Fire Night

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Fire Night Page 3

by Douglas, Penelope


  Oh, right.

  He smiled over at me, mischief behind his gaze. “So, did you give it to her yet?”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “Not yet,” I muttered, not wanting Banks to hear. “Can I count on you for a calm night tonight, so I can enjoy my wife?”

  “Why are you asking me?”

  “Because every holiday, shit hits the fan over something,” I barked.

  He thinned his eyes. “Thanksgiving was not my fault.”

  “The Fourth of July was your fault.”

  He folded his arms over his chest as the kids finished lighting the candles. “And who gave Thunder Bay’s basketball team your uncle’s trucks last March so they could dump manure all over Falcon’s Well after losing the state championships?”

  “Not me,” I shot back, digging out invisible dirt from underneath my fingernail. “I simply left the keys out. I didn’t give them to anybody.”

  He scoffed, the guests filling the room around us.

  “Besides, we didn’t lose,” I told him. “They fouled. The ref just didn’t see it.”

  “Well, the next time you ‘leave the keys out’,” he said, getting in my face and lowering his voice. “Remember, my wife was on the phone with their mayor, getting screamed at for twenty-five minutes.”

  I opened my mouth to defend myself, but nothing came out. Yeah, okay. He had a point. That wasn’t exactly fair, I guess.

  “Fine,” I said.

  I’d behave tonight, but I expected the same from them. No drama.

  The townspeople filled the house, some in masks and others in face paint, dresses and jewelry glittering in the candle light. I did a double-take, zoning in on their eyes to see who I could recognize in their disguises.

  Some. But not all.

  Something nipped at me. This was no longer smart. People were just walking into the house. No one was even checking invitations.

  There was no security other than Lev, David, and a few others circulating the grounds, and there were no guards at the door.

  We didn’t invite trouble, but as the years passed, we acquired more. More land, more real estate, more power, more money… And when you get anything worth having, someone would eventually try to take it.

  We’d been lucky so far. Too lucky.

  “We ready?” Em called out.

  But before I could turn back and reply, a voice boomed from the stairs. “‘Lot 666, then!’”

  Emmy startled, twisting around, and all of our eyes followed to see a man in a cape and a white mask covering half of his face.

  “‘A chandelier in pieces!’”

  I laughed, putting my worries aside and recognizing Will instantly. Michael shook his head, unable to hide his smile.

  The kids giggled as Will jogged down the stairs, whipping his cape all about. “‘Some of you may recall the strange affair of The Phantom of the Opera.’”

  “Daddy!” II laughed.

  Will spun in a circle, making eye contact with all the kids. “‘A mystery never fully explained!’”

  And then, on cue, the orchestra and refurbished organ above us belted out the dramatic overture from The Phantom of the Opera, making the hair on my arms rise again.

  The floor vibrated under my shoes, and my pulse quickened.

  Winter couldn’t smile any bigger if she tried.

  Someone must’ve flipped the switch, because the chandelier began to slowly rise, climbing higher and higher toward the ceiling as we tipped our heads back to watch.

  The flames on the candles flickered with the movement, and the kids started running, twirling, and skipping away into the ballroom.

  I followed them in, the guests filtering in behind me, some starting to join Michael and Rika on the dance floor, while others plucked glasses of champagne off the trays of servers passing by.

  Emmy carried the bowl of basil ashes, setting it on the mantel next to the menorah before walking toward me, her face still lit up.

  She loved lighting the chandelier.

  “Your favorite part…” I mused as she settled at my side, watching the room.

  “Always,” she said, gazing up the ceiling at the four small, electric fixtures above, not presently being used. “I almost wish they were all lit by candlelight.”

  “Too much work,” I told her.

  “Affirmative.”

  “The Bell Tower is gorgeous.” I looked down at her. “I love what you’ve done with it. Or refused to do with it, I should say.”

  She shrugged. “There’s beauty in the history. I don’t want that erased.”

  I found Banks on the dance floor, she and Rika with their heads together over something.

