Lincoln let out a low snarl.
He’d fallen into a full fighting crouch before the thought formed in his mind. Blood rose from his throat to his face. The room grew rose-colored, tinted scarlet and wine.
Before he could move, Brick spoke.
“Well, hey, now. Just a gosh-darned minute.” Slapping a knee with one hand, he laughed. “Why, I nearly forgot my true purpose here entirely!”
Lincoln looked over, startled––more confused by Brick’s light, friendly tone than he was by his words. He was still breathing harder, fire in his veins, muscles straining his shirt, when he met his king’s gaze. Brick stared back at him, a faint warning in those predatory eyes.
His voice remained as light as before.
“Silly me,” he said with a smile. “In the excitement of seeing you all here, I plumb passed over entirely my original errand. Lincoln, dear friend, I have a job for you. And for Dorian.”
Lincoln followed his gaze to the blond vampire.
Dorian stood by the high-backed chair in front of the fireplace now, having vacated his seat. He gripped the bone-handled knife in one hand, fangs extended and pushing out his full lips. His red eyes were focused narrowly on Stevens.
Smiling wider, Brick added, “Dorian could handle this particular task alone, of course. Quite easily, in fact. But I have some specific requests, in terms of packaging and delivery, such that I would prefer the two of you to do it together.” He swiveled his gaze back to Lincoln, eyes shrewd. “Think of it as being for my peace of mind, friend Lincoln.”
Dorian didn’t move. His eyes had shifted to Brick.
Forcing his blood-lust down, Lincoln took a breath. He bowed his head. “Of course, Patrón. We live to serve. I would be happy to do this thing for you.”
“Good, good,” Brick said, smiling faintly.
Brick turned once more to leave, then stopped. He swiveled his gaze, aiming a harder look at Lincoln’s face. “Well?” he said. “Did I not imply this task was urgent to me?”
Lincoln blinked.
Without waiting, he began to walk to Brick, watching the vampire king’s face smooth as he waited for them by the door. Lincoln heard Dorian’s softer tread fall into step behind his.
Angry murmurs once more grew audible from the oak slab table.
Lincoln barely noticed. Rather, he focused on Brick, and on the blood that still pounded in his own veins, heating his pale skin.
He knew Brick was right. They could not kill the Council yet, despite their insolence, stupidity and utter lack of gratitude.
They still needed them.
Even so, he was more than aware that Brick had just saved the Council’s lives.
He wondered if the fools even knew what their king had just done for them.
10
PROJECTION
I HADN’T SEEN him all day.
Well, he dragged me out of bed at five a.m. to go the gym with him, but he’d disappeared by the time I got out of the shower after we returned to the suite.
I wasn’t surprised; I knew he had meetings all day. I also didn’t feel particularly left out, not this time, at least. It was me who asked Black if I could bow out of the usual Wall Street stuff for the day. I wanted to work on sight skills with some of the other seers.
Black paused when I’d asked him, staring at me, in the middle of a pull-up. Lowering his body back to the gymnasium’s rubber-matted floor, he just stood there for a few seconds, staring through the windows at something I couldn’t see.
“Sure, doc. Whatever you want.” Glancing over his shoulder at me, he frowned. “Just not Ravi, okay?” A harder emotion plumed off his light. “He has a crush on you.”
“What?” I let out a surprised laugh. “No, he doesn’t.”
His mouth firmed. “He does. Trust me.” Still studying my eyes, he added, “Please, Miri... as a favor. I’m liable to kick the crap out of him if I feel your light on him like that. It might sound ridiculous to you, but I’m not kidding.”
I stared at him, unsure how to even react.
It did sound ridiculous, but I wasn’t feeling particularly amused.
In the end, I asked Arden over breakfast whether he would mind working with me. He was enthusiastic enough that I asked Dex to take him off the schedule for the day.
By mid-afternoon, however, Arden and I had to stop. That’s when Jonas and his team showed up to help me get ready for the big party. That’s more or less all I did until six o’clock, when I got a call in the suite telling me Black was waiting for me in the car.
