The bathroom door slammed open behind me, and I jumped. I calmly began putting the photos back into the drawer, but of course, the damage was done. Goosebumps rose along my skin as I felt his eyes boring into me from behind.
I sat perfectly still as he appeared in front of me, wearing just a towel slung around his naked hips. The wet towel clung. I couldn’t even pretend this didn’t affect me. A nearly naked Dom would only stop affecting me when I was dead.
He didn’t even address my lack of regard for his privacy as I’d thought he would. “How was he?” he asked, his voice low and intense.
I closed my eyes. “Dom, don’t.”
His hand gripped hard over one of my braided buns, pulling my head back roughly. “Tell me,” he ordered.
Finally, I shrugged one shoulder. It was awkward with the way he was holding me, but I think he got the point. “He did the trick,” I said cryptically. He shoved me away in disgust, and started pacing. “How often do you look at these pictures?” I finally asked him. What have I done? I thought to myself.
He stopped, staring at me. “Often enough. I assume you know what happened to him, what I did to him.” His restless pacing began again. “What did you feel when you found out I killed him? That I tore him limb from limb?”
I sighed unhappily, interrupting him. “You should just burn these, Dom. It’s not healthy to be so obsessed with something that happened so long ago.”
He stopped, leaning in close. “I’m not obsessed with those pictures, Jillian. I’m obsessed with you. I’ve been obsessed with you since I was fourteen. What’s not healthy is being obsessed with someone that I despise. I used to think that I could never hate you, that no matter what you did, my feelings couldn’t change.”
“I was wrong. God, was I wrong. You proved me wrong. And it wasn’t just that man, Jillian. You broke your blood oath to me without blinking. You gave up on us without blinking. You were never the person I thought you were. You were an adolescent fantasy that I just couldn’t shake.”
I was still trying to let his stinging words sink in when he continued. “When I met you, you told me I was too young to fall in love. I knew you were wrong at the time. And what I felt didn’t fade with time or distance. But you made me wish it would.” His voice was a low growl in my ear. “Now answer the question. What did you feel when you heard I had killed him?”
I did the idiot thing and told him the truth. I figured it wouldn’t go over well. I was right. “Relief. I heard you were going to fight him in the arena and I was relieved when it was over and you weren’t hurt.”
He smiled at me, and it was an ugly, mean smile-a bitter, heart-wrenching smile. It hurt me as much as it was meant to. “Not hurt? That’s how you see it?”
We had a long and sordid past that spanned more than half of a normal human’s life span. He had loved me since he was barely more than a child. His feelings had embarrassed me at first, since I was far from a child myself, but my reluctance had never thwarted his devotion. Eventually, when he was grown, he had managed to seduce me, and my heart had never been safe from him after that. But I had hurt him, time and again. I broke promises, and I ran. It was a cycle that I doubted I could ever break.
I couldn’t look him in the eye for a minute. When I finally met his angry eyes again, mine were pleading. “I warned you, again and again, that he was going to try to kill you. Everyone could see it but you. And he flat out told me what he planned-”
His bark of a laugh was painful to my ears. “I suppose I should have guessed it then, when you kept running into him and getting all worked up about his plans. Fool that I was, I trusted you.”
“You didn’t trust me enough to listen to me about him. And he never would have quit making attempts on your life. Sneaky, underhanded attempts. So to answer your question, I felt only relief when you killed him. Relief that he wasn’t a threat to you anymore.”
His eyes went a little crazy after I finished talking, and I knew that wasn’t good. “Are you somehow trying to imply that you fucked him for my sake? That you knew I’d challenge him and eliminate the threat to my own life? Please tell me you aren’t trying to make me believe that you fucked him to save my life!” His voice was close to a roar at the end.
“I didn’t say that.” I stayed silent after that, seeing clearly that my every word was antagonizing him even more.
He paced angrily for several long moments before looking at me again. His eyes were tormented. “You wouldn’t believe what I turned into when you left. I had so little control over my rage that I did things that would have made you hate me. Perhaps I did them so that you would.”
“I killed Declan’s guard without a qualm, just slaughtered them like sheep. I didn’t know why they served him. They may have been loyal to him, or just doing their duty. But I unleashed my rage on them without hesitation, and it was a bloodbath. I had enough control not to involve any of my own people, to do it myself, but that was where my control ended. Or perhaps I wanted the carnage all to myself. I honestly can’t recall. It still sits in my memories like a dark red haze.”
“There were ten men guarding him. He thought to hide from me. He seemed to think that if I couldn’t speak to him, I couldn’t challenge him. I warned his guard once to leave or die, but they were dutiful. Misguided, but dutiful. It wasn’t even a challenge to decapitate them, one by one. And then there was Declan. I was an inch away from killing him on sight, but I drew it out in the arena. I wanted an audience to see his humiliation. I wanted you to hear about it, about the brutality of it. I wanted you to hear about how I toyed with him. I drew it out, to make him scared, to make him suffer, and cry, and beg. And he did. I wanted you to know that I tore him into tiny pieces and bathed in his blood. I wanted you to know that I drank his blood, and ate his heart, and took his power as my own with no remorse. Perhaps it’s better that I didn’t find you early on.” He came to stand above me on the bed, that mis-matched gaze boring down at me. His wolf’s eye was wild with the beast. It’s cobalt twin wasn’t far behind.
