Grand Master (Demons, #3)

by Simcoe, Marina

Anger stirred inside me, at myself and my inability to get a grip on my emotions. Here I was, scanning the street for the headlights of the car even after I had cancelled, hoping for what?

  Pathetic.

  With a huff, I stomped to the window to draw the curtains closed when the headlights of an approaching vehicle made me pause.

  A black car with tinted windows pulled up in front of the entrance.

  It couldn’t be them, could it? I had cancelled.

  Still, the car stopped. Its lights went off. Someone inside was waiting.

  For me?

  Did Andras forget to pass on the message?

  How long would he sit there like that?

  Should I even care?

  Determined to ignore the car, I yanked the curtains closed.

  Not my business. I’d called. I’d cancelled. It wasn’t my fault that the line of communications between them seemed to have broken down.

  I brushed my teeth and took my bathrobe off to change into a camisole for the night.

  Something strong and powerful—and absolutely beyond my control—made me go to the window again.

  The car was still there. No lights. No motion in or around it that I could see.

  How long was he intending to stay there? And how was I supposed to go to bed and fall asleep, knowing that he was out there? I didn’t plan on him taking over my thoughts or highjacking my fantasies, and now, here he was, intruding into my everyday life, too.

  Anger seethed inside me.

  I threw on a t-shirt and a pair of jeans then shoved my feet into a pair of ballet flats.

  A recent thunderstorm had left large puddles outside, and the May evening still called for a jacket, or at least a jumper. But I wasn’t going for a walk or anything. All I wanted to do was to give that man a piece of my mind. I didn’t intend for it to take long.

  Storming out of my apartment, I dashed downstairs without bothering to wait for the lift.

  The back door of the car opened the moment I ran out of the front entrance.

  “I cancelled!” I snapped before I even came close to the vehicle. “I’m not coming with you tonight.”

  I stopped in front of the open door, unable to see into the dark interior.

  “You have to leave.” I crossed my arms on my chest.

  “Get in.” His familiar voice was low but held a hard edge.

  The note of command caused a conflicting reaction in me, stopping me in my tracks. On one hand, I wanted to scream in protest and rebel against the order. On the other hand, the urge to obey made me weak at the knees.

  I did neither.

  Instead, I took a small step closer to the open door and just stood there, my hands rubbing the chill out of my arms.

  “Please,” he added. And the sudden, almost desperate plea in his voice proved to be impossible to resist.

  “I cancelled,” I mumbled, sitting gingerly on the seat.

  “I know.” His voice was soft, luring me in. “It made me worried—”

  “Don’t.” I held my hand up, as if shielding myself from his allure. “Not another word.”

  He shouldn’t worry about me in any way, and I shouldn’t care whatsoever.

  I couldn’t allow myself to start feeling something about one of these people, without having any clear idea of what was going on.

  For me, it was just a fantasy, but I hadn’t figured out what it was for them. I actually preferred not knowing. However, it didn’t mean I didn’t have questions.

  Why would a group of people hire prostitutes for regular visits if none of them actually had sex with them? What was the purpose of making women come? What did they get out of it? If I started to care about him—if I allowed us to get closer in any way—I would need some answers, and I might not like them.

  The best I could do was to stay out of it, to detach myself from it.

  If I could simply continue to live out my fantasy for as long as it might last, the novelty and excitement of it would eventually wear out—then I would stop and leave it all behind.

  Unless I allowed myself to get attached.

  I lifted my head, making out the outline of his massive shape in the darkness.

  The same dark clothes. Hood low over his face.

  He bit his lower lip, and it glistened in the streetlight when he released it. A sudden image of me running my thumb along it flashed through my mind.

  I blinked and cleared my throat.

  “I can only continue with all of this,” I waved my hand, encompassing him and the interior of the car with my gesture, “if you don’t talk to me. Ever. At all.”

  He didn’t immediately reply, and I kept staring at his gloved hands as they twisted the blindfold in his lap.

  “I will need to know if there are any changes in your requests,” he finally said. His voice even, if maybe a little lower than usual.

  I continued to stare at his fingers as he anxiously tugged at the velvet.

  This nervous awkwardness around me that I sensed in him was oddly endearing. It made me want to set him at ease by talking, laughing, and getting to know each other better. Combined with the confident authority he often displayed in his behaviour, it created an irresistible mix in a man for me, drawing me to him. And not just physically, I realised.

  I fought my own desire to deepen this relationship in any way.

  “No. No changes,” I bit out and yanked the blindfold out of his hands.

  Leaning all the way against the window, as far away from him as possible, I tied the wide strip of velvet around my head, blindfolding myself.

  The visual of him was gone.

  However, during the long, silent ride in the car, I could not avoid breathing in his alluring scent or hearing his slight movements.

  And I could do nothing about the overwhelming awareness of him being this close to me.

  Chapter 11

  VADIM

  He didn’t need to be a demon to sense the dark cloud of anger and frustration hanging over her. It pulsed wildly, shrouding her from him and making the darkness inside the car near absolute.

