by Nora Flite
Sitting up straighter, I pulled my jacket around myself. It was useful for hiding my body in this ridiculously revealing gown. “It's fine,” I said, smiling softly. I hadn't even been listening. I kept myself busy between glancing at Kite to my left, and eyeing Jacob in the side mirror.
He was watching me. He hadn't stopped smiling.
Fuck.
“Tonight,” I said, pushing to return things to normal—as normal as hunting down another human was. “What do we do? Jacob, you were the one who said this man would be there. If I see him, if any of us sees him, do we just... walk up and ask him his name?” I was having trouble picturing myself doing anything but grabbing Kite's gun and shooting the guy if I did lay my eyes on his awful face again.
Jacob leaned forward between the seats. “It'd be better if none of us asks him directly. I'd prefer he not see our faces so soon. If you notice him, just approach me. I'll do the rest.”
His underlying message was, “don't do anything rash, Marina.” I would try not to, but considering how I'd reacted to just seeing that photo... On impulse, I hugged my purse. The picture was inside. I hadn't let it get away from me since putting it in there. “Can't I just ask him directly? He won't know me, and I don't care if he recognizes me if the next time he sees me is when I blow his brains out.”
Kite laughed, steering the car down the busy street. “That's not the worst plan.”
My frown tugged at my lips. “I can't tell if that was sarcasm.”
“It wasn't.” Shrugging, he tossed me a brief smile. “You're right. He won't know you. If you're sure you could keep yourself calm, not alert him to anything suspicious, all while looking him in the eye and imagining what he did and what you want to do...” In the street lamps outside, Kite's face reminded me too much of the night he'd put a gun to my temple and fired. My stomach tore in half at the memory. “If you can do all that,” he went on, “Then it's fine. But do you really feel like you'll keep it together when you face him?”
His dark words from that night rolled through my skull like a war machine. “You will not succeed, and then you will die.” Both of these men had no confidence in me. They thought I'd mess up the plan, or that when it came down to it, I'd fail and find myself dead at my target's feet. It frustrated me, but I hadn't proven them wrong yet. Tonight, I'd have a chance to.
I told myself if I did see the killer, I was going to cool my head and approach him. I'd ask his name and then I'd make conversation and leave. I could do it. I could fucking do it.
For now, lying was easier than arguing. “Okay,” I sighed. “You win. If I see him, I'll just go tell one of you two. Speaking of which... if we're not going after him tonight, why does Kite have a gun?”
Jacob put his hand on the back of my seat. His perfect nails were inches from my hair, the strands mangled into what I hoped was an elaborate twist off of my neck. “On the off chance something goes wrong. Or right, I suppose.” His chuckle was lighthearted. “If our target let's himself get into a compromising position, it'd be wise of us to take advantage of that. Personally, I'd prefer if we kept it to surveillance.” His eyes settled on me, intense as ever. “We have plenty of time to fulfill your wish, Marina.”
He sounded so sure. But time was a funny thing, and wishes were even stranger. Neither of these things could be grabbed and strangled, they didn't bleed or feel pain. What could I do with time and wishes, that I couldn't do with a weapon and the man I wanted to scream for me right in the same room?
Maybe Kite was right. Maybe I couldn't stay calm after all.
“Here we are,” Jacob said, pointing as his friend turned the car up a long driveway. The building was huge, some sort of museum that had been converted. Lights blinked, and money just came off of the place in waves.
Sitting up, I caught my wide eyes in the mirror. “What is this event for, exactly?”
“It's a charity ball,” Jacob said. “Lots of important people bragging about how much they donated. You know the type.”
I did not know the type. I didn't know anything like this at all. “Charity,” I repeated. Suddenly, the idea of the murderous creature who had swung his ax and chopped up my happiness being here seemed... impossible. This was a place full of smiles and laughs and, at worse, snobby rich people. He belonged among all of them as much as I did—which is to say, not at all.
Flooding with unease, I shot Jacob a wary stare. I had to twist to do it, and I found him staring right back at me. God, he was so relaxed—a sleeping lion. He was an animal that could jump up and tear someone to pieces. He was a hunter, but what was he hunting? “Jacob, are you sure this guy is going to be here?” I asked.