“When we found Christian, on the verge of leaving town, I snapped. Did he tell you about what happened?”
I nodded, never looking away from him.
“I tortured him relentlessly. I did it myself. There was scarce an inch of him unscathed when I was through. I sliced him to ribbons.”
That I hadn’t known. I felt a sickness deep into my soul.
“I was just so sure that he knew where you were, or at least, how to get ahold of you. And I was just as certain I could break him. And when I realized that nothing would make him talk, whether he knew or not, I came so close to killing him. You don’t understand how close. I could taste his severed jugular in my mouth. That’s how close I was to taking his life. I even wanted you to know about it, if only to make you reappear, even if it was just so you could come after me. I still don’t know what stopped me, but I think not killing him is what snapped me out of the rage I’d been living in. At least enough to function again.”
“Did you know that’s what you left behind?” he continued relentlessly. “An animal so wounded it didn’t care who it hurt. If you had known it would turn me into a monster, would you still have done it?”
I didn’t begin to know how to answer that. Though angry, he was no animal now. I couldn’t picture the things he described. Dom and self-control had always just been a fact to me. And a point of pride for him. A symbol of his power. Could I even begin to imagine all I’d taken from him when I left? I’d always thought I could. The parting had cost me, as well. I hadn’t had a moment of affectionate human contact since we’d parted. I simply couldn’t bear it. But, of course, there were some pieces of the destruction I had failed to anticipate. Like how it would make him hate himself. I had been so certain that all of the loathing, both from him and from myself, would fall squarely on my shoulders.
“I just don’t know. I felt so desperate, so powerless over the events taking place. So much of what I did was panic and instinct. And onc
e the running starts, it’s impossible to stop. It’s a familiar pattern that’s almost a comfort to me.” My answer was quiet.
So was his response. “Get dressed and get out.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Touchy Subject
I took a quick shower, re-donning my burnt up clothes as a last resort. If Dom had any clothes I could wear in his apartments, I didn’t particularly want to know about it, so I made a point of not asking. Most of my holsters were still intact, and I armed myself, my guns and knives now fully visible.
“Your phone’s been ringing,” Dom told me as I re-entered his bedroom. He waved in the direction of his nightstand, where my cel was sitting, miraculously unharmed by the nights violence.
I’d missed several calls from Caleb. His messages sounded borderline panicked, and I can’t tell you how good that wasn’t for my peace of mind. The gist of the messages was, “Get to Club Dante. Some shit’s going down.” He didn’t pick up when I called.
I hung up the phone, looking at Dom. He was eyeing me coldly. “I’ve gotta bounce,” I said. I paused awkwardly. “My kind has an enthrallment spell. I’ve seen humans ruined by it. It plants a pernicious, persistent devotion that holds you in it’s grip for a lifetime. I don’t have any idea if druids can be affected by it, and I was never taught the enchantment, but I wonder if I inadvertently cast it on you, when you were young.”
He laughed, and it was a bitter sound. “Wouldn’t that be handy? Any spell cast surely has a counter-spell. But no, I think not. And doesn’t that just say it all about us? Love is such a foreign concept to you that you think it must be an errant spell.”
I flinched. Talk about a jab that hit it’s mark. The sad thing was, Dom was all I knew about romantic love, and I really had tried my best to show it to him. But amidst the pain in my chest, his words also brought me the beginnings of an idea. What I wouldn’t give to have that counter spell, just to cast it on Dom to see if it had any effect. If I had somehow enthralled him, he had a right to be free. And I needed to know.
He nodded at the door, dismissing me. “Sloan will go with you.”
“Ugh. I don’t even know where my car is.”
“Sloan has a car. She can drive you.”
I glared at him. “I’m pretty sure Sloan won’t want to go where I’m going.”
His lip curled in a half-smile. “Yes, Club Dante. I heard.” There was disgust in his voice. “I don’t care what kind of sordid places you frequent. Sloan goes with you.”
I gave a little half wave as I stormed out. I knew he wanted a fight more than anything else and it wasn’t hard to figure out that having Sloan follow me around was the lesser evil.
Sloan was waiting in the antechamber, by the elevator. At my entrance, she rose from the chair she’d been lounging in. She gave me a blank face, not saying a word, just pushing the down button on the elevator. We both filed in silently.
“Any idea where I could pick up clothes this time of night for an S&M club?” I asked bluntly as the elevator began to move. I was wearing the tattered remains of my combat gear. My cargo pants still covered the essentials, but the black tank I’d worn under my armored vest was pushing it. The material that had covered my stomach had burned away completely, leaving my midriff bare. The chest area was at least covered, though the straps on the tank looked in danger of falling off.
She looked a little surprised at the question, but recovered quickly, eyeing up my tattered clothes. “What you’re wearing should work, if the club is dark enough to hide the Necro blood. That torn up, shredded look is actually kind of in right now. You need different shoes though. Some black stilettos would be better.”
