by Anna Abner
Maybe Connor Beckett, despite his flaws, was on to something.
Maks latched the lid of the footlocker and pushed it through the opening. As he turned back to help Ali out of the dark, musty hole, an object hidden under the chest caught his eye. He stooped to pick up a hand-sized, stuffed pig.
“Wait,” Ali said, pushing around him to snatch the pig, now slightly messy with cobwebs and dust bunnies. “What is this?” Her voice had a faraway quality. “I remember this.”
He remembered it too. He remembered little Anya toddling around the house with the pink pig squeezed tight in her baby fists.
She looked up into his eyes, her expression muddled. “How do I remember this?”
“It was yours,” he told her gently. “It must have fallen into the hole when I was going in and out.”
Her beautiful blue eyes glistened. “I couldn’t remember living here with you or my mother. I could almost pretend it was all a story made up to manipulate me, but this… I remember this. I really lived here.”
“Yes.”
“Then why did you put a knife to my throat?” she asked. “Why did you kill my cousin?”
There were so many regrets and so few excuses… “I wanted to protect you from Oleksander, and I was past caring how I managed it. For my part, I’m sorry.”
She stared into his eyes for an uncomfortably long time. “I believe you,” she finally whispered and then turned her back on him to reach for the opening.
He hoisted her up, and Ali crawled the rest of the way. Silently, the girls each grabbed duffels and headed toward the front of the house. Maks replaced the floorboards, covered the spot with the end table, and then shouldered the footlocker out of the house. The owner never even rolled over as they left through the front door and started the rental car.
“What is all that stuff?” Roz asked, rousing herself from her phone conversation.
“Maks is rich,” Ali said, shutting her duffel in the trunk and sliding into the passenger’s seat. “Cool, right?”
“Yeah,” Roz agreed. “Rich is cool. Can we get out of the Ukraine now? No offense, but I really miss Vegas.”
“Don’t you mean Lukas?” Ali teased as Maks rolled the vehicle out of the driveway.
“Shut up or I’ll tell Connor you picked up a Ukrainian boyfriend on our trip.”
Ali burst out laughing at the absurdity. Maks knew from watching her, she hadn’t so much as looked twice at a man the entire trip. But it was nice to hear her laugh.
She still had her pink pig clutched in her left fist.
#
Violet hopped out of the car as soon as Maks shifted into park, and removed her son’s car seat. Without the curse draining her energy, Violet felt rejuvenated. The curse had been a weight around her neck, and its absence evaporated any and all anxieties she might have once had.
She was healthy. And Jackson was with her. Nothing could puncture her good mood.
Violet carried Jackson in his car seat as Maks locked his fortune in the trunk and left the vehicle in the parking structure adjacent to the hotel. They all strolled into the lobby and rode the elevator in silence.
As the elevator doors opened, Roz and Ali headed for one door. Maks for the other. For a moment, Violet stood in the dark, wallpapered hall between them, holding Jackson and vacillating between the two parties. At the last moment, she darted for Maks’ door.
“Violet?” Ali asked with concern.
“I’ll stay with Maks,” she said.
The man in question said quietly in her direction, “You should stay with them. They want to keep you safe.”
Violet eased nearer and looked up at him, their faces very close. Probably too close for polite conversation. “I feel safe with you.”
He seemed to assess the determination in her eyes, and then he opened his door for her. “I’ll look after her,” he told Ali. “See you in the morning.”
Violet slipped into his room and gratefully sat upon his sagging, well-used bed with the car seat. It had been a good day, but a long one. She’d barely slept since leaving Vegas the day before, and after eating nonstop from Svetlana’s, she felt capable of lying comatose for at least the next twelve hours.
Ali knocked on the door to deliver Jackson’s gear and take a long look inside the room. “Violet, can I talk to you in the hall for a second?”
It seemed a silly precaution, since Maks could hear them either way with his vampire hearing, but she agreed and stepped out into the dimly lit corridor.
