“Independence is an unusual name.” A small feminine voice disrupts my observation.
“Well, I’m an unusual wolf.” I turn and watch the owner of that voice, a diminutive figure, step closer to my left side.
How had I missed her there?
“I’d guess so.” She agrees.
I take a long breath in, analyzing her scent. Faintly wolf. Very earthy under her perfume of cotton-candy body spray.
What I hear is even more disconcerting. I close my eyes to concentrate and confirm I’m hearing right.
Two heartbeats. A fluttering heartbeat from her stomach and a even-paced beat from her chest.
I pop open my eyes, and can’t help the traveling of my eyes from her face to her stomach and back up again.
There’s no discernable bump, but her body language, arms crossed low and in front of her belly says it all.
“Please.” Her one-word verbalization says nothing.
“I am Desdemona. Everyone calls me Des for short.” She continues. Her eyes are striking green, her hair as blonde as mine. But she’s a foot shorter, with a heart-shaped face and wide-almond eyes that would give any Disney princess a run for her money.
“Isaac is my…” She stops short and I can only guess at the vexation of trying to define a relationship with Isaac.
“You don’t have to explain.” I give her a smile to soften any harshness; I’m on edge and not in the mood for small-talk.
I eye Lucian across the room, surrounded by a small crowd.
“It’s just that I wanted to ask you something…” Des’s small voice floats close to my ear, drawing my attention back to her.
I feel a strange affinity for this small woman.
Is it that she looks so helpless? Or that we share some physical similarities?
“What is it?” I sip my drink, still eyeing the room over the edge of my glass.
“Will you...that is...I’d like to leave with you when you go.” She near whispers.
My head swivels back to her quickly.
“What? You mean tonight? You want to leave with us tonight?”
She nods once. “Yes.”
“We’re going back to New Orleans. It’s just another vampire territory there.” I am trying to figure out how to tell her that Queen Kaida is likely to ship her back to Isaac.
Political maneuvers very rarely take into account personal desires.
“I know. But -” Before she can go on, Isaac’s voice booms from the front of the room.
He’s standing a foot above the crowd, and I smile ironically to myself.
Here’s a king on his dias.
“Lucian, Independence, please come forward.”
I push away from the wall, working my way through the crowd to stand by Lucian’s side.
“I am King Isaac of the Southwest territories, and I’ve asked for Independence’s presence here tonight as paid retribution for her transgressions of killing my friend, King Jael!”
Uh-oh. My stomach drops at his words.
Isaac’s face has not lost it’s manic grin.
I suck in a breath and turn to Lucian.
“Here’s what you don’t know kid,” his eyes spark luminous yellow-gold for a moment. “It’s us against them.” He hooks a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the vampire standing behind him.
A sinking suspicion is floating down from my throat to my stomach.
He leans back, no longer looking down at me.
His posture, the smallest stiffening of his muscle is all the warning I need. I’ve been training with Lucian for more than a year now. I read his body cues almost subconsciously.
And hell yeah, he’s saying that right now, we are about to have to fight our way out of this.
I’ve been spoiling for a fight.
My left hand goes to the flat blade at the the nape of my neck. It’d been easy enough to hide the long dagger there. The blade aligning easily with my spine.
It’d given me confidence in this den of potential enemies.
Lucian spins. A vampire on his right blurs toward him.
The vampire on my left comes at me. I spin to block his attack.
He loses a finger in the release of my blade from it’s sheath.
The resulting blood splatter seems to incite the mass of vamps. Some rush to the exits, some rush us.
Lucian and I fight back to back; And five go down from my blade alone before a gunshot surprises us all. Freezing us mid-action.
Lucian drops. Another blast. And Lucian falls completely backwards.
This isn’t how this ends. Enraged, I turn to Isaac, the one with the handgun smoking in his hand, and first with an upstroke, I separate his gun hand from his body. Then I slice backhand from left to right along his throat.
He drops. Silence reigns and I seize my chance.
Dipping to the ground, scooping up the handgun from Isaac’s now severed hand. I kneel beside Lucian getting his arm around my shoulders.
I stand, and point the gun at the mass of pissed-off vamps.
“Don’t any of you move! Don’t come any closer.” I threaten.
I back out of the side door, burdened by Lucian’s heavy body. He’s bleeding from the two bullet wounds in his chest and unconscious.
Vamps have fast healing powers, he just needs to feed. So let’s hope Isaac is down for a while, if not dead. We need to escape this viper den.
Ears ringing from the gun shot blasts, I tow Lucian backwards to the front door, noting with grim acceptance that Isaac’s vamps are following, but keeping back, wary of the gun in my hand.
I fire three warning shots, striking two of the crowd. They are seem slower to follow us out the front door after that.
A literal gift from heaven is sitting in the drive, door open and engine running. Fire-engine red Ferrari.
I don’t question it. This is our lucky day.
I drop Lucian into the passenger seat and shut the door, before running around to the driver’s side.
I catch a glimpse of the astonished face of the valet before I plop down into the seat, drop the hand gun into the cup holder and slam the door shut. I hit the accelerator and note the vamps streaming out the door after us.
