Deathtrap

by Dannika Dark

  I stood up, and that was when I saw those wooden splinters all over the place, some of them sticking out of the men’s heads, arms, and backs.

  Next to me, Christian was lying facedown. I nudged him with my foot. “It’s over. Get up.”

  My eyes traveled down his body until they stopped at a cluster of sticks in his ass. I laughed and knelt down, giving his backside a nice little pat with my hand. “I always knew I was a pain in your ass.” One at a time, I plucked them free.

  Christian rolled over to all fours and stood up. While stroking his beard, he studied the fallen men. “Okay. I was wrong, you were right. Let’s not speak of this again.”

  “Maybe we should go back and buy something else. I could use a pet rock.”

  “I’m sorry to inform you that we’re running for our lives and don’t have time to do any Christmas shopping.”

  “I can make time,” I quipped, holding a wooden stick between my fingers. “Is this really all it takes?”

  “Some wood works better than others. The smaller ones are useless unless there are a lot of them or they go deep. Good luck if they can get someone to retrieve those sticks from inside their body.”

  There was a gruesome thought.

  A man strode toward us from up ahead, followed by another. He looked down at the fallen Vampires and then swung his gaze up, fists clenched.

  When he bared his fangs, I damn near tripped over my own feet as I spun around and took off.

  Christian jogged past me. “You ever watch those animal kingdom shows about the lions chasing prey?”

  I kept running, my heart pounding against my chest like a drum.

  “We’re the gazelle,” he said, huffing as we weaved around people in a crowded tunnel. “Sometimes predators don’t need a reason. They just want to chase.”

  “So this is for fun?” I glanced over my shoulder at the two men not far behind. “Why don’t we just kick some ass?”

  “Rule number one: Always know when you’re outnumbered.”

  I glanced over my shoulder again. “But there are only two.”

  “Not down here, lass. They multiply like chicken pox.”

  When we reached the rickety bridge, I grabbed the ropes and scuttled across the planks.

  “Faster,” he shouted from behind.

  I hopped over a hole. Faster, my ass.

  Halfway across, I slowed down at the sight of three men guarding the other side. Maybe they were waiting to cross, but their black eyes and hair made me turn around. The two men behind us were blocking the other end of the bridge, and one of them made a slicing motion with his hand across his neck. He looked to his buddy on the other side and gave him a curt nod.

  “Hurry up!” Christian snarled.

  I gave him a grievous stare. “I don’t think we’re going anywhere.”

  He looked both ways, and the gravity of our situation sank in. In a quiet voice, he asked, “Do you trust me?”

  I frowned when he took my hand. Christian gestured toward the water below, and I vehemently shook my head. “I can’t.”

  “We have no choice.”

  “I’m not a good swimmer.”

  A smile touched his lips. “It’s not as if you’ll drown.”

  I tried to pull my hand away, but his grip shackled me to him. “I played in the kiddie pool as a child, Christian. I can’t swim for real.”

  He peered at the river below. “I was never a fan of heights, but sometimes you have to tell your fears to piss off. Hold my hand, Raven. I won’t let you go.”

  “Do you promise?”

  He lifted my chin with the crook of his finger. “My word is my bond.”

  The bridge rocked when the Vampires descended upon us from both sides.

  “Turn around,” he instructed. “Put your back to the rope.”

  I gripped his hand tightly when I realized we were about to flip ourselves backward over a suspension bridge. “I can’t—”

  Before I finished the sentence, he leaned back and took me with him. The world turned upside down as we plummeted toward the river below.

  With my heart in my throat, I tightened my grip on his hand, the rush of wind blowing my hair in front of my face.

  Our feet hit the water with an explosion of sound, quickly followed by the muted roar of the river. In seconds, my entire body was encapsulated in ice water. The world of air and sky vanished, and the depths were infinite, black, and cold.

