Seducing Virtue (Wicked Trinity Book 3)

by Courtney Lane

  My concern tugged up at the corner of his lips. “I’m not sure you’ve noticed, but I’m accustomed to the cold. I was made to be that way.”

  “H-how?” I lost sight of his eyes for a moment.

  A shadow cloaked his face as he slanted his head down momentarily. “My father made it his life’s goal to make me the strong man he envisioned. His tactics were…harsh.”

  “I—”

  “You haven’t stopped trembling.” He interrupted my need to be empathetic, in spite of all that I thought about him, and allowed his fingertips to graze down the side of my exposed neck. “Have you become so accustomed to the character I portrayed at Rebirth you think I’m going to do something to you? It’s been months since I took on that character. Reven isn’t making a return to harm you.”

  “How is it that everyone thinks you’re dead?” I blurted out my question and tried to step backward. His hold on the coat firmed, and pulled me nearer. “Noah claimed to have proof. None of this makes sense to me. I really liked the man you showed me. For the first time in a long time, I started to like someone and want to show them all of me—even the messed up parts.”

  I followed every flicker of his eyes as they softened. “Every day I spent with you, you made me feel…” He didn’t deserve to know how intense every time I spent with him felt or how I fantasized about our nights together. Having to hold back like I always did with everyone left me feeling bereft. I longed for the moments I could be myself and speak freely. It pained me to think it could never be that way again.

  “Liked? Are you positive you want to use that word to describe what’s between us?” The moment his warm fingertips began to grip my chin, I jerked backward and failed to escape him.

  He looped his arm around my back and leaned down to my ear. “None of the things I did to you at Rebirth will happen again. There’s no need for you to live in fear of what I won’t do.” He ran a curled finger up my cheek. “I’ll never hurt you again. You have my word.”

  Locking onto the hazel eyes of the man I had grown to know, I became entranced and reached up to move the lock of hair that always misbehaved and hid what didn’t need to be hidden.

  While there was so much familiarity, there were many new things. I’d seen and felt his body to know he’d practiced intense conditioning to increase the natural sculpting of an already well put together body, making him slightly bulkier than he was at Rebirth. His eyes weren’t as cold as they were in North Dakota. It was as though he had experienced his own rebirth. If Reven was a character, he played him well and made him seem real.

  It didn’t matter how attractive and entrancing he was. It mattered even less that he held me with a genuine warmth and smiled at me like he truly did care for me. He was the man who had a hand in my destruction. There was nothing to excuse or forgive about it.

  “How did you survive?” I questioned. “When I saw you…you were seconds away from dying.”

  “I believe Noah meant to bleed me at a deliberate pace to guarantee I suffered as I died. Jayme and Sander gave their lives to save mine.” Through the dark night, his hazel eyes were shimmering globes of promise and safety. “I wasn’t the Reven you knew at Rebirth in the beginning. Things changed for me when murder became a daily occurrence. I became numb. I became the character fully. I didn’t begin to falter in my role until you came along.”

  My mind spun in dizzying circles as I tried to make sense of the inexplicable. “Are you saying…you cared for me when I was at Rebirth? Because you had a funny way of showing it.”

  “I’m not sure why that’s in question with all that I’ve shown you since I returned.”

  “Everything is a question, because I don’t really know who you are.”

  “You want to think you had no inkling of my identity from the beginning? I think you did. I know in spite of everything that revealed the truth, you ignored it because you’d never felt more free than when you were with me. You showed me the stripped-down version of the woman underneath the facade. The nights I tasted you and was inside you, making you come hard, fast—continuously? There was no pretension between us.”

  My ability to formulate words was null. I stuttered and said nothing that made much sense.

  He leaned down and kissed me. My lips were unreceptive. The blazing intensity of his warm and supple lips caressing and possessing my mouth made sure I didn’t need to be present. A hand grasped the back of my head, tangling with my hair.

  My grip slipped up to his shoulders, fighting over pushing him away and bringing him closer.

  I opened my mouth, allowing his tongue to become a weapon that swiftly bled the emotions from me. The bite of the menthol, the heat of his wet tongue exploring my mouth, uncovered everything I’d tried to stow away in a place far away from the light.

  Thrusting myself back into my body again, I tore my lips from his. Drawing my hand back, I slapped him with all my fury and torment wielded in my hand. The impact reverberated up my arm, rendering my hand slightly numb.

  Braedan immediately let go of me. His head remained turned in the direction of the force, and he showed no signs of moving from his position. The red handprint marred his cheek, brightening with each thick and passing second.

  My body and mind became one and the same, and disclosed the damage Braedan had left behind. His power was like a bolt of lightening to the back of my head. Whether it was real or false, every part of me drew only one conclusion. My parents were no longer on the steps. The street was still and quiet. The neighbor’s home, who we stood in front of, was obviously unoccupied.

  I immediately bowed my knees, descending down onto the sidewalk with my head lowered. “I’m sorry. I’m not that kind of person. I never was until you and Noah—”

  Braedan grabbed my shoulders before my knees hit the concrete and pulled me up to stand. He stared at me, blinking very little. As he pressed his forehead to mine, a silken lock fell from its style and tickled my cheek. He released a heavy sigh. “Never do that again, and it’s not the slap I’m referring to.”

