by Trina M. Lee
He stiffened and stood perfectly still, like a prey animal who’s been spotted by the predator. “You do realize that Shya planted that contract for you to find. He’s trying to turn us on each other. I just saved your ass back there, and he wants to make sure it doesn’t happen again. Don’t be an idiot. You’re smarter than this.”
Compliments from Falon were always a cause for suspicion. Ultimately, I couldn’t trust him. Not really. Yet he was the lesser of two evils. Right? Doubt caused me to second-guess everything, which was just what Shya would want. Fuck.
“I want to know if you can resist me,” I insisted, gliding the tip of my tongue over his bottom lip. “Do it. Fight this.”
I didn’t just wrap him in my thrall, I threw the power at him. It was an aggressive attack intended to put him on the defensive. I wanted Falon to fight back. I needed to know if he could. Had I seduced him, or had he just played me?
“You’re playing right into Shya’s hands,” he said, fisting a handful of my hair. “We don’t have to do this. What we have to do is get the hell out of here.”
His actions weren’t matching his words. He claimed my mouth in a crushing kiss. As much as I enjoyed the rush of his arousal, I was doing this for no other reason than to determine if I was as in control as I thought I was.
“Resist, dammit.” With great difficulty I broke off the kiss and thumped a fist on his chest. “If I’m as seductive as you claim, then fight it. Let me see how hard it is for you to resist me. Otherwise, I can’t help but think maybe you’ve been the one manipulating the situation all along.”
Falon leaned heavily against the wall beside the office door. Pulling me against him, he made sure I felt the remarkable hard on between his legs. “You are fucking delusional, you know that? Do you think I can fake this?”
“I think you get as much out of these encounters as I do. Getting hard doesn’t mean shit.” I went for his neck, pressing my lips to the pulse beating there and breathing in the musky, masculine scent of him.
I just wanted him to fight me. Was that too much to ask? To my recollection, he never really had. Sure there’d been some general resistance but no great effort on his part.
“You can’t handle the thought that maybe we fucked because we wanted to, can you? You need it to be all about power or deception.” Falon’s low chuckle sent a shiver down my spine. He clutched my ass, his hands hot through the thin material of my pants.
I jerked back like I’d been slapped. A mischievous light danced in his eyes. He was incredibly pleased with himself.
“It’s always about power or deception,” I hissed, shoving away from him. He held tight to me. I wasn’t going anywhere. “Fuck you for suggesting otherwise. And you don’t really expect me to believe you just happened to feel like screwing someone you hate.”
“What about escape? Isn’t that what it really is for us?”
He moved to kiss me, and I jerked back as far as I could get. “Every word that comes out of your mouth just makes me more suspicious.”
“Then give me something else to do with it.” His mouth on my neck and cleavage was almost enough to sway me, another reminder that I was a victim of my own power.
“No, Falon, you infuriating pain in the ass. Stop screwing around and be real with me. Could you resist me if you wanted to or not?” There was ice in my tone. I was done playing; I wanted an answer.
Falon shoved me hard enough to dump me on my ass. The Dragon Claw’s sheath dug into my leg as I landed. I scowled up at him but froze when he came away from the wall with wings spread and torment on his face.
“No, you crazy bitch,” he shouted. “I can’t. Do you think I want to admit that to you? It’s always been hard, but since you became a vampire, it’s pretty much impossible. Is that what you want to hear? Are you satisfied?”
I stayed down, hoping it would keep him from lashing out at me, but I could see he wanted to. There was so much hate in him that it flavored the air with bitterness.
“Sex is just a weapon for you,” he continued, coming to stand over me. “A tool to maim and manipulate so you can get what you want. And trust me, you wield it well. Can you even make love without it being a scenario of predator and prey?”
I flinched. That stung. I dropped my gaze, refusing to let him see the wound his words had caused. The truth was crushing. I could call a few memories to mind where it had been a true expression of love without it being about who was predator and who was prey, but I could count them all on one hand. Falon’s accusation was accurate. Sex had become a weapon.