On the way to Ben Frasier’s place, we didn’t really talk. He asked me about my day and I did the same, but neither of us shared a lot in the several blocks’ drive. Black didn’t comment on my appearance, either. Rather, he stared at my dress, gave me the quickest once-over imaginable, blinked, then scowled, looking away.
I wasn’t sure how to take that, either.
Minutes later, we pushed through the glass doors of the Emperor Hotel & Suites, greeted by a rush of cool air that smelled faintly perfumed.
Heads turned from the lobby on all sides.
No one approached us, thank goodness. The people inside had already been vetted and were likely guests of the hotel or residents there. In either case, they did their best to appear politely indifferent.
I still caught a lot of furtive stares, however.
I forced my pace to remain steady, relaxed, despite my impulse to clutch at Black as we crossed the patterned carpet under the six-tiered chandelier. Both of us still felt overly-visible, a fact I knew my clothes weren’t helping, or the five-inch heels currently strapped to my feet.
My pulse still pounded from our chaotic greeting outside.
We’d barely walked fifteen feet from the curb to the doors, but Black and I were hit by more flashing cameras and shouted questions than I’d seen up until that point, likely due to Grant Steele’s show premiering the night before. I’d never seen that much press up close in my life, not even during big murder cases I’d worked with Nick back in San Francisco.
One of Black’s “fans” also flashed her bare breasts at him from behind the velvet ropes, apparently with her phone number written across them in red lipstick.
Luckily, all of that occurred from a relative distance.
The velvet ropes held press and onlookers at bay, well outside the width of the doors and the red carpet, and a good eight or nine feet from where we walked. More to the point, lining those ropes on either side stood a force of formidable-looking men and a few women with the word “SECURITY” written in white letters across their shoulders.
I recognized Black’s people out there, too, standing with the hotel’s security team.
Even so, the whole thing made me damned nervous.
“So this is our life now?” I muttered, as Cowboy and Ace followed us to the private elevator that serviced the penthouse. “Worrying about being shot the second we leave bulletproof vehicles? Dodging paparazzi whenever we show our faces?”
Black glanced at me, quirking an eyebrow as he straightened from pressing the button to summon the elevator. Looking into the mirrored panel next to the elevator doors, he adjusted his tie with his fingers, a faint frown touching his lips.
I couldn’t help looking at him as he did it.
His body was still relatively lean from the time he’d spent at that prison and the lab, at least compared to how he’d looked when I first met him. He’d gained some of the weight back, though, especially in his upper body. I’d watched him working on that nearly every morning since he got back, since he usually dragged me with him to the gym.
He’d also been prodding me to spend more time with him in the ring.
It annoyed me at first, mostly because I’m one of those people who would rather wake up with a good hour of staring and coffee and then maybe breakfast before I start getting ambitious ideas like working out. Still, given everything, I found myself thinking maybe I needed to approach his offers in the ring a bit differently,
too.
I found myself staring at the bandage on his wrist as he pulled at his jacket, straightening the lines of his sleeves and shoulders.
“I thought you were going to start me on sword-fighting.” I blurted the words before I realized I hadn’t clued him in on the rest of my thoughts. “Now that you’re positively scary with those things, shouldn’t I be learning the basics? You were going to show me more sight stuff, too. In the ring, I mean. With sparring.”
I looked up at his face, realizing only then that I’d been staring at his body all that time. He met my gaze, and his looked significantly more heated. I started, surprised, then blinked as I continued to study his expression. His pupils were dilated.
After looking at me for a few seconds more, he grunted.
“That’s what you were thinking about?” he muttered. “Staring at me like that?”
I flushed, looking down at him again. “You said I needed to work harder,” I reminded him, glancing at Cowboy before returning my gaze to him. “You know. With the training. I figured you’d want me to be thinking about this stuff.”