“Are you sure about this?” Ali asked. “I’m worried about you. Are you aware—”
“Ali, don’t you get it yet?” Violet interrupted. “It’s all an act. The sociopath? The slimeball? None of it’s real. It’s how he survived so long. The real Maks is kind and nurturing. And he’s more in need of unconditional love than anyone I’ve ever met. He’s a good man. You and I have to keep reminding him of that.”
Rather than argue, Ali admitted, “I’m beginning to see that, but we still need to talk.” She leaned against the wallpapered paneling and patted the spot beside her.
Violet glanced at the closed door between her and Maks before joining her.
“He can hear this,” Ali said, as if reading her mind. “I’d rather him hear it than wonder what I said to you.”
“Okay,” Violet agreed uncertainly, settling against the wall.
“He’s not, uh, what you’d call mentally stable,” Ali began.
“I know,” Violet said. “Neither am I.”
“Did he tell you about his past?”
Violet shook her head. The man hardly spoke at all.
Ali wiggled into a more comfortable position, and then said, “Keep in mind, he’s never talked to me about this, but after he surfaced, I went through the supernatural collection at the UNLV library and did some homework.” She inhaled deeply, and said, “He was turned at seventeen by a monster. An absolute psychopath. There’s little doubt Oleksander did terrible things to Maks. Tortured him. Manipulated him. Degraded him. Oleksander didn’t break him, though. He still had enough of a soul to fall in love with my mother.”
“How long were they together?” Violet asked.
“About two years,” Ali said, “but from what I’ve gathered, she was the love of his life. He hasn’t been in another relationship since.”
“Not in twenty years?” Violet blurted out. No, surely he’d had other relationships. They might not be known, but he couldn’t have been alone this long.
“You remember Oleksander’s failed invasion of Prague?” Ali prompted. “The U.S. government took possession of Oleksander, Maks, my mother, the pit vampires, and any other infecteds who survived the attack. Most, including my mother, were dissected and disposed of immediately. That’s where the pit vampires came from—the pit of dismembered and mummified corpses the army filled. But Maks and Oleksander were different.”
Ali cleared her throat and twisted into another position. When she glanced up, her eyes shone with unshed tears. “They were experimented on, tortured, for over two decades. I don’t know the details because Maks is the only survivor, and he’s not talking, but you can bet he was treated less than human for decades… To be honest, Violet, I don’t think he’s mentally or emotionally capable of a relationship, and I don’t think you should pursue one.”
Silence hung heavy, and Violet pictured Maks listening from the other side of the door. “Can I say something?”
“Of course.”
“I’ve seen him bleeding, broken, and torn. I’ve seen him tortured with my own eyes, and the fact that he’s still human and not a rabid animal is a testament to his character. He’s been as much a victim of the horde as I am. I understand what he went through. And he knows what I’ve been through, more than anyone else on earth. Is it so strange that I feel a connection to him?”
“It’s not strange—” Ali began.
“He has never hurt me,” Violet continued. “Oleksander was the man who hurt me.”
“We
ll, I killed Oleksander.”
“Oh.”
At Violet’s raised eyebrows, Ali added, “Single-handedly.”
“Oh.”
“I did it to save Connor’s life. And my own and Roz’s. And in a roundabout way, Maks’ too.”
“There never was a more despicable person in need of killing,” Violet remarked, shivering through a mental slideshow of horrors Oleksander had put her through.
“But I need you to know,” Ali added, “a lot of people believe Maks was right there at the Destroyer’s side perpetrating the same atrocities with the same joy in his heart. A lot of people would warn you Maksim Volk is a world-class liar and manipulator.”
“I understand,” Violet told her, “but I’m telling you, I trust him.”
Ali nodded quietly for a long time. Finally, she said, “Okay, just be safe. I’m right down the hall.” She stepped away to leave, but then hesitated. “You’re good for him. I mean, he’s better since you arrived.” She sent Violet a long look. “Thank you.” Finally, she slipped away and Violet went back into Maks’ room.
