by Nina Croft
He pushed her inside and turned to leave. But at the door, he halted and turned back.
“Tell me,” he said. “Did you know?”
“Know?” she asked. But her eyes were wary.
“Last night, when you came so sweetly for me, did you know where Tara was?”
He watched the pulse fluttering in her throat while he held his breath and waited for her answer.
“Yes.”
His fist smashed into the concrete wall. Faith took a step back away from him, but came up against the cot behind her. There wasn’t room to escape him in this tiny room.
Fear darkened her eyes, and a tremor shivered through her. Then she appeared to draw herself up. She controlled her fear and stared him in the eye as if to say—do your worst.
But she had no idea what his worst was. He’d seen her shock when he had killed her boss. Was she expecting the same? He felt his demon rise up inside him, push at his human skin. He had an urge to show her his true self. Afterward, she wouldn’t stand so bravely, daring him to hurt her.
But he didn’t want to hurt her. Even now.
Then alarm flickered in her eyes, and he knew she was only acting. She feared him and that made his anger rise even more.
Had he ever hurt her? He knew he was being illogical but couldn’t stop. He stepped up close. Her hands were still bound behind her back—he’d forgotten to get the key to the cuffs from Carl—so her small breasts pushed outward and suddenly his anger was washed away on a tidal wave of lust.
Her gaze dropped to his mouth. Was she remembering how he tasted? When she raised her gaze, her eyes held something new—hunger.
He took another step so they were almost touching. Panic flared in her face and she edged away and around the cot. This time she came up against the wall behind her and Ash kept coming. He didn’t stop until his chest was touching hers and he could feel her breasts nudging him.
His dick responded in a flash and that pissed him off. How could he want her when she’d betrayed him?
Leaning in close, he rested his palms flat on the wall on either side of her shoulders. He lowered his head and his lips touched hers in the briefest of kisses. Her lashes fluttered closed, and her mouth parted. And he couldn’t resist one more taste.
This time his lips slanted over hers harder, and his tongue pushed slowly inside. As she went still, he felt the tentative flutter of her tongue and heat rushed through his veins.
He shifted so the lower half of his body rested against her belly. A groan rose in her throat.
He backed away so he could watch her reaction. “Do you want me, Faith?” He pressed his hips into her. “Or are you pretending as you no doubt did last night.”
She hadn’t pretended, but something pushed him to taunt her. Although she responded to his kisses, he could almost sense her distancing herself from him and that made his fury spring back to life. He needed to hurt her, like he was hurting.
“Or do you find it a turn on for me to kiss you while you’re bound and helpless.”
“Why? Does it give you a buzz to kiss women who are tied up?”
He answered truthfully. “Yeah.”
Shock flared in her face.
“Usually they ask me nicely first though.”
Suddenly the fight drained from her. Her body sagged against the wall, whether to distance herself from him or because she didn’t have the energy to hold herself up anymore, he didn’t know.
He levered himself away from her, stepped back, and turned. It took an effort; he still wanted her, but if he took her now it would be a sort of rape even if she didn’t fight him. She didn’t have the energy to fight him either mentally or physically.
And he still felt too angry. Anger and desire, and a whole load of other emotions he wasn’t sure he wanted to identify, tangled inside him. He wasn’t sure what he might say if pushed, and she appeared at the end of her tether. And he realized he didn’t want her to hurt any more. Whatever she had done; it hadn’t been easy.
Suddenly, he saw things from her point of view. He’d been thinking of her as a traitor. But if she was, it wasn’t him she had betrayed, but her own people. Ryan had said all she had ever wanted to be was a detective. This would put an end to that.
He turned back to her and stopped, shock jabbing him hard as he studied her face.
A tear welled up in one eye. It spilled over and rolled down her cheek.
Shit. She was crying. He hadn’t meant to make her cry.
He opened his mouth. Closed it again.
What could he say?
He headed for the door. She spoke as he opened it.
“I’m glad you got Tara back.”
“So am I,” he replied and stalked out.
…
Faith stared at the closed door.
He hated her.
And wanted her.
For a moment, she allowed herself the luxury of crying. It wasn’t something she did often. In fact, until the last few days, it had never occurred to her to cry. Now she let the tears fall. She reckoned she was allowed a little self-indulgence under the circumstances. But once she started, she couldn’t stop. She slid down the wall and sat on the floor, legs stretched out in front of her, bawling like an idiot. A stupid fucking idiot, who should have known better than to allow herself to care about a man she knew nothing about. Except that he looked like a scary badass and acted like a scary badass and had lots of scary badass friends and could kill a man in a second without showing a flicker of remorse.
She didn’t want to care for anyone. She’d never wanted that. And if she had it would have been a “nice” man.
And Ash hated her. And his son-in-law wanted her dead. And even if they didn’t kill her, she was dying anyway.
She bawled some more. It felt good, but then her nose started to run, and she couldn’t do anything about it because her stupid hands were tied behind her stupid back. Her shoulder ached where she had taken the bullet.
Did they mean to leave her like this forever?
Or right up until the point where they snapped her neck like a twig, or Christian Roth ripped her throat out with his teeth. But her mind shied away from that image. Finally, her tears dried up.