The car fishtails out of the drive. But we are free.
It’s nearing midnight and we have a flight to catch.
I press my foot down on the gas pedal, worry for Lucian pressing me harder. He hasn’t regained consciousness and the metallic smell of blood is filling the air.
“Hey.” Her quiet voice spooks me.
“Jesus!” I ping-pong my eyes from the road to the small backseat.
Worried luminous eyes meet mine.
“What are you doing back there?” I yell to Desdemona. Guess it was not so much our lucky day, as it was Des’ handy-work that had the car waiting for us.
“I had to get away. You are my one chance.”
“FUCK!” I can’t turn her away, and I can’t go back. I slam my palm on the open steering wheel. What will the Queen say?
I killed - correction – maybe killed another royal vamp and absconded with his girlfriend!
As shitty as it is, I - we - have to take her with us.
A powerful thump hits the top of the sports car.
“FUCK!” It has to be one of our pursuers.
A weird slicing of metal on metal reaches my ears. A sword pierces the metal roof, it’s katana-like blade disappearing back up as my mind registers what it is.
The night desert is passing by on either side of the road. Sage brush and brown gravel.
Another slice. It skims the back of the driver’s seat. I can hear the rip of the fabric. Desdemona whimpers.
“Stay down! As low as you can get.” If I don’t do something the next one will be through my head.
I pull my handgun from the cup holder.
Unload the clip just above my head.
The flashes and booms inside the car are disorienting to say the least and I have to ease off the gas a little to sto
p myself from crashing.
I must hit him, cause seconds tick by without action.
I get back on the accelerator, hitting a nice freedom-inducing fifty-five.
“Is he gone?”
“I think so…” My eyes are watching the rearview mirror. But in the craziness of firing a gun in such a confined space, I didn’t get to see him actually fall off.
Then it happens. Sharp, piercing pain in my right shoulder. I slam on the brakes.
Hard.
A man flies over the hood of the SUV, lands with an impressive rag-doll like impact.
I know he’s not dead. I hit the gas again, but when I lift my right arm to steer, it doesn’t want to work. I turn to see what the problem is.
My cheek brushes metal.
His sword has pierced from the roof down into the top of my shoulder.
And this fucker is getting back up!
“Hang on, Des!” I yell as I aim the front bumper at him.
He is either stunned or thinks I’m playing chicken. Cause he doesn’t step out of the way. And the punt he takes off the bumper is satisfying.
I don’t stick around to see if he’s getting up this time. Chances are he is.
And that’s a disappointment.
Back on the highway, I get our bearings, thankful for private airfields.
I hit the hands-free button. “Call Calum.” I tell it.
“Yo.”
“Calum, we’re coming in hot. Have the bird fired up and ready to roll.” I tell him.
“You got it, Indy. ETA?”
“Less than ten.”
I make it there in eight.
The sword is going to make the next steps challenging. I attempt to drop my shoulder, hoping to unpin myself, but the pain and angle are impossible.
“Argh. Des. I need you to crawl out and get on the roof and pull the sword straight up.”
“Ok.” Her voice is small, but determined.
She crawls over the console, and Lucian gives a small grunt when her knee presses into him. But she’s out. The muffled sounds of her getting on top of the sports car can be heard.
I swear this sword is so deep I can feel the vibrations down to my bones when she grabs it.
“I’m going to pull it straight up in three...two…”
She doesn’t wait for one.
Searing. Blinding. Pain.
I work to breath past it.
“Are you ok?” Her voice comes from above still.
I open my door. “Get to the plane. Get on it.” I tell Des as she works her way off the roof of the car. I round the hood, pull open the door, and lift Lucian from the passenger seat with much effort and grunting.
“C’mon Loosh...Work with me here.” I beseech him.
The plane is twenty feet away.
I get my good shoulder under his armpit.
Spin and get his arm around my shoulders.
I realize my mistake then.
His head lolls in close proximity to that gaping stab wound at the top of my shoulder.
That smell of fresh blood is all it takes.
Unfortunate for me. He latches on to the source. His jaw wide, he bends and spans his mouth across my shoulder.
I stagger to keep us moving. Just five steps and the blood loss is so great that my vision is slimming down to pinpricks.
I’m no longer holding Lucian up. He’s holding me.
He pulls away. Swings my legs up in his arms and sprints to the airplane.
Good thing he’s recovered.
On the plane, he deposits me on the small couch, and I watch as Des pulls the door shut behind us.
Lucian is talking to Calum.
“Take off, now!”
He comes back into my field of vision. Grabs my hand with one blazing yellow eye.
Dark knight. Face bloody. I smile feeling that shakiness and cold sweat that comes with blood loss. The nice thing about vamp saliva is that it is a grade-A coagulant. I’m no longer bleeding, but my shoulder aches with deep pain.
He cups a hand on either side of my face and brings our lips together.
I feel him. His energy is blazing. His passion blazing.
Euphoria at escaping death. Elation at winning.
