Blood Heart

by Lexi C. Foss

  “What are you doing to me?” she whispered.

  His mouth went to her ear. “I’m learning your limits, sweetheart. Now let’s get some sleep.”

  17

  A Self-Guided Tour

  Memory implants are complete. Surrogates to be provided detailed reports for future interactions.

  —Entry Log 118.02.4-7

  Lizzie woke to Jayson speaking Italian.

  A peek through her thick lashes showed Flirty Skirt had returned. She had her hip popped against Jayson’s armrest. His chair was upright while Lizzie lay curled in a ball on her flat-bed seat, and he seemed very alert.

  The flight attendant blushed at whatever he said, and nodded. He fished his phone out of his pocket, murmured something sexy, and handed it over for her to type into. Which she did while smiling triumphantly.

  Lizzie observed the exchange through narrowed eyes. Apparently, this was why he agreed to sightseeing and staying a little longer. He hadn’t been able to sleep with the woman on the plane, so he was making other arrangements.

  It shouldn’t hurt.

  But it did.

  They weren’t even dating, and he’d been clear about the purpose of their relationship, but why flirt with Lizzie? Unless she’d misread all his signals. Her experience in these matters was minimal at best.

  He mentioned something about Balthazar as he returned the phone to his pocket, causing Lizzie to arch a brow. Tristan implied that Jayson enjoyed sharing women—was that what he meant?

  Her stomach turned over.

  They hadn’t revisited their conversation from the other afternoon—the one where she learned about his penchant for bedding more than one woman at a time. And they’d yet to discuss his friend’s comments from the party, either.

  She clearly misread all his signals. One moment she swore he liked her, and the next, she was a mission again.

  I need to get off this plane.

  Lizzie sat up to check the flight monitor on her screen—one hour left. Good.

  Jayson said something about her in Italian now, which caused the flight attendant to nod eagerly before scampering off.

  “Rebekah is bringing you breakfast,” he murmured.

  Lizzie didn’t acknowledge him as she shifted her bed upward into a chair. She tucked her legs beneath her and finger-brushed her hair, all while feeling his eyes on her.

  Apparently, he expected a response.

  Fine.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  That’s not petulant at all, Liz.

  Screw you.

  “That’s too bad since you’ll be eating anyway,” he replied. “We’ll be doing a lot of walking today, and I’ll need you well fed for that.”

  She finally looked at him. Amusement radiated from every edge of his face. “And where will we be walking?”

  “That depends on what sights you have in mind. I could provide a historical tour, if you’re interested. Not the one provided by regaling tour guides, but one depicted from actual events.” A boyish charm flirted with his features as he awaited her reply.

  “You really want to show me around?”

  “Of course I do. I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t.”

  Maybe his plans with Flirty Skirt were for after their day of sightseeing. Lizzie could attempt to exhaust him to the point of poor performance, though she didn’t know if a man like Jayson ran out of energy.

  Unwanted emotion poked her in the chest.

  She had no right to be jealous. Sure, he kept touching her, but he also openly flirted with the flight attendant and exchanged numbers with the woman.

  That was neither a faithful man nor one who would ever be interested in Lizzie.

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked, confused. “Is it because you feel bad or something?”

  He turned toward her. “Do I really need a reason for wanting to have fun with you?”

  She stared at him. “You would have fun?”

  He grinned. “Oh, undoubtedly. Probably more than I should, but as I’ve already broken all the rules with you anyway, what’s a little exploration to add to the list?”

  She frowned. “Rules? What rules?”

  “Luc is a fan of edicts,” he replied vaguely. “Now stop changing the subject and tell me where you want to go when we land.”

  His chocolate gaze pinned her in place, compelling her to comply.

  Sightseeing could be fun… And he was right about the advantages of having a guide who walked the streets a thousand years ago. Two or three thousand, even.

  How will I ever wrap my head around all this? she wondered.

  Oh. The purpose of his request hit her smack dab between the eyes.

  He was offering her a distraction. Because he pitied her, or something else?

  Does it matter? No. She welcomed the reprieve with open arms.

  “Uh, well, I’ve seen all the traditional points of interest, but it’s been a while.” She went with her parents about ten years ago? Her memories of that trip were foggy at best, reminding her more of a dream than a true experience. “Is there anywhere you recommend?”

  He considered. “You’ve already seen Rome, right?”

  “About a decade ago, but yeah.”

  “Did you visit Pompeii?”

  She frowned. “That’s not in Rome.”

  “I’m aware of that.” He reached over to tug on a strand of her hair hanging near her breast. “Have you been?” he asked as the back of his hand skimmed her breast. If it was intentional, he didn’t show it, but her body reacted anyway.

  She forced herself to shake her head since her suddenly dry mouth no longer understood English. Because no, she’d never been. Her mother preferred shopping and fashion to archaeological sites.

  “Then we’ll head south for a day trip, have some Neapolitan-style pizza, and spend the night in Rome, if that’s your preference.” He let go of her hair and brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “You blush so prettily, Red.”

  Flirty Skirt chose that moment to return with the breakfast tray. No doubt well-timed on the flight attendant’s part.