His shrug did not ease my nerves. “It's impossible to be sure. That's why we're all looking.”
“It just doesn't seem like the kind of thing a murderer does.”
Oh, how the two of them chuckled. I shot my eyes between them both. Kite spoke first, teeth glinting in the bright lights we drove past. “Marina, think about what you just said.”
I already was. “There's a difference between you two and him,” I said sternly.
“Maybe,” Jacob whispered. “But the point is, you don't know the facets of every person you meet. The side this man showed you is the only one you know.” Gesturing at the people waiting for us—the valets—he spoke faster, quieter. “Don't assume you have seen every angle someone has to offer you. One day, they'll twist and expose another part of who they are. That side might shock you.”
It was cryptic advice. I ached to tear it apart and find the chunks of relevance. I wanted to understand Jacob and Kite more. If they had other facets, what were they? I already knew the shadowed web they both hid from the public—what else could secret hitmen have in their closets?
The passenger door opened, a man in a red vest offering me a hand. I took it, let the valet help me out of the car. I clung to my purse, refusing to let it out of my sight.
We all stood on the walkway, watching the car roll into the distance. Kite, especially, watched it go. I got the impression he wasn't comfortable with someone driving his Mercedes. “This way, please,” another man in a matching vest said. He waved us toward a set of doors, the glass showing the collection of people milling inside.
Was my family's killer really in there?
“Well,” Kite whispered, tickling my left ear. “Let's go and have some fun.” His face was full of mischief, a hand gliding down to coil on my elbow. If I didn't start walking because of him, Jacob picked up the slack. That dark-haired man had his palm on the middle of my back, urging me into the building.
The three of us entered, and with the two handsome and skilled men at my hips, I felt like some sort of ambassador—someone important that needed guarding. Fuck, I felt like a movie star.
Their hands on me, their nearness and their lovely scents. It would have been wonderful if I wasn't genuinely terrified of what was on their minds. Jacob had laid it out so bluntly, pulled the curtain aside and said, “Look here, this is what we want from you.” Kite was intense, Jacob was insistent. Both of them, together?
They'd ruin me in seconds.
I needed to focus. Ignoring how Kite's fingers felt on my skin was a challenge, but I had to do it. Pretending Jacob hadn't kissed me hours ago and clearly wished for more was... difficult to shove out of my head.
But I really didn't need this.
I had a murderer to find.
“It'll be easier if we split up,” I said. “I'll go over there, see if I recognize him in the crowd.”
Kite glanced down at me, then shared a look with Jacob. Something went unsaid, but they both released me. The air between us was a canyon, it surprised me how much I noticed the distance. Had I gotten used to them being this close to me, somehow? “Alright,” Kite said, adjusting his vest. It fit him tightly, enhanced the shape of his strong shoulders. Dammit, why did he have to look so good? “I'll wander around this way. Find me if anything happens, Marina. Got it?”
“Got it.” Slid
ing forward, I went to start scouting—a hand closed on my wrist.
Jacob had held me back, his grip light, but his stare as good as a vice. “If you need help, I'm here as well.”
The way my heart swam, I imagined it would get lost in the depths of my budding desire. Knowing what they'd agreed to behind my back, it should have made me furious and bitter. Standing there, faced by both of their concerned expressions, I wished being angry was easier. Being angry was simple. Dwelling on their hunger for me was not.
I touched his arm, pulled away gently but firmly. “Relax. I'll be fine. I'm going to do what you guys said. I won't cause any trouble.”
They nodded, smiling as I turned away. It was good they believed me. It was better for all of us to think I was cowed. I had no plans to avoid that god damn monster. If I saw him, if his face appeared in the crowd...
I would cause all the trouble in the world.
****
An hour. That was how long I spent wandering the building. It was a lovely place, all white marble and golden lamps and colorful art on the walls. Outside there were gardens, lit as if by fireflies with the strings of tiny lights. There was food, and drink, and fuzzy music. It was an event built to solidify good moods.
I was miserable.
