“I don’t remember telling you my name,” Mira said, her tone suspicious. Then her gaze fell to the two corpses and her eyes widened, locked on Argus’s face.
Kagan recognized the signs of shock in the girl’s blanched features. He reached into the shadows, yanked her free, and clamped an arm around her waist. “Later. Now hold on and shut your eyes.” Mira opened her mouth, but Kagan held up a hand. “Don’t argue, dammit.”
She threw her arms around him so hard he swayed, blood loss making him unsteady. He managed to stay upright by sheer force of will. Che palle! I’m returning the donna ingrata to Divinity at first opportunity!
Kagan gave the crowd a psychic suggestion, altering their memory of the shooting. His silent plea for patience went unanswered as Mira continued to fidget in his embrace, and he wished his abilities included mind control. No such luck.
“Shut your eyes.” Exhaustion laced his tone. Mira stuck out her tongue. Kagan gave up the fight. “Fine. Suit yourself.”
A bright light flashed, and Mira’s screams echoed as the world fell away.
• • •
Pure chaos howled from every direction. Mira squeezed her eyes shut, her arms locked tight around her abductor. Pulled in twenty directions at once, all sense of equilibrium lost, she refused to release her grip. Then, as fast as the maelstrom started, it ended. Her feet touched down on solid earth. The world continued to spin in nauseating circles and she burrowed closer to Kagan, seeking stability. Dammit! I will not toss my cookies in front of this guy!
He pried her stiff fingers from his waist, his deep chuckle resounding through her thumping skull. “We’re here, piccola. You can let go now.”
Mira opened her eyes. The glass-lined wall opposite her offered a panoramic view of the Chicago skyline. Kagan cleared his throat, drawing attention to the fact she was still huddled against him. She jumped away. Kagan shrugged out of his jacket to reveal two holes in his shirt near his right shoulder. Tan skin winked from beneath as he moved about. The right side of his discarded coat was soaked with blood, which explained the red splotches on her clothes. Yet he didn’t show any outward signs of pain, his face stoic and his actions fluid. Weird.
Kagan turned to face her again and Mira’s lowered gaze snagged on the bulge of his crotch. A second throat clearing brought her eyes flying to his. Did he catch that? Yeah, considering the shit-eating grin on his face, he did.
“If you’re done checking out the equipment, then we have things to discuss.” His smile increased in direct proportion to the heat in her cheeks. She approached, tingles dancing a jig in her stomach and her Bitchy Meter hovering at Critical.
“Okay, let’s get one thing straight.” She poked a finger into his chest. “I wasn’t ‘checking out’ any equipment.” Her words were accented by air quotes. “Not like you should be surprised anyway, when you parade around in jeans molded to your … ” She trailed off, her breath hitched. Shit!
“Si. To my what?” He surveyed himself then shot her an amused glance, his head tilted to the side.
Mira paced, her hands flying as she spoke. “You show up out of nowhere, stalk me, kidnap me, and now you’ve taken me God knows where for whatever kink you have planned. Hate to disappoint you, jackass, but you got the wrong perspective on this whole deal. And ‘we’ don’t have anything to discuss, understand? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get home.”
She darted around him, but he grabbed her arm. “Si, that’d be nice, except you’re not going anywhere. Not tonight.”
Mira wrested her arm free and caught his momentary cringe, though his grip remained firm. “Dammit! How badly are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.” He released her to pull a bottle out of the fridge and waved it in the air. “Want one?”
She made a face. “No, I hate beer. What I want is to go home.”
“Not going to happen, Mira.” He coughed, his right arm held tight to his side. “You’re stuck here. At least for tonight.”
He grabbed a bottle of water instead and cracked the lid open before handing it to her. After a thorough inspection, Mira took a tentative sip. Her first drink soon turned into large, unladylike gulps, an attempt to slack her sudden, unquenchable thirst. Ignoring the curious stare of her unanticipated host, she moved away from the kitchen area to explore the rest of the apartment, still maintaining a watchful eye on the front door.
