Ryuu looked at me and chuckled. “It’s not that hot, you big baby—” He cut off abruptly, noticing my wardrobe malfunction and the likely possibility that undoing a button might be a decision I could not later correct. “Oh. Well, it’s just a bra. I promise not to complain.”
I rolled my eyes and smiled, bumping my shoulder against his. “Pig.” Rather than pulling away, I remained pressed against him and I felt his pulse begin beating steadily faster. As did mine. I still wasn’t sure what to make of that newfound awareness, but I could no longer shrug it off. I could absolutely sense his pulse.
I felt Ryuu’s eyes on me, so I slowly turned to face him. My heart skipped a beat as our gazes locked, and I realized, for the first time, that our noses were only a hands-width apart. His dark eyes blazed hungrily as he studied me without blinking. A slight breeze blew between us, kissing our feverish lips and sending a few strands of my hair to dance, tickling our noses as we continued our silent staring contest.
Ryuu leaned ever so slightly closer, his eyes drifting to my lips, and I felt his pulse slow, growing deeper and more pronounced. My own heart thundered in my chest, speeding up as if diametrically opposed to his. I bit my lower lip, my eyes betraying me and shifting to his mouth.
He leaned closer by maybe a millimeter and I suddenly regained control of my body, snapping out of the almost euphoric daze that had overcome me. I jerked my chin away and stared down at my boots like they were an anchor. My breath came short and shallow and the tips of my fingers tingled as I struggled, internally, with anger, excitement, and resentment at ruining our moment. Why had I turned away? One kiss couldn’t hurt, could it?
But it could, and it would.
So long as I hadn’t spoken with Nate, it would tarnish any potential relationship I had with Ryuu—no matter how fucking goddamned bad I wanted to grab him by the ears and inhale his breath until I made his eyes roll back into his head. Damn Aphrodite for messing with my head. It had been hard enough without her meddling, but now I felt like a hormonal wreck. I clenched my fist and punched the ground, imagining Nate’s stupid face. Aphrodite’s stupid face.
Part of me seriously considered bundling Ryuu up in a web of air, pinning him to the ground, and then Shadow Walking to St. Louis, to Nate, where I would efficiently proceed to slap him in the face to get his attention, tell him how I felt, and then Shadow Walk my horny ass back to Kansas City to my captive ninja so I could give Callie Dracula what she damned well craved and deserved.
I wanted nothing more than for this Shinobi Knight to slay my va-dragon. Now. I was a damsel ready to undress, or the village was in danger. Or something. Unfortunately, I knew I was the only one preventing my happy ending. Not Ryuu. He’d…just tried to kiss me. I was sure of it.
A cold chill rolled down my spine as I remembered that Nate was in trouble and that my emotions were overriding my rational thinking. Another shudder ran through me at a more concerning thought. Had Lust returned to mess with my head? I risked a glance at our surroundings, checking for outside influence. I didn’t feel any magic or see any fog, though, so I let out a breath of relief. And guilt. This was becoming a real concern, reminding me of a few of Aphrodite’s offhanded comments.
An orgasm a day keeps the carnage at bay. Carnage begets carnage. What had she meant by that? She had warned me about Carnage before, but I wasn’t quite sure what she had meant. It was some kind of mental malady, which might explain the apparent splash of jet fuel now coursing through the engine of my sex drive.
“My apologies,” Ryuu said in a rasping, clipped growl as he rose to his feet. “I should take a quick walk and leave you to your thoughts.” He bowed and spun on a heel, already walking as I lifted out my hand in a feeble, pathetic attempt to stop him. I bit my lip, for a different reason entirely this time. Shame, anger, and guilt at hurting his feelings when we both damned well wanted what he’d made a move to do. None of this would have happened if I hadn’t continued encouraging him. Call me stupid and old-fashioned, but I knew myself well enough to know that until I spoke my peace directly to Nate, I would feel guilty about any direct action with Ryuu.
My hand fell and my shoulder slumped as I tucked my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. I brushed a loose strand of hair behind my ear, suddenly feeling very, very cold as my eyes grew blurry.
6
I don’t know how long I sat there, wallowing in frustration and anger, but it felt like a year.
