by Vic Tyler
His eyes crinkle as he smiles. “I was going to take you out for ice cream after school, but that’s fine.”
Oh, my god.
Damien’s really here! Picking me up from school!
I sputter a bunch of nonsense. “No! It’s okay. I can go.”
As I’m about to shoot off a text to tell my friends that I changed my mind, Damien stops me with a stern look. “Go have fun. I’ll be around since Tom took the day off, and we can get ice cream before we go home.”
My pulse races.
Home.
Without another word, I bolt out of the car and dive into the front seat, relishing the tiny flash of surprise in Damien’s face before it’s masked.
Dressed casually in black jeans and a black sweater, he looks more like a college student than he does a hitman.
My chest swells, already forgiving and forgetting the incident I saw yesterday.
I can’t help that Damien and Kitty are together. It was just shocking to see it in person when they don’t normally do PDA.
But I know Damien still cares about me, even if it’s just as a sister, and if that’s all I can get, I’ll take it.
We talk — or rather, I talk — during the short drive to the mall.
Damien wants to know all about school. I think there’s a part of him that’s curious too because he hasn’t gone to school since he joined the Blood Trials. So I tell him as much as possible, more than he could possibly want to know.
At the mall, I walk around with my friends, trying to pay attention to what they’re saying. Talking about the boys in our classes, complaining about homework and tests, squealing about the things we see in the windows before we go in and they try things on.
But I’m constantly glancing over my shoulder at the darkly clothed figure following me from a distance.
The whole time, Damien and I share little smiles, and I try not to pay too much attention to him, but it’s impossible.
“Did you get a new bodyguard?” Jenny’s eyes rake appreciatively over Damien’s body. “Where did you find him? He’s so hot.”
I shrug, nibbling on the straw to my chocolate milkshake. Jenny gushes on, telling me everything I already know about him.
“Wow, that jawline.” She fans herself. “And look at those arms. I bet he has a six–pack, no, an eight–pack under there.” Huh… Now that I think about it, I’ve never seen him shirtless. “And his dick is so big!”
Choking on my milkshake, I whip my head to her, mouth gaping open. “What?”
“Yeah,” she says, distinctly eyeing him… nowhere near his face.
Grabbing her head, I whip it in the opposite direction, but I can’t help peeking over my shoulder.
Luckily, Damien’s on the phone, busy talking and scanning the surroundings.
“Ugh, thank god those jeans are tight,” Jenny swoons.
It’s not that his jeans are tight. His thighs are muscular, and now that she mentioned it, the denim on one of his thighs is noticeably stretched more taut than the other. And when he moves, there’s a rod–like shape that snakes down his thigh.
Oh, my god.
As she fights against my hands to look at him, Jenny makes lewd slurping noises. “And his ass looks so fine.”
It really does.
Shoving Jenny forward, I try to block her vision as much as possible.
“I bet he fucks really well too,” she says way too loudly.
“Shh,” I hiss, feeling my cheeks heat furiously.
When I glance back, Damien’s staring at us, obviously having heard, but I can’t tell what he’s thinking.
“Have you tried riding that thing? Do you think it’d even fit?” Jenny continues to ponder aloud like she wants everyone to hear her.
A dark look flashes through Damien’s face as his eyebrows knit together.
My face flushes, and I should look away from him, but I don’t. I can’t. It’s a look I’ve never seen on his face before.
“It’ll probably hurt when he pops your cherry —”
My hand slaps onto her mouth, and she yelps under my palm.
I grit through clenched teeth, “He has a girlfriend.”
A wicked smile tugs her lips up. “I knew it. That’s the guy you like, isn’t it?” Her eyes widen, and she finally lowers her voice in an excited whisper, “Is that Damien?”
Instinctively, my eyes dart back at Damien. His expression is impassive now, but his stare is still intensely directed at us.
“Nothing could ever happen,” I mutter, gnawing on my straw.
With a mischievous look on her face, she nudges me suggestively. “Just because there’s a goalie doesn’t mean you can’t score.”
“Speaking of goalies,” I quickly say. “Aren’t you going on a date with Trent on Friday?”
Eager to fangirl over our school’s star soccer goalie, Jenny gushes excitedly as she catches me up on her newest crush and his sexy smile and cute butt.
I try to pay attention. I really do. But after another half hour, I make a clumsy and awkward excuse to leave.
Ignoring Jenny’s wink, I run to Damien who smiles as I approach, and my lips automatically pull back into a wide grin.
“Had fun?”
“Uh huh.” I shrug, nervously talking through the straw in my mouth. I spent more time anxiously chewing on my straw than I did drinking the milkshake. The plastic is completely flat and punctured with bite marks. “Did you?”
He laughs. “It was fun watching you.”
My cheeks flush with heat. “What’s so fun about that?”
“You looked happy.”
I shrug. I can’t exactly tell him that I was happy because he was there.
When I peek at Damien, I’m startled to find him staring. At my mouth.
A strange rush of heat flows through me, tickling its way downward.
He doesn’t stop staring, not the least bit embarrassed or affected when he meets my eyes. “Do you always chew your straws?”
I’m sure my face is bright red, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Sometimes.”
