Well, she could try anyway.
A frown puckered her lips as she debated. “No, you’ll just let me win.”
Not an acceptable answer. One way or another, he had to convince her to fight. “I promise you won’t even come close.”
“You sound mighty confident,” she said, narrowing her eyes on him. “How do I know you’ll put up a fair fight?”
“Guess you’ll just have to trust me.”
She glanced towards the sparring floor, then back at him, traces of doubt shadowing her eyes.
“How can you refuse the chance to knock me down? Unless you don’t think you can…”
He was laying the cockiness on pretty thick, but it did exactly what he intended. Her eyes flashed; he’d finally goaded her into it. “Fine, but this better not be some game you’re playing.”
He held his hands up. “No games. I’m only giving you a chance to do me some serious damage. I doubt you can, but we’ll see.”
When they showed up on the floor, Zane rolled his eyes. “Haven’t you had enough for a while?” he asked Kennedy, looking at her like she’d lost her mind.
“Just press the buzzer,” she told him.
“Let’s make this interesting,” Phoenix said, getting into position. “For every time you manage to hit me, I’ll give you a hundred globals. If you knock me down, I’ll give you two hundred.”
“Seriously?” She arched a brow. “You’re on, buddy.”
The buzzer went off, and she dove for him. Phoenix not only blocked her attempt, but also got hold of her arms, swung her around, and stopped her from moving by securing an arm around her ribcage.
That had been almost too easy.
He leaned across her shoulder and said, “Told you I wouldn’t let you win.”
The top of his arm brushed the underside of her breasts. Kennedy’s breath hitched, and he felt her body stiffen at the touch.
This kind of contact normally went unnoticed. The twelve of them trained so much on this floor, it wasn’t uncommon for one of them to end up accidentally groping body parts while trying to keep their opponent at bay. Most people’s only concern was trying to keep from getting knocked down.
The fact that such a small touch was bothering her thrilled Phoenix. He decided to have some fun with it.
He gave her an out by moving his feet back. Oblivious to what he was doing, she used that opportunity to kick him in the shin. He faked pain, allowing her to escape his hold. To his surprise, she was back in position quickly, ready to attack.
He tilted his head to the side, impressed. “Not bad. You’re getting better.”
When she moved toward him, he ducked the other way. She swung her leg around to kick him, but he saw it coming and grabbed her by the ankle. She landed on the mat on her butt, groaning.
When she tried to get up, Phoenix pushed her down by straddling her body and pinning her arms to the floor behind her head. “What an interesting position,” he said, grinning down at her.
Heat reddened her cheeks. Between breaths, she panted, “Get off me.”
“Why? I’m kind of enjoying this.”
She stared at him angrily. “Is this what you wanted? To force me into submission?”
“Hey, I resent that.” He frowned, trying to appear wounded. “It’s your own fault you can’t put up a decent fight.”
“Get up,” she said, her whole face flushed now. “We’re going again.”
Phoenix laughed, letting her go. She was too predictable. All he had to do was insult her strength, and she would come back fighting harder. Proving herself was too important. As soon as she realized she was the twelfth, she’d thrown herself into becoming this warrior she envisioned, developing her skills faster than any of the others had. Sometimes he wished she’d see how far she’d come, rather than agonizing over perfection.
“Ready for round two?”
She answered by getting into position.
“Instead of going for the surprise attack, you may want to wait until I come after you. That’s how you nailed Fang with that kick. You planned your move based on what you anticipated from her.”
Kennedy only nodded once, but he knew she would take his advice.
The next several rounds Phoenix continued bringing Kennedy down, but to her credit, she managed one blow to his chest, earning herself a hundred globals. She won that blow fair and square—he wasn’t going easy on her just because she was a beginner.
Each time he managed to win the fight, he strove to put her into a more compromising position than the last. It embarrassed her, and it pissed her off because she’d caught on to what he was doing, but knowing she was affected by it gave him hope.
“Last round,” she said, wiping the sweat from her brow. “I don’t think I can handle much more. I’m exhausted.”
“Okay. I’ll take it easy on you this time.”
He landed her on her back in three seconds flat, pinning her down by securing her arms again.
She went still, her eyes rounding on him. “That was taking it easy on me?”
Twenty-One
Kennedy expected Phoenix to apologize or sweetly suggest that she pay more attention, speed up and block his moves more efficiently. He did none of those things. Instead he shrugged a shoulder and said, “Guess I lied.”
She stared at his slightly amused face, dumbfounded. “Why?”
“You said it was the last round. I wanted to take advantage of it.”
“Take advantage…”All at once, she became super aware of his body, every muscle contracting against hers as he held her to the floor. She suddenly realized exactly what kind of advantages he was taking. “Get off me. We’re done.”
He shook his head. “We’re not done yet.”
Tempted to scream, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Phoenix, I mean it—”
His mouth was on hers before she had a chance to grasp what was happening.
Phoenix’s lips were warm and soft, and oh, God.
She had missed this.
Really, really missed it. The taste, the feel of him…everything. She vaguely realized she never gave him permission, but she pushed that thought aside for the moment.