  Still holding Christian’s hand, I opened my eyes. His hair floated angelically around his head, and his features were softer. A few bubbles came out of his nose as he guided my hand to his belt. When I latched on, he turned around and swam.

  We remained underwater, and I tried kicking my feet to propel us even faster. I didn’t know if those men were following, and I also didn’t know what kind of Breed lived on the banks of an underground river.

  The light dimmed as we distanced ourselves from the bridge. When my lungs began to hurt, I released small breaths to relieve the pressure, but it only worsened. Finally, the need to breathe gripped me like nothing else. I let go of him and panicked.

  Christian appeared and cradled my head in his hands. Seconds away from gulping in air, I signaled him with my eyes that I couldn’t go on.

  He suddenly put his mouth on mine, and my lungs filled with sweet oxygen.

  I stared at him in disbelief as the water held us in suspension. He drew back and nodded as if to ask if I was okay. I nodded back.

  Christian turned, and I gripped his belt as he swam hard, never tiring or slowing down. Determined to overcome my fear, I let go with one arm and mirrored his moves. Maybe an immortal couldn’t die from drowning, but I was certain I’d fall unconscious, and then I’d be nothing but dead weight.

  Christian swam upward, and when I hit the surface, I gasped for air. I accidentally inhaled water and went into a coughing fit. His hand came about my waist, and we treaded water. Maybe I was going into hypothermia, because I wasn’t as cold as when we’d first jumped in.

  I held onto his neck and looked around at the tunnel. It had a cavernous look, minus the high ceilings. “Please tell me this isn’t the sewer.”

  When we reached shore, he pushed me out of the water. I rolled onto my back, heavy with exhaustion. Every breath felt like fire in my lungs, and Cristo’s light slithered its way through my body like a parasite.

  “Are they following us?” I asked between coughs.

  “No,” he said, still in the water. “They probably didn’t want to get their hair wet.”

  “How did you do that trick with your breath?”

  He climbed up next to me, his wet hair dripping down his face. “A Vampire can do a great many things.” He looked over his shoulder. “We’re safe now.”

  I sat up and squeezed out the ends of my wet hair. “Do you think those men we took out were their friends? They looked like they were part of some gothic Vampire club. Only black-haired douchebags need apply.”

  He chuckled softly and stood up. “Perhaps you should have applied.”

  I took his hand, a little unsteady on my feet. “You’re not my friend anymore.”

  “I’ll remember that next time you’re hanging on to my crotch for dear life. Let’s get out of here before they change their minds.”

  I dragged my feet, one of my socks missing and the other flopping around. I reached down and tossed it into the water. “I always thought underground rivers were something in the movies.”

  “Where do you think spring water comes from? Subterranean rivers are a real thing, Raven. The world is bigger than you imagine it to be.”

  I shivered. “So I’m learning.”

  We continued at a sedate pace, Christian impervious to the biting chill. His teeth weren’t chattering like mine were, and he made no effort to squeeze the ends of his drenched T-shirt. The walkway bordered one side of the river, and the light in the distance glittered off the murky water like fireflies in the dark.

  Christian slicked his hair bac
k. “In Xanadu did Kubla Khan, a stately pleasure-dome decree: Where Alph, the sacred river, ran through caverns measureless to man, down to a sunless sea.”

  “That’s pretty. What’s it from?”

  “Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Jaysus, didn’t your schools teach literature?”

  “We read Shakespeare and learned the anatomy of oysters. I guess it wasn’t in the budget. Do you think he was talking about this place?”

  Christian wiped the droplets of water off his beard. “He wrote it while high on opium. Chances are slim to none.”

  I touched my chest, relieved my necklace hadn’t fallen off. “Can we sit down? Just for a minute?”

  He looked in both directions. “Aye. Just for a moment.” Christian led me to a stone slab within a recessed wall.

  “I changed my mind,” I said, collapsing onto the rock.

  “For feck’s sake. We just sat down.”