“Huh.” He gently tugs it away from my mouth. “You’re going to hurt yourself like that.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not a kid anymore.”
His expression blanks as he says, “Yeah, you’re not.”
The mood feels heavy as we look at each other. It’s almost like he’s acknowledging that I’m not the baby sister he always seemed to think I was.
“I’m a fully–grown woman now,” I say with a cautious huff. Testing.
He smiles. “Is that so?” Chuckling, he faces forward as we approach the car. “You’re old enough to be talking about boys —” He pauses. “— and other things.”
Heat radiates off my face, but I raise my chin shamelessly. “Yeah, we talk about sex all the time.”
My friends talk about sex all the time. I listen to them, not exactly telling them that I never experienced pleasure. Only pain.
They think my silence in their conversations means that I’m still a virgin, but they don’t know how wrong that is.
Damien doesn’t respond, and we get in the car.
It’s almost like he’s bothered. Or disturbed.
But I’m not a little girl anymore. I don’t want to be the tragic raped and pimped child that he feels like he has to protect.
I’m a woman.
Or… At the very least, I want to be a woman in his eyes.
“Adriana,” he starts hesitantly. “About yesterday…”
My heart pangs as I’m reminded of what’s been plaguing me all day.
He doesn’t need to explain. Or apologize.
I just don’t want to hear him talking about it.
“It’s okay,” I blurt out. “It was an accident. For me to walk in on you and Kitty. I mean, walk out. Into the hallway.”
He grimaces. “No, we shouldn’t have been doing that out in the open. I didn’t mean to leave you alone for that long. We just… got carried away.”
I shift uncomf
ortably. “It’s normal when you haven’t seen your girlfriend for a few days.”
“Wait, what?” He’s utterly dumbfounded to the point that he misses the traffic signal turning green, and the car behind us honks noisily. “‘Girlfriend’?” He halts, and the gears in his head spin so fast I expect steam to blow out of his ears. “Kitty?”
“Yeah.” I frown. “You and Kitty…”
He suddenly bursts out laughing. “What made you think that? Kitty and I aren’t dating.”
“What? But you said she was your girlfriend.”
“No, I didn’t.” He shakes his head vehemently like the idea offends him. “No fucking way. Oops. Shit. I mean… err… no, we’re not together.”
“But…” My voice trails.
He sighs, running his hand through his hair. His lips press tightly together before he reluctantly continues, “Kitty and I just… have fun occasionally.”
“For years?” I ask incredulously, too bewildered to feel anything else. “Isn’t that totally relationship–y?”
He rubs the back of his neck, looking extremely uncomfortable.
“No, not for us,” he says begrudgingly. “It’s more of a matter of proximity and convenience.”
My mind blanks out of a response as I try to process this new information.
Damien isn’t dating Kitty. This whole time, they were never together–together.
But that means, they’re… what? Friends with benefits?
I guess it makes sense why they didn’t explain it to me when I was younger. I don’t think I would’ve understood it then, not like I do now.
When the silence goes on for too long, feeling more intense when we’re stuck inside a car together, the awkward tension makes me cave in.
As my entire body perspires, I stammer something random to change the subject.
We talk with stilted unease, and when it gets to be a little too much, we fall silent for the rest of the drive home.
When we pull up to West’s complex and enter the building, Damien suddenly steps in front of me and stops.
I crash into his hard back, and his muscles are tense.
When I try to step around him, he holds his arm out, motioning for me to stay back.
Peeking over his shoulder, I see a tall, blond stranger standing in the middle of the foyer. His pale eyes lock with mine, and they’re filled with a curiosity that I’m not unfamiliar with.
A lot of people who come to West’s mansion usually look at me funny, probably wondering why a civilian is hanging around here when I’m not part of the staff.
The only thing different about this stranger is that he has a small suitcase by his feet.
“Who are you?” Damien’s voice is flat and low but threatening.
The blond stranger cocks his head, continuing to stare at me for a few more moments. Then, his gaze slides to Damien. “Kaden Eurus.”
The name must mean something to Damien because his voice eases but his stance doesn’t. “The exchange isn’t in effect until next month.”
Kaden smiles, and I notice that he’s actually pretty handsome.
He looks like he should be wearing a polo with a sweater tied around his shoulders and a pair of khakis, sitting in some country club. But instead, he’s wearing all dark clothing, just like Damien.
Is that an official standard–issue uniform, or do all these people just like wearing dark colors?
“Cardinal Westlake cleared me to come early and settle in,” Kaden says, curiously peering at me again.
“Is that so?” Damien growls, his skin bristling. When he shifts to block my vision, I don’t move this time. “Then, he’ll be expecting you in his office.”
“‘Fraid I don’t know where that is,” Kaden says breezily. “Mind showing me the way?” His voice lowers sympathetically. “If you’re too busy, maybe the little lady won’t mind.” He laughs sheepishly like he’s embarrassed about being lost. “I’ll take what I can get.”
I can feel Damien getting mad, and I can’t tell why. But I grab his arm before he can do anything.
If Kaden is West’s guest, then Damien shouldn’t have to worry.
