"Look, it doesn't matter. Raquel doesn't want me. She's made it clear," I stated.
"Have you made you intention clear? Ethan asked.
"Very," I shot back. Under no circumstances would I share my humiliation from two hundred years ago. That was between Raquel and me.
"Do you think it's because you ripped Raquel’s legs off all those years ago?" Astrid asked as she sat forward and clasped her hands together in excitement.
"Possibly… and it wasn't her legs. It was her arm. Only one arm," I added. For a brief moment I contemplated Astrid’s theory and then brushed it aside. "No, how could she be mad about that? She deserved it and it grew back."
Again with the silence.
"She was trying to kill me at the time," I protested. "We're Vampyres. This sort of violence is normal."
"Hmmm… there's a lot you don't know about women," Astrid muttered with an eye roll and an unladylike snort.
"Fine," I relented. "It was a thoughtless move, but I've apologized numerous times over the years for that one."
“Did she ever accept your apology?” she asked.
“No.”
“Then she’s still pissed. I would be fucking furious if someone ripped off my legs,” Astrid declared.
“Arm,” I corrected her.
“Whatever,” she snapped. “I say you offer up your leg, or at least a foot, and let her tear it off. It’s not really normal dating protocol, but we’re Vampyres. I think it might just work.”
“Are you insane?” I hissed.
“Define insane,” she said.
"Enough,” Ethan said. “I believe she's your mate. So does our father.”
My eyes shot to Ethan’s and my chest constricted. Why did all of this have to be so complicated? Mates were supposed to recognize each other. Why couldn't I find someone who wanted me as much as I wanted them?
"Now you just have to convince her," Astrid said logically. “I still think a dismemberment would go a long way.”
“Sweetheart?” Ethan said.
“Yes?”
“I’m quite positive we can come up with a better idea than maiming Heathcliff,” Ethan suggested.
“Fine,” Astrid huffed, put out that her bloody horrid idea had been shot down. “How can he convince her?”
"It won't be easy," Ethan muttered. "She has…"
"What?" I demanded. "She has what?"
"Issues," Ethan replied cryptically. "Issues I'm not at liberty to talk about."
"Wait one fucking minute," Astrid griped. "Why don't I know about Raquel’s issues?"
"Because it's truly not my tale to tell. It's hers and it's not a pretty one," Ethan said as he put Astrid on the couch and began to pace the room again. "Here's what I will say… Raquel has given up her Monarchy of Europe. She has turned her rule over to our brother Gareth."
"But he rules the largest section of Asia.” I was completely shocked by the news. "When did this happen?"
"Right before she came here. My father’s fine with this. He has given his blessing. Gareth is a solid and honest leader, even if he can't seem to keep it in his pants," Ethan said with shrug.
"Will he be at the wedding?" Astrid asked.
“My father?” Ethan asked confused.
Astrid smiled. “No. Your manwhore brother.”
"He wouldn't miss it," Ethan replied. "He adores American Vampyres."
We were getting off track. "I’m a little lost here. Why would Raquel do that? She's one of the finest and deadliest leaders in the world. She's beloved by her people and completely insane. They would die for her," I said as I tried to figure out what would make her give up her birthright.
"That was all really good except for the insane part," Astrid coached.
"Did I say insane?"
"Yep." She nodded.
"Interesting. Well, I meant that, but I didn't mean to say it," I told her.
"I'll let it go this time, but if you say something stupid again, I'll have to zap you. The pain will train you to be more of a gentleman where Raquel is concerned. I'm doing this because I love you, Heathcliff—not because it will be fun to electrocute your ass."
I nodded warily. It was surely a very bad idea. However, I did need to rebuild a filter when I spoke to Raquel.
"This is all well and good," I said as I ran my hand tiredly through my hair. "Everyone in the world can believe we are destined to be together, but if Raquel doesn't—it's not happening."
"I agree. You certainly have your work cut out for you." Ethan shuddered and grimaced. "Good luck."
"Anything else you can tell me?" I asked hopefully.
"Nope, hers to tell."
"That's bullshit," I snapped.
"As is much in life," he replied.
I nodded curtly in frustration and stood to leave.
"Heathcliff, don't worry. I know she wants you too, but something’s holding her back. I'm going to help you get her," Astrid promised.
"I really don't think that I…" I stuttered.
"No, don't thank me," Astrid said as she gave me a hug. "It's my duty as your cousin. I will help you kick ass and get the girl."
I hugged her back and was able to hide my look of sheer horror over her shoulder. Of course Ethan saw it and just grinned. I flipped him off and his grin became a laugh. It wasn't funny. It was my life.
But since I obviously hadn't done too well on my own with it… Hell. Maybe Astrid could help me.