Both of his hands released hers so that he reach behind her neck, drawing her face up to explore her mouth more thoroughly. She gasped, parting her lips just enough for him to slide his tongue inside, softly caressing hers. One of his hands slid down her arm and across the curve of her hip, pulling her closer. She clung to him, digging her fingers into his arms as he continued to explore every inch of her mouth.
No one had ever kissed her like this. He had the ability to make her feel warm and tingly everywhere. If it didn’t feel so good, she would swear she was burning up from the inside out.
Phoenix pulled back a little, nibbling her lower lip before breaking away. Breathing erratically, Kennedy heard the sound of several throats being cleared, followed by amused snickers.
Oh, no. Not again.
She winced, wishing she could die right there on the sparring floor. How did she keep ending up in these situations? Was she really such a basket case around Phoenix that she couldn’t remember they were in public?
She punched him hard in the gut once. He grunted, not expecting it, which made it easy for her to slip out from under him. “Oh, come on, Kennedy,” he called. “It’s not a big deal.”
It was obvious he could care less what anyone around them thought.
“Don’t ever touch me again,” she warned, brushing herself off.
The amusement disappeared from his face. “You and I both know that’s not what you want.”
“Yes, it is,” she said, lowering her voice into one that rang with finality. “That’s what I want.”
She headed towards the exit, keeping her eyes on the floor as the unmistakable sound of whistles and laughter followed her out the door.
Embarrassed was putting it lightly. She was pretty sure she’d never been so humiliated in her life. If Phoenix hadn’t stop
ped when he did, she wasn’t sure when she would have snapped out of that hormone-induced haze. For all she knew, she might have had sex with him right there in the middle of the sparring floor with everyone watching from the sidelines.
“Hey, Kennedy, wait up!”
The second keeper, Lexie Brümfeld, jogged to her side. Her puffy cheeks were scrunched up more than usual, probably from trying not to laugh. Over the last few months, Kennedy couldn’t help but become friends with the talkative Brit. Lexie was just that type of person—the kind you instantly feel like you’ve known your whole life.
“I promise I didn’t come over here to make fun of you for your X-rated Karate Kid performance.”
Kennedy looked at her pointedly. “And yet you effortlessly managed to do so already.”
“What can I say?” Lexie grinned. “Sometimes it slips. Anyway, the real reason I sought you out was because I spoke to Professor Mason earlier and he was in the middle of booking you a flight to Russia. I asked him about it, and he told me you were checking out a lead on Nika.”
Kennedy slowed her steps. She hadn’t expected the professor to tell anyone. Then again, her absence in training wouldn’t go unnoticed. Some sort of explanation had to be made. Why wouldn’t he tell the other keepers truth?
“Yes, I am,” she told Lexie. “But I’d like to keep it as quiet as possible.” She glanced back at the door to the training room they had come from, making sure no one had followed.
“Of course,” Lexie said. “Mason already warned me to keep it hush. I just wanted to give you this before you left.” She held out a shiny chain. Kennedy picked it up, looking at it more closely. There was a golden carving of a tiger attached to it.
“It’s Nika’s,” Lexie explained. “She left it in her locker. I’m not sure if it came from her mum or dad, but for whatever reason, it calms her when she’s upset. I’ve seen her twirling it around her fingers countless times. I know she’d like to have it back.”
“Why don’t you wait until she returns?”
Lexie stared ahead as she walked, her eyes glazing over. “Even if you find her, it doesn’t mean she’s coming back to Olympus. I’m not trying to sound negative or anything, Kennedy, but Nika has never really been at home here. There are things she has to deal with, and I’m not sure how long those things will take. I also know you’re not the type who would force her to come back.”
“I’m not planning to force her,” she agreed wholeheartedly. “I’m planning to convince her.”
Kennedy shifted under the weight of Lexie’s skeptical gaze. Was it really so hard to believe Nika could be convinced?
“I hope you do,” Lexie said after a long moment. “You can relate a little, since you also had to be convinced into this life. But just…don’t get your hopes too high. Nika isn’t like the rest of us. She’s been…”
“Damaged,” Kennedy said softly. “I know. But even the most broken things can be fixed. No one has really been there for her, Lexie. I know I haven’t been here that long, but I saw how people treated Nika. They isolated her.”
Lexie shook her head. “There’s where you’re wrong. The majority of us did try at one point or another, myself included. Nika isolates herself. If someone gets too close, she lashes out, and after a while, that crap gets exhausting.”
“Are you saying you don’t think she can be helped?”
Lexie considered that question. “She needs to want the help first.”
Kennedy tucked a strand of hair that had come loose behind her ear. “If she’s willing, I’ll be there for her.”
“I know you will.” Lexie reached for Kennedy’s arm, linking it through hers. “So tell me something. Does Phoenix know you’re leaving yet?”
The question threw her off. Her eyes darted to Lexie’s, and she went all tongue-tied, not sure how to answer. Should she have told him?
A small, knowing smile played at Lexie’s mouth. “Ah, come on. I had to ask.”
“Um, no. He doesn’t know yet.” Kennedy said, then quickly added, “And please don’t tell him.”
“I won’t,” Lexie promised, gently squeezing her arm. “Great Black Hole, I don’t even want to be around when he finds out.”