  It unnerved him, increasing his own anxiety.

  However, no amount of irritation inside her could completely obscure the delicate tendril of her attraction to him. Warm and bright, it weaved its way through the treacherous mists swirling around her—fragile, like a kite lost in a thunderstorm.

  He forced his back to remain flush with the seat of the car but couldn’t help snatching the delicious emotion as soon as it stretched his way.

  Intoxicating.

  His head swam with joy the moment her light entered him.

  He had waited for this moment.

  Normally only partially aware of the time passing by—years and decades morphing into centuries with little difference to him—he spent the past month counting days and even hours, waiting to see her again.

  He didn’t expect Andras’s message about her cancellation a few days ago to upset him as much as it had. For the first time ever, he had taken a car and left the Base for a completely personal reason—to make sure she was okay on the day he got the message.

  That morning, he hid in the shadows and watched her leave for work. Only when he had seen she was alive and healthy had he returned to the Base, determined to wait patiently for her visit the following month.

  However, waiting had become more difficult as the night of her cancelled visit approached. The disappointment of not seeing her became outright unbearable when the time came.

  Unable to deal with it, he gave up, called the car, and drove all the way to her place, against all hopes of seeing her.

  No amount or concern or anxiety could suppress the overwhelming relief and joy he felt from her being in the car next to him now.

  Excitement bubbled in him. He wanted to talk to her, ask the many questions that had been barraging his mind, learn everything there was to know about her.

  Yet she ordered him to be quiet. So he held back his excitement, which wasn’t easy despite
the centuries spent in almost complete silence before now. Or, maybe because he spent most of his existence either silently complying with the orders of others or giving brief orders himself, that he actually craved a real conversation now.

  Afraid that one word from him might plunge her mood deeper into anger or that she’d order him to turn the car around there and then, he said nothing all the way to the Base.

  Chapter 12

  FOR THE NEXT SEVERAL months, my life followed the same pattern—a month-long wait for that one night, only to begin waiting again as soon as the morning came.

  Despite all my determination not to let those nights take over the rest of my life, somehow it had happened anyway. No matter how satisfying the orgasms were, they didn’t take care of my cravings for the rest of the month.

  Afraid that no one would measure up to the strangers and their expertise, I avoided the potential mess of living out my fantasies in real life and didn’t pursue any relationships, not even quick one-night stands. Instead, lying in bed on my own, with no one else but my vibrator for company, I re-lived the sensations of those nights over and over again.

  However, the images shifted in my imagination. Slowly, my fantasy had evolved from having two strangers touching me, to the hands of just one man. He was still faceless, but more real than a fantasy should be. He had a voice that made me weak in my knees and a scent that drew me in like a magnet.

  The image of the black velvet of the blindfold crushed in his hands would surface in my mind whenever I touched myself. I imagined what it would be like to have him touch me. Would he restrain that hidden power that I had sensed inside him? Or would he let it all go, taking me greedily, with abandon?

  The desire to find out what it would feel like to be with him grew stronger with every visit and with each day in between.

  I forbade him to talk. Yet I couldn’t stop the tension and my pent-up attraction from charging the air between us during the long ride in the car each month.

  Craving his touch, I had no willpower to refuse him dressing me after the sessions, savouring every brush of his fingers against my skin, every stolen touch of his hands, and every moment of being close to him.

  Vadim.

  I hadn’t called him by name to his face. Following my order of silence, our verbal interactions had been reduced to a handful of brief questions and answers.

  However, I used it in my mind whenever I thought about him, which I did almost constantly now.

  Vadim was a fairly common name in Belarus, but I thought it suited him specifically, and I loved the sound of it.

  In just four months, by the time of my September visit, there was no way to deny it—Vadim had taken over my fantasy completely.

  Standing by the window, waiting for the car to turn into the street in front of my building, I felt no apprehension. The fear of the unknown was long gone.

  The anticipation that fluttered though me had nothing to do with the strangers who were about to lock me into restraints and touch my naked body. But it had everything to do with the man who took me to them.

  Chapter 13

  “THE MARKET CONDITIONS in this country are not the best for us, Jade.” Harry, my boss, leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his barrel chest. “We took the risk by moving in, but the experiment hasn’t worked out the way we’ve hoped.”

  He had called me to his office the moment I got in on a rainy October morning. I knew something was up when he had greeted me in English. Harry and I were the only native English speakers in our office in Minsk, and we rarely interacted in our mother tongue, preferring to use Russian for the benefit of the rest of the staff.

  Harry grew up bilingual, with a Russian mother, and his language skills were even better than mine. His speaking English to me now signalled the importance of our conversation and an obvious attempt to bring it to a more casual, friendly level.

  “When are we closing?”

  “The management wants to let it go until the end of the fiscal year.”

  “So, the end of March then?”