***
"God damn it," I bellowed as my cousin flicked her fingers and almost set my ass on fire. "I didn't say anything bad. Why in the Hell are you zapping me?"
"I'm practicing. It would be a fucking shit show if I zapped your nuts, now wouldn't it?" she snapped.
That shut me up.
I was early to the fight training center. Jean Paul was supposed to meet me at eleven and Astrid had sent word for Raquel to bring Samuel at eleven as well. I had no clue what her plan was, but I didn't care. I wanted to see Raquel. I wanted to know the mystery… and I just plain wanted her.
"Take off your shirt," Astrid instructed.
"What?"
"Your shirt. Take it off. Now."
"Why?" I asked.
"Because Raquel will be here in a few and we need to show off your assets," Astrid explained as if she'd just made a perfectly reasonable request.
"I will not take off my shirt. I'm going to charm her with my wit," I said, right before an electrical volt hit my backside. "Son of a bitch," I shouted as I hopped around in pain.
Grabbing my ass, I shot my cousin a look that had brought armies to their knees. Astrid simply narrowed her eyes.
"Retaliate and your balls are next," she threatened.
"Fine," I grumbled as I removed my shirt, leaving me barefoot and in my low riding sweat pants. "Should I oil my pecs?" I asked sarcastically.
"Oh my Cousin Jesus," she squealed. "That's an awesome idea."
"I was joking."
"Well, I'm not. Do you want me to magic up some oil?"
"Absolutely not," I said.
"You are being an asshat," she muttered. "I'm here to help you."
She punctuated her remark with another zap to my backside.
This brand of help was not working for me.
"They're coming," she whispered with manic excitement. "Act normal."
"If I act normal, you're going to zap my ass right off of my body," I growled.
"Right," she said as she wrinkled her brow in thought. "Then just flex your muscles and stay quiet."
"Not happening," I mumbled and quickly jumped out of the way as another electrical current zoomed toward me.
"You do realize that if you move, I might blow up your balls and your Johnson," she informed me as the rest of the group entered the training room.
"Balls," Samuel yelled as he pointed at me from Raquel's arms.
"That's right, baby boy," Astrid said as she took her child from Raquel. "Nice to see you, Jean Paul and Raquel. Let's get this party started."
<
br /> "Thank you for rearranging my suite last night."
Raquel was not pleased. It was evidenced by her raised eyebrows and an I'd like to kick your ass look on her face.
I opened my mouth to counter her attack with something rude and brilliant and noticed Astrid's twitching fingers. Fuck.
"Yes… well, I'm, ummm… sorry about that," I mumbled and almost laughed at the puzzled look of shock on Raquel's face.
"Why am I here?" Raquel studiously avoided my intense scrutiny of her. She was dressed casually in yoga pants and a t-shirt that hugged her breasts to perfection.
"Because… " Astrid started uncertainly.
"Because we decided that after I train Jean Paul for a bit, you and I could show Samuel some more intricate moves," I explained, pulling the first thing I could think of out of my very sore ass.
Astrid's covert nod of approval made my tense body relax.
Raquel's eyes narrowed slightly but she shrugged and took a seat next to the mat. "Fine. It's your funeral," she mumbled with a charming smile.
"That it is," I shot back with a grin of my own. I also prayed my libido stayed in check while we sparred. I didn't really need to explain erections to Sammy. "You ready, Jean Paul?"
"I am," he said as he bowed formally to me. "Weapons or hand-to-hand?"
"Hand-to-hand," I replied as I returned his bow. "Center of the mat. Relax and blindfold yourself."
"Blindfold, sir?"
"Yep. It's all about feeling the energy. If you want to be the best, you need to be able to feel your enemy, not just see them," I said as I handed him a blindfold and put one on myself.
There were two reasons I did this. One—I would be more focused if I couldn't see Raquel. Two—if I couldn't see her, the potential problem in my pants was more likely to stay calm.
Win—win.
"Begin," I instructed quietly.
Jean Paul was less sure of himself without his sight and became aggressive and sloppy. His punches were strong, but it was easy to take him down.
"Feel me," I commanded. "Don't punch air. Don't waste one single movement."
I demonstrated my instruction with a jab to his head that left him disoriented and on the floor.
"This is foreign to me," he grunted. I felt him stand back up and take a defensive position. "I need to see."
"No," I admonished him. “You don't. Trust your senses and find me. There is power in stillness. Stop flailing about."
He stood quietly and centered himself. To an average observer, it would seem as if nothing was happening. However, they would be very wrong. Jean Paul had found his inner sight and the power that welled from him was impressive. Not enough to make me shudder, but I was the very best. Very few stood a chance against me. Not ego—just fact.
