“Uh, you know what I just heard? I am Gollum, and victory is my precious. Riiing.”
Whatever that meant. “During our expedition, you will explain anything I don’t understand. That is your only job.”
“Sir, yes, sir.” She performed her customary salute, only to deflate. “I’m the rottenest piece of trash in the factory. Yesterday I killed a woman. Today I’m acting like nothing happened.”
Factory? He gently chucked her under the chin. “If you aren’t careful, guilt will immobilize you. And really, you have no reason to feel guilty. Celeste would have killed you. You stopped her. Do not mourn. Celebrate.”
“I guess,” she muttered. “What if someone else attacks me? You should probably give me a weapon. And before you turn on the paranoia—yeah, like that—I’m not currently plotting against you, just trying to stay alive, which you totally need me to do. I’m necessary. I mean, I’ll have to ditch you at some point, of course. We both know it. But good news! That point isn’t now. You’re the only player who isn’t going to off me immediately.”
She placed a hand over her heart and fluttered her lashes. “My hero!” Then she added, “You and I have formed a temporary alliance. I will help you...by letting you help me. We’re a team. Equal partners, and all that jazz. Now how about that weapon?”
Hardly. “What would your husband say about such a partnership?”
“He’d probably agree that I’m doing you a huge favor by sticking around,” she said.
Let it go. Move on.
Can’t. He grated, “You’re immortal now. He’s not. Like your sister, he’s become a liability.” Did Vale enjoy rubbing up against her husband? Did her divine scent drive him wild? Did he appreciate her uninhibited sensuality?
Hate the male! Today Vale becomes a widow.
Cruel to be kind.
“Forget him and give me a fricking sword already.” She stomped her foot, the picture of pique. “I need to protect myself. Give me a fighting chance, at least.”
“Fighting chance?” He laughed without humor. “You still don’t understand. You can’t protect yourself. You don’t have the skill.”
She glowered and might have maybe possibly appeared ferocious if not for those eyes, like sunlit emeralds. “You’re afraid of me,” she said. “Admit it.”
Afraid? She wasn’t wrong. The things she made him feel... The way she shredded his control. “If you were to strike at me, I could confiscate the weapon and kill you with it before you could apologize. I’m doing you a favor by keeping you unarmed.”
Some secret part of Knox rebelled at the thought of harming her for any reason, at any time. He’d never met anyone like her. So loyal to her sister she would risk a warrior’s wrath in order to find the girl. So loving she would walk away from the only people who mattered to her, shattering her heart, as a simple matter of protection. Did Nola understand how lucky she was?
“It’s clear you’re crushing on me hard.” The glower melted away, and she wiggled her brows. “Here’s a pro tip, free of charge. When you do a favor for a girl, actually do a favor.”
Now she dared to tease him? “Considering I’m the one keeping us alive, you should be nicer to me.”
She scratched her head, as if confused. “You mean I should show my gratitude by pretending to desire you again?”
Pretend? Hardly. After every All War, women had thrown themselves at Knox. He’d had his pick of society’s darlings. Yes, Ansel had paid them. But Vale could do no better. Unless Knox wasn’t her type?
What did her husband look like? What talents did he possess?
Doesn’t matter. Survive. Gain your freedom, win the war. Forget the girl.
If Ansel were to learn about Vale, he would order Knox to slay her.
He swiped up the bag he’d packed and hooked the strap over his shoulder, his limbs as heavy as cinder blocks. Vale released a soft sigh of relief. Because he hadn’t touched her again? Perhaps she was afraid of the intensity of her reaction to him.
Perhaps he was deluding himself.
Time to hunt. “If I’m right about Ronan’s general location, he’ll be with a woman named Petra.” If the two were lovers, as he suspected, they had probably fallen straight into bed the moment they’d escaped the mountains. “Are you able to access Celeste’s memories of the pair?”