In keeping with the warehouse theme, everything was sparse, industrial. The black leather furniture and paint smelled new. She squinted at the back of the coffee table. Is that a price tag? It was time for some answers.
She located him with his back to the skyline view, watching her. “Who are you?”
“I was sent here to protect something.” His eyes narrowed as he raised his beer.
Mira met his direct gaze. “You think I have this thing you’re protecting?”
They stared at each other from across the room. A standoff minus the guns. He was the first to look away, handing her the small victory. Lips pursed and head bowed, he rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re what I’m protecting, Mira.”
She blinked, mouth open. Mira took one last swig of water then placed the bottle down with a muffled thud. She pasted on a smile. Time to get the hell out of crazy town! “Well, this has been fun!”
Mira dashed for the exit. Her hand closed around the knob, too late. His massive body pressed her against the door, preventing escape. Panic squeezed the air from her lungs. Hot fingers of dread forced her racing heart into overdrive.
“You can’t keep me here,” Mira said, her speech rushed. “I’ll find a way out. And then I’ll call the police on your psycho ass!”
He shifted, his chin brushing the top of her head before his cheek came to rest near her temple, his lips tickling the crest of her ear as he spoke. His low chuckle bumped along her synapses, creating a discombobulating rush of excitement through her nerves. “Good girl, Mira. Your spirit will keep you alive.”
His cologne, vanilla and sandalwood and some other indefinable scent, enveloped her. Kagan’s warm breath fanned her cheek and his heat radiated into her back. Her body began to respond despite the danger — or maybe because of it — and her eyes slid closed in desperation. She fought to regain control, her voice tight with constricted emotion. “You have no idea what I’ve done to survive.”
Mira dropped her forehead to the cool metal door. She took a deep breath. He curved closer and her buttocks brushed against his pelvis. The growing ridge in his jeans signaled his mutual interest. Mira resisted the crazy urge to collapse into his strength, to let him take her burden.
“Those skills will serve you well, piccola.” His lips brushed her temple and her senses, too long deprived, ceded the battle before it was even waged.
• • •
Kagan pressed closer into Mira’s soft curves, one hand braced on the door beside her head, the other covering hers on the knob. His warrior instincts screamed for him to pull back at her surrender, yet his body folded further around hers. Her fragrance surrounded him, spicy-sweet and exotic. His traitorous cock continued to respond to the enticement of warm, soft female pressed close and he stifled a groan. Kagan fought to master his errant desire, his fist slamming against the metal door. She froze beneath him. He did not lose control like this. Ever.
He exhaled and the moist air ghosted her heated flesh, rewarding him with her shiver. Kagan couldn’t resist one last press of his hips into her soft backside, a last scent of her hair before he whispered in her ear, “Please sit and I’ll answer your questions as best I can, si?”
She gave a brief nod and he allowed her enough space to move away. He tracked her movement to the kitchen table where she sank into a chair. Her hands trembled when she reached for her water. She looked as shaken as he felt. Kagan gazed skyward, thankful for the distance. He didn’t trust himself to leave her alon
e if she’d stayed close. Dai! Too long without a woman. That must be the explanation.
He turned the lock and pulled his shirt from his jeans to camouflage his rampant erection. Cristo! He’d not been this randy since his Roman youth. He grabbed his beer and straddled the chair across from hers.
She continued to fiddle with her water, refusing to look at him. Finally, she plunked the bottle down on the table and fixed him with a determined stare. “Tell me how you knew my name. And then explain to me why you’re not dead or in an ER somewhere.”
He eyed her. She was as restless as wary prey. He noted both the glint of irritation in her eyes and the dark circles beneath them. Tired and bitchy. Never a good combination. Kagan flashed her what he hoped was a reassuring smile and took a deep breath. “I know your name, Mira, because of the mission.” He continued when she didn’t answer. “To protect you.”
She crossed her arms. “You said that before. What exactly are you protecting me from?”
Kagan shook his head. “Not what. Who.”
“The man at the club?”
“And anybody else who makes a play for the Se — ” Kagan coughed. “You.”
Her brow furrowed. “How do you know him?”