I felt Ryuu’s presence behind me, but I couldn’t force myself to turn and meet his eyes. I wanted to apologize, but I also wanted to hit him. This wasn’t my fault. Why had he tried to kiss me? Why hadn’t he just fucking manned up and kissed me regardless of me turning away?
Even as the thought crossed my mind, I knew it wasn’t fair. I would have been pissed off if he had. Thrilled, but upset all the same. I fidgeted with my glass, wondering if I should pour myself another sake. Or maybe pour two glasses of sake as an olive branch between us—a gesture of goodwill. He shared my reservations about acting on our feelings before speaking with Nate, so he shouldn’t have tried kissing me. Then again, I shouldn’t have stared at him all doe-eyed and twitterpated.
I poured myself another glass of sake. Then I set the bottle on the stump in clear view of Ryuu in a vaguely conciliatory gesture—like sheathing a sword. He stepped into view and I forced myself to look up. I sucked in a breath to see the frosty anger crackling in his eyes.
“Too much to drink,” I said in a knee-jerk response, hoping to shrug off the failed kiss and my reaction. “I’m a lightweight,” I said, unable to maintain eye contact with the now furious ninja. I wanted to just forget any of it had ever happened. Right now, I felt like saving Nate from execution for the primary benefit of coming clean with him so that I could resolve the constant tension between me and Ryuu. Also to save Nate from death, of course…
But mostly to save Callie’s happy spot from eternal lonely hermit status.
Ryuu’s silence was a looming, terrifying, physical presence. I honestly couldn’t decide what he was about to do.
He made no move to approach or argue. Apologize or forgive. I half expected him to tackle me to the blanket and force his damned lips where he knew I damned well wanted them—ethical and moral quagmires dismissed in one desperate act of violent passion. Frustrated at my own twitchiness, I finally flicked my gaze his way, unable to handle the suspense any longer. He did the one thing I had not anticipated. At all.
His face had changed. It was now blank, devoid of any personal feelings—as if the moment had never happened. Was that how he wanted to play it? I found myself growing angry at the thought, even though I had tried to do much the same thing with my bullshit excuse about being a lightweight.
Realizing that his act of denial hurt my feelings, I understood that my act of denial had probably hurt his feelings.
Relationships were fucking difficult. It sure had increased my reliance on mentally cursing. I swore almost every other sentence in my mind, so full of emotion that I was fairly sure the cursing was the only thing preventing me from having a nervous breakdown.
Ryuu stood there, silently, like…he was merely my platonic and stoic bodyguard. A man doing a job. Not dismissive but indifferent and without empathy. He was still furious—I could see that much in his eyes. In fact, he looked angrier than I had ever seen him. Even when fighting Archangels and Archdemons to keep me safe. He looked as if his eyes could cut metal.
I fidgeted, needing to avert my eyes from his razor-sharp glare. “What almost happened a few minutes ago,” I said in a shaky tone, “never happened.” He was loudly silent. I felt myself growing angry at his continued, surprisingly effective tactic, and I lifted my eyes to his, bolstering my courage to stand firm. I abruptly sucked in a breath and jerked back to see that he had somehow managed to look even angrier than before! “I…I have feelings for Nate,” I lied, lamely as hell, even though he knew very well that I no longer did. He’d also heard me clarify that lack of feeli
ng for Aphrodite’s benefit less than fifteen minutes ago. Why had I said such a stupid thing?
Ryuu closed his eyes and I could have sworn I heard his jaw crack and his teeth grind together. “Then I guess I will echo your lie.” I frowned, cocking my head in confusion. “I apologize for my actions,” he said—in a tone so dry and deadpan that he may as well have drawn a picture of Nate and stabbed it in the forehead with his katana while stating they were the bestest of best friends.
My lips thinned and I decided it was time to be a little cruel rather than letting him talk down to me. “I was not lying, Ryuu,” I muttered. Because although the romance had faded, I did still love him. I just wasn’t in love with him. The two of us were not compatible for what we both truly wanted. On the other hand, many of Nate’s characteristics and traits…yeah, I loved them. Ryuu had all the good ones and few of the bad ones.
And many more that Nate didn’t have.