  “It’s where I kissed her for the first time,” I said, letting my eyes trail over my wife’s bare shoulders.

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “Devil’s Night.” The memory played in my head. “My senior year.”

  The overture ended and the sound system kicked in, playing a soft, haunting tune with lyrics.

  Then, Emmy said, “She was in the confessional with you that morning, wasn’t she?”

  I tipped my gaze back down to her. “How did you know that?”

  She grinned, as if just remembering. “I was there that day. I ran into her.”

  “You go to church?” I teased.

  But she just looked away, a coy smile on her lips. “I had my reasons.”

  Or secrets? Whatever. None of my business.

  “The confessional,” I mused. “That was the first time I talked to her, too. That day changed my life.”

  “Mine, too.”

  “If only I’d fought more for what I wanted.” That day ended far worse than it had begun. “We wouldn’t have missed out on years of being together.”

  “Me too,” she added in a whisper.

  Banks stole glances at me every once in a while, her red lips wet and her eyes dark. Heat covered my body as images filled my head of exactly what she’d look like wearing only that face makeup.

  “I need to dance with her,” I told Em and started to move onto the floor.

  But then a young brunette was in front of me, her shoulders bare in a white gown.

  “Kai,” she chirped.

  I halted, seeing my student looking a lot different than she did in her Aikido class on Tuesdays and Thursdays. “Soraya,” I said, “You look great.” I took her hand and leaned in, pressing my cheek to her temple for a quick embrace. “Are your parents here?”

  “No.” She smiled up at me. “But they are curled up in front of a fire tonight.”

  “Good to hear.”

  I tried to step around her and say goodbye, but she started talking again. “Thank you for the one-on-ones last week,” she told me. “They really helped.”

  She looked up at me with adoring blue eyes, her silky-looking red hair hanging around her. I could almost feel Emmy’s loaded smirk next to me.

  Please. The kid was a…kid.

  “Of course,” I told her. “Practicing some of the language over break?”

  “Yeah.” She clutched her dress, and I looked down, watching her slowly lift the hem off the ground. “I carry it with me everywhere.”

  As the dress rose higher and higher, I saw black markings drifting up the golden skin of her leg.

  “Ichi, ni, san,” she recited, reading the Japanese numbers like a cheat sheet on her body.

  “Yon, go, roku.” She lifted the dress higher, over her knee and up her thigh. “Nana, hachi…”

  Sweat cooled my forehead, and I glanced at Banks, seeing her watching us with her eyes on fire.

  “Shit,” I mouthed, seeing Emmy cover her smile with her hand.

  “Ku.” Soraya continued, the dress damn near rising up to her… “Juu,” she finally said.

  I swallowed, my eyes flashing back to Banks, Rika standing next to her wide-eyed and looking almost ready to laugh.

  I caught sight of the guys watching me too, their lips moving, and even though I couldn’t make out what they
were saying, I could read their shit-eating grins.

  I looked down again, trying to not see Soraya’s long leg. “That’s…that’s good.”

  She dropped the dress back down. “I know the dojo is closed until after the new year, but I left my bag in the locker room.” She inched closer, and I took a step back. “Will you be in this weekend? Like for paperwork or something? I can stop by. Just really quick.”

  Alone? While I’m in there…alone?

  I darted my eyes to Banks, and at the same time, she and Rika dragged their fingers across their throats in a threat.

  Emmy snorted, grabbing a glass of champagne off a passing tray. “I’ve seen that before. Like brother, like sisters.”

  Goddammit. This wasn’t my fault. Banks was going to be pissy all night now.

  I sidestepped the girl. “My wife will be in all day tomorrow, taking care of some things,” I told her. “I’ll let her know you’re coming by.”

  And I got the hell out of there.

  But as I tried to head to Banks, the guys dove in, cutting me off. “Someone’s in trouble,” Will teased.

  “Gimme a break.” The kid has a crush. Like I could control it.

