by I. T. Lucas
Brundar looked surprised, but in a good way. “Will it take long?”
Good. He wasn’t going home to anyone. “Not at all. I’m a devil in the kitchen.”
She expected some witty comeback, but there was none. Instead, he pulled out a stool and sat down on the other side of the kitchen counter.
“I guess that means you accept.”
He nodded.
“Do you like Mexican?”
He shrugged.
“I guess it’s a yes.” Callie wondered if that how all their conversation were going to be—with her talking and him either nodding or shrugging or grunting in response.
After rinsing the vegetables, she pulled out a cutting board and started chopping onions and bell peppers. “So what exactly am I going to do at the club?”
“Serve drinks.”
“Yeah, you said that before. But I couldn’t help wondering which portion of the club I will be serving the drinks in. The upstairs or the downstairs?”
“Upstairs. I’m not letting you inside the kink club.”
Callie paused mid chopping. “Why?”
“You’re too young.”
She put a hand on her hip. “I’m twenty-one.”
“You need to be twenty-eight.”
“Since when? My friend Dawn is only a year older, and she was allowed in.”
“It was a recent change.”
“Why?”
“To prevent kids with fake identification from getting in. It’s harder to fake being twenty-eight than twenty-one.”
“But I’m not going in as a participant. As an employee I’ll need to provide my social security number, and you can easily verify my age.”
Brundar cast her a hard look. “You’re not working down there. End of story.”
He was such a freaking chauvinist.
Swallowing the arguments that were on the tip of her tongue, she pulled out a skillet and put it on the stove. The man was helping her out of the goodness of his heart. Arguing the terms of that help would be the epitome of ungratefulness.
“What made you come to the club in the first place?” he asked.
Callie felt the blush creep up her cheeks. “I was curious.”
Brundar arched a brow. “I remember you telling me that it was your idea, not your husband’s.”
She turned around, adding oil to the skillet. “He didn’t want to go. I convinced him to.”
“That’s unusual for first timers.”
Callie dropped a package of beef strips into the skillet, the sizzling meat filling the small kitchen with an appetizing smell as she stirred them around with a wooden spoon.
“Let me ask you something.” She turned to Brundar. “How can I tell the difference between a bully and a dominant?”
His stoic expression revealed nothing. “Respect and consent.”
He was driving her crazy with those one- or two-word answers. “Can you please elaborate? Give examples?”
Brundar rubbed a hand over his clean-shaven jaw. “A bully demands your obedience and submission. He thinks of it as his right and doesn’t care what you want.”
That was a little better, but it still left a lot of questions unanswered. Brundar was like a web browser. She had to ask precise questions to get relevant answers from him. He didn’t extrapolate what else he could tell her, or answer questions she didn’t know to ask.
“Okay, so if I understand it correctly, a dominant asks for my permission and cares for what I want. Isn’t that what any normal guy should do?”
“Yes.”
Ugh. He was so frustrating.
“That doesn’t tell me anything.”
If she had a sliver of hope that Brundar might be interested in her, his cold and detached tone made it clear he wasn’t.
“Your meat is burning.”
“What?”
He pointed at the stovetop behind her.
She’d forgotten all about the skillet. Snatching it off the burner, Callie tossed the smoking strips around. “I hope you don’t mind well-done bordering on charred.” She speared a piece on a fork and tasted it. “Still good.”
“Smells fine.”
Was he being nice? Not likely. Brundar probably found the smell appetizing. Otherwise he wouldn’t have said anything.
Callie added the chopped vegetables to the skillet. “I guess I’ll have to come to the club and observe how it works. You’re not telling me much.”
“You can read about it.”
“Yeah, I did. But the problem with that is that I don’t know how much of it is true.”
Brundar pinned her with a hard stare. “Tell me what prompted you to come to the club.”
Gah. She’d never talked about it with anyone but Dawn, and even then it was half-jokingly.
“I’m not into pain.” She wanted to make that clear. “I’m not a masochist. But dominance excites me. Always had. Ever since I started having naughty thoughts.” She turned around and got busy with the wooden spoon, stirring fajita sauce into the meat and vegetable mixture.
“A lot of females are excited by it. It’s not unusual.”
“I guess.”
Maybe not. But she was willing to bet that most of those women enjoyed purely vanilla sex as well.
She didn’t.
Unless she added a fantasy of dominance to the act, she didn’t get aroused, let alone reach a climax. It didn’t have to be anything extreme. Imagining her arms held over her head, or a little erotic spanking would do the trick.
The images her brain conjured up had the expected effect, especially since her fantasy dominant was replaced by the very real Brundar who was sitting no more than four feet away from her.
Her curiosity be damned, this conversation had to end, or she would be forced to excuse herself and make a dash for the bathroom. Callie turned her back to Brundar and got busy with the skillet.
Chapter 21: Brundar
She was killing him.
Whatever Calypso was imagining, it was exciting her—the scent of her arousal was overpowering that of the cooking meat.
Was she thinking of him?