Ryuu didn’t even bat an eye. “This isn’t the Riverboat Casino. Doubling down on a lie will not save you.”
I stared at him a moment, unable to speak. He…had just called me out. Correctly. And a very significant part of me—about 206 bones voting unanimously—wanted to rip off my clothes, scream FTW, and then take advantage of the cruel ninja with overwhelming aggression. Damn. What was the half-life of Aphrodite’s fog? Was I full of free radicals or was this what happened when a cup runneth over?
Instead of acting on my fantasy, I took a calming breath and brushed my hair behind my ear. I patted the stump he’d occupied when setting up our picnic hours before.
Ryuu disobeyed me, kneeling down on the blanket in front of me instead. “We have more training to do, so we should make this brief,” he said.
I scowled. He was even more stubborn than me! “I’m sorry for hurting you, Ryuu.”
He studied me in silence for a few moments, and his eyes were void of any compassion or peace, as if he were acknowledging words spoken by a stranger. “Are you ready to continue training, then?”
I clenched my jaw. What the hell was this ice-cold demeanor? He knew the tension between me and Nate was still present. He was the one who first made an issue out of it. “Stop being an asshole. I’m trying to apologize.”
He leaned forward, and his eyes were downright merciless. “Then stop being a fool. I don’t care for your apology. I want your heart.” He chose words that countered my own, and they hit me like a fist to the gut.
He…wanted my heart. Not hey, I really wanted to kiss you, or sorry for crossing a line but I couldn’t help myself. Not even a I think I really like you.
No. His words had been an invading army wielding a battering ram against my castle gates, demanding my surrender, and telling me in no uncertain terms that he would take my castle one way or another.
And I’m not ashamed to admit that his words, tone, and body language flat did it for me.
His dominant defiance was so fucking sexy that my anger was almost feeding into my lust, fueling it like gasoline on a fire. I decided that I really, really liked him furious. Not right now, but kind of. It was maddeningly confusing, bringing thoughts of Lust and Aphrodite back to mind. Was I being manipulated? Was he? I knew I couldn’t make a move, even without the Nate topic, until I knew for certain that our thoughts and passions were our own.
To add to my own confusion, I felt a tear spill out from my right eye and roll down my cheek.
Ryuu’s stern glare cracked and he winced compassionately—proving that all men are suckers—before he reached out a hand to brush away the tear. I repaid him in kind.
I slapped the shinobi spirit out of him with a meaty THWACK that resounded through the park like a crack of thunder, even sending a pair of birds fluttering and squawking from a nearby tree.
7
Ryuu hadn’t even attempted to block it, and my palm stung as a result of his firm jaw not giving an inch from my full-forced blow—which caused the force of my slap to redouble back onto my hand. If he had recoiled with the blow, the excess force would not have rebounded into my hand. Which was the secret to breaking boards in martial arts—you punched through the board. Because if you pulled your punch and didn’t break it, all the force you used bounced right back into your knuckles, making them hurt like hell.
The wooded clearing was silent for a few moments. And then…
Ryuu began to laugh. He had a perfect red handprint on his cheek, and he was fucking laughing. I opened my mouth, not sure if I wanted to yell at him, apologize, slap him again, or laugh with him.
Ryuu held up a hand, forestalling me. “That was the most honest thing you’ve said in ten minutes. Your honesty echoed throughout the park.” He smirked. “And my skull.”
I couldn’t bite back the small smile at the corner of my mouth, but I managed to let out a sigh of defeat. “Fine. You win, fucking ninja Jedi,” I snapped, folding my arms. “I’m not sure what Nate and I have! Happy now?”
Ryuu stared at me with a patient look on his face. He did not nod or smile at my submission. He didn’t gloat either. He wasn’t even ignoring it. It felt like…he was waiting for more. As if I’d only dipped my toes in the pool of honesty rather than jumping all the way in. I wanted to cower under that intense look because he was right. He wasn’t going to let me get away with a bullshit apology. He wasn’t accepting it.
Damn him and his fucking jawline and that smug confidence. He was doing exactly what he did in training—refusing to let me avoid confronting my failures. He was holding up a mirror and waiting for me to be honest with myself.
And him.