  I tried to search for my wife, but the dancers were spinning, and I couldn’t see around the guys.

  “Dammit,” I muttered, sliding my hands into my pockets.

  “Yeah,” Michael added. “Everyone saw that.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Oh, shit.” Damon laughed under his breath as he raised his glass to his lips. “Here come the gloves.”

  Huh? I found Banks again as Rika tried to bite back her laugh, clearly talking Banks down as my woman shot glares at the teenage girl.

  “See!” I turned to Michael. “What’d I tell you? Shit always hits the fan.”

  “Relax,” he told me. “Banks trusts you. So teen queen has a crush on her sensei master.”

  “His tutelage marked all around her thighs…” Damon taunted.

  “And my wife has knives wrapped around hers,” I whisper-yelled, aware of our guests. “Shit. Look at them.” I gestured to the girls, Winter and Emory having joined them. “They’re planning something.”

  Will and Michael chuckled, not moving an inch to stop anything.

  “I’m more worried about that young girl than you,” Damon mused.

  I was more worried about the night I had planned going to hell. My wife trusted me, but it really pissed her off when other women still didn’t care that I was married. Not that it happened often, but she saw it as a sign of the most ultimate disrespect. In that way, she and Damon were more like their father than they would ever admit.

  “Get her away from my pregnant wife, please,” Michael said. “She looks like a bomb.”

  Yeah.

  I started to move away, but Jett ran up to me and jumped into my arms. I caught her just in time.

  “Daddy, we’re going to the theater now!” she announced.

  “You got everyone?” Michael asked Miss Englestat, who came up with Dag and Fane in each hand.

  “Yes, sir,” she told him, breathless. “Athos is staying behind, and Mrs. Cuthbert has tabs on Madden and Octavia. Everyone else is accounted for.”

  Damon’s boys grabbed on for a hug, but Ivarsen breezed past, his thumbs tapping away on his phone.

  “Hey, be good,” Damon called after him.

  “At everything,” the kid finished for him.

  I chuckled. Tree? Meet apple.

  “Happy hunting.” I kissed my kid on the nose and hugged her tight. “See you at midnight.”

  But she started kicking. “Let me go or Indie will take my seat!”

  I dropped her to the floor. “Be good.”

  Without another word, she raced toward the foyer, one of the nannies wrapping her coat around her.

  As the kids left for the next few hours—set to join the rest of the children in town for treats and festivities at the theater—the music turned a little harder and deeper, and I searched the crowd for Banks again.

  But my gaze caught on something as I looked. Someone was staring at me.

  Full white mask. Black cloak. Near the fireplace. I blinked and spun around, trying to find his face again as my pulse skipped a beat.

  Who—?

  None of the men were wearing cloaks. Now that would be overdressed.

  But when I searched for him again, he wasn’t there. A chill crawled up my back at the way he’d just stood there, the black hollows of his eyes frozen on me.

  “You better go,” Damon said.

  Huh?

  I turned to him, seeing him gesture behind me. Following his gaze, I finally caught sight of my wife as she pulled on a white, half-mask, covering her eyes and nose, looking to me as she slowly backed away into the shadows. I flexed my jaw even as my groin swelled with heat at how taunting she was.

  Don’t you dare.

  I started off, following her, the man in the cloak and mask forgotten.

  I sidestepped the dancers, weaving in and out of the crowd, reaching her just in time to take her arm.

  “Stop,” I whispered in her ear.

  She tensed, refusing to turn and face me.

  “I wasn’t going to kill her,” she said in a low voice, staring at young Soraya at the edge of the room. “Just freak her out a little.”

  “She’s a child.”

  “Yes.” She turned her head, challenging me. “I seem to remember being that child’s age the first time you had your hand up my shirt.”

  The memory of that mysterious girl in my arms in the Bell Tower washed over me again. “Your shirt,” I pointed out.

  Not hers.

  She spun around, her green eyes and eye makeup piercing me through the white mask. “I mean it,” she said, inching away like she was something I could never have. “You wouldn’t tolerate me teaching someone who flirted with me.”