Gazing at her shapely ass encased in those tight-fitting jeans, Brundar’s own imagination went to work. He would walk up to her and clasp her wrists so she couldn’t touch him and. With her arms twisted behind her back, her ample breasts would get pushed forward, and he would cup one, then the other, tweaking her nipples through her bra as he kissed her neck. She would melt into him and beg him to take her to bed…
To master her…
Brundar closed his eyes. Not going to happen. He was already too emotionally entangled to risk the intimacy of a scene. The only way to stay detached was to engage with partners who weren’t seeking an exclusive playmate.
That wasn’t Calypso. He didn’t know her well, but a girl who’d married the first guy she’d had sex with wasn’t the type to do casual.
She needed guidance, though. Without it she could fall prey to another jerk like her soon to be ex-husband. The club was a safe place for her to dip her toes. The problem was that he couldn’t stomach letting anyone else show her the ropes, literally speaking, and he couldn’t do it himself.
“It’s ready,” she announced with fake cheer as she placed a plate of sizzling fajitas in front of him. “Would you like a beer?”
He shook his head. “Water will do.” To an immortal, the Hawaiian beer she’d bought would taste like piss water.
She poured him a cup. “Ice?”
“No.”
Calypso put a much smaller portion on her own plate and sat next to him. “Dig in.” She grabbed one of the warmed tortillas and heaped some of the mixture onto it, then added a tablespoon of ready-made salsa.
Brundar followed her lead. A home cooked meal was a novelty for him. He and Anandur ate out except for the rare occasions they mooched off Okidu’s cooking.
Taking a bite, he wasn’t expecting it to taste as good as it did.
“How is it?” Calypso asked.
/> “Good.”
She chuckled. “You sound surprised.”
Brundar wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I’m not used to home cooking. I didn’t know what to expect.”
“Do you live alone?”
“No.”
“Oh.” She sounded disappointed.
“I live with my brother.”
“Oh.” The 'oh' sounded peppier. Had she been asking to find out if he had a girlfriend?
Finishing one tortilla, he reached for another. Calypso smiled. So he ate a third and a fourth.
“You were hungry.” She collected his plate and took it to the sink.
“I wasn’t. But it was really good.”
His words brought a bright smile to her beautiful face. A stuffed to bursting stomach was worth the sacrifice.
Calypso finished washing the dishes and wiped her hands with a paper towel. “Ready to go?”
“Yes.” No. He wanted to stay and have her all to himself, even if it was only to talk or watch a movie on the television. It didn’t really matter what.
But that was another lie. What he wanted was to take her to the bedroom, tie her to the bedposts, and show her pleasure like she hadn’t known before.
“By the way. What do you suggest I do with the cash? I don’t want to carry it with me, but I’m afraid of leaving it here.”
“You can use the safe in the club.”
She looked unsure.
“Or I can help you find a good hiding spot right here.”
She fiddled with the dishrag. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. I do. But I want access to it whenever I need it.”
“Understood. Give me the money.”
She went into the bedroom and returned with her satchel. Taking out the bundles of hundreds, she put them one by one on the counter.
Brundar opened the Ziploc box they’d bought and pulled out several bags. Wrapping each bundle in paper towels, he stuffed it inside a Ziploc, closed it, and stuffed it inside another one. When all were done, he opened the freezer and put everything on the bottom of the ice cube compartment, then piled the ice on top of the bags.
“It will do for now. I’ll get you a safe tomorrow and install it for you.”
She eyed the freezer. “That’s clever. No one would think to look under the ice cubes.”
He wasn’t so sure of that. But he trusted the building’s security system to prevent anyone from getting in and looking. “It’s a temporary solution. Let’s go.”
She followed him out and locked the door behind them.
“Are we taking your car or walking?”
“We’re walking. I want to show you how close it is.”
The walk would do them both good, cooling some of the heat that had been generated in Calypso’s kitchen. What he hadn’t counted on, however, was how awkward the short walk to the club would be.
As they strode in silence, Brundar had the strange impulse to wrap his arm around her shoulders, but then she would wrap hers around his middle like he’d seen other couples do, and he wouldn’t like it.
Except, what if he did?
Better not to test it. He’d lived with his limitations for hundreds of years and managed just fine. There was no need to change a thing.
As it was, the girl had done enough damage already.
A master fighter like him needed to exist in the zone, which was impossible when feelings were battering against the walls he’d built around his psyche. Calypso was dangerous to him.
His Achilles heel.
Chapter 22: Kian
Robert’s heavy footsteps announced his arrival long before the guy knocked on the glass doors of Kian’s office.
“Come in, Robert.”
He walked in with a newspaper tucked under his arm.
Apparently, Robert still preferred the old fashioned way of reading the news, as did Kian. But he had a feeling Robert preferred if for other reasons—like using it as a shield when relaxing in the downstairs coffee shop. Reading news on a smartphone wasn’t as effective in that capacity.
“I thought you’d find this interesting.” Robert put the newspaper in front of him. A story about a new string of murders was circled with a red sharpie.