  “Not about that. About my father.” I shivered hard when the cold air licked over my skin.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I don’t want to end up like Shepherd with unresolved issues. At first, he was the poster boy for closing the door to my past. But I can’t. It’s eating away at me. My father won’t live forever, and it’ll be the biggest regret of my life if I don’t see him one last time.”

  “Even if it means him despising what you’ve become?”

  I squeezed the end of my wet tank top. “Even if it means him not loving me anymore. I never got the chance to say good-bye. I need him to know that I didn’t seek out to hurt him. He deserves to know how great of a father he was and how ungrateful of a daughter I was.”

  Tears welled in my eyes but easily blended in on my wet face.

  Christian put his arm around me. “Did you know penguins huddle for warmth?”

  I laughed against his shoulder. “You spend too much time reading encyclopedias.”

  “Every man needs a hobby.”

  “Is that where you learned your mating technique?”

  “You’re one to talk, praying mantis.”

  “The men I lured into bathrooms weren’t prospective lovers.”

  He reached around and squeezed the ends of my wet hair in front. “Neither are the women I bed. They’re just… recreational. Lover is a serious word. It implies commitment and devotion.”

  “I thought that was marriage.”

  “That’s an archaic tradition for humans. Some Breeds mate or bond, but that requires exclusivity.”

  “Lovers aren’t exclusive?”

  His thumb traced across my clavicle. “Haven’t you ever taken a lover?”

  The air between us crackled.

  I no longer had the fear of him charming me and stared deep into his bottomless eyes. Maybe it was foolish to trust a Vampire, but I couldn’t bring myself to look away. His dark lashes matched his hair, and serious eyebrows framed his black eyes. Despite being a Vampire, he had wolfish characteristics. I tried to imagine how handsome his blue eyes must have been against his roguish features, but I couldn’t. Black eyes were the only color that seemed fitting for Christian, and there wasn’t anything wrong with that. They had a luster and mystery to them all their own.

  “Will you take me to see him?”

  “Aye, Precious. I’ll make good on my promise.”

  My voice fell to a whisper. “Why do you have this effect on me?”

  The pad of his thumb smoothed over my lips, and he looked upon me with fascination. “Your lips are soft.”

  I got up and walked away. “We can’t do this.”

  Christian appeared out of nowhere and pinned me to the wall, dark hunger simmering in his gaze. “You are torturously beautiful. I need to taste you.”

  I flattened my back against the wall as he loomed even closer. “You can’t have my blood.”

  He leaned in, his voice silken. “That’s not what I want to taste.”

  The water lifted a scent off him that I couldn’t get enough of. He gazed at me like a predator until our lips touched…

  And melted me where I stood.

  Christian didn’t kiss me tenderly, but with fire. He cupped my nape and stepped closer until our bodies joined.

  When our tongues met, I quivered with need. Best of all, I could touch him without the fear of my sexual energy knocking him out. No sparks that came from my fingertips compared to the electricity I felt when wrapped in his arms. Christian tasted just as I’d imagined.

  And oh God, how I’d imagined it.

  His lips were soft but insistent, like a man who knew when to take what he wanted and yet savored the hunt. I moaned, clawing at his shirt as if we were still in that river. He gripped the corner of the wall, and the rock crumbled beneath his fingertips, reminding me of his incredible power. Yet he held me like an ordinary man.

  When I nibbled on his bottom lip, Christian grabbed my ass and pulled me against him, his erection demanding and hard against my belly. He was several inches taller than me, even more since I didn’t have my shoes on. I stood on my tiptoes—one leg hooked around his—and as he deepened the kiss, something came over me.

  Déjà vu.

  My fangs elongated, and he stroked one of them with the tip of his tongue.

  I drew back to catch my breath. “It’s your blood, isn’t it? That’s what’s making me feel this way.”

  The sound of rushing water drowned out my racing heart.

  Christian stroked my cheek, his lips still swollen from my kiss. “It’s not the blood.”

  “Then why is this so familiar? Why does it feel like I’ve tasted your kiss before?”