I let out a nervous breath, gathering my courage and wondering what I could say to come clean about the whole Nate and Callie situation. “I think we are perfect for each other, but I also fear that we are not,” I mumbled, not entirely sure how to come clean while being honest about my feelings for Nate and my interest in Ryuu. I didn’t love Nate any less than before, but I had to admit that my love for Ryuu might go way beyond anything I had ever felt for Nate.
Ryuu watched me, giving me a slight nod of encouragement. “Thank you for admitting what I have known for some time now,” he said gently. “That is all I ask for—honesty.” He paused, a smile tugging at his lips. “Well, that is not all I ask for,” he admitted, openly grinning.
I blushed, glancing down at my boots, but I failed to hide my smile. I was going to punch him again if he kept antagonizing me. The necessity of me speaking with Nate wasn’t solely about my own guilt or clearing my conscience. It was also about responsibility. After all was said and done, Nate and I would have to work together as Horsemen for the approaching Omega War. Or Aphrodite’s pre-war tailgate party. Romantic complications or bitter resentments could be potentially world-ending if he lost trust in me for sneaking a kiss on the side. I knew how Nate felt about betrayal—I felt much the same. No matter what, daggers needed to be buried or they would be seen as daggers to the back.
Like the first time Ryuu had met Nate. That had gone to shit quickly, and it had been my fault for letting my emotions get between the three of us. Pettiness had almost caused bloodshed between two men I most admired and loved.
So…a little bit of honesty for Ryuu’s troubles. “I can no longer sense Nate,” I whispered, admitting a secret I hadn’t shared with anyone. It had been that way for a week. Ryuu’s smile evaporated in an instant. “Gunnar and Alucard are anxious, but I shrugged it off as their typical neurosis related to every half-cracked idea Nate decides to act upon,” I said with a hollow smile. “He’s apparently been missing for over a week.”
“You spoke with the other Horsemen?” Ryuu asked.
I nodded with an apologetic shrug. When I received the call from Gunnar this morning, I hadn’t shared the details with Ryuu, knowing Nate was a sore point between us. Gunnar also hadn’t given me any actionable information worth sharing. I knew Alucard would contact me if things grew dire. I was his boss, in a way. I was also his fellow Horseman.
I cleared my throat, knowing it
was time to come clean now that Aphrodite had muddied the waters in front of Ryuu. “And Hermes,” I admitted, trying to act nonchalant about namedropping. At the time, waking up to a highly irregular call from Gunnar, I’d been groggy and irritable. Then, to have him pass the phone to a man claiming to be Hermes had almost been enough to make me hang up, declaring the whole thing a stupid prank. That they had found Nate, but he was on a job helping the Olympians and would be incommunicado for a while. But after Aphrodite’s warning…I was no longer as suspicious of Hermes’ identity. I was suspicious of Hermes’ intentions. “He said the Olympians were helping search for Nate. To call on them if we needed anything.” I swallowed grimly. “They found him, but he is doing something for them as a gesture of thanks. He hasn’t visited Chateau Falco to talk with Gunnar and Alucard. Why not?” I mused, knowing Ryuu wouldn’t have an answer.
Ryuu frowned, struggling to process my story. I didn’t blame him. Had he been missing, or hadn’t he? How long had he been out of the prison Aphrodite had mentioned because Gunnar hadn’t mentioned anything about a prison, which was why I’d been hesitant to agree to meeting with Gunnar and his new pal, Hermes. “That…is good, right?” he asked, obviously confused thanks to Aphrodite’s visit and grim warning.
I shook my head. “They say he’s back, but I do not sense him,” I repeated. They had to have been lying, because as a fellow Horseman, I had grown accustomed to the small part of me that could sense Nate’s general location. The same way I could sense Gunnar and Alucard right this very moment. Gunnar and Alucard had to know something was wrong, because they should be able to sense that Nate wasn’t back either, despite what Hermes claimed. We were all Horsemen.
Ryuu grimaced. “What about our own…problems? Kansas City is ready to blow.”
I let out a weary sigh and a faint nod. “I know. But something is wrong. I can feel it,” I said, tapping my chest. “I think it’s a Horseman thing.”
Trinity: Feathers and Fire Book 9 Page 4