Frowning, Kian speed read the article.
Over the past week, five women had been found dead. They’d bled to death from twin atrial puncture wounds to the neck. There were no signs of struggle, and autopsies revealed no drugs or high levels of alcohol in four out of the five. The similarities had the authorities suspecting that the murders were the work of a serial killer.
Kian dropped the paper on his desk. “Doomers?”
Robert shook his head. “Doomers don’t go around killing women. They are considered too valuable to waste. This is the work of a crazy person. Probably an immortal male, but not necessarily a Doomer. He could be one of us.”
It didn’t escape Kian’s notice that Robert had referred to the clan as us. Should he be glad that the guy was counting himself as one of them?
Kian wasn’t sure how he felt about it.
“Thank you for bringing it to my attention. I’ll start an investigation.”
Robert rose to his feet. “I guess you’ll be keeping the paper?” He looked at the thing longingly.
“I don’t need the whole thing. Just leave the article about the murders. Unless there is something else you think I should read?”
“Are you interested in sports?”
“Not really.”
“Stocks?”
“Shai keeps me updated.”
“Then I can think of nothing else.” With careful precision, Robert tore out the relevant section, folded it neatly, and handed it to Kian.
“Thank you.”
As soon as Robert left his office, Kian called Onegus.
The chief Guardian arrived a few minutes later.
“Doomers.” He shook his head as he read the article.
“Not necessarily. Robert argued that even Doomers don’t kill women indiscriminately. He thinks it’s an immortal male gone insane. Which means the murderer could be anyone. Even one of ours.”
Onegus scratched his tight blond curls. “It happened before.”
“Vlad.”
“Yeah. What a clusterfuck that was.”
In those days, there had been no newspapers to deliver news almost instantly. News had traveled slowly. By the time they’d become aware of what their deranged relative had been doing, the body count had been staggering.
“I’m putting you in charge of the investigation. If you need help, we can contact Turner and have him send out one of his contractors to snoop around.”
“We could use Eva’s help.”
Kian pointed a finger at the Guardian. “Don’t even breathe a word of it in front of her. Bhathian would lose his ever-loving shit if we involved his pregnant mate in an immortal-gone-rogue manhunt.”
“I have no intentions of getting her physically on the case. Just as an advisor.”
“And you think she’d be satisfied with that? I’ve dealt with her. Other than my mother and Amanda, she is the most strong-headed female I’ve ever dealt with.”
Onegus chuckled. “I can sweet-talk her like I do every other woman.”
“No, you can’t. Just drop it. We don’t need her help with this. Am I clear?”
“Yes, sir.” Onegus saluted with a grimace.
Fuck. The Guardians needed a reminder that he was their leader and his orders were not suggestions or friendly requests.
Kian expected them to be obeyed.
Chapter 23: Syssi
“Let’s go out.” Kian pulled Syssi into his arms. “You need a change of atmosphere.”
As always, the feel of his strong, warm body provided a sense of well-being. But even that wasn’t enough to improve her mood. Which was probably why Kian was suggesting an outing.
“Where to?”
“How about your favorite, that cheese place?”
“I thought you didn’t like how crowded
it was.”
“I don’t. But you like it, and that’s good enough for me.”
It was sweet of him, but she didn’t want him cringing under the hungry gazes of covetous humans. She wasn’t happy about those either.
They shouldn’t have bothered her. Kian had eyes only for her and patently ignored all others, but when it happened more than once or twice it became annoying.
No wonder movie stars stayed away from public places.
“We can go to By Invitation Only.”
His bright smile confirmed his preference. “You sure? I don’t mind the cheese place.”
“I’m sure. I like the idea of dressing fancy for a change.”
The gleam in his eye meant he had something naughty on his mind. “Wear your diamond choker for me.”
She smirked. “I thought I was supposed to wear it only in the bedroom with nothing else on.”
“After dinner, it will be exactly what you’ll be wearing. Or rather not wearing.” He cupped her rear and gave it a squeeze. “I’ve been remiss lately.” He slapped her butt playfully.
It was true. With how down she’d been, it was no wonder Kian had been in no mood to play. It started with the vision and had gotten worse after Eva’s announcement. The twinkle of hope that the little boy in her dream had brought had been snuffed out, and the disappointment was devastating.
“What else should I wear? Besides the choker?”
Kian shrugged. “Something that’s easy to take off.”
“You’re so romantic…” she mocked.
“Never claimed to be.” He kissed her lightly. “Go get dressed.” He turned her around and slapped her butt again.
God, she missed it—that delicious tingle and tightening. Tonight they were going to play, and she was going to forget all about the disturbing vision and her silly yearning for a baby.
What had gotten into her anyway?
She and Kian had time in abundance to become parents, and in the meantime she was getting her baby fix babysitting Phoenix. Soon there would be another little one to babysit. Eva and Bhathian would be living next door in the new compound, or village as everyone had started referring to it, and she could enjoy their baby boy whenever she pleased.