A Poised Nuisance (Lithe Book 1)

by Iris RIvers

  What are we doing? Lara wanted to say. What have we been doing?

  “You can,” said a voice, but it wasn’t Ana’s. Kai’s voice whispered across her skin like silk. He lay on the ground, a grim smile breaking across his bruised face.

  “Move closer to him, Lara,” Ana commanded.

  Lara hesitantly walked forward, hovering just above Kai’s ruined body.

  “Go ahead, Lara,” Kai whispered. “Shoot me. I’m not afraid—not anymore.”

  Lara’s hands trembled as tears filled her eyes, pouring down her cheeks as if from a leaking faucet. “Kai...”

  “Don’t cry,” he said, licking the blood from his lips. “Not for me.” His smile didn’t fit the situation—it was soothing and soft and everything that didn’t belong in death.

  Lara shook her head, her bones rattling. She was in pain—so, so much pain. But she still held the gun to Kai’s body as if she couldn’t drop it—as if her body was begging her to kill him to end his life because of the way he made her feel.

  Alive, but also dead. Like she’d been burning in a fire for years on end, but also like she’d been submerged in the coolest of waters, cleansing her skin. Kai was everything she’d wanted—he was her darkest desire and her purest intention.

  Shoot him, her mind coaxed.

  But how could she? How could she, when her world glowed with him? When the trees turned red and the sky turned white as he entered the room?

  “Sweet Lara,” Kai said faintly, “I would want to die no other way than by your hand.”

  He looked at her like he’d been waiting for her for thousands of years—like she was what kept him breathing.

  Aren’t I? she wondered. Isn’t his life in my hands, now and forever?

  Lara’s heart beat out of her chest. She could feel it pause as Kai shut his eyes, saying, “I’m ready for you, Lara. Always.”

  Lara shut her own eyes, no longer able to bear the sight of Kai before her, unmoving as if he had already died.

  And, slowly, Lara pressed the trigger.

  KAI HEARD THE SHOT against the silence of the room. He waited for the pain to hit, for the blood to seep from his already wounded chest, but it never came.

  Even as he heard soft cries come from Lara, he couldn’t feel it.

  She’s already killed me, Kai thought. Is that why I feel nothing?

  He heard the weight of Lara’s knees fall to the floor beside him, the aggravated swears of Ana as she paced around the room.

  “Of course,” he thought he heard Ana say. He wasn’t sure.

  Lara kneeled over Kai’s chest, hand cupping his jaw. His eyes opened slowly.

  Surely I’m dead, for the way she’s looking at me can’t be anything but a tormented dream.

  “Kai?” Lara said, her voice hoarse. She was shaking, Kai realized. Violent tremors spread across her entire body.

  He brought his hand to her hair, bringing her forehead to his own. “Lara,” he whispered. “My Lara.”

  “I couldn’t do it,” Lara whispered. “I couldn’t do it again.” She clutched onto him like he was the only thing she could hold. Her skin was hot against Kai’s raw skin.

  I know.

  Her body began shaking once more, but it couldn’t have been her body’s doing. “Your phone,” he said, pulling his head from hers. “It’s ringing.”

  Her eyes widened as she slipped her phone from her pocket, nodding. “Ana,” she said. “Someone’s calling me.”

  “Who?” Ana said, her face red.

  Lara shrugged slowly, wiping the tears from her face.

  “Answer it.”

  She brought the phone to her ear, and said, “Hello?”

  Kai watched Lara’s jaw drop open. She turned to Ana, shaking her head. After a few moments, she ended the call, her fingers shaking as she dropped the phone.

  “The detective has Lowri,” she said, “and he wants me to come get her.”

  Ana pulled her eyebrows together in confusion. “Do you mean the detective that’s been stalking Lowri? Him?”

  Lara nodded carefully.

  “Shit,” Ana spat.

  “I’ll go,” said Lara, rising from the floor.

  Kai shook his head, wincing as the room turned with the movement.

  “Yes,” Ana agreed. “You’ll go.”

  With much effort, Kai stood up, spitting the blood that coated his tongue to the floor. “You’re not going,” said Kai, “not without me.”

  Lara turned her head sharply. “I must’ve not been clear. He kidnapped Lowri—he wants to kill her, and now me.”