“We have … history.” He took another swig of beer. Mira shuddered and his gaze narrowed. Had he mistaken her reaction as shock? Could it have been something else? His warrior instincts went haywire. No way was she familiar with Argus, but what about his host? “Why?”
She covered a second shudder with a shrug. “The man you killed. We have history, too.” Mira took a long drink of water then snorted. “You don’t have to worry about anybody ‘making a play.’” Again with the air quotes. Kagan was beginning to find her gestures oddly … endearing. “I’m not winning any beauty pageants with this look.”
In seconds, Kagan’s brain switched from suspicious warrior to aroused male. Despite her ravaged shirt, he found nothing off-target. He remembered the way her soft curves had pressed into him at the door and knew nothing was amiss with the concealed parts, either. His crotch tightened anew. He shifted to safer realms.
“What’s wrong with you? Besides, they aren’t coming for your body. They’re after what’s inside.”
“What do you mean, what’s inside?” Mira scanned the rest of the room. “Is this Alien Abductions, because there’s nothing inside me.”
Kagan checked his watch. So much for a quick mission. “You’re going to have to trust me for now. My commander will explain things better when he gets here. All I can tell you is I won’t hurt you, and I will protect you. With my life, if necessary.”
“Which returns us to my question. Why the hell aren’t you dead or at least seriously incapacitated? From the holes in your shirt, it looks like you were shot. Twice.”
He shrugged, playing it off. “I’m … different.”
“Different?” She looked at him like he was full of shit.
Kagan considered the Kevlar vest ploy and abandoned it. Wouldn’t work now, not after he’d pressed so close to her. Now, he had nothing. Too tired to think up an elaborate lie, he went with a half-truth instead. “I don’t injure as easily as other people and when I’m hurt, I heal faster.”
Mira eyed the holes in his shirt. “Yeah. A whole lot faster.”
She slumped in her chair and rubbed her eyes. It was well past ten. Time to wrap up this disaster of an evening so they could both move on.
“Look, Mira, your apartment’s not safe tonight. I can’t be sure he’s working alone. So your choice tonight is me or some unknown psycho killer.” Kagan grinned, lobbing his empty beer bottle toward the trashcan across the room to sink a perfect three-pointer. He waggled his eyebrows and her lips quirked. “Personally, I think I’m much better looking, and I generally don’t smell like sulfur or rancid meat.”
Mira rolled her eyes and gave him a thumbs-up. “Good to know.”
Kagan laughed. Mira shook her head and fiddled with her blood-stained shirt. He walked to the bedroom, pulled out a clean white tee, and tossed it to her. She caught the bundle one-handed. “Bathroom’s over there.”
• • •
Mira leaned against the bathroom door and squeezed her eyes shut. Her day had started out so normal. Well, normal for her anyway. Now two people had been murdered and she was a witness, or had been until Conan out there whisked her from the scene. She reached into her back pocket and pulled out her cell phone. Zoe’s text message flashed onto the screen. Where are you?
Thumbs flying over the virtual keyboard, Mira typed in her response. I’m okay. Stay in your apartment until I contact you tomorrow. She undressed and flipped on the shower while she waited for the response to come through. Not two minutes later, the phone rumbled on the counter and she read her friend’s response. Don’t worry. Not budging!
After tossing the phone back onto the counter, she stepped inside the steamy shower stall. The hot water washed the carnage from her body, and Mira’s muscles began to relax. What happened after she and Kagan had disappeared? There’d been so much blood. And the smell. Her stomach lurched.
Body limp, Mira rested her forehead against the slick tile and longed to surrender to the riptide of fatigue threatening to drowned her spirit. She was beyond exhausted, yet her mind continued to vomit images of the bodies at the club. McClaine’s bloated body and his face burned into her psyche for eternity, his expression smarmy even in death. Her legs buckled and she sagged to the wet tile floor, sobbing beneath the steam, her emotions raw.