You know staring is kind of a thing with seers, right? he sent to my mind. Or haven’t you figured that out yet?
What kind of ‘thing’? I sent, lifting my eyebrow in return.
A come-on kind of thing, he answered at once. An ‘I want to fuck you’ kind of thing.
I frowned, looking him over again as I tried to decide if he was messing with me. That time, a pulse of heat came off him, intense enough that I looked up.
“Cut it out, Miri,” he said aloud.
I laughed, more in surprise than anything. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t pleased, though. He hadn’t exactly been flirtatious lately, and a part of me responded before I’d let myself question whether or not he was serious. When I continued to smile at him, he caught hold of my wrist, pulling me closer to him.
I don’t know what you’re grinning about, he murmured in my mind. His thoughts remained teasing, but there was a faint edge there now. You’re the one who’s making promises with your light, without seeming to know there’s a conversation happening. Considering what you’re wearing right now, doc, you might want to ease up a little.
I looked up at him, studying his gold eyes, even as I realized how little of his light I could feel, even now. Was he really flirting with me? Or was he telling me to stop flirting with him? Was he telling me to stop looking at him?
Studying his face, I felt my frustration worsen when I realized I had no idea.
The elevator doors pinged, opening in front of us. I followed Black inside, watching as he leaned against the brass bar at the back of the car. Cowboy and Ace trailed in after us, then faced the doors. I saw Cowboy wave off a few other guests, indicating he wanted them to wait for the next elevator. Then he hit the button for the penthouse floor.
Glancing towards Black, I studied his face. I frowned, watching him avoid my eyes.
“You’re the one who’s messing with me,” I said aloud. “Not the reverse.”
Black tensed. He glanced at Cowboy and Ace, his jaw hardening before his eyes flicked back to mine. “Excuse me?” Are you really bringing this up, Miriam? Now? On a fucking elevator in front of my employees?
Following his eyes to the other men, I moved closer to him.
After another pause, I switched to his mind.
Maybe I should schedule a time for us to talk? I sent. Time where you might actually illuminate me on what the hell’s going on with you... and with us, for that matter?
Feeling his anger rise, I cut him off before he could answer.
I know you need space. I get that you need time. But you’ve also been hassling me about blocking you, teasing you, messing with your head... and that’s nothing but pure projection. I’ve indulged you in that, because I’ve been indulging you in everything lately. I was trying to leave you alone about it. I’ve been doing everything in my power to not bother you about how much you’re avoiding, or the fact that you don’t want sex. I’ve been trying my damnedest not to take those things personally, either.
I hesitated, seeing a harder spark of anger flare in his eyes.
Clenching my jaw, I plowed on.
But now you’re projecting again, and I’m not in the mood to indulge it. So be clear. Do you want me to stop looking at you? Or do you want me to look at you differently, somehow? What exactly are you saying to me right now, Black?
When he clicked at me angrily, I held up my hand.
I’m happy to give you space, especially given everything you’ve been through. But I’m not going to let you push this stuff off on me anymore. Own your own shit, all right? Own it, and if you don’t want me getting too close to you, tell me. Tell me you don’t want me trying to touch you... or staring at you. Stop confusing me by making it all my fault.
When his anger flashed hotter, I grabbed hold of his arm in the tuxedo jacket.
I can feel it on you, Black... I can feel it right now. It makes you flinch whenever I get near you at all. Again, you’re absolutely entitled to do whatever you want, especially with your body and your light, but stop pretending you’re not. Just be fucking honest with me for a change.
He avoided my eyes, clicking softly and shaking his head.
I felt his frustration worsen briefly, turning back into anger.
Weirdly, it didn’t feel aimed at me, though.
You know you’re doing it, right? I sent, gripping his arm tighter. Studying his gold, tiger-like eyes, I pushed lightly on his chest with my other hand. You do know. You’re not so un-self-aware that you don’t know this is coming from you, not me. You know, but you haven’t said anything. I assumed you weren’t ready to talk about it, but now I’m wondering if I should be pushing you to see a shrink, like Brick said.
