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Nexus

Page 17

by C. L. Parker


  “I assure you, if you learn to ride it, if you can just feel all that raw power between your legs and under your control, you’ll find it almost as pleasurable as if it were me between your legs instead. Almost. I might even be a bit jealous, but I’m willing to push it aside for a chance to see your thighs spread for my . . . Duck.”

  Oh, he definitely did not mean Duck.

  “You want to teach me to ride your motorcycle?” Tori asked, finally getting it.

  Damn, but she must have really zoned out during that entire conversation.

  He looked at her incredulously, but let the question on the tip of his tongue go unasked with a sigh. “Yes, I would very much like to help you overcome your fear. And like I said, I promise to keep you safe. I’ll be right there with you the whole time.”

  “Dante, I really don’t think . . .”

  He looked away, putting his hands on his hips with a shrug. “If the thought of learning to ride my bike is too scary, we can always go somewhere more private. And oh, I don’t know . . . maybe visit each other’s sanctuaries?”

  Tori’s eyes widened. No! No, no, no, no, no, no . . .

  Dante noticed. “Oh, so you don’t fancy that idea, either? Ouch, my wounded pride. First you don’t want to ride my bike, and now you don’t want to see my sanctuary? Those are the two most important things to me in the world, or at least were,” he said, not expounding further, “and for as long as I have drawn breath into my lungs, I have never offered either one up to another woman, but you want no part of them.”

  He backed away, and then turned toward his bike, picking up the tools he’d used to wash it that littered the driveway. Tori felt like an ass. She had hurt his feelings and he had done nothing but try to help her, in more ways than he was probably even aware.

  Tori looked at the bike, biting down on her lip in contemplation. Her sanctuary was a no-go, and if she let him take her into his, he’d expect her to reciprocate. So she was faced with a choice: become roadkill or let him see the atrocity that her sanctuary had become. Somehow, she knew her sanctuary would be an even more gruesome sight.

  Roadkill it was, then.

  “Teach me to ride your bike.”

  Dante looked at her over his shoulder. “No. You don’t really want to.”

  Tori sighed and went over to him. “You’re right. I don’t, but I also don’t want to toss away a gift that’s important to you, either. Besides, maybe you’re right. Maybe I do need to start facing my fears, and right now, learning to ride the motorcycle seems like a baby step in comparison to the other fears I need to conquer. So, since you promised you’d be with me the whole time and keep me safe, I’d be honored to have something so important to you between my thighs.”

  Dante shut the water valve off and turned toward her. He smiled, that bit of wickedness sparking in his eyes at her not-so-hidden innuendo. Yeah, she knew that would work.

  “Angel, I believe you just might be a devil in disguise.”

  He had no idea.

  Dante grabbed her around the waist, lifting her off the ground. Before she could protest his public display of affection, he kissed her, slipping his tongue between her parted lips. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to enjoy it. Kissing Dante was like being perched atop the peak of a rollercoaster and then plunging a couple of hundred feet just to be swooped up into a horizontal swirl. She didn’t know if she was coming or going, but she knew as long as he held her in his arms and kept kissing her, it didn’t matter. Much like that rollercoaster ride, the kiss was just as thrilling and just as short.

  Tori took a moment to catch her breath and steady her wobbling knees, both from the kiss and from what she was about to do.

  “I think we better get started on that lesson before I change my mind.”

  After a couple of mishaps while familiarizing herself with which handlebar was the gear shifter and which was the accelerator, Tori had the hang of riding. She had been so preoccupied with the directions Dante was giving to dwell on the fact that she was operating a piece of machinery that offered zip, zero, zilch protection. Before long, she had stopped thinking of the motorcycle as a death trap and more like riding on the back of a sleek panther that was agile and fierce—free to be as wild as she wanted to be.