“Let’s find out.” Vale closed her eyes and, as seconds passed, scrunched up her features. “She definitely interacted with them. I’m detecting admiration, regret, determination. Problem is, there’s a lot of fog.”
“Fog disappears with heat.” Knox brushed a fingertip along her jaw, the action springing from his subconscious. Her skin was as soft as silk and as deliciously fevered.
She leaned into his touch, only to open her eyes and stiffen. Spine ramrod straight, she jumped away from him, looking anywhere but his direction. “I think I can easily access what was most important to Celeste, but I have to work for everything else.”
“Or maybe you don’t want to learn more.”
“It’s possible,” she admitted. “You plan to murder the pair.” She nibbled on her bottom lip. “Here’s a thought. We lock them up rather than kill them. Dead is dead and can’t be undone. What if you need them for something later on?”
“Combatants are taught to escape any prison.”
One of her black brows winged up. “Except one made of ice, eh?”
“And yet, we escaped even that, eventually.” To make certain she understood the gravity of his next words, he pinned her with a hard stare. “A word of warning, female.”
She groaned. “Great! Another one.”
“There’s an added danger to working with another combatant. Alone, you can sense when your enemies approach. There’s a crackle of energy in the air. When two combatants are together, the crackle is already present, and you sense nothing.”
The color in her cheeks dulled, leaving her ashen. “Got it. I won’t sense anyone, so I have to remain on alert at all times.”
“If a fight breaks out, stay out of my way, but stay close. I can protect you better if I can see you. Just don’t expect me to jump in front of a sword for you.”
“Trust me, I don’t expect anything but the worst from you.” She licked her bloodred lips. A nervous tell, but erotic all the same.
Want those lips wrapped around my shaft.
He tensed. If this kept up, he might eschew the war and move into Vale’s bed.
Tone harder, he said, “Enough chatter. I’ll summon shadows and we’ll go.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
AS KNOX “SUMMONED SHADOWS,” his eye sockets did the blackening thing, the darkness spreading from just beneath his brows to the rise of his cheekbones, creating circles about the size of her fists.
Before, Vale had been creeped out by the horror-movie visual. Now she was kinda sorta soothed by it, because she knew his shadows would shield her from the men and women determined to end her.
Without further ado, he clinked his Rifters together, then waved his hand through the air—exactly as Celeste had done a thousand times in Vale’s new memories. The shadows prevented her from observing the doorway as it opened between two different locations, but a warm breeze caressed her skin, letting her know it had opened.
What would she find on the other side?
As different answers played Whac-A-Mole with her mind, her stomach shriveled, and she wrapped her arms around her middle.
Knox glanced at her, frowned, and took her hand. The shriveling stopped...and fluttering began. Little tremors cascaded through her as he led her into the veil of gloom.
The bunker surrounded her one moment, pure darkness the next. “I can’t see.” Her heart rate hit warp speed. “Where are we?”
“The language... French. Mountains surround the area, and homes are nearby.”
The French Alps?
“Everyone leaves a trace of energy, light and shadow everywhere they go. Ronan’s trace leads to another rift, and I’m attempting to follow the trail.” Knox released her.
Blinded, she reached out, rested a hand against his biceps. He was moving his arms while standing in place, his muscles flexing and unflexing. If she had to guess, she’d say he was clinking his Rifters and waving his hand again and again, opening and discarding rifts.
“What if an innocent person stumbles through one of your rifts?” she asked.
“I never leave a rift until it has closed.” Minutes passed before he added, “Let’s go.”
He retrieved her hand and led her forward once again. From darkness to a sundrenched playground. The light stung her eyes, and she kind of wanted to hiss like a vampire.
“The site is much changed,” Knox said.
Kids laughed as they played on monkey bars. Adults jogged and biked on nearby dirt trails. Next to the trails were paved roads and zooming cars. Mountains peppered the horizon in every direction. So many people, so many spots to lie in wait, and take out a newly minted immortal...