Tugging him back, I step around and shoot Damien a stern look.
But his jaw is clenched tight as he watches Kaden with narrowed eyes.
Seeing Damien act like this is starting to scare me. “I’ll take him to West’s office —”
“No,” he says in a dark, clipped tone. “Go upstairs.”
My heart pounds erratically at the authoritative command in his voice. He’s never spoken so harshly to me before.
“Now, Adriana,” he demands sharply when I don’t move.
Nodding wordlessly, I run up the stairs.
“Bye Adriana,” Kaden calls out.
I glance back to find him smiling and waving in my direction.
How he can be so relaxed when Damien’s anger is radiating off him is a wonder.
Without waving back, I sprint straight to my room.
chapter twenty-two
Motherfucker.
This sandy haired bastard figured me out in one look, and it fucking excited him.
I could feel it in his stare. His hands were twitching, fingering the knife in his pocket. And he let me see it, knowing Adriana’s a civilian, that she wouldn’t understand.
He was threatening her, and he’s not going to let this go.
Adriana’s in trouble, especially if he finds out how West feels about her.
Who the hell thought this was going to be a good idea?
Good will between the factions be damned. I’ll join the goddamned war if it means keeping Adriana safe and away from the rest of these bloodthirsty animals.
When we get to West’s office, Kitty’s sitting on the edge of his desk, casually swinging her long legs.
Eastwood’s stooge openly checks her out, even with West standing right there.
Fucking shameless.
West doesn’t react at Kaden’s presence or introduction, looking unperturbed and almost bored.
“East sends his regards,” Kaden says lightly. “Said to feel free and send your rep whenever you like. I’d like to meet him before he leaves.”
I wouldn’t be surprised if he wants to fight before I go. But before anyone can confirm the western representative, Kitty interrupts.
“So certain a man will be going?” she purrs.
Kaden studies her, partially because she’s irresistible to look at when she’s smiling and moving like you’re trapped in a different time–space dimension with her.
“I sincerely hope it’s not you,” he says in a low, suggestive tone. “I wouldn’t want to see your beautiful self shipped back like a jigsaw puzzle. It’s no job for a woman.” He smiles as he shrugs dramatically. “The women in our Twelve are women only by name. There’s nothing womanly about them.” His eyes rake hungrily over Kitty.
“How scary.” She pouts. “It’d be such a shame if my pretty face got hurt, right, West?”
Ignoring their banter, West flips through a folder in his hands. “Take the rest of the afternoon to settle in, and report back in the evening for your first assignment.”
Kitty jumps off the desk in a graceful leap and saunters to Kaden, her hips swaying.
Brushing her fingers against his chest, she gazes at him, batting her emerald eyes. “I’ll show you to your room.”
The tiniest tinge of concern flashes through me.
He doesn’t bother to hide his lust for her. I know she’s more than capable of taking care of herself, but without knowing what he’s capable of, I can’t help worrying about Kitty.
Before they leave, West says, “I’m sure Eastwood told you I don’t tolerate unnecessary conflict with civilians.” He smiles, gingerly closing the folder in his hands. “They’re strictly off–limits.”
The smile on Kaden’s face widens as he glances at me. “Of course.”
“There won’t be another warning.” West tosses the folder on the desk. “I’d hate
to send Eastwood his own puzzle to piece back.”
Kaden’s grin falters the tiniest bit, but he nods and follows Kitty out.
The door closes, and West turns my way, waiting for me to state why I stayed.
Instead, I ask, “He has a history with civilians?”
The Cardinal’s black gaze is unreadable. I wait long enough to see if he’ll say anything, but he doesn’t.
Resisting an irritated sigh, I say, “I can’t go to New York.”
“You can, and you will.” His voice is firm with no room for negotiation in it.
His face is set with no trace of surprise or indignation, like he already knew I’d say this.
But he doesn’t know. He didn’t see Kaden look at her. “Adriana —”
“— is exactly why you need to go.”
He sighs loudly, and the sound startles me.
I almost don’t dodge in time as the letter opener zings an inch away from my face.
West immediately closes the distance between us, impossibly limber for a man of his size, and his fist is a missile zeroing in on my side.
Unable to move back in time, I bring up my hands and drop my body, blocking his punch.
Before he can pull back, my fist flies up, just barely grazing the strands of his white beard.
He uses his momentum to kick my stomach, throwing me back but not enough to do any real damage.
He doesn’t stop and keeps coming at me in a flurry of hits.
Seriously. When does he find the time to train and fight?
Whipping out my knife, I drive the sharp edge against his neck, stopping just before it slices skin.
A carousel of emotions staccato through me.
Triumph, satisfaction, exhilaration, glee, doubt, suspicion.
His breathing is only fractionally heavier, and I take measured breaths, trying to hide the fact that my heart is racing.
My mind and body flood with unease at the smirk on his face.
Why? Why is he smirking?
It was easy cornering him like this.
Was it too easy?
I’ve gotten stronger, but West has always been the strongest.
I hear the door open behind me, and his gaze flickers past me before softening, his mocking grin easing into a genuine smile.
Shit. Adriana.
I quickly sheathe my knife, cursing to myself.