The man I was chasing wasn't here. Or, I hadn't found him yet. But I'd looked, stomped my way across every foot of the place until my aching feet wished I had shoved them into newer, better shoes. Jacob had bought me so much, I should have insisted on comfier heels while I was at it.
I swirled the drink in my hand. It had been hard to turn away every other waiter with a tray, they swarmed like flies—trying to be helpful, but in the end, making me feel like I'd buckled and given in to their efforts. At least the wine was tasty.
Leaning on the wall, I felt someone nearby. The kind of sensation of hot eyes that I might have missed if I wasn't already so on edge looking for someone. Blinking, I turned and spotted a man watching me. He wasn't anyone I knew, just a guy who could have blended into the crowd in his black suit and James Bond bow-tie. Not someone I cared to talk to—but he'd caught my eye. And now, he was swaggering my way.
Ah, fuck, I thought silently. I didn't need this right now.
He stood over me, a glass extended, an offering of peace. “Why, hello there! Sorry if you keep hearing this all night, but I just had to tell you, that dress looks amazing on you.”
Blushing nervously, I looked side to side. How did I get out of this politely? He clinked my empty glass with the new one, making me wonder where he'd gotten it from. “Uh, thanks,” I said. Setting my champagne flute on a table, I took the one he gave me. “You're very kind.”
“Kind?” His teeth were off-white, his smile no where near as nice as Kite's or Jacob's. “My dear, I'm only being honest. You're a lovely creature. What's your name?”
Ugh. I needed to escape. “Marina,” I said, twisting the stem of the glass. I was debating on excusing myself. Would he get the message? Fuck, I was not used to guys hitting on me so openly.
“Marina, that's a perfect name for you.” If he made a joke about men coming in to dock with me, I was going to slap him. Instead, he tilted his glass and beamed. “I'm Baxter. Cheers, to the lady in red.”
He started to drink, and since it would free me from speaking, I moved to copy him. I didn't get that far. The hand on my shoulder startled me, fast fingers plucking my drink away. “Kite!” I gasped, boggled by his appearance. His arm snaked around my middle, a deliberate motion that screamed, “This is mine.”
“Sorry to interrupt,” he said, winking and making it clear he wasn't sorry at all. “But I need to steal my lovely wife for a minute.”
I was burning with shock, but I still caught the look of disgust Baxter gave us both. I also saw how he stabbed his glare at me, looking for a ring. Kite had closed his fingers tight, hiding my hand from his prying eyes. “I didn't know,” he muttered. Was I crazy, or did he look at my drink in Kite's hand? Was he regretting giving it to me?
Pulling me towards the gardens, Kite laughed in his throat. “Forget it. Not a problem. People try to steal her all the time. Have a good night, don't do anything stupid, okay?”
Baxter flushed, watching us until we were out in the cool night air. Once there, Kite let me go, his eyes twinkling. “What the hell was that?” I asked, though no anger touched my voice.
“That asshole was bothering you,” he said. Lifting the drink I'd been holding, he tipped it, poured it onto the grass. “Plus, he thought it'd be a good idea to slip you something. What a piece of shit.”
My mouth had fallen open. I stared at the wet ground, then looked back up to Kite. “He tried to drug me? How did you know?”
He answered with a casual shrug. “I was watching.”
He was watching. Like spying on my movements and habits was a normal thing. But I couldn't be upset, he'd saved me. Hugging myself, wishing my jacket wasn't at the bag-check, I felt my smile growing. “Thank you, husband.”
Kite's grin went ear to ear. “Anytime, wife. How is the night treating you?”
That made me falter. “Not great. I haven't found him. I assume you haven't, either.”
Shaking his head, Kite toyed with the side of his tie. “Nothing.”
Lifting my chin, I gazed out over the gardens. We were near the hedges, a fountain tinkling in the darkness. The opening into the building glowed like a dragon's mouth. No one was near us, they gathered closer to the warmth inside or smoked by the doors. “Do you think Jacob found anything?” I asked softly.
“I doubt it. If there was anything to find... I think we would have, by now.” I must have flinched, because he stepped closer, hurried to correct himself. “That doesn't mean this guy won't show up, Marina. It's still early.”
