Aroused by his fervent possessiveness, she elevated her chin. He loved her so much that he’d kill, not only to protect her life, but to protect her modesty too, and he didn’t make false promises. Raven was a killer by trade and could put a bullet in a man just because he wanted to and he’d never think twice about it or regret the decision he made.
Brodie was her man, but Raven had killed based upon her signal and he’d do it again. Having power over life and death by proxy was intoxicating, not because she craved murder or enjoyed death, but because it was the ultimate, final power. Raven trusted her enough to give her influence over his kill decisions and knew she would never exploit him.
In the past, she’d been the object at the end of his scope, giving him something to aim at, but she never doubted his ability. Standing in target range with the barrel of his rifle pointed in her direction proved her epic trust in him. One slip, one accident, and she’d be no more. But even if she taunted him, he’d never risk her life. When he stood watch over her with his gun trained on someone maybe only an inch from her, she never worried for her safety.
Goading him, she showed no fear. “Maybe I’ll let him touch me just to test your resolve.”
His brows rose, but his eyes remained narrow proving he was getting riled. “You think I’m blowing smoke?” he asked, increasing the strength of his grip on her throat to force up the angle of her head farther. “Try it, baby, please. It’ll be like Christmas come early for me. You remember what happened to the last man who tried to kiss you?”
Tim Sutcliffe. Albert Sutcliffe’s nephew. He’d been kissing her when Brodie put a bullet in his head, and that was her introduction to the Kindred.
“You’re a dirty, base animal,” she sneered, but her disgust was a mask for the pulse of arousal his rough grip provoked in her.
“One who will be watching every move you make tonight, hear me? You belong to me. You go where I say. Do what I tell you to. If you dance just the way I want you to, I’ll let you come home and ride my cock as a reward.”
She loved it when he snarled dirty words at her, but her role was to flout his intimidation and so that’s what she did. “Don’t do me any favors,” she said and tried to pull away his arm, but he slammed her back against the wall. Air left her lungs on impact, and she had to gasp in to fuel her lust. “Turning me on and sending me to him, is that your plan?”
His teeth clenched and he got even closer. “You better be thinking of me when you’re flirting with him,” he said, keeping one hand around her throat while the other pushed her hair from her face on its journey to the back of her skull. “You want him to think you want it, don’t you?”
Damn, he was good. Her nerves were gone and her complete focus was on her man, who was here in front of her, holding her against this wall, proving his dominance over her in a way he knew would stimulate her. Walking into this meeting horny was the best way to convince this guy that she was interested in him for real. Men were blinded by sex and if she could make Ben believe that she wanted something more than friendship, he’d be more inclined to answer her questions.
“That is the plan isn’t it,” she said, trying to disguise her arousal, though he knew her too well to mistake it.
“There’s only one man on the face of this earth who can stimulate you. If you need any guy to think you’re horny, you better pull up some of that material I give you when I fuck you hard and dirty.”
Struggling in his grip only made him hold tighter, so she went limp. “My mind’s drawn a blank,” she said, pressing her palm to the erection pulsing through his jeans. “Give me a refresher.”
She gulped in the air that filled the void between them before the thick insistence of his tongue pried her lips apart. She was sure that they were going to get it on here in the motel room, while she was supposed to be on a date with another man, until the horn blared outside the window again and Brodie ripped his mouth away.
“I’ll be there and set up before you get there,” he said, kissing her again. He was going on his bike, so he wouldn’t have to wait for anything inconvenient like traffic. Having him in position was her most valued security. Somehow he knew that without her being explicit about her need to have him there watching over her. Pulling her away from the wall, he spun her to face the door and smacked her ass. “Get going before I tie you down.”
Doing as she was told, she didn’t look back. The cab driver was just that, but she didn’t want to give any indication that she wasn’t alone in this motel room, just in case. She got into the vehicle, gave the address of the bar, and then she was on her way.
The pendant necklace she wore would allow the men to see what was going on in the bar and she had an earpiece in, but hadn’t yet heard a whisper from Tuck or the others. He’d told her he would activate it when they saw her going in. But the reality was they couldn’t communicate. She was going to engage Ben and after she did, all she would be able to do was listen when it came to the Kindred.
The glass-fronted tavern was less than five blocks from the motel, and she could probably have walked. But Brodie had insisted on a cab. She had paid the driver and was about to enter when she heard the crackle in her ear, then Brodie’s voice came through. “I’m right there with you, baby.”
Opening the barroom door, she was hit with humid air and the medley of a pop song. The place was busy but entirely unthreatening. It was a light space filled with tables and pop art. It couldn’t be further from the atmosphere of Purdy’s. But she wasn’t here to make comparisons. She was here to make a connection. So she made her way to the bar and ordered a white wine spritzer.
Art didn’t have to be in her ear because he was in her head, telling her not to drink too much. She took a seat on a stool and let her eyes peruse the bar. She’d been told to seat herself in the Kindred’s field of vision and to let Ben come to her. Under no circumstances was she to go to where Ben was seated. They didn’t suspect she was being setup, but preferred to assume that they were until proved otherwise. Seating herself and waiting for him to come to her let her be the driver and they needed her to be in an optimum spot that allowed her cohorts to see her.
