“Yeah, you…” Olivia teased glibly. “You remind me of a little kid who just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. You know,” her voice turned serious, taking on a salacious edge that wafted over to him like a gentle caress. “If I’d known you wanted in, you could have just said so, and I would have invited you to join me.”
“I don’t think Mitch would appreciate that,” he replied coolly, forcing one foot in front of the other and walking out of the bathroom before he did something they were both going to regret. It’d taken every last bit of his strength to force those words of self-preservation past his lips, a necessary reminder that she was no longer his. With a mental command, he closed the bathroom door behind him and stopped at the table across from the bed to scribble a note. He marched out the door, desperate for some fresh air and a little space between himself and the object of his desire.
***
Olivia stood in stunned silence, dripping wet, as the blast of cool air carried in on the heels of the slamming bathroom door stung her overheated flesh. She hadn’t told Liam that she no longer planned to marry Mitch, and before she could rectify the miscommunication, he’d stormed out. Dammit, this wasn’t how she’d wanted tonight to go.
Frustrated, she threw the shower door open and ripped the towel off the rack. “Liam!” she called after him, hastily wrapping the white terry cloth around her soaking wet body. She didn’t bother to dry off as she stomped out after him. She’d had enough of his sweet one minute and pushing her away the next. They were going to have a sit-down and clear the air, once and for all. And if, after she told him she wasn’t going to marry Mitch, he still insisted on pushing her away, then he could just take her ass back home, because she couldn’t stand this distance between them anymore.
Having him here, within arm’s reach, and still being denied her heart’s desire was more painful than having him gone. “Liam! I know you can hear me, dammit! I’m coming out! Don’t worry, I’m wearing a towel!” she snapped sarcastically.
He didn’t answer. Nothing but silence greeted her as she marched into the main room after him. “Liam?” She glanced around the room—empty. She walked into the kitchenette—he was gone.
As she stomped back into the bedroom, she noticed the pad of paper on the table, stopped, and picked it up.
Stepped out for some fresh air. Wait here.
“Wait here?” she snapped incredulously. Oh, hell no! He did not just bail on her! “I don’t think so!” Liam wasn’t the only one who was pent up and frustrated. If he could go out and blow off some steam, then what’s good for the goose was good for the gander. She was not going to sit here like some lovesick little twit, waiting for Liam to come back and grace her with his presence.
Dropping her towel to the floor, she unzipped her bag and dug out a pair of black lace panties. She slid them on before stepping into a matching spaghetti-strap sundress. Olivia adjusted her breasts to fit into the built-in shelf bra, and ruffled her fingers through her damp mane.
After a few minutes of primping, she pulled on her sandals, grabbed the key card off the dresser, and stuffed it into her purse, grumbling, “I’ll be damned if I’m going to spend the night here, sitting in this room, waiting for you! I’ve been waiting for you for the last three years!” she continued to rant under her breath as she marched out the door and down the hall. Stopping at the elevator, she jabbed the down arrow button and then gave it one more poke for good measure when the button didn’t light up.
“Three years…” she grumbled. “Hell, more like my whole damn life!” Olivia was greeted with a ding when the doors slid open, and she stepped inside, still grumbling to herself as they slowly slid closed.
Chapter Twelve
“You really think they’re in Vegas?” Rowen asked Haden as they drove down the main strip.
“I know they are,” Haden replied. “Just keep your eyes out for a black Camaro.”
“Sure, because there won’t be many of those.”
“Probably not very many with Florida plates, smart ass.”
“Why are you so sure they’re here?”
“Because this city is packed like rats. It’s harder for me to track her here with all these people. Hit the most populated areas first. That’s where he’s gonna hide her.”
“Shit, we’re lookin’ for a needle in a goddamn haystack here,” Rowen complained.
“You think I don’t know that? Now, quit your yappin’ and let me concentrate,” he growled, shooting Rowen an impatient glare.
