A Need So Insatiable

by Cecilia Robert

  “How did it go?”

  “Nightmare,” I say, remembering the eager reporter. “He’s after my blood.”

  She laughs, and pats my cheek. I scowl at her. Not many people have the privilege of doing that. Simone knows and takes advantage of it.

  “I know you, Rafael. You’re stubborn, and I’m sure you’ll track her down after this. But please, think about it before you do. I care for both of you.”

  “She doesn’t remember me.” The knife stuck in my chest burrows deeper.

  Simone’s eyebrows shoot up. “You want that? For her to remember you?”

  I squeeze my neck with my hand, lifting my gaze to meet Simone’s. I can’t read her expression. I hate it when she does that. It means she’s about to deliver advice that might cause my blood to boil.

  “Is there any point in asking you to stay away from her?”

  “It’s Sophie.”

  “She’s my goddaughter,” she snaps at me.

  My stomach twists like it always does at Olivia’s memory. Whatever Simone sees on my face softens her harsh expression. She cups my cheek with one hand, her sky-blue eyes filling with tears. I should be the one comforting her, but instead, she’s the one doing the comforting.

  “You’ve done so well these last couple of years, Rafael. You don’t need that kind of reminder.”

  I lean into her palm and close my eyes. Simone is the closest thing I have to a mother. But asking me to stay away from Sophie now that she’s reappeared in my life . . .

  “I’m not sure I can stay away,” I say. “Not this time.”

  She exhales and shakes her head. “I don’t think--”

  “Fate,” I say, cutting her off. “It’s fate, Simone.”

  “Maybe it is. Maybe it’s not. Maybe it’s a curse waiting to happen,” she says. Her hand drops away from my face. “Or maybe this is how it’s meant to be.”

  What should I say to that? Simone has a way of boggling my mind with her philosophical riddles. I kiss her lined cheek, and glance down at what brought me here in the first place. “I need help decoding this . . . monster.”

  Her eyebrows shoot up again. “I swear, you’re the only person in your generation who rejects technology.” She shakes her head and picks up the tablet. “Just tap here,” her fingers fly over the screen, “and here, and vóila!” She murmurs something under her breath about stubbornness and minds unwilling to learn new things.

  There isn’t any bite in her words. She knows how I feel about technology. At least I’ve managed to divert her from Olivia’s memory.

  “Thank you,” I say. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Simone.”

  She rolls her eyes. “You’d probably not know your face from your ass.”

  I laugh. She’s right. I’d be lost without her in more ways than one.

  “I love you, Rafael.”

  I press a kiss on her forehead, and walk out of the room. God, I love that woman. Even though I never say the words back, she knows I love her. I hope she does, anyway.

  Sophie

  IT’S BEEN ten minutes since Rafael pressed his lips on mine and left my world spinning. My knees are still weak, and I’m not sure I’ll make it to my Honda.

  He. Kissed. Me. Rafael Van Rees kissed me.

  It was just a skin-on-skin type of kiss but, JESUS! The way he’d kissed me! I swear, it was like he was handing me his soul with just a single breath. He’d held me like I was made of glass and he couldn’t let me slip through his fingers. And the way his arm had circled my waist to keep me from turning into goo on the floor . . .

  The mother of all shivers cascades, wave after wave, down my spine. I grab the banister, dizzy.

  Holy shit! Holy . . . holy something. Why does he feel and look familiar?

  I shove that thought aside for later.

  Had Simone called him after we spoke about me crushing on him? Crap! He probably thinks he’s done his day’s service by fulfilling a crazy girl’s dream.

  Ugh. I need to get laid. Soon. Otherwise, I might end up jumping a stranger. Or Rafael himself. I breathe in, certain that I know him. But that’s impossible. I wouldn’t forget Rafael even if I’d been stuck on the moon for centuries. His presence is just too . . . in your face.

  I scoop up my scattered emotions and poise, taking in another deep breath. At this rate, I might check myself into a hospital for lack of oxygen. I leave the theatre--confused, and utterly distracted by everything that is Rafael--and walk toward my Honda. I shove my hand inside my handbag, rummaging for my keys, just as two shadows join mine on the sidewalk.