"Take me down," I taunted. "If you can do it, I’ll give you a favor of your choosing."
"A rare gift." Jean Paul chuckled and his body tensed. "And if I fail?"
"You'll owe me a favor."
I felt him consider the offer. Then he struck. And it was glorious.
Violent and balletic, we fought with aggression and purpose. With each punch and roundhouse kick, I felt him grow stronger. I back flipped out of the way as a vicious right hook came at my face. I came right back with a scissor kick to his head that brought him down.
Pinning him to the floor, he struggled and tried to regain the upper hand, but it was over.
"A fine try, but not good enough," I hissed in his ear.
"I want to go again," he grunted as I let up on his throat.
"No… no more today. Wear the blindfold when you aren't on guard and find your center while you're without sight. If you can't… you're worthless."
"I am not worthless," he spat as he removed the material from his eyes.
"We shall see," I countered with a grin.
He was correct, but telling him would be counterproductive. The over protective Frenchman had balls, and training him would be a good distraction. Plus, it would ensure some time to grill him for information—he owed me a favor. Again… win—win. "You're excused, Jean Paul. Go shower and think about what I've said. Tomorrow at eleven again?"
"I will be here, sir. Thank you." He bowed to me and then checked in with his Princess. With a few quietly exchanged words and a quick nod, he left the training room.
Raquel stood and watched me. Her eyes strayed from my face to my body. Color suffused her cheeks and I could scent her desire. Suddenly Astrid's shirtless directive seemed like a brilliant idea—not that I would ever admit that to my cousin. She'd become a bossy monster.
"Are you ready?" I inquired, meaning so much more than the simple question.
"I'm always ready," she said calmly. "P.S.—I like my arm. You remove it again and you lose your head."
"Noted." I grinned and bowed to her. "I'm not guaranteeing that I won't go for your overactive middle finger."
"This one?" she asked as she flipped me off with a grin on her face.
I chuckled and willed my dick to stay asleep. "Yep, that's the one."
"Oh shit," Astrid shouted.
"Shit," Samuel yelled with joy.
"Sammy," Astrid reprimanded him. "Shit is a filthy fucking word. We don't say shitty words like that. You got it?"
"Yep, Mommy. Me got it."
"It's the Baby Demons teaching him that crap," she muttered as she stood up and headed for the door.
"Crap," Sammy shouted and lifted his middle finger to me and Raquel.
"Oh Hell no," Raquel whispered in horror as she watched him wave his chunky little birdie finger all over the place.
"Where are you going?" I called after Astrid as she hightailed it out of the gym.
"I forgot I had a meeting with the motherfucking wedding planner at noon. I'll be back when I can. Don't you two do anything I wouldn't do," she shouted as she left the room.
Well, that certainly didn't leave much.
"Motherfucking," Sammy squealed as they exited the facility.
We stared at each other in silence. Her beauty humbled me. I wanted her to stay. I wanted to throw her to the floor and kiss her senseless. However, that was not the gentlemanly thing to do.
Fuck. What would Astrid do? Grinning at the absurd thought of taking advice from my insane cousin, I decided to stick to the plan already made.
“You still want to fight?" I asked Raquel.
"Sure. I would love to kick your ass," she purred.
"I'd love to bite yours," I shot back.
"If you win, I'll let you… but if I win you have to do my bidding for a day."
Holy Hell—either way I won. "That works for me, Princess.”
“Excellent, my bathroom is filthy,” she purred with an evil smile.
I chuckled and shrugged. She was full of it. The cleaning staff at the compound was outstanding. Her effort to rile me was moot.
“Show me what you got."
"My pleasure," she said as she centered herself and took a defensive stance on the mat.
"No. Trust me—the pleasure is mine."
All mine.
Chapter 6
I was inclined to go easy on her. My mistake.
"After last night I thought I wouldn't see much of you anymore," she said as she violently kicked my legs out from beneath me and tried to pin me.
"You thought wrong," I shot back as I flipped her to her back and held her immobile.
Her body beneath mine was a temptation almost impossible to ignore. However, her need to best me or tear a limb from my body made me push all thoughts of stripping and fucking her to the back of my brain.
"Can we use magic?" she asked as she twisted and attempted to pull free.
"Nope."
Her hips were in line with mine and I could have sworn she was grinding herself against me. Son of a bitch.
"Are you cheating?" I whispered in her ear. Her breasts were smashed against my bare chest and the evidence of my arousal was impossible to miss.
"Possibly," she whisp
ered back with a soft giggle. "Is it working?"
Fashionably Hotter Than Hell: Book Six, The Hot Damned Series Page 5