What in the hell did this asshole think? That Liam was going to make this easy for them? His talent wasn’t an exact science, either. It was more like a sixth sense kinda thing. Well, seventh in his case. Sure, his preternaturally acute sense of sight, hearing, and smell were helpful, but it was his ability to hook into the energy of the sighted that allowed him to track her.
He didn’t know how it worked—only that it did. Every human’s life force threw off energy, and that energy had a certain white-light generic feel to it. But the sighted, they were different. Tapping into them was like taking a hit of coke. The rush was powerful, intense. Their light was colorful instead of a bland, translucent white. The problem here was sorting through all this human waste to find her. It was draining, exhausting actually, not that he’d admit as much to Rowen.
At this rate, he figured he had a good two hours left in him before he was gonna need to rest and refuel. They drove down several streets, looking for the Camaro. As Haden instructed, they crawled past MGM. He was about to suggest they hit the Red Light District when Rowen slammed on the brakes, pitching Haden into the dash. Motherfucker…
“Ho-ly shit! I can’t believe it! There he is!”
Haden’s gaze followed Rowen’s pointed finger and instantly locked on their target. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he murmured, watching Liam trek down the street at a brisk clip. The glower on the warrior’s face warned anyone with a lick of self-preservation to stay the hell away from him. Huh…trouble in paradise?
“You know, I gotta tell ya, I was starting to think you were a poser. I really did. But here he is, you fucking rock star!”
Haden wasn’t about to tell him it was pure, dumb luck that they had found him. As he stretched his senses, he still couldn’t pick up shit on that female. But considering Liam had just blown out of MGM looking pissed off as hell, it was a pretty good guess that the female was inside.
“Pull in here.” Haden pointed to a parking lot. “I need you to keep the warrior occupied while I go have a look around the casino. The longer he’s away, the better. This could take a while.”
Rowen nodded his consent. “I’ll meet ya back here.” He parked the Buick and didn’t waste any time hopping out to beat feet after Liam.
Haden had to give the guy props. It took balls to tangle with a warrior, and this one looked like he was itchin’ for a good, bloody fight.
***
The six-block walk to the pub did nothing to soothe Liam’s raw nerves. Four times, prostitutes had slipped out of the shadows to make him offers he’d been more than happy to refuse. The last one had latched onto him, offering to “do him for free,” because she was “gonna enjoy it as much as he would,” and “chargin’ him for it” just wouldn’t feel right.
He reeked of cheap perfume and crack. The scent clung to him, assaulting his overly-acute sense of smell, and now all he wanted to do was get back to the hotel and wash this woman’s stench off him. But he knew Olivia would be hungry. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast. And rather than ditch his second reason for coming down here, he decided to stop at the pub and get Olivia something to eat.
He could have ordered room service, but then, that would negate his first reason for coming down here—putting a little breathing room between him and that female. Just the thought of her made his blood run hot. It was getting harder and harder to do the right thing, and he was honestly starting to wonder just how long he could continue to play the “good guy” here.
Olivia
certainly wasn’t making it any easier on him. It was almost as if she wanted him to break, wanted to take them back down the road that had nearly destroyed them both. Certainly he was mistaken. Who in their right mind would ever want to go through that kind of pain again?
But, damn, he hungered for her. He hungered for her touch, her kiss. He hungered for the way she used to look at him—happy, carefree…in love…
“What’ll it be?” the bartender asked as he slid onto the stool.
“A large pepperoni pizza and a Bud.”
The guy twisted the cap off the beer and slid the bottle down the bar. “Be about twenty minutes on the pizza,” he said, turning around to yell Liam’s order to the back.
“Thanks,” he said, grabbing the bottle off the counter and taking a long pull. The door opened behind him, ushering in a blast of cool night air. The biting scent of sulfur stung his nostrils, instantly jacking every muscle in his body ripcord tight. When the bells clanged against the glass as the door slammed shut, he didn’t need to turn around to know who stood behind him.