For a long moment, he refused to speak as his dark eyes watched her. He’d heard their conversation. Would he feel betrayed? Or angry?
“Are you hungry?” he finally asked, closing the door, but remaining near it. “I could order room service.”
Avoiding talking about the past, Violet could relate to. She wouldn’t push him to tell her about his experiences. He’d tell her when he was ready, or not at all.
“No,” she said with a feeble laugh. “I’ve finally had enough to eat.” After a beat, she asked, “Are you?”
He slowly shook his head.
Maks stood for so long at the closed door that Violet grew uncomfortable. To distract herself, she changed Jackson, dressed him for bed, and then fed him dinner. Finally, with nothing else to keep her busy, she changed into pajamas, put Jackson to bed in his pack-and-play, climbed under the blankets, and turned her back to Maks.
It was silly, of course, but knowing he was in the room—even distant, even silent—calmed her fears. He would keep her and her son safe. With his life, if need be.
The light went out, and the mattress dipped. Violet remained absolutely still until he’d settled beside her. She sensed him, but he left just enough space between their bodies that she couldn’t feel him.
She grew so unstable in anticipation of his touch that her skin fairly vibrated. Her toes clenched. She chewed gently at her bottom lip. Finally, she could take the waiting no longer and she spun, her mouth colliding with his.
It didn’t hurt. No. His lips were a soft place to land. His hand, though, was a rough claw at the base of her neck as if he were afraid she would escape. Her hands, meanwhile, fluttered across his chest, searching for a way over or around his shirt. At last, her fingers dove under and then bypassed the hem. His belly was taut and overwarm, and his flesh quivered beneath her fingertips.
“Wait,” he gasped, grabbing her hands and keeping them still.
She kissed his chin and then the corner of his mouth. “Why?”
He took a breath. “Oh, fuck it,” and sank into another kiss.
Violet’s mouth opened in surprise, and Maks’ slick tongue invaded. A tease here, a gentle prodding there. He tasted her with great skill and great patience. She writhed upon the bed, never having felt so turned on by a mere kiss. Violet clenched her thighs together and groaned low.
“You’ll need to be quiet,” he reminded her as he parted her pajama top and suckled a ripe, pink nipple into his mouth.
She bit her lip, but keeping quiet was damned difficult.
Meanwhile, Maks was a man on a mission, trailing down her body, hitting her naval and hipbone with his tongue and teeth, but it was clear where he was so anxious to be. Down went her pajama bottoms with a ripping sound and his face was between her thighs. Still, he remained silently determined.
“How?” she teased, even as his warm tongue brushed her clit and her back bowed. She didn’t know how he controlled his voice because it was nearly impossible for her.
Violet’s heels dug into the mattress, forcing her hips up and nearer his very attentive mouth. When he nosed the center of her pleasure while the tip of his tongue delved into her opening, Violet knew she was going to come and come fast.
Maks was like a virtuoso playing a finely tuned instrument, every lick and nip meant to produce a specific note. Violet closed her eyes and slid her fingers through his silken dark hair, holding him in place, as his warm breath seemed to melt her core to sweet honey. He turned all his attention to her clitoris, nudging, licking, and suckling it in ever quicker pulses.
She whimpered, and his hand rose to cover her mouth. She bit him, and that helped release the pressure inside.
Violet spasmed, her consciousness fracturing into sparkling fireworks. Her head hit the mattress as she came in a rush of heat and light. A breath later, she collapsed, her limbs quivering.
Maks climbed up beside her, pulling her against his shoulder. Loose-limbed and weak, she flung one arm across his still-clothed chest.
“Take off your shirt,” she complained softly.
He did so quickly and efficiently, without disturbing her.
His chest was warm, solid muscle. “Much better,” she murmured, inhaling his musky, familiar scent.
“Where are you from?” Maks asked his voice a grumbly whisper in her ear.
She tilted her chin up and laid her hand on his face, rubbing her thumb across his raven black eyebrow. “North Carolina.”
“So, that’s where you get your sexy southern twang.”