  The sun was beginning to set, and with Dante on the back of the bike with his hands on her thighs—not the least bit distracting—Tori rode toward whatever destination Dante had picked out for their evening. She found herself smiling as the cool wind blew into her face and stole her breath. If she closed her eyes, which she most certainly did not do, she could imagine the breeze had sprouted fingers and was combing through her hair. She was completely at ease, even though she never would’ve thought it possible mere hours before. With the English countryside all around her and a smoothly paved open road before her, she could definitely see how one could become addicted to the sense of freedom riding gave. She was vulnerable, yet impervious to any danger with her personal guardian at her back hugging her hips and breathing in her ear.

  Before they reached the city limits of London, Dante pointed her toward a long, paved road through a tunnel of blossoming trees. She slowed to a comfortable speed that allowed her to take in what little she could see in the waning light. The sun had nearly set, with just a sliver of its orange glow still casting shadows across the vast expanse of the grounds.

  At the end of the road was a black iron gate, tall and stately, encased by a weathered structure that looked like a miniature castle.

  Tori pulled the bike to a stop in front of the gates and killed the engine.

  “Where are we?”

  She dismounted after Dante and craned her neck upward to take in the building that loomed before her with its ornate windows and intimidating towers.

  “This is one of London’s most prestigious cemeteries. Some very prestigious Brits are buried here, dating back to the early eighteen hundreds.” He took her hand and led her around the side of the building to an opening marked for employees only.

  “And why do you have a key?” she asked when he unlocked the door.

  “I come here quite often, so I may have been able to pull some strings. See, whilst you were busy making yourself even more gorgeous for me today, I had the pleasure of playing a round or two of poker with our fathers and Colton. Cheating bastards, they are, but what I learned made me a far richer man than winning the pile of quid on the table.”

  Tori laughed. “Oh, really? And what exactly did you learn?”

  “For starters, Dominic Grayson adores his family, and once he’s had a pint or two in him, he can’t seem to keep himself from going on and on about them. You should consider yourself lucky for the afternoon you had because I now know far more about Kerrigan’s abilities in the sack than I would’ve liked.”

  “Oh, ew!” Tori scrunched up her nose in disgust. “So you brought me here so that I could bury you alive and put you out of your misery?”

  Dante laughed. “Not quite. I rather enjoy waking up with you in my arms, and I simply must continue to breathe so that I can keep doing that. No worries, though, I also had to endure my father speaking about my mother in a way that was simply appalling. It was like he and Dominic were trying to outdo each other.”

  Tori stuck her bottom lip out into a pout and wrapped her arm around his to pet it lovingly. “Aw, poor baby.”

  As they talked, Dante continued to lead them through paved walkways, not stopping until the pavement ended and a dirt path began.

  “My godfather also talked about his daughter . . . a lot. You’re everything to him, you know? You and your mother. He’s so bloody proud of you. He kept going on and on about how special you are, your likes and dislikes, the kind of person you want to be. I’d wager you didn’t even realize how much he pays attention.”

  No she hadn’t. “I love him, too.”

  “Yes, well I listened with a finely tuned ear. I happened to learn that you have a fascination with all things paranormal.”

 
; Tori rolled her eyes. “Great, Dad. Way to make me look like a freak.”

  Dante chuckled and put his hand to the small of her back to guide her down the trail. It was a good thing, too, because the sun had completely disappeared over the horizon, leaving only sparse smatterings of moonlight to illuminate their path.

  “I suppose if that makes you a freak, then I’m one as well. London is full of history. It’s everywhere you look. And with history comes many that have passed over the ages. Like those prestigious Brits I mentioned earlier. I come here pretty often, hoping to catch a glimpse of some who might still linger on.”

  Tori arched a brow. “You brought me here to look for ghosts?”

  On the inside she was jumping up and down like a child in a toyshop who had just been told to pick out whatever toy she wanted—but she tried not to show it.

  “Unless you’re scared.”