For two long, miserable weeks, Vale had dreamed of returning to civilization. Now, the dream was a reality and part of her longed to rush back into the bunker, where she was safe. Well, safer.
Stick to your POA. Right. If she hung back, she’d never learn more about the war, and she desperately needed to learn more.
Multiple conversations rang out, most spoken in familiar, American English. Well, all right, then. They were somewhere in the United States. But which state, exactly? If she narrowed down the mountains—the Rockies, Ozarks, Smokies, Appalachians, or one she couldn’t remember?—she could pare down her choices. Maybe. Geography had never been her thing.
As she searched for clues, the cornucopia of sounds left a terrible taste in her mouth, too many flavors at once, all melding together, and she cringed.
“Why do you wear this expression?” Knox asked before scanning the terrain. He gave her hand a comforting squeeze.
He’d noticed such a minute detail about her? “I told you about my screwed-up senses. I’m tasting every giggle, shout, bark and roaring engine.”
“Learn to ignore it. Distraction is your enemy.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Easy for him to say. “By the way. You do know your eye sockets turn black when you summon shadows, right? If anyone sees you like that, they’ll freak—” No. No, they wouldn’t. They would assume he wore contacts and makeup or played a trick. People were so suspicious these days. Still, the transformation presented a problem. “It’s distinctive, and people will talk, allowing other players to track you through social media.”
He thought for a moment, nodded. “I’ll be more careful.”
So. He could be reasonable. “Also, I have a word of warning for you. I know this world, you don’t. When I give an order, you need to obey it. But only if you want to live.” She enjoyed the glint of affront in his eyes. Enjoyed the way the sun highlighted his golden sun. “First order of the day. Flee the scene of the crime.”
She tugged him forward. Or rather, she tried. He dug in his heels, ensuring they went nowhere fast.
“A rift remains open for sixty seconds, and you are to remain nearby until it closes,” he said. “Forget innocents. A combatant could sneak in, hide in your safe house, and ambush you upon your return.”
See! This was the kind of info she required. “Rifts must close. Got it. But we’re in modern society now. Someone could be filming us.” She looked around. All right. Okay. No one seemed to care about them. Well, except for a little boy in the process of picking his nose. He caught sight of Knox and froze.
“And you,” she continued, “you’re loaded down with weapons. You aren’t exactly inconspicuous. If you are photographed, the posts and pictures will go viral, guaranteed, and you’ll become infamous. You’ll be arrested.”
“Your ability to speak gibberish and wisdom at the same time amazes me. For once, I think I understood the gist. I’ll cloak my weapons with shadows. And I can assure you that no one noticed our abrupt appearance. I made the shadows fade gradually. No one can see the rift, either.”
She turned, a black hole greeting her. Until her mind filled in the dark space, showing her the other side of the park. A wild process. Then, shadows began to rise from the ground like ghostly apparitions, tucking around Knox to conceal his weapons while also causing the darkness to blend into the background. Incredible!
“Distraction kills, remember?” he said.
Right. She faced the playground and performed another visual scan. Nothing had changed. The little boy hadn’t stopped staring at Knox with wide-eyed fascination.
I know the feeling, kid.
The warrior was a walking contradiction, and she still hadn’t figured him out. He was a killer who hadn’t killed her. A soldier determined to win the war at all cost, who was keeping her—an enemy—safe. He was ruthless enough to tie Vale to a bed, but kind enough to hold her hand in an effort to keep her calm.
He was a beast on the inside and a storybook prince on the outside, hot enough to send her hormones into overdrive.
Ugh. This attraction to him had to end. Wasn’t like she could rehab a murderer or anything.
Celeste had a crush on him, guaranteed. Well, before he’d murdered her lover and all. That was why Vale kept reacting to him on such a visceral, sexual level. That was why, when he’d patted her down, she’d wanted his hands to slip under her clothes...his lips to press against hers...his resistance to crumble—just as hers had done.