He was right, but my gut said otherwise. Looking at his hand, I studied the empty glass. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
Reaching out, I touched his wrist—then took the champagne flute. “If the guy hadn't tried to roofy me, would you have still stepped in?”
Kite's mouth was a tight line, his voice just as tense. “Yes. I would have.”
In my chest, my ribs struggled to contain my rippling lungs. “Why? Why would you stop him, but not care if... if Jacob...”
“Shit,” he said, the sound of a man who'd walked into a trap. There were goosebumps on my skin from the chilly air. Kite's palms came down on my upper arms, adding to the array. “Marina, I'll make this clear. I'm not jealous of Jacob. I'm never going to be. I trust him with my life, with everything.” The night sky framed his face, his features sharp as blades. “But I am fucking jealous of every other single man on this planet who would dare to flirt with you. If I see them try, I'll stop them again and again. I'm sorry that it sounds hypocritical, but that's how it is.”
I felt his voice in my marrow. If I leaned forward, I could put my forehead on his chest. How would that feel? “I don't want strangers to flirt with me,” I whispered. “I shouldn't... I shouldn't let you do it, either. Or Jacob.”
His mouth came down, but it didn't kiss me. Kite hovered, his nose on mine, his breath sweet with wine. It left me wavering. “You shouldn't, and we shouldn't be getting wrapped up in you, either. Guess we're all just weak, aren't we?”
Screwing my eyes shut, I tried to breathe in the clean air. All I found was more of Kite. “Maybe you're weak,” I mumbled. “But I'm not.” I heard him chuckle, but then my head was all rushing blood and atomic bombs as I swept my lips over his.
We lingered like that, and might have stayed, if Kite didn't pull away. He left a gorge in me when he did, my thighs shaking with instant desire. God, I wanted him—he looked and tasted amazing. How was I still holding the wine glass? How was I still standing, for that matter?
“Let's go inside,” he said. I saw the fire in his stare, and the way he adjusted the bulge in his pants wasn't subtle. The sight of it was a wicked tease.
His comment about my target possibly sho
wing up floated back into the front of my lust-soaked brain. “Alright. Yeah. We should... probably chill out a bit.”
Kite flicked his attention down, and I followed, noticing the hard shapes of my nipples outlined through my bra and dress. His raspy groan, then strained chuckle, sent lightning to my lower belly. “Chill out. Right. Let's get some un-drugged drinks, then.”
That was a good plan. I felt drugged on his heat and adrenalin already.
- Chapter Nine -
Marina
I had two glasses of wine in me, music in my blood, and I'd started to accept that nothing would be accomplished tonight. Well, nothing regarding my revenge, anyway.
One of the wide rooms has been converted into a dance floor. The lights were dimmed, and every variation of cocktail dress and evening gown began to sway with the clean-cut variety of men. The music was surprisingly good for what I considered a stuffy event, and I still had no clue what the charity was for.
They'd announced the names of the major benefactors, a number of them anonymous. People had clapped, I had drank, and not once had Kite left my side. I still had no clue where Jacob was.
Finishing my recent drink, I went to look for more—everyone is allowed to drown their sorrows—when Kite hooked his arm around me. “What are you doing?” I asked, twisting to face him.
He aided me in that, yanking me firmly against his chest. “I think it's called dancing,” he teased. Scooping up my fingers, he led me deeper into the crowd.
“I'm not a very good dancer,” I laughed, caught up in Kite's impossible to shatter grin. He was always so proud of himself, so coy and amused. The part of him that was fast—fast enough to kill in broad daylight—had faded in my mind. He made it easy to forget.
“Dancing isn't hard.” Scraping his way down to my middle, the hitman held me like I was going to fly through the roof any second. That sensation had me burning, and then he pushed the notch up by shifting until he was squeezing my hips. I gasped, and he just leaned closer.
Kite slid against me, rocking his body in a gentle wave. He had rhythm in his blood, and I would have struggled to keep up with him on a good day. He was kind enough to take control, a hand on the middle of my back, one rolling to touch the outside of my thigh. He knew what he was doing, he made no unintentional steps.