  “Dante Dickens! If you think you can get me to do whatever you want just by insinuating that I’m a chicken, you are sorely mistaken, mister.” Tori punched him in the arm and he laughed.

  “It got you on the bike, didn’t it? And I was right; you do love it. Admit it.”

  “Fine, you were right. Are you happy now?”

  “Exorbitantly so,” he said, pulling her into his arms. “Now, how about we kiss and make up?”

  Tori shoved him away and took a step back and then another. “If you want a kiss, you’re going to have to earn it, pretty boy.”

  Dante smirked and walked toward her. “I’ll remind you that I not only allowed you to ride my Duck, but taught you how to do so as well. I think that justifies more than a kiss, don’t you?”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “Depends on how I have to earn it.”

  “Ever play hide-and-go-seek in a cemetery at night, Dante?”

  “Have you?”

  “Nope, but I think it could be fun.”

  “Do you, now? Want to know what I think will be fun, Angel?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Watching you writhe under my touch when I collect my reward, and I will do so at the time of my choosing. Run, Angel. Hide yourself well, but do try not to disturb the dead in the process.”

  With a bounce in her step, Tori took off. Thankfully, her eyes had adjusted to the darkness of night, allowing her to actually see where she was going even if it was only directly in front of her.

  The cemetery was a maze of pathways, one leading to two or sometimes even three. She took one and then another after another until she had strayed deeper and deeper into the vast expanse of grave markers and timeless statues. She had no clue where she was or how she was going to find her way back out again, which meant she might very well have to let Dante find her after all.

  Tori stopped for a breather and looked around in amazement. This cemetery was nothing like the ones she had seen back home. It was like stepping inside the pages of a Brothers Grimm tale. She wasn’t completely convinced that a fairy, a gnome, or an elf wouldn’t come hopping out from behind the headstones at any moment. Just, please, don’t let it be a werewolf. A raging infestation of fleas was the last thing she needed.

  Prolific trees of ash and sycamore canopied the grounds from high overhead, bindweed encircling their trunks and climbing up their limbs to fill in the gaps. Beams of the moon’s light streamed down like gentle fingers and English ivy covered the land and dilapidated headstones, both acting as a blanket that provided comfort to the dearly departed in the absence of their loved ones. Cement statues, aged by time, stood as testament to the deceased’s legacy; the likeness of a favored pet, a piano to signify a life’s work, an angel sleeping peacefully, and crosses in every variation to ward off evil. The ambiance was certainly perfect for ghostly apparitions. This was their home. Somehow it seemed wrong for tour tickets to be sold so that the living could view the dead like they were anomalies on display.

  A low-lying fog rolled along the grounds, thicker in some areas like a milky pool of water. It was eerily quiet except for the occasional rustle of leaves and the chirping of whatever insects called the cemetery their home.

  Tori slowly walked along the pathway, her eyes and ears keen to any sign of movement. A chill kissed her skin like death was making its greeting, and goose pimples canvassed every inch of her in an attempt to keep it out.

  For no reason at all, dread gripped Tori, and her heart began to pound in her chest. She looked around, sensing someone or something there. She knew the feeling that overcame her. It was the same feeling she had when she knew the demons were coming in her dreams, a foreboding and distinct sense of evil that blackened and eclipsed everything innocent and good.

  “Victoria . . .” a ghostly voice whispered on the breeze behind her. It wasn’t Dante’s.

  Tori spun around, only briefly catching a glimpse of a figure in black out of the corner of her eye. When she looked again, there was nothing there. Just a figment of her imagination, she convinced herself. She walked a bit farther, and she heard an ominous laughter resonate from no point in particular. She turned to her right and then to her left, finding nothing. Looking straight ahead again, she saw him. Standing in front of a large cross with his hands tucked in his pockets. The moonlight caught his eyes and gave off a prismatic effect for only a moment before he was gone.

  “Why are you hiding from me?”

  “Who says I’m hiding?”

