When I glanced at Angel next, her lips were pursed. She and Nick exchanged glances once more, right before Angel looked back at me.
“Are you okay, doc?” she said softly, laying a hand on my arm. “You’re not really acting like yourself, either.”
I sighed, trying to decide how to answer that.
Before I could, a commotion on the other side of the pool jerked my eyes up and away from hers. I hadn’t even seen anything yet when I already knew.
It was Black.
Whatever was happening, Black was in the middle of it.
And he definitely wasn’t happy.
MY BRAIN LAGGED pretty far behind my reflexes.
I was operating on zero information really, when I first regained my feet. By then I was already in motion, heading in his direction. I was halfway around the pool before my mind caught up enough to even take in the scene in front of me.
Black stood there, his back unusually straight and pressed to the bar.
He was breathing harder than normal, his gold eyes fixed on a pretty woman, maybe in her early twenties, with long blond hair that hung down her back in soft curls. She had an unbelievable figure, just like the red-haired sound tech who’d been hanging all over him a few days before. Also like the woman at Steele’s television studio, this woman’s figure looked like it might have been enhanced in a few places, by breast implants at the very least. She was showing off her impressive dimensions in a low-cut, shimmery gold dress that was sheer from her crotch down to her ankles.
Black wasn’t looking at her with desire, though.
He glared at her with cold, hard fury in his eyes.
He looked terrifying really, like he might have killed her if he took his hands off the wooden bar. Hurt her, at the very least.
Forgetting the woman once I saw his face, I found I couldn’t look away.
“Black.” He didn’t look at me. Black! What is it? What happened?
I didn’t realize Angel and Nick had followed me until Angel touched my arm, worry bleeding through her fingers.
“Doc, slow down...” she said. “Slow down.”
By then, I’d nearly reached them.
To my right, I heard Nick mutter, “Christ. What the fuck is this?” Worry came off him, as tangible as Angel’s. “Angel,” he murmured, softer. “This doesn’t look good. We should get Miri out of here––”
“Yeah, good luck with that,” Angel muttered, as low as him.
They spoke quieter than I should have been able to hear, but somehow, I did hear them.
I could hear everything right then.
At the same time, my mind logged their words as little more than additional information.
I was only a few feet away when the woman let out a disbelieving laugh, throwing back her head and tossing her long, curled blond hair.
“Damn, boy. You’re jumpy as hell. What are you, some kind of vag-hater?” Her full lower lip pouted. “You shoved me. It’s not nice to push girls!”
“Fuck you,” Black snarled. “You’re goddamned lucky that’s all I did...”
There was so much anger in his voice, I came to a stop.
The woman herself appeared unfazed. Rolling her eyes, she lost the coy voice and returned to the harder Brooklyn accent. “Well, excuse the hell out of me! Given everything I’ve heard about you, I didn’t think you’d mind. Or that you’d be such a whiny little bitch about being touched by a real-live girl...”
My jaw hardened to stone.
I stood almost between them now, looking from his face to hers. She had bright blue eyes under fake, babydoll eyelashes, and a lipstick-covered pink mouth that might have been enhanced by plastic surgery, too. She wore so much make-up she looked more like a doll than a living, breathing woman.
She didn’t do much more than give me a dismissive glance.
Propping her high-heeled shoe on the pillar behind her, she let out another harsh laugh. “Jesus Christ. What a fucking joke you are––”
“What happened?” I cut in.
My voice came out surprisingly calm.
I wasn’t sure which of them I was even talking to.
The woman apparently thought it was her. She folded her thin arms, adjusting her butt and balance against the pillar. Letting out another exasperated sound, she motioned one hand towards Black, bracelets jingling on her arm.
“He’s fucking crazy, that’s what happened,” she said. “That, or I’m thinking maybe he likes cock more than icky girl-parts...” She made a fake pouty face at Black, her doll-like eyes wide and mocking. “...Are women scary for you, precious? You get a bad mommy flashback? Worried about teeth in my vagina?”