What surprised him was how little a lead he had on those bastards. He hadn’t expected them to show until tomorrow at the earliest. The hunter was good. Perhaps he’d underestimated him. Liam stretched him senses and did a quick check in on Olivia. Other than being a whole lot of pissed off, she was safe. His tension eased a bit.
The smoky scent grew stronger as the demon approached. Wordlessly, Rowen slid onto the stool beside him. “I’ll have what he’s having,” he told the bartender.
The guy behind the bar uncapped another beer and sent it sliding past Liam. Rowen snatched it off the counter and took a casual swig from the bottle.
“I thought I told you the next time I saw you, I was going to kill you,” Liam growled. “Guess you decided life is no longer worth living, huh?”
“It’s nice to see you, too, Liam. And no, you said if I went after Olivia again, you’d kill me. But the killing part is debatable and I don’t see her here. Besides, I doubt you want to cause a scene in such a fine establishment as this.”
The air of cockiness in Rowen’s graveled voice all but beckoned Liam to reach out and drive his fist into that smug bastard’s face.
“But that’s why you’re here—for Olivia.” He turned to Rowen and flashed him a menacing glare, daring him to deny it.
“Possibly,” Rowen replied flippantly, “but not tonight. Right now, I’m here to partake in a beer with my old friend.” He hailed the bartender with a brisk wave of his arm. “I’ll take two more.”
“Bullshit. We haven’t been friends since you betrayed your creator. Nor will we ever be again. And I’ll get my own beer,” he growled, draining the first one and throwing a five on the counter for another.
“So, the female’s driving you to drink, huh?” Rowen chuckled, ignoring Liam’s threat and taking another long pull off his beer. He leaned closer to Liam and sniffed. “Does she know?”
He turned his amethyst-hazed glare on Rowen. “Know what?”
“Your penchant for whores and crack. Don’t worry. They have support groups for that sort of thing these days.”
“You realize that as soon as I’m finished with this beer, the bottle is going right upside your head,” he snarled under his breath.
Rowen’s throaty laugh didn’t sound quite so confidant and carefree anymore. “All right...” He held his hands up in surrender. “Obviously, you’re not ready to admit you have a problem. I get it. You’re welcome, by the way.”
“What?” Liam snapped, itching to launch off the stool and drag Rowen out of here by his throat.
“All I’m sayin’ is that you really should be thanking me.”
“Are you insane or just that stupid?”
“Think about it… If it weren’t for me, you never would have come back here, and your female would be married to that schmuck who swooped in and took your place after you left her. Mitch, isn’t it?” Rowen shot him a triumphant smirk. “So, the way I see it, you owe me a boon. I mean, isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?—to be with your precious Olivia? The only thing you have to do is keep her alive,” Rowen taunted. “How hard can that be?”
“She isn’t a game, Rowen.”
“Then why do you play with her heart?” he challenged coolly.
“Fuck you,” Liam snarled, slamming his beer down on the counter. “I’m going to kill you when we leave here. You know that, right?”
“Perhaps… But then you’ll have to choose—getting your revenge on me, or saving Olivia—decisions, decisions…”
***
Olivia walked over to the blackjack table and sat at one of the empty seats. She put a ten dollar chip down and asked the tuxedoed dealer to put her in. She played three rounds and was on a winning streak when a tall, blond, heavily muscled man sat beside her. She glanced over at her new neighbor and caught him boldly watching her. His penetrating pale green gaze locked on her, both hot and cold, in a slow head to toe assessment.
Oddly, no one else seemed to notice the guy. The dealer ignored him, tossing her cards on the red felt table and began flipping his hand. If it weren’t for the stranger’s green eyes, she’d have wondered if the man sitting beside her wasn’t otherworldly, but fallen angels had dark brown eyes, turning black as coal with the slightest emotional triggers of anger or lust. Her sighted vision was as clear as regular vision. Sometimes, the only way she could tell which dimension she was seeing in was by the shadows that frequently clung to the fallen angels.