  The voice was definitely behind her this time. She turned, coming face to face with the man from her dreams.

  “Hello, beautiful. Miss me?”

  Tori’s breath hitched as she searched her mind frantically. He grabbed her and kissed her hard on the lips, but she pushed him away.

  He looked heartbroken when she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, but she couldn’t feel bad for him. For whatever reason, he’d been stalking Tori through the graveyard, which didn’t set well with her. Plus, her thoughts immediately flashed to Dante and what he might think if he saw her in another man’s embrace.

  Catalogue that for yet another thing to consider later.

  “How are you even here? I’m not asleep.”

  He smiled, reaching to tuck her hair behind her ear. “I’m here because you want me to be. Though, I find that hard to believe when you’ve been trying so hard to avoid me.”

  “What are you talking about? I’m not avoiding you.”

  “My patience with your new friend is wearing very thin. Lose the freak, Tor. We can’t be together if he’s around, and I won’t let him keep you from me.” His voice was menacing, his glare cold and angry.

  “Dante?”

  He grabbed her arm roughly. “Don’t say his name around me!”

  Tori jerked her arm out of his grasp and furrowed her brow. He had never behaved like that with her before.

  “What’s your problem?”

  The expression in his eyes softened and he reached for her, but she backed away. “I’m sorry,” he said. “You just don’t know how much it kills me to know that you’re spending so much time with him, letting him do things to you.”

  “He is not doing anything to me, and that’s really none of your business anyway.” She turned her back on him and started to walk away.

  He growled low in his throat, and it stopped Tori in her tracks. “You lie. I see everything, and now I can be everywhere. I won’t let him ruin what I’ve worked so hard for. I’ll see him dead first. Time is running out for us, Tor. Get rid of the loser and come to me, or things are going to get really ugly, really fast.”

  Tori turned on him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Trust me. You don’t want to find out.” With those final words, he disappeared into the darkness.

  “Come back here!” she whispered harshly, not wanting Dante to hear her because then she really would look like a raving lunatic. She turned around and around, but she couldn’t find him anywhere. “Where are you?”

  There was no reply, so she walked down the path toward the place where she had first
seen him standing. She looked behind the gravestone, but he wasn’t there. He wasn’t anywhere.

  To her right there was a sound. She turned in that direction finding nothing but more headstones, but the fog had cleared in one spot like something had parted it with no discernible trail. Tori took a closer look, nearly swallowing her tongue when a fracture broke the ground and spread like veins from a central point. She was too scared to scream, too panicked to look away, and too frozen to run.

  A bony hand punched out of the ground and grabbed her ankle before she could get away. She screamed out in terror, pulling and tugging against the hold of the undead hand, but its grip was too strong. It squeezed with a near-bone-crushing intensity, and then it started to pull back, knocking her off balance until she fell to the ground.

  “Dante!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.

  “Hey, hey, hey . . . what’s all this, Angel?”

  Dante was by her side, one hand on her captured leg and the other stroking her hair in a soothing motion. He looked down at her ankle and then smiled back up at her.

  “Got yourself tangled up in a tree root and vines, have you? Got to be careful of those nasty buggers. The place is littered with them.”

  Tori looked down as well, finding what he said to be true. The moment he freed her of the entrapment, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. “Take me home, Dante.”

  He rubbed her back and rocked to and fro. “You’re shaking. That must have given you a real fright.” He chuckled as if he was trying to alleviate her fear and then pulled back to look at her. “Did you think the dead had come to life and tried to take you underground with them?”

  Tori shook her head. “Of course not; that would be silly. I just couldn’t get my foot untangled, and it was dark, and . . . and now I’m all dirty, so I just want to go home.”

  “All right, Angel.” He stood and hoisted her up to stand. “Can you walk?”

  Tori put weight on her ankle. It felt a little tender, but she was okay to walk on it. She nodded, but let him put his arm around her and tuck her into his side for support as they started back toward the entrance.

 

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