Our kiss was a statement of our entire relationship. Dirty and addictive. I wanted him—craved him like he was a drug. He was dangerous, manipulative, and still the most striking man I’d ever set eyes on. He held me tight. It was like I was molded just for him to take. Moving his hand to the small of my back, he pressed me up against him. He moaned when I brought my hands up through his hair. His grasp tightened as he consumed my kiss.
When I tugged on his hair, pulling him closer against me, he suddenly released me. I knew it was the last thing he wanted to do, but his stare was apocalyptic and his stance was rigid. He was teetering on the edge of control.
He swore, “Whatever the cost, you’ll be mine.”
Without a second glance, he turned around and left me gasping for air. I watched him slowly disappear into the cheering crowd. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. Only then did I pick up the envelope and look inside. My father’s death certificate—how and why Declan had given me that piece of material was unknown. Along with it were the carbon-copies from my mother’s fraudulent business transactions.
I chose Piper before she was born. I’d long since claimed her as mine. Even as the hunger erupted inside of me, I could still hear her faint whistling ringing in my ears. Raw desire churned in me; I wanted her just as much as I wanted all the money in the house. I was almost out of control; tonight would end with a body bag—that much I knew. I showered and changed as quickly as I could.
I couldn’t fucking do it—not now. Not after I’d fallen for her. To pass this curse on to her, thus freeing myself of it, even I couldn’t bear it. I may not be the man I was before I became an Incubus, but a shred of my old self still survived the corruption.
And Goddamn it, I’d just lost a small fortune by winning that fight—and I’d do it all over again, but it still didn’t calm the demonic side of me. I needed to feed. The starvation in me was going to make me lose my mind.
Bad.
I stumbled onto the main floor of Mirage and found my way to the high-rollers table. I just needed to get a pair of dice in my hands and feed off of the greed around me.
My phone rang. Piper’s number showed up on the screen. I silenced it. More than anything else in the world, I wanted to go to her—be with her, but it would end with a trip to the morgue if I didn’t feed first. I wanted her uncontrollably; and I couldn’t chance her. I’d never gamble away her affection. Never. I couldn’t bear it.
I sat down at the first available roulette table when my phone rang again. “Dammit, Piper!”
I pulled it out and was immediately told that phones were not permitted on the grounds. I silenced the phone again, gripped the table, clenched my teeth, and then placed a grand on twelve red. I watched the little white ball roll around the wheel.
Of course my damn phone rang as soon as it fell on my number. I ripped the phone from my pocket. “What Piper?”
“Hello Declan. I believe you have something I want.”
As soon as her shrill voice came over the speaker, I lost all connection with my human side. “It’s been far too long, Emilie.”
As soon as I closed my hotel room door behind me, a barrel of a gun was pressed to my head. I turned around to find Jameson at the other end and my mother standing right next to him.
Effing Perfect.
“What do you want?” I asked as calmly as anyone would with a red dot on their forehead.
My mother walked up to me. “You have something I need.”
I clenched the envelope, anticipating her to snatch away the only proof I had on her. She’d do anything to try to screw me over from my trust fund. So when she went for my purse, I was confused. As much as it pained me to let her claw through my things, there was a gun pointed at me, so I had no choice. She dug out my phone along with the dagger.
Emilie said, “I figured the best way to keep tabs on Rumpelstiltskin would be to keep tabs on you. I wasn’t wrong.”
“What are you talking about?”
Ignoring my question, she turned her back to me and dialed the only number in the call list. “Hello Declan.”
I took a step toward my mother when Jameson spoke up. “I’d think really carefully about what you plan to do and say next. Rumpelstiltskin isn’t the man you think he is.”
“And what is that? And why are you calling him that?”
“Rumpelstiltskin is his true name, and Incubus is his true nature.” Jameson lowered his gun and exchanged a look with dear old Mom. “He feeds off of humans. Most end up in body bags. The lucky ones are left just exhausted. He fends off his own death by stealing our essence. He’s probably fed off of you…”
Whatever lesson Jameson was set on giving me, I only heard half of it. This was all too messed up. I couldn’t believe this to be true.
“…he’s connected to the dagger somehow. It’s the only way to kill him. And if he needs to keep track of someone, he offers it to them,” my mother said. “It’s cursed.”
Dazed, I looked up at her. I didn’t know how long she’d been talking. It didn’t matter. “Wait. You gave me the dagger! You wanted him to find me?”
“He wants you, Piper. Not me. It’s always been about you.” My mother patted the seat on the edge of the bed beside her. “It’s why I’ve always been so distant to you. I was afraid to love you. He’s killed many people to hurt me, including your father.”
It took every power in my being not to bust down the hotel door the moment I got to room 901. Instead, I did my best to reign in the brimming fury inside of me and wait. I had to know what they knew.
“Declan killed my father?”
Piper’s voice cut through me like a knife. I couldn’t stand to hear the hurt in her and not do anything, especially since it was a lie! I let myself into the room, ascertaining the potential threats: Emilie and Jameson. But all I truly cared for was the young woman standing in front of me. The look of betrayal was written all over her face. It killed me.
“Piper,” I spoke her name as if it meant the millions of things that refused to leave my tongue.
“You lied,” Piper said, inching closer to her vindictive mother who was sitting on the bed.
“Not to you,” I replied.
Piper didn’t look like she believed me. But now wasn’t the time to convince her otherwise, not with all the damning evidence against me. A red dot tracked onto my chest. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jameson aim the gun at me.
I said, “You know that can’t kill me.”
“It’ll slow you down,” he sneered.
Not enough. I clenched my
jaw to keep from admitting that little nugget of information. As difficult as it was to reign in my persistent urge to end that moron’s life, I let him live. His life was irrelevant. I turned my attention back to the only person in the room that held any significance to me whatsoever. Piper was that person to me. When I was busy meddling with her fate, she’d changed my destiny forever.
I’d altered her life the second I knew of her existence. The choices that weren’t random. She was seemingly insignificant at first. However, the cascading results from that one agreement I made with Emilie twenty years ago changed my life. I craved freedom—freedom from the curse that ruled me. I planned on finding freedom with Piper, but instead I became enslaved to my feelings for her. That inalienable truth tormented what was left of my soul. I was forever changed because of her.
“You’re a monster,” Piper whispered and waited for me to deny it. When I didn’t, a tear fled her beautiful blue eye and glistened over the few freckles on her cheek.
I clenched my teeth together. I hadn’t lied to her yet. I wasn’t about to start now. “I’m not the only monster in his room, Piper. I assure that of you.”
I’d give away all the money in the world to hold her in my arms, to taste her sweet kiss, for her to be truly mine… But if she taught me anything, it was that all the gold couldn’t buy her love. Not after she stole my rotten heart.
“You’re truly in love with her.” Emilie stared at me like I’d just unveiled my darkest secret when I looked at Piper.
I yelled, “Stay out of this Emilie. I’m warning you!”
“You’re a killer,” Piper said, still in disbelief.
“Not your father’s,” I said. “He’s very much alive and well.”
“Enough.” Emilie stood quickly and pressed the dagger against her daughter’s throat.
Priceless (Once Wicked #1) Page 4