“Why? Do you think he’ll be upset about the Mexico assignment?” She expected Phoenix to be a little peeved, but more than likely it would be because he’d have to be bothered with finding a replacement. They were scheduled to leave Friday morning.
“Mexico will be the last of his worries. I guarantee he’ll be mad as hell that Mason is letting you go to Russia alone.”
Kennedy swallowed, wondering if she was making a mistake by not telling him. More than likely, this would bother him, especially since he blamed himself for losing Nika. If he had his way, he’d be going with her. But this was something she was determined to do on her own. If that meant pissing him off, then she’d deal with it when the time came.
Twenty-Two
Dominika looked down at her brace, checking the time. She still didn’t know what she was doing here, waiting around in the lobby of this ritzy high rise as its wealthy residents strolled in and out of the main door. What purpose would it serve? It was stupid. She was stupid for coming here.
Better leave now before someone recognizes you, stupid girl.
She eyed the exit, hesitating.
“Miss?” the doorman said, startling her.
She glanced up, realizing he’d come out from behind his desk. He must’ve called her name several times.
“He will see you now.” The doorman pointed down the hall, directing her towards the elevators. “Twentieth floor. Unit five.”
“Okay.” She nodded, feeling a little dazed. “Spasibo.”
Uncertainty rushed through her as she stood. Should she turn back? She had already traveled a long way. Maybe it was better to do what she came here for.
Resolved to see it through, Dominika entered the elevator with an elderly woman dressed in fur. As she readjusted the hood of her coat, she caught the woman turning her nose up at her. She was probably wondering what some punk kid was doing in her building, an idea that both amused and irritated Dominika. Ignorant woman. She could probably buy the whole building with the money DOE poured into her bank account, but of course rich people never saw past your clothes and demeanor, especially people in Moscow. The omnipresent divide between the rich and the poor in this city hadn’t changed much since she’d last been here.
The elderly snob got off on the tenth floor, still giving Dominika the stink eye. She hissed at the old woman, unable to help herself, and laughed when the old woman scurried off in a huff. People were so predictable. All you had to do was act a little crazy, and they went running. Made getting rid of them so much easier.
Unit five was easy to find. It was the last apartment on the floor.
Before knocking, Dominika reached into her pocket and felt the cold metal of the knife. A gun would’ve been her first choice but getting a hold of one of those took too much time. Auntie Eva didn’t have a permit, and it wasn’t as if she could get one when every cop in this country was looking for her.
She wasn’t sure yet if she would need to use the knife. She hoped it wouldn’t come down to that. Knives were messy. Bloody. Also, she really didn’t want to kill Oz.
The door to unit five swung open before she had the chance to knock. Her breath caught in her chest.
Ten years.
It had been ten long years since she last saw Ozias Ryder, but she would know those pale green eyes in a heartbeat. Those eyes belonged to her best childhood friend, and the last friend she’d ever made. Seeing him now brought it all to the surface, every beautiful memory choking her with how much she missed him—how much she missed them.
Dominika swallowed, steeling herself. This was also the son of her family’s murderer. If he refused to answer her questions, she wouldn’t hesitate to kill him.
She gasped when Oz slipped his lean arms around her waist and pulled her towards him.
&nbs
p; “Nikki, it’s been so long. You have no idea how happy I am to see—what the fuck?” He immediately backed up, the blade of her knife pressed against his throat guiding him. His eyes darted towards the blade, then back to her. “Is this how you normally greet old friends?”
Dominika ignored his question and shut the door with her foot. She learned long ago that saying as few words as possible was the best way to make people listen. Right now she needed Oz to listen. He had to take her seriously.
She allowed herself a moment to look at him. His height unnerved her a little. He was tall, well over six feet, and his brown hair was shaved close to his head. He’d grown up, become a man, and it was strange no longer seeing the little boy she once knew and loved.
Oz watched her too. She wondered if he still saw his old friend beneath her exterior. Or had they ever truly been friends to begin with? Perhaps his father had forced him to pretend, forced him to get close, making it that much easier for him to wipe them out when the time came.
Oz swallowed, his throat constricting against the edge of her blade. Dominika shook herself. Why was she paying attention to his throat muscles when she needed to figure out her next move?
Her eyes wandered over the apartment. It was modern and elegant, no less than she expected. A pair of camel-colored leather sofas sat in front of an expansive window looking out on the city.
“Go sit over there,” she said, lowering the knife.
Oz did as she asked, slowly lowering himself onto one of the sofas. She sat across from him, keeping her knife tucked close.
“I can’t tell you how many times I tried to get in touch with you over the years, Nikki. Apparently my last name doesn’t mean shit to your DOE officials. Contacting the damned pope would’ve been easier, I think.” He let out a long sigh. “And now you’re here. I can’t believe you’re fucking here.”
Dominika wasn’t sure she liked the way his eyes roamed over her. She’d seen that look before. It occurred to her that Oz wasn’t a little boy anymore, and she wasn’t his eight-year-old best friend. All he saw was blonde hair and long legs.
Center of the Universe (Twelfth Keeper) Page 16