She picked up her cards, trying to ignore the stranger with the haunting sea green gaze, and asked the dealer for another card.
The stranger leaned closer, peering at her hand, and whispered, “I think you should stay.”
The card landed on the table in from of her and she reached out to grab it, scoffing, “You’re crazy. Nine or less, and I’m golden. No way I’m gonna stay.”
He cocked his brow in basic male arrogance and shrugged. “Suit yourself. You flip that card and you’re going to lose.”
She hesitated, her outstretched hand gripping the edge of the royal blue diamond-printed card.
“Before you flip the card and lose this game, I’ll make you a wager.” His whiskey smooth voice drawled with a foreign accent she couldn’t quite place. “If I’m right and you bust, you let me buy you a drink at the bar.”
She smiled. Oh, this guy was smooth. “That hardly seems like a win for you—buying me a drink.”
“Oh, it’s a win, believe me. Having a drink with a beautiful woman can hardly be counted a loss.”
He smiled, revealing a perfect row of straight white teeth. He was handsome in a very hard, tortured way, but his smile softened his features in a way that was surprisingly disarming. Still, she was about to refuse, when she remembered why she was down here in the first place. Rejected by Liam—again, left in her room to obey his command to stay put, like some little lap dog. Her renewed surge of temper made her reckless. Maybe it would do him some good to come here and find her having a drink with another man…
“All right,” she said, “you’re on.” She gave him a cocky grin and glanced up at her dealer before flipping the card. He was staring at her like she’d just lost her mind. What was his problem?—whatever…
She hesitated for a second and then flipped her card. King of clubs. Shit.
The triumphant, throaty chuckle rumbled beside her, and she shot the stranger a mock scowl. “Lucky guess—”
“Haden,” he offered, holding his hand out to her. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Olivia.” She shook his hand and grabbed her chips off the table, tipping one to the dealer who looked like he’d seen a ghost. That poor guy needed a break.
Haden escorted her to the bar and they took a seat in a high-backed booth. The waitress didn’t waste any time rushing over to take their order.
“I’ll have a Jack Daniel’s and whatever the lady wants.”
“White Peach Sangria, please.”
The waitress nodded and walked away. Olivia looked back at Haden to find him watching her a bit too intently, sending a prickle of apprehension needling up her spine that she abruptly quelled when he said, “Please forgive me for staring. It’s just… I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but you’re an incredibly beautiful woman.”
She smiled politely, feeling the tiniest spark of guilt edging in on her conscience. “Thank you. But I think it’s only fair to tell you, I’m not here alone.”
The corner of Haden’s lip quirked into a lopsided grin, turning his face dangerously handsome. “I never thought you were.”
Her brow arched in surprise. “Oh really? And why is that?”
“Gorgeous women never come to Vegas alone, at least the smart ones don’t.”
“Then I take it this isn’t your first time in Vegas? Or do you live here?”
The waitress set their drinks on the table and Olivia picked up her straw, stirring the fruit around in her glass before taking a sip. “Mmm…it’s good. Thank you.”
Haden took a swallow of his Daniel’s before answering her with a negligent shrug. “I’ve been here a few times—mostly for pleasure. Unfortunately, this time it’s business.”
“And what business is that? What do you do, Haden?”
“I’m a collector—of rare artifacts. In fact, I was just admiring your necklace. Where’d you get it?”
Oh thank God, he wasn’t staring at her boobs. For a moment she was starting to wonder. “It was a gift.”
“It’s very beautiful. May I?” he asked, reaching across the table to finger the heart-shaped stone.
“Don’t touch her!”
The low, menacing growl sent a shiver racing up Olivia’s spine. She jumped at the snarled command that seemed to come out of nowhere. Looking up, her gaze locked on Liam glowering down at them, the amethyst sheen of his eyes radiating pure malice.
Slowly, as if moving too quickly might induce an attack, Haden withdrew his hand from Olivia. His once friendly grin now held a cold measure of contempt as he, too, looked up at Liam.
The Redemption Series Page 43