  He drew in a deep breath. “Because you have.”

  I searched his eyes.

  Christian inclined his head, his hands on my shoulders. “I can’t lie to you anymore. You made me promise, but it was an unfair thing to do. I’m going back on a favor because it’s not right.”

  “What’s not right?” I asked warily.

  “We kissed before. Intimately. Passionately.”

  I shook my head slowly. “No, we haven’t.”

  “Aye, we have.” He cupped my head in his hands, and his gaze reeled me in. “Remember everything, Raven. The wall is coming down. Oceans.”

  The moment he said the word “oceans” without breaking eye contact, a flood of memories filled my mind. Restored memories. The training room, throwing myself at Christian… Our kiss. That sensual, erotic kiss where he pinned me to the wall and I wanted him to take me. I’d never known that kind of insatiable desire. The kiss hadn’t been as slow burning and shattering as the one we’d just shared; it was chaotic and consumed with primal need. We’d crashed into each other like two comets in the night. I remembered the argument afterward and asking him to scrub my memory of the kiss. It would have been impossible for me to work beside a man that I’d felt that measure of lust for, but his scrubbing my memory of the kiss never erased my desire for him as I’d hoped. It was always there, simmering beneath the surface. Only now did I realize that it wasn’t our kiss that had made me want him—it was my wanting him that led to the kiss.

  My heart constricted, filled with the sting of deceit. “How can I ever trust you?” I shoved him away. “I feel like such a fool!”

  “No, Raven. I’m the fool for agreeing to such a request.”

  “Then why did you do it?”

  “Because if I hadn’t, you would have walked away from Keystone.”

  I tilted my head to one side. “Isn’t that what you wanted all along? So you did this out of the goodness of your own heart? That’s bullshit. You didn’t like me back then, and I’m still not really sure what this is,” I said, motioning between us. “What else did you erase?”

  He held up his hands. “That’s all. I swear on my immortal soul.”

  I covered my eyes and threw my head back. “We can’t keep doing this. I don’t think I can handle a casual relationship with my partner.”

  “Define casual.”

  I dropped my arms. “Making out. Sharing
blood. Cuddling. Sitting in the bathtub together. Casual.”

  “Afraid it’ll crush your dreams of becoming a do-gooder? A respectable member of society? Would you really leave Keystone over something so trivial?”

  I pressed my finger against his chest. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. You’re stringing my emotions along, and I should know better than to feel anything for a man who treats love like a venereal disease.”

  He gently took my arm and stepped close. “And what exactly do you feel for me?”

  I wrenched away. “That’s not fair.”

  And it wasn’t. Christian couldn’t expect me to disclose my emotions for his own amusement. Vampires used the truth against people. Now my feelings about him were a tangled mess. I wasn’t foolish enough to expect him to reciprocate, but in that moment—when I felt the most betrayed—I realized by the clenching of my heart and tightening in my chest that I really did love him. That silent admission made me curse my stupidity for falling for a guy who would mock me for it.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  Maybe I was caught in a vicious cycle of repeating my parents’ mistake of loving someone who couldn’t give themselves completely. That was all I knew about love.

  He reached out to touch my face. “Raven—”

  “Don’t make me say something we’ll both regret. Look, I appreciate you restoring my memory. I know I’m the one who asked you for the favor, but I can’t help it. I feel violated. I trusted you would never do something like that to me. Why didn’t you talk me out of it?”

  His lips tightened, and he took a step back. “I can’t make it right. It won’t happen again, on my word. Even if you throw your naked body against mine and grind me like a cat in heat, I’ll make you remember every embarrassing detail.”

  I flounced off. That was exactly the kind of thing I expected Christian to say. He was like Jekyll and Hyde, and I wasn’t sure which man was the real Christian Poe.

  Nor was I certain which man I loved.

  Because even as I stormed off alongside the river, it didn’t change a damn thing about what I felt for him.