  Sophie

  JERKING AROUND, I bite back a shriek as I look up to find Tall Guy smiling down at me, the scar along his cheek more prominent.

  “Hello, Miss Sophie Fisher,” he says with an accented voice. “Please, come with us.”

  Fucking great, Sophie! See what happens when you get distracted?

  “Where to?” Surprisingly, my voice sounds strong, unlike the chaos happening in my gut. This feels like a scene from The Godfather.

  Tall Guy points toward a silver Volvo parked across the street. I curl my hands to stop them from shaking as I calculate the distance to my Honda. I snake my hand back inside my bag, searching for the pepper spray I’ve been carrying around the past few weeks.

  “What do you want with me?” I say, tightening my hold on the pepper spray. I slide a finger along its smooth surface and toward the nozzle, making sure it’s faced away from me like I’d been shown when I bought it.

  “Josef,” he says, indicating himself. “Boss wants to meet you.” Both men box me between them, herding me toward the traffic lights.

  His boss? I dart a glance at Musclepants on my right. He pins me with cold, grey eyes, his lips thinning out, and I drop my gaze.

  Jeez. He looks like he eats puppies for breakfast.

  “Cat got your tongue, mister?” I mumble under my breath, scanning the streets littered with pedestrians. Straight ahead is the U2 subway. I’m considerably shorter than the two goons. I could duck and weave through Bellariastrasse, down Burgring and then lose them when I hit the Vienna Opera House.

  We stop to wait for the lights to change. I only have a few minutes to carry out my plan. As the light clicks red, I yank my hand out of the bag. As if sensing my next move, the two men shift their grip from my forearms to my armpits, their bodies pressing even closer.

  No, no, no! Foot-licking turds anticipated my move. My hands and feet dangle in the air as they carry me toward the Volvo, the opposite direction from the subway.

  “This is just a friendly talk, Miss Fisher, no need to pull a quick one on us,” Josef murmurs close to my ear. I jerk back, but it’s useless. I’m still pinned to their sides like shoe glue. We’re getting closer, and I can see the Volvo’s personalized plates. KRAV 12.

  Oh my god, I’m going to pee myself.

  I kick my right foot, catching someone’s shin. Musclepants grunts softly, his grip tightening in warning.

  We arrive at the car much too soon. The urge to throw up hits the back of my throat. Sweat breaks on my forehead as the back door swings open and I’m tossed onto the seat. My face hits the leather the same time a hand closes around my pepper spray, yanking it out of my grip.

  “Give it back to her,” a smooth voice says from the confines of the car. “She will not use it on me. Isn’t that correct, lovely Miss Fisher?”

  I haven’t seen the face yet, but that voice . . . holy shit, that voice sends a shiver down my spine. I shake my head, hoisting myself up. My chest aches as my heart pounds in overdrive.

  “Good. I’ve been anxious to meet you for a long time. Come, come.”

  I slide over on the seat, scanning the interior. Cream-colored leather seats, modified dashboard, and tinted windows. Crap crap crap! This is bad. Like twenty shades of gangster bad.

  Calm down, Sophie. Just take a deep breath, and calm the freak down.

  I gaze around the car again, biting my lip to block the scream f
ighting it’s way up my chest.

  Finally, I turn to face the guy who owns my ass, swallowing around the lump in my throat as I take in his features. Ice-cold, blue eyes; perfectly sculpted lips and jaw; black hair highlighted with white stripes; and flawless, pale skin. His appraisal is ruthless and calculating.

  “Asking me to come see you would have been polite, you know,” I say, letting my mouth toss me to my demise.

  I swear the temperature inside the car cools down a thousand degrees.

  “Would you have come if I asked you to?”

  Hell no.

  He holds his hand out to me. “My name is Kravic. But call me Krav, as we’ll be working together very closely.”

  Krav, my ass.

  I take a deep breath, and quickly slip my hand in his, retrieving it just as fast and curling it on my lap. His handshake is as cool as his eyes and personality. His skin reminds me of the sandpaper I use for my projects. I can’t let him know he terrifies me.