  I shook my head, recoiling from his hold. “I…I have to get back.”

  His fists clenched and almost extended to reach out for me, but he stopped himself, letting them rest on either side of his body. Jerking his head back toward my parents’ home, he directed me to leave. His stare was steady and unflinching, rendering me its source of interest.

  Understanding his nonverbal cue, I walked down the street and went back inside. I heard his footsteps, keeping their distance as he saw me back into the safety of my parents’ home.

  Shortly after closing and locking the front door, I peered outside the window.

  Braedan remained in front of the house for a few minutes. Appearing satisfied I made it safely inside, he turned and headed down the sidewalk out of my view.

  My jaw dropped, lacking the ability to make sense of anything.

  What did he want with me? Why did he do this to me? Why was he keeping up the act if it was all false? When would the ground barely holding me upright disappear?

  “Keaton, is everything all right?” my mother questioned, taking a break from cleaning up the dining room after dinner.

  I gave her a smile and a nod.

  She looked over Braedan’s sports coat, draped over my shoulders and to my hair. “Please tell me you two are using condoms.”

  “Mother,” I gasped, mortified she thought we’d somehow had sex on the street.

  “I remember how insatiable two people in love can be in the beginning.”

  I shook my head and headed up the stairs along the narrow corridor. “I’m…going to try and get some sleep. Good night.”

  My phone lit up with a text from Braedan halfway to my bedroom. What was once an anticipated habit moved me in a different way.

  Are you all right?

  My answer was simple:

  I might never be again.

  I dropped my phone face down on my bed, willing myself away from anticipating his response.


  In the bathroom, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Withstanding the view of my face for more than a few seconds was impossible. I barely recognized the woman looking back at me because she wanted someone she should never have desired.

  I turned my back on the mirror and slipped Braedan’s jacket from my shoulders onto the floor.

  MR. SERES FUMBLED around his house. I guess he called himself giving me a tour of the home even though I ignored him and didn’t bother to follow him. Hundreds of thoughts were running through my head, making me tick—making me need shit I hadn’t touched in years.

  I was growing impatient and the team I assembled was scattered and non-responsive. I hadn’t received a return call from Nadine or her lackey, Adam, in days. Something was going on and it wasn’t good. Nadine was under my spell, and she could never break it on her own. I used my contacts to find out if the police had caught up to them. Nobody knew anything.

  My list of contacts to get me where I needed to be were thinning out. They either didn’t respond or hung up on me. Threats of exposure weren’t enough to motivate them. I had to be in an alternate universe where everything I worked hard to gain was taken from me. It had to point to the new character in Keaton’s life. She would never have had the wherewithal to cross me the way she had, and continued to, without a guardian devil working against me.

  I had one little modicum of hope by way of an ignoramus named Syl; a pretty fucking sad state of affairs if I could only count on a man I recently seduced into my world. The minute I stepped across the threshold of my new and temporary base of operations, he called me, giddy over the surprise he had for me to get me out of my sour mood.

  I didn’t care that Adam and Nadine supposedly killed Keaton’s friend Sonja. I cared about how sloppily and carelessly it was done. At this point, it wasn’t about going against harming the innocent. Anyone who stood in the way of me gaining what I was owed wasn’t innocent—they were the devil’s messengers. With my blessings being taken away from me, I hoped whatever Syl had done would return God’s favor; it had been stolen from me and I knew why. I failed him by loosening my grip on Keaton and allowed her to escape. She needed to become acquainted with the real Noah; the man who once controlled Rebirth before the character of Reven became more powerful than I intended.

  Mr. Seres approached me, his hands shaking as he clutched them in front of his overly round belly and repeatedly ran a thick hand through his black and gray greasy hair. “H-how long do you think you will need this place?”

  “For however the fuck long I want it.” I jerked my head toward him, ending his line of questions with the intensity of my stare. “Why do you care when you wanted to sell it?”

  “Sometimes my wife comes here.”

  “Then I strongly suggest you stop her if she gets a wild hair up her ass to take a break from you. I can promise you, you won’t see her again if she turns up here.”

  His brown eyes shifted to the floor beneath us. “I’ll do whatever I can.” He fumbled in his pocket for the keys and handed them over. “It’s all the copies I have.”

  “Good.” As I watched Mr. Seres hobble out of the front door, my phone hummed with a message from Syl.

  I’m down the street. Is it clear?

  I texted him back:

  In five minutes it will be.

  I looked around what would be my new hub until I could gain control of my contacts and go forward with my plan to start a new kind of Rebirth. I was only short on capital and power. Keaton and her family would have to pony up the remainder of what I needed once I was able to get her back.

  Syl stumbled in the front door of the home, followed by a gang of people I thought I’d never see again. Tension took over every muscle in my body as I was prepared to teach Syl one final lesson on the spot, or listen to the quieter part of me, telling me he had something good up his sleeve.