  Jayson’s hand fell to Lizzie’s shoulder as he addressed the woman in English. “Thank you, Rebekah.”

  She replied in Italian as Lizzie busied herself with the table. She accepted the tray with a forced smile and muttered a “Thank you.” Her mother taught her to be polite in all circumstances, this one notwithstanding.

  Jayson’s thumb traced the column of Lizzie’s neck as he asked for two cups of coffee. Again in English. When he requested two sugars and a cream for Lizzie, her eyes widened. That was her preferred way to drink coffee, but they’d never shared a cup together.

  “How did you know how I take my coffee?” she asked as the brunette wandered off.

  “Observation,” he murmured, his thumb circling her pulse point. “I’ve learned a lot about you these last two months—not in a stalker way but in a security-detail sort of way.”

  “Bodyguards need to know how their charges take their coffee?”

  He smirked. “Perhaps not, but you stop by that coffee shop on Broadway every day before work.”

  Lizzie’s eyebrows popped up. “You followed me?”

  “Yes.” No shame, just a straight response. “I wanted to see where and when the CRF intervened in your life.”

  “And did they?”

  “Only once a month.”

  She frowned. “When?”

  “Brunch,” he replied. “Let’s discuss it more after you eat. We’ll be landing soon, which means you need to hurry up.”

  She wasn’t so sure she wanted to eat at all now. “Brunch?” she repeated. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “How about you work on that omelet while I explain.” He worded it as a suggestion, but his tone indicated it to be a demand, not a request.

  A compromise. Okay. She could agree to that even if the idea of breakfast didn’t appeal to her.

  Lizzie sliced off a piece of egg and, with a raised eyebrow, put it
into her mouth.

  Jayson grinned, appeased, and dropped his hand to the armrest between them. “All right, I’ll tell you what we know, but I’m warning you right now that it’s not much.”

  *

  “A brothel,” Lizzie said, her brow furrowed. “With a rock bed.”

  Jayson chuckled. “It kept the men from lounging around afterward.”

  She studied the small, preserved room of Pompeii and nodded. “I wouldn’t want to lie there, either.”

  Their little venture to this archaeological site served as the perfect distraction from their conversation on the plane. Of course, every few minutes, Lizzie would mutter something about how unreal this all was, especially since Jayson possessed intimate knowledge of the former Roman city.

  She ran her fingers over the walls before exiting into the sunshine. Her red hair glimmered alluringly, but it was her new outfit that captivated his attention.

  Fitted jeans, black boots, and a flowy top.

  Sexy. As. Fuck.

  Lizzie picked up the outfit at the airport while he arranged transportation. It’d taken all manner of restraint to travel here instead of finding a boutique hotel with a decent bed. Even now he wanted to pull her into one of the less populated sections, push her up against a stone wall, and devastate her mouth.

  He clasped his hands behind his back instead.

  “Does this place bring back memories?” she asked softly.

  He shrugged. “It was primarily a trading port, so I never spent much time here. I preferred Rome.” For a variety of reasons, but mainly for the women.

  “No time in the brothel?” The teasing quality of her voice seemed forced, as did her smile.

  “Do you really want the answer to that, Red?” He meant it as a taunt but also as a lesson. Don’t ask for details you don’t really want to know. He suspected that would be an issue between them given his age and her innocence. It was a challenge he wanted to overcome, but he didn’t quite know where to begin. Or why he even felt the need to try.

  “Probably not.” Her gaze went to the ground. “Never mind.” She picked up the pace, but he caught her hand and tugged her back to his side.

  “Where are you running off to?” He linked their fingers and forced her to slow down.

  “I wasn’t, I mean, I just—”

  “To answer your question,” he said, interrupting her, “I don’t pay for pleasure.” He let that sink in before adding, “So, no, I did not waste any time in that brothel.”

  “Oh, I didn’t mean…” She trailed off as color brightened her beautiful face.

  “Yes, you did,” he replied softly. And he couldn’t really blame her. They had barely covered the surface of his experience, something that no doubt intimidated her, and rightly so. Still… “I can’t apologize for my history, Liz.” He squeezed her hand. “But I can try a new approach for our future.”

  She stumbled—something easy to do on the stone road, but he suspected his words were the true cause.

  “Our future?” she repeated.

  “Yes.” He started to smile, when the hairs along his arm danced in warning.

  Gunmetal.

  Jayson’s gift engaged on instinct alone, mentally grabbing the incoming bullet and dropping it to the ground long before it reached him.

  A sniper. His location up in the hills gave him a perfect view of Via dell’ Abbondanza, which meant Lizzie and Jayson needed to get off the main street. The former residences and shops surrounding them provided an ideal place to play hide-and-seek.

  Jayson sensed two approaching handguns paired with blades.

  Sentinels on the ground about a hundred yards out. He didn’t bother searching for them. A battle among the tourists would result in unnecessary fatalities.

  Only one option: run.

  Jayson wrapped his arms around Lizzie and pulled her backward into a restricted area of Pompeii.

  “What—”

  “Sentinels,” he explained as he yanked her between a pair of stone pillars and darted for another set. The way he forced her about would have caused a scene if anyone could see them. Fortunately, this area was roped off to the public and masked by ancient walls.