“No,” I said, plunging my fingers into the stiff carpet. “Not anymore.”
He was quiet so long, just staring at me sprawled on my butt on the flowery carpet, that I dared to peek out at him from behind a blonde curtain. Instantly I wished I hadn’t. He turned away to hide the regret that darted across his face, but I’d already seen.
“Don’t you dare feel bad,” I snarled. “I don’t want your goddamn pity.”
“Get up, Alexa. We have to get the hell out of here.”
Falon headed for the door at the end of the hall. Once there he paused and glanced back at me, waiting patiently for me to join him. I did, albeit begrudgingly. It wasn’t like I had a choice. I’d gotten the answer I’d demanded from him. Now I had to live with it.
Being powerful enough to truly mind fuck someone like Falon should have been an ego boost. Unfortunately, it had come with a painful reminder. I might never again know mutually inclusive emotional intimacy with a lover without the hunger hanging over my head.
At my impatient gesture Falon flung open the door. I blinked several times, questioning what I saw inside. The room was an exact copy of the den in Raoul’s house. The very same house that had burnt down with Coby and me inside.
Drawn by demon magic and nostalgia, I crossed the threshold without a second thought. The scent of expensive whiskey and werewolf hung on the air. It took me back to another time.
Forgetting Falon completely, I drifted further into the room. Though logic reminded me that this was an illusion, the realness of it sucked me in. I ran my hand over the bookshelf that housed the Shakespearian plays that Raoul had never read. The dust layer was just as I remembered it.
A noise startled me, and I turned suddenly toward the old leather couch. The couch I’d lost my virginity on. Real romantic.
Sitting there with a drink in hand and a haughty grin on his handsome face was Raoul.
Chapter Eighteen
“This can’t be real,” I blurted, gawking at him in shock and disbelief.
Raoul raised a hand to indicate the replica of his office surrounding us. “This isn’t. It’s an illusion, but you know that. I, however, am quite real.”
He certainly appeared real. But that was how illusions worked. Apprehension fluttered in my chest. I glanced back at the door to find there was no door to the hallway and no Falon. It was like being back inside Raoul’s house. There was no sign of Shya’s crazy house.
“How?” It was all I could muster. The sight of him was mind blowing.
He sipped the whiskey, dark eyes locked on mine. He looked just like I remembered: hard bodied with rugged good looks and black hair that fell to his shoulders. I’d fallen so hard for him as a naïve teen. Now I was a jaded adult who’d walked through death, and all I felt for him was loathing.
“We’re in a house constructed by a demon,” he said, as if that explained everything. “It’s not fully anchored in reality. Obviously. Shya’s pulled some strings so that we could speak. I’m as dead as you think I am, yet I’m here.”
I couldn’t claim to know the laws of life and death. The rules weren’t always what they seemed to be, as my continued existence proved. Yet Veryl had come to me when I was in-between worlds. There was no part of me that doubted it had really been him.
“Tell me something that proves it’s you,” I said. “Something Shya could never know.”
Raoul shifted slightly on the couch, causing the leath
er to creak. It was uncanny how real it all was. He regarded me with keen amusement and a raised brow. “You have a birthmark on the inside of your left thigh. It’s tiny and shaped like a messy heart.” He drummed his fingers on the arm of the couch, awaiting my reaction.
I shook my head, not so easily convinced. “I’ve shifted in front of Shya. He could’ve seen that birthmark.”
“Your middle name is Katherine. You secretly love The Hangover movie even though you pretend to hate it. I once caught you crying over a book about elephants. And you make this sexy little noise when you come. Kind of a growl mixed with a moan. Oh, and I had a scar on my back from your claws the night we did it in the backyard. Could never figure out why it healed that way.” He paused to enjoy the horror that stole over me. “Shall I go on?”