When she scanned around, she noticed Ben at the end of the bar around the curve. Her pulse jacked up when he made eye contact with her. Dropping her gaze, she took a breath and looked up again, yes, he was still looking at her.
She managed a smile and then took her attention to the opposite end of the bar. She didn’t want to be too eager and if she played it right, he would approach her as they wanted him to. The light inside made it difficult for her to see anything out of the large windows at the front of the building because there was nothing but night beyond them. But the Kindred would be able to see inside and that was the most important thing. With that thought, she closed her eyes and sipped her drink.
Touching the pendant on her necklace, she made a silent plea for reassurance. “We’re here, baby,” Brodie said into her ear and the sound of his voice made the hairs on her forearm stand up. “We can see you. Can’t take my eyes off you, you’re the hottest thing in the room.”
Brodie was being kind by flattering her. Tuck gave her the facts. “If you go any farther into the place we’ll lose visual,” Tuck said.
The Kindred were in a first-floor space on the opposite side of the street. This bar was long and there was a dance floor in the back near where the restrooms were. But if this was as far as the Kindred could see then she had no intention of venturing deeper inside.
Glancing around, she was going to check out if Ben was still looking at her. Her equilibrium tilted when she realized he was no longer seated where she’d seen him before. All of her apprehension whooshed out of her and was replaced by a fear that she’d failed before she had even started.
But before she could leap up and exclaim her apologies, someone slipped onto the stool beside hers. Ben. “You’re new around here,” he said, and his grin made her laugh.
“Yes,” she said on an exhale. “Yes, I am. Th
anks for meeting me.”
“Would you like to dance?”
It could just be his way of putting her at ease, or maybe he was just trying to make friends, but she couldn’t think of anything she wanted to do less than dance. “Oh no,” she said, losing her smile. “Oh, no, no, I don’t, I mean…”
“It’s ok,” he laughed and pushed his drink toward hers as he edged nearer. “It’s not a requirement. I just… you look like a dancer.”
“Oh,” she hissed in a breath and scrunched her expression. “That’s only a whisker away from, ‘Do you work out?’ Is that a line you use on all the women you meet here?”
His smile broadened and his dimples provoked her to reciprocate. The picture Tuck had given her made Ben look boyish, but in the present, the charcoal tee shirt he was wearing revealed definition in his arms and the physique she’d initially written off as average was far more impressive up close.
“Too cheesy?” he asked.
“Just a tad.”
His dimples receded and he looked her in the eye with sincerity. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but I’m glad you reached out to me.”
She relaxed and drank again. “I’ve been thinking about our conversation by the lake and… I thought we could maybe… get to know each other a bit better.”
His hand came toward her and she realized she’d walked into her own cheesy line. When she relented a smile, he joined in. “I hope you don’t use that line on all the guys.”
“I don’t use any lines,” she said with a tsk and a look of mock offense because their banter seemed to be relaxing them both and that was just how she wanted him: pliable. “Do I look like the type who goes trawling for men?”
His smile got even bigger and the grooves in his cheeks returned. “Hey, if I knew what that type looked like I wouldn’t have spent so many nights alone recently,” he said before pouring more beer down his throat.
A couple vacated a table nearer the door and so she slipped off her stool. “Well at the risk of sounding too forward, do you want to get a table?”
He noticed the vacant table too and nodded. They got up and Ben followed her to their new seats, which were nearer to the Kindred and to the exit, which for her was a double bonus. Once they were seated, there was a moment of silence and she began to squirm when Brodie spoke.
“Atta girl, Swallow, I’ve got a perfect line of sight.” Brodie praised her for seeing the opportunity and taking it. But where her honor was concerned, she wasn’t sure she trusted Brodie’s trigger finger not to get twitchy. He’d never hurt her, but her date wasn’t safe. All she could do was trust Swift to keep Raven reined in.
The quicker she did her job, the quicker she could get out of here and breathe easy again. “So, Ben,” she said, moving things along. “How is work?”
Her brows rose as she made eye contact. Starting with the benign subject of his work life allowed him to relax. It wasn’t as confrontational or suspicious as a bunch of Sutcliffe questions being her opening gambit.
He wrapped both hands around his beer glass. “My work is much less glamorous than I’m sure you think it is.”
She hadn’t thought physical therapy was glamorous, but she didn’t correct him. Insulting him upfront would be a rookie mistake. So she prompted him to keep talking. “You must meet interesting people.”
“The people are what make the job worth doing,” he said. “Everyone has a story and it’s a privilege to share their journey of rehabilitation with them.”
“Do you have any interesting patients at the moment?” she asked and listened with as much interest as she could muster while he told her about a few patients he was working with. Both of them were dancing around the real purpose for their meeting. She would guess that he didn’t want to appear to be rushing her any more than she wanted to rush him.