She sniffed. Time to stop feeling sorry for herself. Shifting on her bottom, she tried to get comfortable but it was impossible. Well, maybe she could do something about that. Wriggling, she slid her hands beneath her ass and down under her legs, ignoring the pain in her shoulder. With a little contortionism, she managed to thread her wrists underneath her feet, and then her hands were in front of her.
She rolled her shoulders; it felt good. Pushing herself to her feet, she examined her accommodation.
About nine feet by nine feet, white walls, a glass panel in the door, and if she wasn’t mistaken, a small camera in the corner where the ceiling met the walls. Was someone watching her? She avoided looking at it.
At least there was a tiny bathroom, with a toilet and a sink. No shower but she wouldn’t have felt right showering wondering if someone might be watching. She stuck her head under the tap and gulped down the cold water, then splashed her face.
Her cheek stung, but she scrubbed at it anyway, cleaning off the dried blood. Blood also stained her shirt, but she couldn’t do anything about that. Finally, she went back into the main room and curled up on the cot bed.
She closed her eyes but images flashed up, teeth and blood. Her mind screamed in denial, and she sat up instead and leaned back against the wall.
A lot of people had died tonight. Including the colonel. But she couldn’t bring herself to feel any sadness over his passing. What he’d done to Tara was wrong. Totally wrong. He was supposed to be on the side of the good, and he shouldn’t have done bad things. For that alone, she hated him. She’d always been so sure. Always known there were bad guys and good guys and she was good. And he’d made her doubt that.
At least Ash made no pretense of being good. But did that mean he was bad?
She didn�
�t know anymore.
At the start of all this, she’d been so sure of what she wanted. If she could solve Julie’s murder, bring the killer to justice, then she would get some closure for all those that hadn’t been solved. Including her mother’s. And then, if she was going to die, she could do so, if not happy, at least with a measure of satisfaction that she had achieved something with her life.
But maybe there was no such thing as closure. Not for her anyway.
A jab of pain stabbed at the back of her skull. She closed her eyes in the hope it would go away. But the jab came again, repeated over and over, until it was a continuous ache.
“Crap.”
…
Ash let himself into the office. Christian was already there, sitting on the black leather sofa, still holding on to Tara. She’d showered and changed and looked much better; her face was still bruised, but her eyes were clear.
She glanced up and gave him the second genuine smile he had ever received from her. At least something good had come of this.
Ryan, Carl, and Jonas were also present, in a huddle by the window. Ryan glanced up as he shut the door behind him. “Is Faith okay?”
Ash shrugged. Were any of them okay right now?
Carl crossed to the desk and switched on the monitor. Ryan went over and Ash followed slowly. He hated the thought of them watching Faith, but he still couldn’t resist.
She was sitting on the bed, her back against the wall, her legs stretched out in front of her. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and her eyes were closed. She blinked them open as though she could sense someone watching. They were red-rimmed.
Ryan turned to him. “Shit, she’s been crying. What the hell did you do to her, you bastard?”
“Nothing.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, and if I did, it would be none of your fucking business. This is between me and Faith.”
“You leave her alone.”
“Actually,” Christian said. “We need to decide what to do with her. If she set Tara up, I want her dead.”
Ash turned on him with a snarl. “You don’t set a finger on her.”
Christian’s eyes widened, and he raised a brow in question. “So what do we do with her? If she betrayed us, should we let her walk away?”
“She didn’t betray us,” Carl pointed out. “How could she betray us when she was never on our side? What she did do was betray her own people when she told us about Tara.”
Ash was glad Carl had said this so he didn’t have to. He was already getting some strange glances from around the room.
“And, Christian, I don’t think she set it up,” Tara said. “For one thing, I contacted her. Maybe she could have told her employers about the meeting, but I don’t think so. She was totally shocked when the attack happened and she was shot.”
“Maybe to make it more realistic.”
“Maybe, but I don’t think so. I was there. She wanted to save us. I told her they were after Roz; otherwise she would have protected me. I’m sure of it.”
“Why don’t you go and question her?” Carl said. “Use a little vampire persuasion—you’ll get the truth and we can decide what to do next.”
“You don’t mess with her mind,” Ryan said.
Christian rose to his feet. “We’ll do what we need to do to get the truth.”
“Let me try talking to her, first.” Ryan said. “Faith is the most honest person I know. You can watch and if you think she’s still lying, then go ahead.”
Christian paced the room, but the darkness that had been such a part of him for the last few days had receded, still inside him, but slumbering. In the grip of that darkness, he’d been unable to reason, and if Tara had died, Ash was sure that it would have consumed him and his revenge would have been devastating. Vampires were among the most powerful of the supernatural races, and Christian was one of the strongest he had ever come across. He doubted anyone would have been able to control him if he’d gone rogue. Ash might be more powerful down in the Abyss, but here on Earth, Christian was stronger.
Now he was able to think clearly again, and Ash wasn’t worried that he would kill indiscriminately. He nodded. “Try it then, but if there’s any doubt she’s telling the truth, I question her next.”