  “Can’t say it’s great to see you, given the circumstances.” Gah! What’s wrong with my mouth? I need to learn when to shut the hell up.

  He stares at me until I drop my gaze.

  “Let’s talk about money.”

  Oh, let’s not.

  “Your father owes my client seventy thousand Euros. Seventy-five thousand with interest included. You and I have to come to an agreement today.”

  Say what?

  My heart thumps around in my chest; it should come out and smack him in the face any second now.

  Swallowing hard, I open my mouth and close it again. How large were Dad’s debts that he had to get himself involved with the likes of Kravic? Was borrowing money from the bank not enough? I clench my jaw, fighting nausea and panic in my gut.

  The seat squishes as he moves forward. “You seem confused.”

  Oh, clever guy. Great deduction.

  He leans back, steepling his fingers. “Let me tell you a story that might help explain. There was once a king who ruled his kingdom happily until a wicked witch stole something very valuable from him. He swore to make her pay, her and every single being in her bloodline.”

  He takes a deep breath. When he exhales, it brushes along the skin on the back of my hand. I shrink further into the seat.

  “Your mother took someone from me. But I took my time. Even after she died, I took my time. I got word that your father’s company was falling apart, and like the fool he was, he was scrambling for money wherever he could find it. I approached him through a friend of mine who owns a loan shark. And vóila!” He grins, sending a shiver all the way down to my toes. “Here we are.”

  Holy crap! I need to breathe before I pass out. Is it hot in here? It must be me, because Kravic looks like life handed him gold on a silver platter.

  Seventy fucking thousand Euros? Jesus, Dad. What did you buy, a damn castle?

  How could he have gotten tangled up with the likes of dipshit over there? And what would Kravic say if I told him I have less than a thousand Euros in my account? Would he toss me out of the car to my death?

  I nod and bite my lip. Ugh! I don’t really like the way he’s staring at me right now. Like I’m his winning lottery ticket.

  “I need time.”

  “I don’t have that kind of leisure. I’ll be nice because this--you and I--is a new contract. But I want the money in a month, yes?” he says, his accent deeper than Josef’s.

  Where do I get a shitload of money in such a short time? I’m not even sure the bank will approve the loan I applied for two weeks ago.

  I glance out the window of the car, and my heart stops beating altogether. We’re parked outside Lilli’s school. I didn’t feel or hear the car move from the theatre.

  “W-What are we doing here?”

  He waves his hand toward the building. “Just showing you what you have to lose if you don’t meet the terms of our agreement.”

  I feel when the car moves this time. I press my palms on my dress and his eyes automatically lower to them, then slide up to where my dress is gathered mid-thigh. I shift to pull it down.

  “Either bring me the money, or you’ll come work for me.”

  Jesus H. Christ! There should be a circle in hell just for this man, because he’d be tossed out of all nine. “You will get your money.”

  His gaze snaps back to mine, smiling. “Looks like we have a deal.” He leans forward, staring at my mouth. “Let’s seal it with a kiss, shall we?”

  Gag! “Is that the best you could come up with?” He narrows his eyes, and this time, I know I’m staring death in the eye.

  Something metallic clicks, snapping my gaze from his face to the sound. A knife.

  “Blood?” He grins, and I fight the urge to sink into the leather and disappear.

  A kiss it is. “No one touches my sister, or my friends.”

  He throws his head back and laughs. “Oh, my dear Sophie. You think you are in a position to make demands? I own you. You and your sister. Lady’s choice--kiss, or blood?” When I don’t answer, he says, “Don’t think of informing the police about this. You won’t win. We’re like a mirage. You think you see it, but when you reach the source, it’s not there anymore. We don’t exist. You know what they say about not following orders, don’t you?”

  I’m not stupid. That’s what I’m about to say, but the words freeze on my lips when I look out the window again. We’re cruising along the street where Dani and Jace live. There’s no way I’d ever hide from Kravic. He knows everything and everyone who matters to me, how to break me without touching me, how to kill me without putting a bullet through my head.