“People are often so grateful,” he said after telling her about a third patient. “They don’t realize that it’s them who do the hard work. I’m just there to guide and facilitate what they need.”
“You’re modest,” she said.
The dents in his cheeks deepened again and he glanced at their empty glasses. “Would you like another drink?”
She nodded, and he took their glasses to the bar, leaving her alone. “This isn’t working,” she murmured, glancing down at the table to hide her words.
“It is,” Tuck said. “You’ve got him on the hook. You’re a natural. You’ve just got to steer the conversation to Sutcliffe.”
“Any suggestions?” she asked. She was getting better at this ventriloquist thing of talking without moving her lips. “Should I just come out with it?”
She’d said she wanted to get to know him, implying that she wanted to be friends and to be comfortable with him before making her decisions about Sutcliffe. Quizzing him on the cult and its leader seemed heavy handed. But if Ben brought up the Brit then she could segue into her questions.
“Ask him about the future,” Tuck said. “His future is with Sutcliffe, right?”
Talking about the future was a good plan, and she had the time to think about how to approach it before he came back with the drinks. She craved the sound of Brodie’s voice, but it was silent in her ear and she was preoccupied with his mood. With his grief over Art, he’d had a tough enough time of late. The last thing he needed was to watch her flirting with another guy.
“It’s getting busier,” Ben said, when he sat down again. “There’s no space on the dance floor.”
The music had gotten louder and faster, she surmised that the music got more upbeat as the revelers got drunker. Then it probably slowed down again at the end of the night, to calm people, and to give the men a chance to make a move on those they’d met.
“Do you like to dance?” she asked, keeping conversation easy.
“I like music,” he said. “But I guess I just like to see people having fun.”
“Is that why you frequent this place?” she asked, scanning the room. “It’s welcoming.”
“Yes, it is.”
“A guy like you with a good job and a sense of humor. Why aren’t you married?”
He laughed. “Just haven’t met the right woman I guess,” he said. “It’s on my agenda. I’m ready to settle down. I’m getting too old for the dating scene.”
“I know what you mean,” she said and sipped her drink. “Is that why you got involved with Sutcliffe? You think he will help you settle down?”
He smiled and took a deep breath. Zara was glad he didn’t look hesitant or suspicious. “I’m glad you brought it up. I was avoiding talking about Albert because I didn’t want you to think I was trying to convert you.”
Score one for her. He wanted to talk about Sutcliffe and she wanted to listen. “I’m curious,” she said, thinking about what Grant had said about considering Sutcliffe’s cause. But she didn’t want to come across as too easy and so in a nod to her reluctance by the lake, she repeated her misgivings. “I can’t deny that. I’ve been thinking about our conversation and… I’m worried about you. I don’t know if you understand who Sutcliffe is.”
“You’re going to try and convert me?” he asked, and although that sentiment was extreme, his smile kept her from panicking. “You know so much about me, tell me about you. Have you been married?”
“Me? No,” she said, shaking her head. “No, I come from this small little town and my friends all hooked up young. Now they have kids who go to the same schools that we went to and I… I was always surprised at how easy it was for them to settle. We’ve got to experience life before we can settle down, right?”
“Yes,” he said. “How else can you know what you want unless you’re open to new things?”
“My father wanted me to stay in town and marry the boy next door. I disappointed him by going to college instead of staying home and doing chores.”
“How does he feel about your decision now?”
“I don’t talk to him much,” she said. “I think he’d rather pretend I didn
’t exist. I was the flighty one with a warped view of my position in the world.”
“What position is that?” he asked, tilting his head and when she made eye contact, she was sure she blushed at his intent gaze. He was interested in what she had to say and for a few seconds she was flummoxed because she didn’t want the romantic attention of this man, yet here he was being the perfect date.
Being honest was the best approach, she didn’t know what intel Sutcliffe had on her and she had enough to remember without keeping track of lies about her past too. “I had grand notions of being a part of something bigger, of making a difference in the world.”
“Had?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. “You don’t have those notions anymore?”
Tipping her head one way and then the other, she explained. “Between college and working, I think I’ve finally come to realize that the world doesn’t need me to save it.”
“Someone has to,” he said. “Don’t you think the world is on a dangerous path?”
Red flags began to pop up and wave, which was a familiar part of dating for her. Except this time, the warning lights were welcomed. They were her whole purpose for being here. “Oh, I think it is,” she said, thinking about everything she’d learned since getting involved with the Kindred. “But what can I do about it? I’m just one person.”
His smile was slow to creep up, but when it finally fixed in place, she knew she had him, even though the smile was caused by his belief that he’d found an open door. An avenue he could use to persuade her of the merits of his cause. “One person can make a difference,” he said. “If they join forces with other likeminded people.”
Ben didn’t seem to have Sutcliffe’s delusions of grandeur. In fact, he was one of the most down to earth people she’d ever met. By getting her to talk about herself, he was effectively doing what she was trying to, easing her into a place of security and using her history to bond with her. This was a complex dance and she wondered if he was aware of the different masks she wore behind this one she was showing him.
Swallow (Kindred Book 2) Page 22