“Okay. Should I go now?” Ryan asked.
“Why not?”
Ash wanted to go with him, but he suspected Faith would talk more freely without him present. Ryan headed for the door. As he passed, Carl handed him a key, presumably for the cuffs.
Ash turned back to the monitor. Faith hadn’t moved, but a frown formed between her eyes and she lifted her hand to rub the back of her head.
Headache.
She’d had a headache that first night he had kissed her. He picked up the phone and pressed reception. “Graham, can you send some painkillers down to the cells. Ryan is on his way there now. Oh and some coffee.” She liked coffee.
He replaced the receiver and glanced up to find everyone staring at him.
“She has a headache,” he muttered, then wished he’d kept his mouth shut as Carl grinned at him. Bloody cocky werewolf.
He stalked around the desk and sat in the big leather seat. He might as well make himself comfortable. He hoped that he wasn’t going to hear anything he really didn’t like.
Putting his booted feet up on the desk, he tried to appear as though it really didn’t matter.
And why did he have the idea that he wasn’t fooling anyone?
Chapter Seventeen
Faith pried open her eyes and blinked through the pain. The edges of her vision remained blurred, the room indistinct around her.
Wasn’t this the time she was supposed to take herself straight to hospital? She stared at the cell door.
Oh well, there wasn’t a lot they could do anyway apart from monitoring her and keeping down the pain. Though that sounded good right now.
The lock clicked, and she braced herself for company. She wasn’t sure she could face more of Ash right now. But when the door opened it was Ryan, and she almost started bawling again, it was so good to see him.
“Hey, how are you doing?” he asked.
“I’ve been better.”
Ryan stepped into the room. He held a small silver key in his hand and she stretched out her wrists in relief.
She was rubbing her arms when a second figure appeared in the doorway accompanied by the waft of freshly brewed coffee. She recognized the young, red-haired man she’d seen at the reception desk that first day.
He searched around for somewhere to put the tray, failed to find anywhere, and placed it on the floor by the cot. Then he reached into his pocket and brought out a small glass bottle.
“Ash said you could use some painkillers. They’re the strongest I could find.”
Faith stared at the bottle, then up at the small camera in the corner. “Is he watching?”
Ryan nodded. “Him and a few others.”
“Oh.” She supposed it was unavoidable. And he’d noticed she had a headache and done something about it. He couldn’t hate her that much. “Thank you.”
She took the bottle into the bathroom, took two of the tablets, and washed them down with water from the tap. When she went back, Ryan was alone and he was holding out a mug of steaming coffee. She took it, cradled it in her hands, and went and sat on the cot.
Ryan was silent while she sipped the drink. The painkillers acted almost immediately, the headache waning, but also the throb of her shoulder and various other parts of her body faded. She sighed in relief. Finally, when she could put it off no longer, she put the empty mug down and faced Ryan. “So?” she said.
“Did you arrange to meet Tara that night for the express purpose of abducting her?”
Just like Ryan to get straight to the point. “No.”
“You had no idea that was going down.”
“No. They must have had my phone monitored. They picked up the call from Tara and decided to act on it. I’m guessing it was s
pur of the moment.” She thought back. “I think my boss was being hassled by his superiors about getting results and decided to act.”
“So when did you know about Tara?”
She bit her lip, glanced at the camera, and shrugged. “From the moment I was shot. Though it didn’t come back to me until I was in the hospital. I recognized the shooter. He’s one of the guards at MI13.”
Ryan frowned. At a guess, that wasn’t what he’d wanted to hear. She didn’t care; she was past lying. If they didn’t like it they could…well they could do what they liked. It hardly mattered now.
“And you didn’t think to mention that little fact when you spoke to us that night.”
Some of her self-pity dissolved to be replaced by a spark of anger. It felt good. She jumped to her feet and jabbed her finger in Ryan’s chest.
“Fuck off, Ryan, you sanctimonious prick,” she snarled. “I’m not the one who left the force to work for God knows who. I don’t know what Christian Roth is, but I’m guessing it’s something dodgy.”
He grinned. Then the smile faded. “You still don’t know what he is? Or are you so stubborn that you won’t admit it? Can’t you accept that you were wrong? That the monsters do exist?”
At his words, panic clawed at her mind, held her in a viselike grip. The wall rose up inside her head, dark, tall, and forbidding, and behind it were all manner of horrors. She shook her head trying to dislodge the sensation, then realized she didn’t want the wall gone. The wall kept her safe. If she ever saw behind it…
She repeated the mantra from her childhood.
The monsters don’t exist. The monsters don’t exist.
“Faith?”
She clamped her eyes closed and saw fangs and blood. So much blood. Her mind skittered away from the thought as it always did. “I can’t. It’s like there’s a wall in my head. The monsters don’t exist.”
Ryan shoved his hands in his pockets. “Okay, we’ll leave it for now. Tell me what happened next.”
“When I went into work the next day, I admitted I knew it was them and told the colonel I had no problems with it. That I’d do what was needed to get the job done.”
“And would you?”
She thought of Tara strapped to that table. “No. There are lines you don’t cross. Not ever.”