  “No,” Ana said, “Kai’s right. He’ll go too.”

  “What?” Lara said, shaking her head. “Oh, so Clarke can kill him? Is that it?”

  Ana paced the room, humming to herself. “Maybe he doesn’t need to be dead.”

  “You couldn’t have decided that an hour ago?”

  Ana ignored her. “Maybe he can help us.”

  Kai laughed darkly. “I’m not helping you,” he snapped.

  “But you’d help Lara,” she said. “Wouldn’t you?”

  Kai said nothing.

  “Kill the detective tonight,” said Ana, picking up the gun from the floor, holding it out to him, “and you’ll no longer be a target of Lithe. It will show me that you can be trusted. That’s all I need.”

  Kai looked between the gun and Ana’s waiting face, then to Lara—to her pouting lips and stained sweater. To her unbrushed hair and pointed nose.

  The most beautiful girl in the world.

  Lithe was the one thing he had sworn to ruin, but looking at Lara, he couldn’t say no.

  “Fine,” he said, “I’ll do it.”

  LARA AND KAI WALKED down a darkened street, nearing the parking lot Clarke had trapped Lowri in.

  Lara had refused to take him at first but realized later that she had no choice, for Kai would follow her anywhere. Even into death.

  The walk was silent—neither had dared to speak a word since they’d left the tower. It didn’t seem fitting to say anything, not as they’d scarcely escaped Kai’s death.

  They entered the lot, skipping over the gate that separated it from the outside, and treaded up the slopes, not bothering to take the elevator. It would’ve been too loud, and Lara wanted their arrival to be as discreet as possible.

  Kai saw them first. He tugged on Lara’s finger lightly, jolting her from her thoughts, and pointed to where they were. Lara outlined Lowri’s limbs, bound by a thick rope that wrapped around the chair she sat in. The detective stood with his back to her, facing a large board, its contents hidden from Lara’s line of vision.

  Kai strode forward, but Lara put her arm out to his chest, stopping his steps, and pulled on the fabric of his shirt. Kai looked to her, and it was the first time Lara realized that he didn’t tower over her. Alexander had done that, loomed over her like a brooding presence, though they were almost the same height. Kai too, was only an inch or so taller, but his chin consistently met Lara’s stare. He had never tried to look down at her—never tried to degrade her as other men had done before.

  “Before we go in there,” Lara started, still holding on to Kai’s shirt, “you need a weapon.” She reached into the waistline of her jeans, pulling out the gun Ana had given her.

  Kai brought two fingers to her chin, raising it slightly. “I don’t need a weapon. I have you.”

  Lara gulped, her throat parched. He was right. She was the deadliest thing in this lot—a poison to be reckoned with.

  “Are you ready?” she whispered, staring into the depth of Kai’s sinful eyes.

  “Yes,” he whispered back. “Are you?”

  “You know I am.”

  Lara walked away, leaving Kai’s touch, and strode toward Lowri and the detective, her hips swaying. Kai smiled a wicked grin.

  “Lara!” Lowri screamed as she approached. “Oh, thank God you’re here—

  “The famous Lara Blake,” said the detective, laughing. “What a pleasure it is to
have you here. I’m Clarke. Clarke Murphy.” He turned his head to the left, where Kai stood just behind Lara. “And who do we have here? Kai Reeves.” He clicked his tongue. “Have you joined the dark side?”

  “You lying piece of—”

  “You know him?” Lara asked, her hand raised to stop Kai from coming closer.

  “Well,” said Clarke, “this is incredibly awkward. Did you not tell her, Kai? Your boyfriend has been spilling your dirty secrets for months, Lara.”

  Lara nearly felt shocked, but realized she didn’t care. Their betrayals had only strengthened them. “And?” she said, talking steps forward. “I should be grateful. He only led me closer to finding you”—she smiled—“and killing you.”

  “Lara,” Lowri breathed, eyes flying to the board Lara had seen upon entering. “Clarke knows everything. He knows about—”

  “Shut up,” Clarke growled, striking Lowri across the face. Her chair nearly fell backward as she balked in pain, arms struggling against the hold of the rope. Cold, blistering anger flashed in Lara’s vision, and her fists clenched in rage.