  I shift closer to him, leaning in, my fists clenched on my lap to stop myself from punching him. He doesn’t stir, so I move closer and brush my lips on his, then pull back, wanting to wipe my mouth.

  Ugh! Seriously, UGH! It’s like kissing a cobra: cool, coiled, and ready to strike. Without warning, he grips the nape of my neck with one hand and slams his mouth on mine. I gasp at the sudden action, and his tongue slips between my lips, wrestling with mine--mine, pushing his out, his, wanting in. As quickly as he merged our lips together, he stops, leaning back with that cold, cold smile.

  “Much better than blood.”

  I jerk my gaze from his scrutiny, blinking back tears, and stare out the window.

  Crying is not an option, Sophie.

  It never was. I didn’t cry when my mother died, and I’m not about to start now.

  As soon as the Volvo pulls to a stop outside Konrad Theatre, the door flies open. Before I can escape, Kravic grabs my hand and presses it to his lips.

  “See you soon, Miss Sophie.”

  I snatch it away and scoot out of the car, stumbling on the cold pavement. I turn to stare as the taillights weave and vanish into mid-morning traffic.

  Sophie

  JACE’S GREEN eyes bug out, and Dani’s lips tighten with every detail as I finish recapping my day. I haven’t told them about Rafael’s kiss. I want to keep that to myself a little longer.

  Placing the knife on the chopping board, I dump the diced vegetables into the pot in front of me, and stir the contents.

  “Wow!” Jace says, “So, you met a hot guy, who makes conducting a group of people banging and plucking instruments look sexy--” she laughs at her own joke, “and a real gangster. Do you know how badass that is?”

  “Don’t remind me.” All I want to do is take another shower to wash Kravic’s name off my skin. The minute I arrived at Jace’s flat, I’d showered and scrubbed my tongue. By the time I was done, I thought I’d need reconstructive surgery to sew it back in place.

  “You truly are musically challenged, Jace,” I say, chuckling under my breath.

  “Rumor has it that Rafael conducts the orchestra like he, you know . . .” Her eyelashes drop, giving me one of those seductive glances I’m sure many have fallen prey to. “Fucks.”

  “Jace!”

  Dani pins Jace with her grey eyes, shaking her head. “Is that all you think abou
t? Sex?”

  Jace shrugs, swirling her glass of Chardonnay before tipping it to her lips.

  I glance quickly at Lilli, lying on her stomach in Dani and Jace’s living room, scribbling on a paper, surrounded by text books. Thank God, her ear buds are plugged in.

  “I say it like it is,” Jace says, refilling my glass and sliding it toward me. “Here. Maybe this will loosen you up.”

  “I’m not uptight.” I inhale the contents in the glass. “But I could marry you right now.”

  “Stop channeling your inner drunk,” she says. “Remember Grease Boy?”

  “Grease Boy was an idiot.” Two months ago, I’d humored Jace and gone on a date with one of her matchmaking attempts. He’d looked like a lost character from Grease. Pompadour, tight jeans, and all. Things had gotten interesting when he’d asked me to “tone down my thighs” as he so gently put it, and then continued to criticize every aspect of my body. I’d stormed out of the restaurant--something I’ve never done before--leaving him to pay the hefty dinner bill.

  And Jace still hasn’t stopped setting me up with the men on her client list--or Hawk.

  I sip from my glass. “His eyes. There was a certain way he looked at me. I couldn’t help thinking I know him from somewhere.”

  “Grease Boy?”

  “Rafael,” I correct her.

  “Oh,” she says, swirling her glass. “Maybe you met him at Hawk’s office?”

  “I’m sure I’d have remembered. Is he one of Hawk’s contributors?”

  She shakes her head. “They’ve been best friends for ages.”

  This is news. “Really? You’ve never mentioned him before.”

  She rolls her big, green eyes, and pushes raven-black hair off her face. “It never came up. Hawk is hardly ever in town, so it sort of slipped my mind. Besides, Rafael is so mysterious.”

  “He is?”

  She nods. “The only people who know Rafael Van Rees, are Rafael Van Rees and my brother. They’ve known each other for years. Neither of them talk about their past, or, if they do, it’s behind closed doors.”