  The men blended in with the business rush crowd of a big city. The women faded into the background in their dowdy style of dressing, covering themselves from head to toe in black. Usually, they wouldn’t be allowed anywhere outside of the compound. The special occasion piqued my interest.

  “It’s been a long time hasn’t it, Brother Noah?” said a bearded man standing at the head of the small crowd. “Do you recognize me? I’m Father Richie.”

  I gave the bearded man a tight grin. I couldn’t place his face, but a few of his features reminded me of a sycophant who had eyes for being my father’s right hand. I never stuck around to discover if it ever happened. “Even if I was still a member, I’m of age and no longer a brother.”

  “You’re the son of the founder, you’ll never be damned as an outsider. Besides”—he glanced down at my ringless hand—“you’re unwed, aren’t you?”

  “For now.” I turned a cutting glare at Syl, who wouldn’t stop simpering and dancing in place like he had to take a piss. “What’s the occasion?”

  “May we talk in private?” asked Richie.

  I glanced over the crowd of a dozen people, noting a woman dressed in scuffed up clothes with a potato sack covering her head and half of her shoulders. She was bound by the wrists and the ankles with cable ties.

  Richie noticed my interest and turned to me with a smile. “I once ran an evangelical church. A few misguided government officials decided my church needed to be infiltrated because they wrongly thought I embezzled funds and sexually assaulted my parishioners. My faith and status was renewed when I joined Magnus Oliver’s ministries, and he welcomed me with open arms.

  “Currently, the community is divided. I’m leading the core of our group in the interim. Few believe you should be the head, while many others believe the God-ordained leader should take over for Magnus.”

  “And what do you believe?” I asked.

  “I believe in you and our ability to help each other. The woman who has taken your attention is a goodwill present, and hopefully, will begin the start of a fruitful relationship.”

  “Oh?” Now I was very interested in the present they bought me.

  Richie nodded to the man now standing beside me. “Your friend Syl informed me of your troubles and what you intend to do. You want something we have the means to provide, and you have something you can provide us.”

  With an annoyed smile, I cast my eyes to the ceiling. “Maybe you didn’t hear, but your prophet, the one my father told you would bring you prosperity, good health, and blessings is dead. I killed him.”

  Something in the way Richie held up his cordial smile niggled at me. He knew something I didn’t. “There has been some movement in your parents’ accounts recently. Movement that makes us believe an unknown person is working in Shiloh’s stead, or perhaps he’s still alive.”

  “He’s dead. I killed him myself,” I confirmed, an edge growing to my mood.

  Richie’s glance landed on the woman in a hood behind him. “Or maybe you’ve been mislead?”

  Tired of the game, I moved my attention to Syl, who couldn’t erase the silly grin on his face. He was already in question. How he knew the people to get in contact with at the elusive high-ranking members of the Birth of a Prospering Nation was beyond me.

  “Say we’ve suddenly traveled to hell, where my brother likely is, if you find him, what do you want with him?” I asked Richie.

  “To re-train him, and put him where he rightfully belongs.”

  A smile tightened my cheeks. “And what if the impossible is possible, and you find him alive. What if you fail?”

  “We’ll do what you failed to do. We’ll return him back to the father, our God.”

  I knew the look well in Syl’s face, he was high. He had to have been to bring the crazies back into my life who believed in the impossible, and it seemed, continued to instill their faith in the insane and impractical. “What the fuck have I told you about keeping your head clear?”

  “I am. I am.” Syl jerked his shoulder up to his ear repeatedly and began to flush.

  “You mistake us.” Richie clasped his hand
s in front of him. “We tracked Syl down once we happened upon information to make us believe what we do.”

  “The guest you brought, I assume, has confirmed your suspicions?” I gestured to the woman.

  “We should reveal who we have brought in good faith to help establish a relationship.” Richie nodded to Syl, who scratched at his eye patch and grabbed the struggling woman from the middle of the crowd, and shoved her to the floor at my feet. She landed with a whimper.

  I crouched down, taking my sweet time to pull her hood from her head. When her scared eyes met mine, my entire point of view changed.

  The woman in front of me would single-handedly be the key to getting Keaton back where she belonged.

  AT THE RENAISSANCE Mayflower Hotel, the jazz band in the grand hall played a slow, rhythmic tune that could’ve been categorized as romantic. The ball centered around the roaring ’20s. Many of the women in attendance wore feathered head pieces and flapper style dresses. The men wore pinstriped double-breasted or vested suits with armbands.

  Proceeds from the charity ball would benefit my mother’s charity foundation, funded by her company, F.A.C.E. Cosmetics. The charity assisted women with self-esteem issues, or those who left volatile environments to receive training and rebuild their confidence. This year differed than previous years. My mother had underlying plans to seek endorsements and gain more sponsors for her senate run.

  I played my part and remained at my mother’s side, greeting the flood of people my mother knew with a warm smile and cordial conversation. Many regarded me with looks of pity. Underneath their words, offering sympathy, I could easily surmise they wanted to ask about my ordeal at Rebirth.