  “Touch her again,” Lara said, enunciating each word, “and I’ll hurt you so bad—so unbearably bad that you will beg for death.”

  “Oh, Lara.” Clarke laughed deviously. “That won’t be happening.” He pointed a finger to his board, tracing each thread that linked one fact to another.

  “Do you see this?” he asked, pulling a photo from its tape. He showed it to Lara. It was a picture of Evelyn, her blonde hair projecting an aura around her face. “Another girl in Lithe—but I’m sure you know that already. Are you friends?”

  “No,” Lara lied. “I don’t know who that is.”

  Clarke stepped forward, crumpling the photograph in his hand. “I don’t like liars,” he spat. “And neither did my father. Who your friends killed, by the way. Have I mentioned that? He was murdered—his throat had been slit—and left beside Juilliard’s bell tower to rot. Lithe ruined my life—my childhood.”

  Lara rolled her eyes. Her temper begged for her to kill him, to tell him that yes she was in Lithe, but her mind convinced her otherwise.

  “That is why I’m doing this,” he said. “To take the revenge my father deserves. He was a great man, an incredible father, and look!” He pointed to the newspaper clippings on his board. “Look what happened to him! No man deserves to die that way.”

  A thought came to Lara’s mind as Clarke continued rambling, pulling pins from his board, ripping paper in the process. Lara looked to Kai, her eyes quickly darting from him to Lowri and then back to Clarke.

  Kai nodded in understanding.

  Clarke paid no attention to Kai as he moved across the concrete, for his mind was fixated only on the things pinned to his board.

  He’s gone insane, Lara thought. Truly insane.

  Kai stealthily neared Lowri’s chair, bringing a finger to his lips to say: Stay quiet. He circled around her chair, tugging on the rope that held her in place. Lowri stifled a whimper as Kai kneeled to her ankles, undoing the final knots.

  After a few painful moments, Lara watching Clarke as he faced away from her, Lowri was untied, holding on to Kai’s elbow for support.

  From the corner of her eye, Lara watched as Kai whispered into her ear. Lowri nodded, her hair ferocious and shiny against her sickly skin, and began to run.

  Clarke looked up at the sound of Lowri’s steps, eyes turning to slits as he watched her escape.

  “Fuck,” he yelled, angrily flipping his board over. He moved to chase after her, but Lowri had already turned a corner, away from Clarke’s lunacy.

  All at once, he charged at Lara like a lion hunting its prey, lips turned up into a sneer, but before he could reach her, she sidestepped him and lifted her elbow, jabbing it into the base of his neck. He groaned, falling to the floor.

  Kai ran up from behind Lara, forcefully stepping on Clarke’s hand. The bones crunched loudly—a sickening sound. Clarke breathed for a few seconds, collecting himself, then yelled as Kai grabbed his collar, pulling him from the floor and pushing him into the wall behind him.

  “Sick bastard,” Kai spat. “I always knew there was something wrong with you.”

  Despite the blood pouring from Clarke’s broken bones, he grinned. “Did you now?”

  Then, unexpectedly, Clarke shoved his skull into Kai’s face. Kai stumbled backward, shutting his eyes against the pain. He let out a sharp hiss as Lara ran over to Clarke and kicked him hard in the crotch.

  She looked to Kai briefly, but he’d fallen to the floor, eyes barely open. Clarke had hit him with such force that Kai’s consciousness slipped in and out, hanging by a thin strand of thread. Get up, Kai. Get up.

  “You slut,” groaned Clarke, crouching slightly in pain.

  “Never,” Lara hissed, “call a woman that again.”

  Clarke shoved Lara lightly but not enough to push her to the concrete. Lara smiled.

  “A woman or a bitch? I can’t tell the difference,” Clarke seethed. He charged at Lara once more, this time sidestepping to confuse her. She leaned toward him as he gripped her shoulder, shoving her to the floor—where Kai still lay. His hands wrapped around her neck, squeezing so hard that Lara’s vision blurred.

  “I’m going to kill you,” Clarke said and laughed, enjoying the sound of her desperate wheezes.

  Lara struggled against his grip, hands fluttering in a pitiful attempt to push him off.