I looked at Black.
His eyes were gold metal. I don’t think I’d ever seen him look like that before.
After a pause, his gaze shifted away, focusing somewhere past the pool. Whatever he was looking at, his mind felt like a blank wall, like he was barely there. I felt that anger on him smolder, and realized that at least part of it had been fear.
She really had scared him somehow.
Startled him, anyway.
That surprised me so much I looked around at the rest of the people there. I scanned the faces of the men standing there, looking for clues to what just happened. They watched Black and the woman with a mixture of alarm, curiosity, and uncomfortable humor on their faces. The humor struck me more as nerves, and I could tell most of them didn’t really know what had just happened. Clearly a few had some idea, including Ben Frasier.
Then I noticed Black’s neck. Pink lipstick was visible on one side of his collar. I also saw red marks on his skin on the same side.
I didn’t spend long looking at them before I turned back to the woman.
That time, I didn’t hesitate.
I read her mind.
“Miri,” Black growled. “Don’t. It doesn’t matter.”
But I’d already seen everything I needed to see.
I don’t remember moving.
I don’t remember thinking a single thought.
When I next refocused my eyes, shouting was going on behind me. A strange ringing filled my ears. I had the woman by the throat, her head pressed hard up against the mirrored pillar. Her skin felt cold. She let out a strangled moan against my fingers, but I barely heard it.
Fury coursed through me, like a living force.
“You think that’s funny?” My voice came out low, an open threat. I barely recognized it. “You think that’s a fucking laugh-riot, do you? Are we laughing now?”
“Miri!” Black’s voice came from directly behind me.
Worried now, the anger stripped from it entirely.
His arms wrapped around me when I didn’t turn my head. He started to pull me away from her, but I resisted, gripping her throat tighter.
The image flashed through my mind again. Sharp white teeth. Parted pink lips as she bit Black’s neck. Her hand gripping his cock, massaging him through the tuxedo pants from behind.
Clenching my hand, I slammed her head against the mirror again, harder, to gasps all around. I heard the glass crack, the force of impact. I realized in some dim corner of my mind that I’d already broken the mirror, that spider-web cracks formed a circular pattern from where I’d hit the back of her head into the panel the first time.
“You touch my husband again, I will kill you. Do you understand me? I will fucking kill you. I’ll cut out your goddamned heart...”
“Miri!” Pain plumed off Black. His arms wound around me tighter still. His mouth was by my ear then, soft, cajoling, his lips brushing my skin. His light grew warm, dense, reassuring. “Honey, let go of her,” he murmured. “It’s all right, ilya... let go. Let go of her...”
Tears came to my eyes.
Silent, they ran down my face before I could control my emotions, or my mind. I realized my light was all around me now, flaring and coiling off me in sparks and ribbons like it was a separate being, like it wasn’t connected to me at all.
I still
wanted to hurt the woman in front of me.
“I know.” Black’s voice. Soft as velvet, cajoling. “I know, ilya. But she didn’t hurt me. I’m okay, honey. I promise I’m okay. Let go...”
Black reached up from behind me, wrapping his hand over mine where I still held the woman’s throat. He loosened my fingers gently, kissing my face.
“Let go of her, ilya. Come on. Let go. Let go...”
When he sent more heat into me, I opened my hand.
Stepping back when he tugged on me that time, I let him enfold me in his arms, pull me against his chest. Then I just stared at her, at her wide, shocked blue eyes, at the trickle of blood running down one side of her temple from under her hairline. It hit me, what I’d done, what I’d been about to do. What I’d said.
Once it had, pain heated the center of my chest, making it hard to breathe.
I was still angry, but I forced myself to swallow it.
“I’m sorry,” I said to her, my voice stiff. “I’m...” I fought to think, to make sense of what I’d just done. “...I’m sorry.”
Something on my face seemed to snap her out of her trance.
She stepped off the mirrored panel, and her eyes narrowed to slits.