“Sexy?” she teased. “Mmm. Good to know.” He didn’t reply, and so she told him, “I was a waitress in my uncle’s BBQ joint.”
Fayetteville seemed like an alien planet, at this point—foreign and unsettling. She couldn’t imagine living there again.
“I used to be silly and reckless,” she said. “I’m a different person now. I can’t go back to serving hushpuppies and sweet tea every night, avoiding Jackson’s dad, being either a disappointment or an annoyance to everyone I know.”
“Will Jackson’s father come looking for him?”
A jagged pain hit her dead center of her chest. Not for herself, but for her son. Rafe had fooled her completely into thinking he was a decent person. Turned out, he was lower than scum.
“He’s not interested in being a dad. He never signed the birth certificate. He never paid a dime of child support. When I said I avoided him, it was because we hung out at the same places and it hurt watching him party with other girls and not a give a shit what happened to our son or me. To be honest, it’ll probably be a bonus for him if Jackson and I are gone. Out of sight, out of mind.”
Rafe was out of her life for good. Her parents were two thousand miles away. There was no longer a single curse, vampire, or witch threatening her.
For the first time in her life, Violet’s future lay ahead of her open and full of possibilities. From the time she’d graduated high school, her life had been locked in. Waitress job that barely paid her bills. A single mother to Jackson. Living under her parents’ critical gaze in the rural South.
But no longer. Being freed from captivity and now a curse, she felt completely unfettered. She and Jackson could go anywhere, be anything.
With a sigh, she smiled into Maks’ chest and fell deeply asleep.
Chapter Twelve
Roz couldn’t settle her nerves. She was jumpy on the flight to Vegas. She was jittery for the car ride to the Le Sort. She couldn’t stop tapping her fingers as they waited for Connor to answer the phone.
The further away she traveled from Svetlana and the Ukraine, the more the First Witch’s words seemed to infiltrate her. How could she possibly overtake the Coven? What would she do with it, even if she succeeded? What about the consequences? Roz wasn’t thrilled with being hunted the rest of her life or being burned alive.
Finally, Connor’s face appeared on her laptop’s screen. “So,” he
began after greeting Ali and then the rest of the party, “what are the pros and cons of forcing the Coven to kneel?”
Lukas ducked his head in front of the camera. “Häxa, I’m glad you’re home safe, but is this even possible? Can we trust the First Witch? I don’t want you walking into a trap.”
“Good point,” Maks said in a mocking tone. “Glad you’re here to state the obvious.”
Lukas growled some very ungentlemanly curse words, mostly in Swedish.
Roz traced the outline of a watermark on the glossy dining room table and ignored the back-and-forth jabs. Someone had forgotten to use a coaster. She nervously jackhammered her fingernail along the stain.
“Boys, do you mind?” Connor snapped. “The truth is, no one trusts anything. We go in armed to the teeth or we don’t go in. But if it’s possible, then it seems like the head of this organization is where Roz belongs. Especially after they came after one of our own. Besides, think about the resources we could gain access to.”
“Ah, I’m flattered,” Maks said, still mocking them.
“I was talking about Violet,” Connor returned.
“Can we be serious, please?” Ali snapped. “By taking control of the Coven we’d lose a very big opponent in the war against supernaturals. Without the witches screwing around from the sidelines, we can help people a lot easier and a lot quicker.”
“You two weren’t there,” Maks said, refusing to make himself visible to Connor and Lukas on the screen, but instead lounging in an armchair. Probably sulking. “This lady was legit. She sucked Violet’s blood curse out of her fingertip. I left with no suspicions at all. If she said Roz should be at the top of the witch heap, then I’m fully behind it.”
“But is that what she wants you to think?” Connor countered. “Maybe we should do some more research. Another trip to the library at UNLV?”
“If there was anything there about the First Witch or the circle of six,” Ali said, “we would’ve found it already. Roz has combed that collection frontwards and backwards. I think we should trust Svetlana. What’s the worst that could happen? We get kicked out of the building again?”