When his eyes hardened to stone, turning on me, I shook his arm.
Should I be worried, Black? How long do you intend to keep shutting me out like this? Am I going to have to force the issue? Or should I leave New York? Because I can do that, too.
At that, his expression abruptly blanked.
His mind fell utterly silent.
After a long-feeling pause, he glanced at Cowboy and at Ace. Then he shook his head.
We can’t talk about this here, Miri, he sent.
Why?
Because we fucking can’t.
I frowned again. “Why?” I said aloud.
Black smiled, but I saw anger behind the smile. Tugging me closer by the arm, he slid his hand from my elbow down to my wrist. Using my body to block what he was doing, he surprised me then, placing my fingers and palm on his groin.
I jumped. I couldn’t help it.
He was hard. Hard enough that I blushed from my neck up to my cheeks.
What the fuck, Black––
I want you, Miri, he sent, his thoughts hard. I want you all the goddamned time. Do you get it? Are you hearing me on this? We can’t fucking talk about this here, Miri. We can’t.
Even knowing he’d positioned us so Cowboy and Ace shouldn’t have seen it, I pulled my hand away, glancing at the two humans anyway. Neither of them had turned to look at us, but I distinctly got the impression they were more aware of our conversation than they were pretending.
Are you going to tell me why you’re blocking me? I sent. Or are you going to keep projecting that on me? Pretending I’m imagining things?
He let out another grunt, releasing my wrist. He switched to speaking aloud, his deep voice jarring in the confined space. “You already know why, doc.” His eyes met mine. Cold. Uncompromising. “Can we talk about this later? Please?”
Before I could answer, the elevator doors pinged behind me.
I was still staring up at him when Cowboy and Ace exited out of the car, pretty much the instant the doors opened. I was tempted to grab Black’s arm a second time, to hold him back, but he didn’t so much as look at me as he followed Cowboy and Ace.
An irrational fear tightened my chest, maybe from his eyes avo
iding mine, maybe from the anger I’d felt off him at some of the things I’d said... maybe from something else I could feel on him. Or maybe it was just all of the stuff I’d been suppressing over the past however-many weeks while I told myself I was respecting his boundaries.
Whatever caused the reaction in me, he must have picked up on it.
About ten paces after we left the elevator, he stopped, turning to face me and blocking my path. Cowboy and Ace stopped, too.
Cowboy stopped first, looking up at Black. A faint concern lived in his stare, along with something I couldn’t read as he pursed his lips. Ace looked between us as well, but his expression was more openly puzzled.
“There a problem, brother?” Cowboy said.
His voice held an open warning.
Without turning around, Black motioned his head towards the bar.
“Go ahead,” he told them. “We’ll catch up.”
Ace turned without a word. He aimed his feet towards the pool, probably to scout the space, which was already more than half-full of milling guests. A faint bleed of sunlight still colored some of the clouds, but the city lights overpowered the last of the sun’s light already, and I could see part of the lit Empire State Building in the distance to Black’s left.
Cowboy hesitated a beat longer, glancing at me.
Then, as if seeing something in my expression, he turned as well, trailing after Ace. I watched him adjust his jacket as he walked, and noted the bulge from the gun he wore.
I must have looked too long. I felt a pulse of annoyance from a lot closer by.
“He has a crush on you, too,” he muttered.
“Black.” I looked up at him, frowning. “You were right. Now’s not the time to talk about this. I’m sorry I said anything. And for staring.”
He only shook his head though, that annoyance reaching his voice.
“I’m not avoiding you, Miriam,” he growled. “I’m not.” He paused, studying my eyes. “Are you trying to make me fucking paranoid, staring at Cowboy like that, after pulling that crap? Or do you really not know I thought you were coming on to me back there? You must know how badly I want sex. We haven’t fucked in weeks...”
Black Of Mood (Quentin Black: Shadow Wars #2): Quentin Black World Page 14