“I don’t do heels. I’m keeping the shoes.”
She shrugged. “Like I care.” She was silent for a moment. “Shit, does Dom know you’re going to an S&M club?”
“Yes. You don’t need to come, though.”
“Why the hell would you tell him about it?”
“He overheard me talking on the phone. Believe me, it’s the last place I want to go, and certainly the last place I wanted to tell him I was going. Just loan me a car and I’ll get out of your hair.
She just gave me a level stare. “Are you saying you’re being forced to go to an S&M club?”
“Yes, I am.”
She just raised a brow. “I don’t even wanna know. Though I suppose I’ll be finding out soon enough, since I’m coming with you. Don’t bother trying to lose me. I’m your shadow until I’m ordered otherwise. But believe me, I’d rather be doing just about anything else.”
“Me too.”
We reached the parking garage, and I waved her ahead. “Lead on.”
She led me to a new black mustang with bronze racing stripes. “Nice car,” I told her.
“Whatever.” She slid into the drivers side, starting the car and backing up right as I shut the passenger door. “Where am I going?”
“Club Dante. Need directions?”
“Sadly, no,” she replied shortly. I was more than a little curious how she knew about the club, but knew better than to press my luck and ask her about it.
Several silent minutes of driving weakened my resolve. I finally asked, “Ok, so how do you know about Club Dante?”
She cast me a cursory glance. “You need me to turn on the radio or something? I don’t feel like chatting with you.”
“Sounds like a touchy subject.”
She turned the radio on, tuned it to the rock station, then cranked it up loud, effectively drowning me out for the duration of the drive.
I’d thought getting through the door would be a problem. I knew a little about the place from Lynn. At least enough to know you needed a password to get through the door. So I was pleasantly surprised when the doorman opened his little eye slot, widened his eyes, and the door swung gently open.
The small doorman was in full S&M getup. From the looks of it, I guessed he was a sub, covered in only latex straps. He stared at me, literally open-mouthed.
“We good to just go in then?” I asked him.
He looked like he wanted to speak, but was just kind of sputtering. I shrugged at him. “I’ll take that as a yeah. Thanks, dude.” I brushed past him.
I had no clue about the layout of the club, but figured I could search every room until I found Caleb or Lynn. A simple plan, but sometimes simple works just fine.
I was striding down a narrow hallway when I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. A small figure darted around a corner to my right. I would’ve sworn it was a child. My brows drew together at the thought of a child in this place.
I caught up to the child in a dark room at the end of the hallway. I switched on the light in the small room. It was a little girl, and she sat huddled on the ground in the back corner of the room, skinny knees pulled up to her chest, head down. Her streaky, ashy blond hair was a tumbled mass that touched the ground where she sat. It covered her arms and face almost completely.
“Are you ok?” I asked her quietly. She tensed at the sound of my voice, but didn’t answer.
“What are you doing here? This is no place for a child.”
At that she looked up. Her eyes were a startling lavender, her features lovely and delicate and unmistakably asian. Though by her streaky blond hair and lavender eyes, it was obvious that one of her parents was not. She stood. She was tall and delicate, and wore a stained, baby-blue nightgown that was close to rags. I guessed her age at maybe nine.
“Are you ok?” I asked her again.
She blinked those gorgeous eyes at me slowly. “I am learning english,” she spoke carefully.
I nodded. “Ok. What’s your name?”
“What’s your name?” she asked me back.
I smiled. “I’m Jillian. What’s your name?”
She smiled back, and her face lit up. “I’m Jillian, too!!”
I laughed at the obvious lie. “You are not. What’s your name, really?”
She clutched her hands together excite
dly. “I’m Jillian. We have same name. Maybe you’re my mother?”
I shook my head at her, still smiling. “Sorry, sweetheart, I’m not your mother. I think I would have remembered if I had a little girl.”
“Maybe you forgot.”
“I promise I didn’t. Can you tell me what you’re doing in a place like this?”
“This is bad place.”
“For children, yes, it’s very bad. Where are your parents?”
She scowled, and even her scowl was pretty. “I don’t know. I think maybe you are my mother.”
I sighed at her persistence. “Why do you think that?”
She looked down, shrugging. “I don’t know, but I wish you were.”
I knelt down in front of her. “Trust me, you don’t want a stranger for a mother.”
Her chin set stubbornly. “You are not strang-” she was cut off suddenly by a loud crashing sound that seemed to shake the whole building.
“Um, I think we should check that out,” Sloan spoke, reminding me of her presence. I nodded, standing.
“Stay here,” I told the little girl. “I’ll come back after we take care of some business, ok?”
She ran after me, surprising me with a tight hug to my stomach. “Be careful. They are very strong. Don’t get hurt.” She placed both hands on my belly, whispering something indecipherable. It was then that it occurred to me that the girl wasn’t human. I had no time to ask, though, knowing my help was needed elsewhere.
“You stay here,” I reminded her as I strode away. “We’ll be back very soon.”
We continued our search of the club, and I couldn’t help but notice the increasingly strange looks I was getting. I glanced back at Sloan. “You notice people are staring at me?”
Breathing Fire (Heretic Daughters) Page 21