“Please don’t.” Some of those things Shya could possibly know although I hoped like hell he didn’t know what sound I made at orgasm. As for crying over Water for Elephants, I would never be ashamed of that. It was a freakin’ tearjerker. “So what are you doing here, Raoul?”
He shrugged his broad shoulders and took another slug of whiskey. “Damn I missed this. I bet you miss it too.” He nodded to the glass. “I guess I’m here to torment you. Isn’t that kind of Shya’s thing?”
“It is very much his thing, but that doesn’t explain why he chose you.” As I studied the room again, I was careful not to let Raoul out of my sight. There wasn’t a damn thing about this situation that felt right.
“Maybe he wanted to remind you where you came from. You know, Lex, if Shya and Veryl hadn’t intervened, you’d be FPA right now. Or dead.” Raoul sat there with a pleasant smile, running a finger along the rim of his glass.
I used to wonder why Veryl had teamed up with Shya. Veryl wanted to protect the city while Shya had wanted only to protect himself by using those of us who worked for Veryl, thinking we were doing something good but inadvertently serving his agenda to rule the city from Lilah’s throne. We were his army. His minions. Nothing more.
Veryl had been our protector, doing his best to keep us safe from Shya, though I hadn’t known it until recently. That was why Shya and Lilah manipulated me into killing him. He was what stood between them and us.
“You were a pawn to Shya too, Raoul. He used you to kill my parents and babysit me until I was old enough to serve him. Doesn’t that bother you?”
“He made it worth my while.”
“Of course he did.”
“Did you really think I got that rich selling houses?”
My barely reined-in temper exploded. “You killed the woman you loved! Did that do nothing to you? How can you talk like that? As if she was nothing but a paycheck.”
Raoul remained unfazed by my outburst. He was the epitome of casual and cool. “It definitely did something to me. I know you’ll never believe it, but I wasn’t always such an asshole.”
“You’re right. I’ll never believe that.” This little reunion had already lost its novelty. I was done with it, though I had yet to figure out how to escape. Imagine my surprise to discover that it only took Raoul Roberts to make me miss Falon’s presence.
“I changed, and there was no coming back from that. Why fight it? Some things are meant to be, whether we accept that or not.” He stood up abruptly, smirking when my hand went to my dagger. “You can’t kill what’s already dead, Lex.”
I hated that he kept saying my name like that, like someone close to me. He didn’t have the right. “Don’t come near me.”
“I just want to smell you,” he said, a strange lilt to his voice. “I have to know if you still smell like wolf.”
“Back off.” My hands sparked with blue and gold. I held them out before me. It was the only warning he would get.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Raoul advanced on me, unperturbed by the very same power that used to scare the crap out of him. “You might hurt someone. It won’t be me though. I’m beyond that.”
He was just a ghost. But ghosts couldn’t take a touchable, corporeal form. Right?
I cringed when he stopped right in front of me. If he touched me, I was letting him have it, consequences be damned. When he didn’t, I was both leery and curious.
Without touching, Raoul closed his eyes, took a deep sniff and nodded. “Just like I remember.”
I stepped back, but he kept smelling the place I’d been standing. So weird. “I’m starting to think you’re nothing more than another distraction meant to throw me off so I don’t find my way out of this nuthouse.”
Those dark eyes snapped open, and they were wolf. Against my will I was transfixed, thrown back in time to the first moment I gazed into those eyes, the night I was attacked.
A flurry of memories flashed through my mind. My parents…dead. The sensation of fangs buried in my flesh as I screamed.
“No.” I shook my head. “We’re not doing this, Shya.” He had to be watching this somehow.
Instinctively, I reached for Arys again. Nothing. His absence only added to the suffocating sensation of being trapped, which only strengthened my memory of the attack. The demon had covered his bases. I hadn’t prepared nearly enough for psychological warfare.
“I know you used to have nightmares about what I did to you.” Raoul’s low timbre was gruff with wolf. “I used to dream about it too. I’d wake up with the taste of your blood in my mouth. Then I’d roll over and find you in my bed. I wanted to feel guilty, but I felt lucky, like I’d gotten away with murder.”