  Thank fuck for preservation.

  His back slammed into an old doorway as he subtly dismantled the Sentinels’ guns with his mind. They were still close, but scattered, and wouldn’t notice his meddling—something Jayson would use to his advantage as needed. He fucked with their knives for good measure as well and checked for anything else they could use as weapons from afar.

  “Jayson,” Lizzie breathed, her nails digging into his forearms.

  “Sorry, Red,” he murmured, easing his hold. He’d grabbed her harder than he meant to—a reaction to the approaching weapons. “We need to go.”

  “H-how do you know—”

  “Guns,” he replied quickly. “Now follow me.” He grasped her hand and tugged her toward a side exit that was clearly not part of the original architecture.

  His ability continued to scan for metal associated with gun power as he pulled a phone from his pocket. He’d texted Luc with an update when they arrived and also sent a message to Jacque to remain on standby.

  Jayson had suspected the CRF would arrive and ruin their little field trip at some point, hence the necessary backup plan.

  Jacque picked up on the first ring. “Yo.”

  “The CRF found us,” he explained as Lizzie sputtered beside him. “We need a teleport. Now. Get B and have him explain to you where the apodyterium is located. He has fond memories of that place.”

  “On it.”

  The line went dead as Jayson leapt over a rope. He turned, grabbed Lizzie’s hips, and hoisted her over it as well.

  “I’m capable of doing that on my own,” she snapped.

  Jayson grinned despite the circumstance. “Probably, but this is more fun, Red.” He winked and laced their fingers together. “Keep up.”

  She grumbled something incoherent, increasing his amusement as they moved at a brisk pace. At least her fiery personality hadn’t died with the arrival of the CRF.

  “We need to get rid of your phone,” he said as they entered another home. They’d left her purse in the trunk of the car due to the Pompeii bag restrictions, but she brought her mobile, something he suspected the CRF was tracking. Or they had one inside her, like they did with Amelia.

  Lizzie didn’t argue. She handed him her mobile and watched as he smashed it into the corner of the room. “You’re buying me a new one.”

  “Sure, sweetheart.”

  This time she took his hand in anticipation of being guided, eliciting a grin from him. She should have been terrified, but trust shone bright in her gaze. He supposed it helped that she didn’t know about the sniper or have any idea how many Sentinels were on the ground.

  “Remind me to kiss you later,” he murmured. Completely inappropriate timing, but Jayson adored a strong-willed woman.

  Her brow furrowed, but he didn’t give her a chance to reply.

  The Stabian Baths he desired appeared as he maneuvered them through another set of stone walls, and he increased their speed as they hit the open area.

  Several tourists wandered about taking photos, providing what could have been decent cover if not for Lizzie’s notable hair.

  The CRF would identify her in an instant.

  “In there,” he said, gesturing to a solid doorway leading to the women’s bathhouse.

  “It looks like a dead end.”

  “Yep,” he agreed as he guided her inside. “Keep moving.”

  She did, but slowed when they hit an open area filled with impressive mosaics. “Wow,” she whispered as she tried to focus on walking and not admiring.

  “I promise to bring you back here someday,” he vowed. “But right now, I need your undivided attention. Move.”

  She nodded and continued the way he guided her until they hit a dead end. Jacque hadn’t appeared yet, which wasn’t a good sign.

  “Uh, what
now?” she asked, voice quiet.

  “We wait or fight.” He didn’t have any weapons on him thanks to traveling by air, but he shouldn’t need one. Jayson excelled in all manners of martial arts and a few other techniques not of this time period. Not to mention his affinity for metal.

  “You’re sure the CRF is here?” Lizzie whispered.

  “Yes.” He scanned the perimeter with his senses. The Sentinels appeared to be splitting up, which suggested either Lizzie’s phone was the source of their tracking or something in these old walls was interfering with the signal.

  “Okay.” She sucked her lip into her mouth and chewed nervously. “I didn’t see anyone I recognized.”

  “Not surprising. As much as I dislike them, the Sentinels are well trained.”

  She nodded. “Most of them are recruited from Special Forces, or the like. I always knew something was off with them. Nothing ever added up. Why all the traveling and secrecy?”

  “They still do some good around the world,” Jayson admitted. “But mostly to maintain their cover.”

  He sensed two guns enter the baths.

  Four.

  “They’re coming,” he warned. “Step over the rope and press your back to this wall.”

  She studied the mosaic on the floor and flashed him a skeptical look. “Isn’t that illegal?”

  Despite the situation, humor touched his chest. Just for a moment. Then he lifted her, set her where he wanted, and caged her against the wall with his body. “Don’t move.” Not that she could.

  “But—”

  He pressed a finger to her lips as a couple of tourists wandered in through the room’s only entrance. They took in the sight with matching grins, snapped a few photos of the mosaic floor beside Lizzie’s feet, and left.

  I love this country. Displays of affection went unnoticed and undiscussed.

  Jayson’s amusement was short-lived as the gunmetal approached.

  From the placement and nearness, he counted a pair of Sentinels carrying a duplicate set of firearms.