  “And you wouldn’t let me dictate what you’re allowed and not allowed to do.” I stepped forward as she retreated.

  I’d admit, I kind of liked her jealousy.

  But then I didn’t.

  I didn’t like that it could be coming from insecurity.

  “Don’t you trust it?” I asked her.

  “What?”

  “That this will never end.”

  She needed everyone to know that I was hers, when it would save her a lot of aggravation if it could just be enough to know that I knew I was hers.

  I stalked toward her, slow step after slow step as my eyes dropped to her tits threatening to pop over the top of her dress.

  And believe me, I knew I was hers.

  The man in her bed every night. The father of her children. Her partner in everything I did.

  “I want to give you something,” I told her.

  Couples swirled around us, neither of us blinking as her eyes seemed to glow in the dim light.

  “Come here now,” I said.

  But she didn’t. She just kept backing away.

  My blood started to boil. We didn’t have all night. There was shit I wanted to do before the kids got back. “You’re pissing me off,” I bit out, digging in my heels. “You know I don’t like making scenes.”

  But I would if I had to.

  She didn’t give me a chance. As soon as she reached the edge of the room, she spun around, dove through the double doors, and disappeared. I bolted after her, not giving a shit at the eyes I caught flashing our way.

  Coming into the next room, dark with only a couple hidden in the corner making out, I caught sight of her red dress as she disappeared around another corner. I chased her, finally seeing her scurry up the back stairwell.

  Running up after her, I wound around the spiral staircase, the stones grinding under my shoe.

  Just as we reached the second floor and she tried to escape up to the third, I caught her arm and whipped her around, pinning her into the wall.

  “Like I wouldn’t catch you,” I taunted. “I don’t even know why you try.”


  A taper flickered on the wall, and I stared down into her eyes, my lips hovering over hers.

  She rocked off the wall, but I pushed her back and hiked up her dress, pressing my hand between her legs, my fingers on fire as I rubbed her softly.

  Jesus Christ. She was bare. Completely bare.

  She shuddered but stopped fighting, and I grinned, loving these rare, little surprises she gave me.

  No panties was so unlike her.

  “What were you and the girls planning down there?” I whispered over her mouth.

  “N—Nothing.”

  I glided my hand up the inside of her thighs, feeling my dick harden. God, I couldn’t wait.

  “Look at me, Nik.”

  Slowly, her eyes rose, unable to resist me when I used her real name.

  “I want to give you something,” I said, my mouth dry with need. “Reach into my jacket. Take it out.”

  I ran my fingers over her soft skin, and then my knuckles, needing every inch of my skin to touch every inch of hers.

  She reached into my breast pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, wrapped around a small object.

  I stopped rubbing her, but I didn’t move my hand as she unwrapped the gift.

  A silver comb laid inside the cloth, the ornate design featuring three rubies gleaming up at her.

  “It was my mother’s,” I told her. “And her mother’s.”

  It was one of the only things my mother had left from her family. My grandmother had had to smuggle it to her after she eloped with my father.

  Her eyes flew up to mine, and I hoped she understood what the heirloom meant.

  “The women in my family pass it on to their daughters,” I explained. “My mom wanted to give it to you herself, but she knew that…”

  I couldn’t force the words out, but her eyes dropped, her chin trembling. She knew what I was going to say.

  Banks hadn’t gotten a lot of gifts from others in life, and none from her own parents. It still made her nervous. My mom knew it might be easier coming from me.

  Raising her hands, she fitted the comb into the back of her hair and wrapped her arms around me.

  Her nose brushed mine. “I want to kill anyone for trying to take you away from me.”

  I reached my hands around her ass, feeling the strap of blades around her leg, and lifted her into my arms. “If I ever leave you, it’s because I’m dead.”

  I sank my mouth into hers, proving the only assurance she’d ever need, and I’d do it a hundred times a day for the rest of my life if she needed.

 

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