I didn’t want to hear this. This man was dead. He shouldn’t be able to fill my head with horrible confessions from beyond the grave.
“You said you were sorry.” Why was he here? Why was he telling me this?
“Everything I said in my letter was true.”
“Then why are you saying this?” My voice rose, and again I searched the illusion for a way out. “You left me that letter, and then I had that vision of you. We were over. You were gone, but I was able to move on. Why ruin that?”
Raoul cocked his head as if listening to something I couldn’t hear. Sadness passed over his face. “He wants me to. He wants you to know that I could never love you the way you wanted me to because you were just a job to me. But that’s not true, Alexa. I did love you. In my own way.”
Shya orchestrated this meeting hoping it would torment me. The malicious demon had ripped open a door to my past, a door I’d closed and moved beyond. Who the fuck did he think he was?
“I get it. Shya’s trying to remind me that you and I never really had any closure. Well I don’t need any. Go back to wherever it is you came from, Raoul. We have nothing to say to each other.”
Raoul was conflicted. A frown created deep furrows in his brow, and he shook his head, rejecting something only he could hear. “I don’t want you to hate me.”
“Then you shouldn’t have slept with my mother and killed her before you slept with me!” Ear piercingly shrill, my shout echoed as if I stood in a much larger room. “You’re as despicable in death as you were in life. I hope the things you’ve done haunt you for all eternity.”
It was cruel, and I felt like shit for saying that, but the emotion that drove such an attack came from the broken teenager that apparently still lived inside me. I’d never be free of her, and Shya knew it. He was exploiting my pain for his own gain. I could only wonder what he was doing to the others.
“Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to look at you everyday knowing what I’d done?” Raoul’s wolf peered out at me, a hungry predator remembering the prey it had conquered.
The cutting way he said that took me right back to every nasty fight we’d ever had. I despised Raoul. With every part of me. There was just one person I had more loathing for, and he was going to end up trapped inside an amulet if I had anything to say about it.
“Raoul, I have hated you since you made it clear I was just another conquest. Now that you’re gone, I miss you, but I still hate you.” Dark emotions bombarded me with toxic feelings
that went against everything I believed in. It hurt to discover how much pain and resentment I still carried. “I hope that one day I can forgive you because this isn’t who I want to be, but I’m not counting on it.”
The vehemence driving my tirade caused a shift in the atmosphere. I felt it, like a pop, and the room wavered. So that was how Shya rigged it; only the power of my wrath would break me free of his illusion. Was Falon also trapped, standing face to face with an unwelcome visitor from the past?
“I loved Katie,” Raoul said my mother’s name like he had a right to. “And I never stopped loving her. What we had, it was special. After she was gone, I refused to let myself love anyone again. Every woman I love dies. That’s why I could never love you.”
Of all the dumbass things anyone had ever said to me, that had to be the most infuriating. Why couldn’t I have been the one to kill him?
I went with my instinct. My hands were around his neck before I could make the conscious decision to lunge. If I hadn’t been so intent on hurting him, I’d have been more impressed that we could touch.
“The women you loved died because you fucking killed them. You killed my mother, and you tried to kill me.” I hit him, and once that first punch landed I couldn’t stop. “You deserved everything you got. I just wish I’d been the one to take you out.”
I was so engrossed in the beating that I didn’t stop to wonder why he wasn’t fighting back. He grunted with each hit, allowing me to knock him about the office. I shoved him into the desk, the wall, and finally the bookshelf. As hard cover copies of various classics rained down, I screamed out my pain.
“You are dead, Raoul. And you need to stay that way.”
The emotional outburst grew at an irrational and unnatural speed, likely fed by demon manipulation. Or else I was harboring more internalized anger than I realized. The Dragon Claw sang with a metallic shing as I drew it from the sheath. With a snarl I swung it with deadly precise aim.
The blade came down hard. My arm vibrated with the impact.