  “Lara,” she heard Kai hiss. Lara couldn’t move her neck, but she heard the slide of a gun as it moved across the sidewalk. “The gun...” Kai’s voice went silent.

  Lara shot her hand out, reaching for the gun with everything she had. Clarke said nothing—only smiled at her effort. His fingers squeezed harder, the skin surrounding his knuckles whitening as he choked Lara into submission.

  But despite the pain in her arm, despite her struggling breaths, her hand met the gun, pulling it toward her body.

  Clarke’s eyes widened at the sight of the gun in her hand and he relinquished his grip—only slightly.

  Lara brought the gun to his forehead. “I’ll see you in hell,” she said, and then shot him there, in his skull, blood pouring onto her face.

  Clarke’s body fell limp, his weight pinning her down with the force of a thousand rocks. Blood continued to pour from the hole in his forehead as she shoved him off of her, gaping at Lara like a mouth open in fear.

  Lara crawled over to Kai, her elbows dragging across the cracked sidewalk. “Kai?’ she said, shaking him. His eyes fluttered open slowly as he coughed, wiping his forehead with his hand.

  “I’m here,” Kai whispered, breaths heaving from his chest in consolation. “I’m here.”

  Lara smiled. “Let’s go home.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “If you came to me with a face I have not seen, with a voice I have not heard, I would still know you. Even if centuries separated us, I would still feel you. Somewhere between the sand and the stardust, through every collapse and creation, there is a pulse that echoes of you and I.” ––Land Leav

  When Lara woke, the room was still dark.

  Kai was awake too. His finger idly traced the outline of her nose, down to the curve of her lips. When he realized her eyes had opened, his finger stopped right on the surface of her bottom lip. A smile formed on his mouth. Lara watched as old stains of blood cracked against his skin.

  “Hi,” he whispered.

  “Hi,” she whispered back.

  Her limbs were tangled in the silk of Kai’s white bed sheets, soothing her skin. He was next to her, propped on his elbow, finger still on her face like he couldn’t believe she was there before him, alive and whole.

  They were both dressed save for their shoes, for they had been too exhausted to do anything but sleep when they’d entered Kai’s unlit apartment, eyes heavy and bodies aching.

  Lara had called Ana before succumbing to her fatigue though, telling her where Clarke’s corpse had been left. Ana said she was already there
—that she and a few other girls had already begun burning his body.

  “What time is it?” Lara asked.

  Kai didn’t turn to check the clock on his nightstand. “Three in the morning, probably.”

  “Probably?” Lara said, laughing softly.

  Kai shrugged. “More or less. How did you sleep?”

  Lara sighed into his pillow, far more comfortable than her own at home. “My two hours of sleep were very nice, thank you. What about you?”

  “I slept fine,” Kai said quietly, though Lara suspected he hadn’t slept at all. His shirt was stained in blood, as was hers. They were covered in it, she realized, and she couldn’t tell who it came from.

  Clarke? Kai? Both?

  “I feel gross,” Lara said, sitting up in the bed.

  Kai sat up with her. They faced the wall, saying nothing.

  Then Kai broke the silence, saying, “Do you want to take a bath?” he asked. “Or a shower?”

  “A bath sounds nice,” whispered Lara. She didn’t step off the bed though. She barely moved, barely breathed.

  “I’ll start it for you,” he said, getting up and entering his connected bathroom. Lara got off his warm bed and followed him, her socked feet padding across the floor.

  The bathroom was painted a light blue—the color of the sky. Many things cluttered his sink—moisturizer, two tubes of toothpaste, combs, and other things she didn’t care to point out. It looked very much like Lara’s own bathroom.

  Kai turned the faucet on, pulling it to the very top. They both watched in silence as the water filled his tub, steam vaporizing from the surface.

  Kai faced Lara, watching as she breathed—in and out, in and out. She said nothing.

  When the tub threatened to overflow, Kai leaned over and turned off the knob.

  “There’s soap in the cabinet,” Kai said as he rose. “Shampoo, conditioner. Anything you need.”

  Lara nodded, gulping dry air. Before he could leave, she tugged at the bottom of her shirt, attempting to lift it above her head. Pain shot up through her body as she struggled against the fabric, groaning inaudibly.

  “Lara,” Kai said, laughing gently. “Do you need help?”