  The closing of any operation usually came with a certain feeling of sadness—we had all put a lot of time and energy into getting this subsidiary off the ground. However, it wasn’t the first time I’d had to pack up and change cities, countries or even continents, and the upcoming move itself wouldn’t normally bother me. With my restless nature, I actually tended to welcome the change.

  But this move meant I’d be saying goodbye to people I’d met here. Tanya had become a good friend by now, and I would really miss her and her little sister. The reason for the achy tightness in my chest, I realised, was not just Sveta and her, though.

  Leaving the country would also mean the end to my monthly excursions to the mysterious place outside of the city . . . and to my meetings with Vadim, the man whose face I hadn’t even seen.

  “You won’t be left without a job,” Harry rushed to reassure me, obviously catching the shift in my mood but missing the real reason for it. “Our Moscow office is thriving. I’ve already contacted them. They are dying to have you. With your experience and expertise—”

  “Thank you, Harry.” I leaned my hip against his desk to steady myself. Even the prospect of working in the Russian capital, the city that had always fascinated me, felt less than thrilling at the moment. “How about yourself?”

  “Apparently, they need me in London.” Harry shrugged then added, animatedly, “You know, I’m looking forward to moving back to my home country for a while. It’ll be nice to see the family more often. And food!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t even realise how much I’ve missed the good old British food.”

  He laughed, and I smiled too.

  “Well, I’m really happy for you then, Harry.”

  WAITING BY THE WINDOW for the dark car to appear the night of my November visit, I calculated that tonight would be one of my four remaining nights with the strangers—five if I managed to squeeze one into March, before I left.

  This filled me with an inexplicable sadness. Now there was a firm deadline to this adventure. Just over four months from now, I’d have to leave this fantasy behind.

  I’ll have to say goodbye to him.

  That was the true source of this heavy feeling inside me—having to part with Vadim, a man I hardly knew, whose face I’d never seen, but who intrigued me more than I’d ever thought was possible.

  I had made a conscious effort not to learn anything about him. But now that there was the end in sight of whatever time we could have together, I wondered if I should get to know him a little better after all. If only just to figure out the source of this inexplicable physical attraction to him on my part.

  I grabbed my leather jacket and left the apartment before the car had even arrived that night.

  LESS THAN A MINUTE after I exited the stairwell, the car turned into the courtyard from the street and pulled over in front of me. The door opened and I slid in the back seat.

  Vadim silently handed me the blindfold, but I didn’t take it.

  “Listen,” I exhaled, unsure what I was going to say, but my mood was different tonight. The news of the upcoming move to Moscow loomed over me like a storm cloud. “If I promise not to pay attention where you’re taking me—not even to look out of the window—would you let me not wear this tonight?”

  After months of enforcing silence between us, I wanted to talk now.

  “Can I put this on later?” I gestured at the blindfold.

  “No.” His firm answer made me raise an eyebrow in surprise—I’d been too spoilt by their as-you-wish attitude to accept a rejection without questioning it.

  “Why not?”

  “It’s for your safety,” he explained. “For the safety and anonymity of others, too.”

  Others?

  I reckoned there must be more women coming to their place, besides Tanya and I. Or was he talking about the safety of the men who touched and watched me?

  He lifted the blindfold, and I scooted closer then inclined
my head for him to tie it around my eyes.

  His fresh scent enveloped me, making my heart skip a beat in the now familiar way. Except that the feeling was tainted with sadness this time—I was going to leave here soon.

  “My name is Jade,” I whispered on impulse.

  “I know.” He finished the knot and leaned back.

  “You do?” I turned more his way. My knee touched his, but I didn’t shift back in the seat. “How?”

  “We do a thorough background check of all the Sour—um . . . women.”

  “You do?” I gaped in shock—so much for my perceived anonymity.

  “We’d never share your information with anyone, but it’s necessary for us to know whom we invite,” he explained. “For the safety of everyone involved.”

  “So you knew all about me from the very first time we met?”

  “Yes. The facts that is. There are still many things I wish to know.”

  “Like what?”

  “You want to talk tonight,” he stated, then asked, “Why?”

  “Would you rather I be quiet?”

  “No. But something is different about you tonight. And I wish to know the reason.” The tone of his voice was a bit too intense for a casual small talk. As if the answer really mattered to him.

  I took a moment before replying, not feeling like talking about the upcoming move or generally bringing anything about my work into tonight’s experience.

  “I simply feel like talking right now, Vadim. That’s your name, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, but I don’t believe I’ve ever introduced myself.”

  “You haven’t. Andras mentioned it over the phone once. Did he break any rules by doing so? I don’t want to get him in trouble or anything.”

  “No, it’s fine. In fact, I should have introduced myself to you earlier. Please forgive my poor manners—I don’t get to interact with humans often.”

  Humans?

  “Why not?”

  “There is no need.”

  “Does that mean you live out of town, too?” I asked, because being in the city would make interacting with people pretty much unavoidable, in my opinion. “Anywhere near where you’re taking me?”