“Fucking psychotic bitch!” she screeched. She looked at Black. “You’re out of your fucking minds! Both of you! Do you have any idea how badly I’m going to sue you? If this crazy bitch really is your wife, I’m going to own your ass, Black! You’ll be writing checks to me for the rest of your natural-born life...”
I don’t think so, another mind intervened, soft.
I looked over when I heard it, searching for the source.
Ravi stood there.
His eyes were on me, not Black or the woman. I saw sympathy in his expression. Not just sympathy. For the first time, I saw what Black had been muttering about earlier that day. Ravi looked at me with unabashed desire, his peacock green and blue eyes shining in the fairy lights by the pool. I saw a strange sort of pride in the curve of his lips, or admiration maybe, like he approved of what I’d done.
I couldn’t make sense of either thing, not then.
I was still shaking, adrenaline coursing through every vein in my body.
I hadn’t taken my eyes off Ravi when fury came off the person standing behind me, woven in with a coldness that cut my breath. The violence behind it was so intense I winced, even as Black wrapped his arm around me tighter, yanking me harder against his chest.
I’ll take care of this, sir, Ravi told him, his thoughts openly deferential.
Do it now, Black growled back. And keep your goddamned eyes to yourself.
I’m sorry, sir.
You damned well better be.
When my physical eyes focused back on Ravi, he held the blond woman’s arm in one hand. He didn’t hold her tightly, but more in reassurance. I watched him lean his head towards hers, his expression calm. When I glanced behind him, I saw Efraim standing there as well, like Ravi’s shadow. His eyes were focused on mine, too, but I saw nothing in his gaze. His brown eyes were flat, like he looked through me more than at me.
“Please come with me, miss.” Ravi’s voice was soothing, gentle, like the stroke of a hand. “We’ll get you looked at, okay? Your head is bleeding.”
She started at his words, but didn’t pull away. She looked him over instead, as if startled. Some of that might have been the push Ravi was likely using to calm her mind. Some of it might have been that Ravi, like all seers, was handsome to the point of being stunning. Feeling Black’s hands tighten on me a second time, I shifted my gaze to the woman. She touched her forehead with her fingers, staring at her own blood like she’d never seen it before.
Then, her whole expression contorted with fury.
She looked around at the rest of them, pointing with bloody fingers.
“I hope one of you motherfuckers got this on video!” she screamed. “I want the CCTV footage in here, Ben! All of it! You’re all witnesses to what that crazy bitch did to me! I’ll bring every last one of you to court if I have to!”
“Anastasia,” someone sighed. “Just go get cleaned up, will you? We’ll discuss this in a moment.”
I turned my head to put a face to the voice.
That same lean, handsome, gray-haired man I’d seen Black talking to earlier stood a few feet to my left. He held a drink in one hand, his square face and jaw prominent behind a well-groomed beard that was the same iron gray as the hair on his head. His eyes were blue, but darker than the woman’s, and his held a much calmer light. I was still staring at him when he turned, looking directly at me.
“Are you all right?” he said politely.
I noted the English accent that time. His question made me want to laugh, though.
“Am I all right?” I repeated, incredulous.
“Yes.” A smile quirked his lips. “Should we obtain medical attention for you too, miss?” His gaze flickered up and behind me, presumably to Black. A mischievous glint touched his eyes. “...Or should I say ‘missus’?”
I hadn’t even opened my mouth when Black answered.
“Doctor, actually,” he growled. “She’s my fucking wife.”
He said it so loud, I jumped.
I didn’t pull away from him, though.
Ben Frasier smiled, his eyes still twinkling. He didn’t look overly surprised, but he did look back at me, appraising me more candidly.
“Congratulations, Black,” he said. “She is... beyond lovely.”
More pain coursed through Black’s hands.
I had to fight not to wince, or maybe writhe against him.
“Truly, Black,” Ben said, smiling faintly. “An uncommon beauty.”
That only seemed to infuriate Black more.