News flash. Your logic is flawed and doesn’t check out. You reacted to him before you got hit with another woman’s memories.
A whoosh of wind brushed her backside, and she squeaked with surprise.
“You should have known when the rift closed, should have counted down the seconds in your head.” Knox ushered her forward, the black faded from around his eyes. “Remain aware. Don’t lose track again.”
Hello, new contradiction. His tone was total bastard, but his intention was total saint.
“Don’t worry,” she said, squaring her shoulders. “This Valerina ain’t messing around.”
When they came upon a jam-packed parking lot, Knox looked ready to torch the entire world and call it a day. “What are these things?” He motioned to a car.
Compassion slithered through her. To be stuck on a strange world with unknown technology, surrounded by foreigners—while being hunted by assassins—had to suck a nut.
She’d felt compassion for him once before, yes, when he’d admitted he had no family waiting at home. The raw pain she’d glimpsed in his eyes...she would bet he’d loved and lost someone. Poor Knox.
Whoa. Poor Knox? Screw your head on straight, girlie.
“They’re vehicles, used for travel,” she said. “People sit inside and zoom to a new location.”
On the back of a minivan, someone had written in shoe polish: Breckenridge or Bust! Almost all the other cars had Colorado plates.
She reeled. She’d traveled overseas, gone underground, then stepped into the States without ever getting in a plane or driving in a car.
A sedan motored past them. Interest lit Knox’s expression.
Vale almost laughed. Apparently “boys and their toys” was universal. Or rather, realmiversal. Whatever.
“You will acquire us a vehicle. That one.” He pointed to a cherry-red sports car worth more than she made in...ever.
Of course that one. “I’ll have to steal it. Well, not that one. There are too many anti-theft devices. But I can steal an older, cheaper model, no problem.” Vale hadn’t used this particular skill in a long time. When you spent time on the streets, you adapted or you died. “But theft is a crime, and we’ll be hunted by police. Lawmen and women. The authorities. Cops.”
“Enforcers,” he said, and judging by th
e harshness of his tone, he wasn’t a fan.
Through Celeste, Vale had memories of an Enforcer named Seven. He would kill you if you broke a rule...but only after he played with you a bit.
“If you rift me home to Oklahoma,” she said, “I’ll drive my car through it. Or get some identification and money so we can rent a car here. A perfectly legal transaction.”
He stared past the lot, the street, and examined a small shopping center. “Legal, but also trackable, I assume.” He motioned to a license plate. “And you cannot go home. Ever. An ambush could be waiting for you, even now. Just...steal the car. I’ll hide your actions and handle any fallout.”
Cannot go home...
Keep it together. “Why don’t we rift into Ronan’s base camp?”
“Never rift directly into someone else’s base camp. You cannot plan for every eventuality or trap, and the odds of being maimed or killed are vast.”
Perfect segue. “What’s going to happen if we’re forcibly separated, and I need to rift somewhere else in a hurry?” Don’t act too eager. Play it cool. “I should maybe probably have Celeste’s Rifters. I guess.”
He stiffened, the cords in his neck popping out. “You could escape danger with Rifters, yes. You could also steal my weapons while I’m away from the bunker, and escort enemies to my home.”
“So, for now, that’s a soft maybe. Got it.”
He pushed out a breath. “Does nothing faze you? Never mind. Don’t answer that.” Eyes narrowed, he said, “Steal the car, and I’ll handle the fallout as promised.”
Ugh. “That’s kind of what I fear most. A rising death toll—of humans.” She might not be the biggest fan of people, but there were some good ones out there. Like the parents who actually cared enough about their kids to bring them to a park...the kids themselves, so innocent... Good Samaritans like Carrie, trying to make a difference.
Carrie would expect her to fight, to protect the world and all the people in it. Her foster momma would also want her to find a way to save the combatants.
Could she?
Could she even save herself?
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