Mira sat for a long while, wallowing in her loneliness until the water began to cool. Pulling herself together at last, she rose and rinsed her hair a final time before fumbling out the door for a towel. Once dry, she confronted her reflection in the fogged mirror. The tired, drawn features, the dark circles, the too-pale skin. Yeah, definitely no beauty pageant winner tonight.
She pivoted, squinted in the mirror at the birthmark over her right shoulder blade. The normally brown-colored mark now blazed red against her paleness, its shape more pronounced. The outline of a misshapen crown and archer’s bow resembling a sloppy tattoo. Mira scowled and tossed her used towel into the laundry basket. The mark had never bothered her before. Great. The cherry on top of a shit day parfait.
Slipping the clean shirt over her head, she puffed a sigh of relief when the garment fell well beyond her knees. Mira pulled her hot pink socks back on then rinsed her bloodstained clothes and hung them to dry on the empty towel rod. She ran her fingers through her wet curls, working the knots free.
As she gathered herself, Mira struggled to explain her odd reactions to the man outside the door. Her ever-wary survivor instincts took a hiatus around him. There was no rational reason, but somehow her wounded soul trusted him. The same instinct had made her less aggressive in her struggles at the club and again here at his apartment. Like she’d completely lost control of her own defenses. And that scared the living bejesus out of her. Christ! This needs to stop, the sooner the better. She shook her head to dispel the crazy thoughts. He didn’t control her. No one did.
The doorbell rang, followed by a muffled exchange of pleasantries. The sound of plates rattling in the nearby kitchen was soon accompanied by tantalizing aromas of baked cheese and roasted veggies wafting through the air. Her stomach issued a loud growl, overriding her warring emotions. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten. Mouth watering, Mira gave herself one more check in the mirror before heading in search of dinner.
• • •
Pizza box in hand, Kagan turned to find Mira exiting the bathroom. He swallowed hard. Her damp hair curled around her face, and his shirt bagged on her small frame. Mira chewed on her bottom lip and his breath snagged, his traitorous tongue more than eager to salve the tiny wound. Her quiet voice held a small quiver of apprehension, despite their earlier truce. “Thought I smelled food.”
&n
bsp; Kagan shook his head, cursing his raging libido. Cristo, get yourself under control! With as much charm as he could muster, Kagan bent forward in a mock bow and rose with a grin. “Dinner is served, madam.”
He headed to the fridge for more drinks, pausing to chuckle when Mira’s stomach growled. He glanced at her over his shoulder. She shrugged, staring at the pizza. “Guess I’m hungrier than I thought.”
“I ordered it with everything since I wasn’t sure what you liked. Hopefully … ” He turned back to the table, beverages in hand. She’d already flung the box open and snatched a slice. As she devoured the food, her moans of ecstasy drifted over him, and he couldn’t help envying that piece of pizza.
Mira took another bite. A second groan escaped her, forcing Kagan to battle his ever-growing arousal. His cock pulsed against the tight confines of his jeans, and he gave a silent prayer of thanks his shirt still hung loose. Otherwise, the situation would be downright embarrassing. The poor girl was tired and hungry, and here he was lusting after her like a rutting animal. Nice move, cazzo.
Kagan set down a fresh water bottle beside her then twisted the cap off his beer. He took a long gulp before daring to glance at Mira again. Big mistake. She licked the grease off her fingers and smiled up at him, unaware of his burgeoning shaft threatening to rip out his button fly.
Basta! He slammed his bottle down and stalked to the sofa. Picking up the remote, he clicked through channels without seeing them. Xander’s voice — the voice of reason — rang through his mind. Rule number one: Don’t fuck the target!
“Don’t you want any food? You must be hungry too,” Mira called from the table.
Kagan clicked faster. Si, he was hungry. He slumped into the soft leather and issued a silent prayer for strength before answering, “No, thanks.”
Mira shrugged and grabbed another piece. The late news came on. Grazie Divinita!
Their lead story was the shooting at the club, and the reporter on scene stated one man had been shot to death. The police suspected gang involvement. Kagan relaxed, the pressure in his pants calming while he focused on the TV instead of the temptation at his kitchen table.
Seal of Destiny (Seven Seals Series Book 1) Page 4