“Do you have a place I could talk to my wife alone?” he said, still hitting the word a touch harder than necessary. “I apologize for the scene, Ben, I really do. But I need to talk to her. Now. If you’d rather we didn’t do that here, we can go. I’ll have my people call your office and you and I can catch up tomorrow. Or next week––”
“No, of course not––” Frasier began, but another voice cut him off.
“GO?” The higher voice grew louder and nearer before anyone could react. “Did you say GO? Never! I won’t hear of it! You are NOT leaving! I forbid it!”
I watched, bewildered, as a man with a boyish face and messy dyed-black hair walked up from behind Frasier, throwing a gym-toned arm over his tuxedoed shoulders. He squeezed the older man against his side, beaming at both of us. He had a streak of metallic silver in his hair in front, making him look like a character from an old horror movie.
“You aren’t GOING anywhere!” he proclaimed. “Ben and I WILL NOT allow it! Will we, Ben, dearest?” He grinned at Ben, then back at us. “These parties are usually so terribly, horribly dull... you simply cannot go now. Not until after dinner, at least. I have a few hundred questions for your smoking hot and clearly dangerous wife, Quenty-baby.” He aimed that mischievous grin at me. “I guess we know now why you haven’t been doing your usual, and holding meetings at strip clubs. Or bringing call girls to our dinner outings...”
I felt more fury leave Black’s light.
He clearly knew the man, though.
Fighting back my own irritation, I returned the younger man’s gaze.
I still couldn’t connect to anything I saw or felt there. My mind lagged behind everything that had just happened, and I only managed to note the basics of his looks. Handsome in a boyish way that never really appealed to me. Verging on smarmy, honestly, with a permanent-looking smirk etched on his face. His dyed hair looked like someone spent a few hours and a lot of product making it look casually messy. He wore a bright red tuxedo jacket, matching red pants and a black tie. Whoever he was, he had to be at least twenty years younger than Frasier, and they didn’t look related.
I’d thought Black said Frasier was married to a woman. Maybe he was bisexual?
Even as I wondered, Frasier elbowed the
other man’s arm off him good-naturedly.
“You are incorrigible, Rory.” He returned his gaze to Black, his voice serious. “But he’s quite right, of course. We won’t hear of you going.”
Still holding a martini glass in one hand, Frasier pointed towards the far side of the pool. I followed his fingers towards an angled corner of the main building, where it wrapped around that part of the roof’s deck.
“There’s a door through there. You remember, don’t you, Black?” Fishing that same hand in his pocket, he extracted a white pass card, handing it to him. “Use whatever room you’d like. Really. My house is yours. There’s a shower back there. Even a jacuzzi. And I apologize again for Anastasia. I didn’t see what happened precisely...” He gave me a fleeting glance, enough that I knew he was lying. “...but I know her, and I’m quite sure she was bang out of line.”
Lifting an eyebrow, he continued to smile at me.
“Your wife’s reaction was... err, spirited... but wholly understandable.” When I let out a disbelieving snort, he raised a hand. “In any case, I see absolutely no reason to make this situation any uglier than it already was.”
“I appreciate that, Ben,” Black said.
I continued to frown at the older man.
I knew what he was saying.
Frasier and probably at least a few others had definitely seen what happened. His pal “Rory” obviously had, too. Frasier was letting Black know that none of them would admit to that, if questioned, certainly not to the police.
I honestly wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
I didn’t have much time to think about it, though.
Black was already tugging me with him towards the other side of the pool.
12
WE’RE WEAKER LIKE THIS
BLACK FLASHED THE keycard at a security guard who stood near the poolside door. The man clearly recognized him, but still held up a hand and called it in, using the microphone in his sleeve and an earpiece. He nodded to Black a second later, standing aside to display the keycard panel in the building’s wall.
Black swiped the card, and the adjacent door clicked open.
Black Of Mood (Quentin Black: Shadow Wars #2): Quentin Black World Page 16