Our tongues dance. His hands are everywhere on my body, and mine on his.
I tingle all over from his electric touch.
I pull him close to me. I push my own body into him.
It's not enough.
“Ahem.” The polite cough reaches my ears.
Lucian pulls away enough that I can peek around him to see Des sitting in one of the chairs at the table. She’s flicking the window shade up and down, staring at it in an attempt to give us privacy.
“Maybe you two should make use of that bedroom I spotted in the back.”
I swing my head to Lucian, who is already standing.
He holds a hand out to me.
The plane is still gaining altitude, so when I stand my equilibrium is off.
His arms go around my waist, bring my shoulders in contact with his chest.
In a weird dance, we make our way to the small bedroom at the back.
Fall into the bed, and he makes quick work of our clothes.
When he fills me up, the most whole feeling encompasses me.
Yes. Yes. Yes. I’m flying in more ways than one.
It’s a rush.
Chapter 21
Months pass. We fall back into our expected patterns.
Work at night. Three a.m. training or workout sessions. Sometimes together, but more often than not Lucian is doing damage control, locked away in secret sessions with the queen and her advisors.
Kaida is in control of three territories now, and I have a feeling she’s maneuvering to keep it that way.
I’m alone tonight. Most of the vamps in the Queen’s service workout in the early evening hours. On their days off, they’re off doing god knows what.
Why am I even wondering about what vamps do in their off time?
Lucian. That’s why. He doesn’t get off time.
We haven’t even discussed...whatever is going on between us. Has he told Kaida?
I roll my eyes at myself and wrap my left hand with the cotton boxing wraps.
Am I just being a girl? Having to ‘define’ a relationship? Maybe.
I wrap my right with the cotton wrap. Flex my fingers when I’m done to test the tightness.
Maybe I’m also still hurt from Grayson’s rejection. I throw a few combos at the bag.
There’s no maybe about it. I am still hurt about that.
But he’s out of my life. I punch the bag.
Was it wrong to covet my sister’s husband? Maybe. I punch the bag.
Wrong to act on my attraction to him after she left? Maybe. I punch the bag.
Was he a colossal, overbearing, controlling...prick? Yes. I punch the bag.
I can do better. I am doing better. I’ve got my own place, gourmet food whenever I want it, a closet full of clothes, money in a checking AND savings account, and a Ducati monster.
What else does a girl need?
“Yo! Independence.” Peter’s voice has me turning to the gym’s door.
I steady the swinging bag with my hands. “Hey, Pete. What’s up?”
“Boss wants you up in the Queen’s room.”
I wipe the sweat from my brow and pull off my gloves. “He say what he wants?”
“Nope. Just make it quick.”
“Alright. I’ll be there in ten. Just let me clean up a bit first.” I began unwrapping my hand wraps, wondering what the heck Lucian and the Queen could need me for.
I throw a long sleeve tee on over my sports bra. I’d like to have time for a shower and full change, but ten minutes is just enough time to re-swipe some deodorant under my arms and wipe my face.
I take the service elevator, and when I exit in the short hallway, I hear male voices raised. I freeze, so I can assess the situation I’m about to walk into. Sure, call it eavesdropping.
But a girl’s got to take her advantages where she can. A muffled voice from behind the double wood door:
“I asked you to train her. Not seduce her.”
It can’t be. I hold my breath waiting for him to say more so I know for sure.
“And who’s to say the seduction is not part of her training?” Lucian’s reply is more even. I suck in a breath at what I’m hearing.
Lucian and Grayson know each other? Have conversed over me? Have some kind of agreement? And...my seduction is part of a training? I shake my head back and forth trying to comprehend. Trying to navigate the facts. I found Lucian randomly. But. Did I? Their words are implying that my entire time here in New Orleans has been set up. Was I ever totally free?
Did I just exchange one prison for another wrapped in a shiny hotel with unlimited room service?
Lucian the guard, Gray the warden. God. How could I be so stupid?
I flash back to that night I met Lucian. He had never indicated that our meeting was more than chance. Had he? Did I misread the signs?
I slam my palms to open the door, furious at myself for falling for the dupe. And wanting to confront these assholes before I vamoose forever.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Are the words that leave my mouth as I take in the room.
Grayson - dually looking like fashion model and wildman - toe to toe with a dark-suited Lucian. The only thing separating them is the small glass coffee table.
They step apart at the sound of my voice, and behind them Queen Kaida lifts her wine glass to her lips to hide what I can only surmise is a cheeky grin.
“Independence. Please join us.” She indicates the wingback next to her.
“With all due respect, your grace, I’d rather know what the hell is going on here.”
My eyes move from Grayson to Lucian.
Lucian gives the subtlest shake of his head. I can’t determine it’s meaning.
Don’t cause trouble?
He can’t help me?
Frustrated, I move my eyes back to Gray.
His jaw is clenched. His fists are clenched. His eyes barely meeting my own before moving back to Lucian. Obviously he’s pissed.
“Well?” I say into the silence.
“Should I tell her, Luke? Or would you like to?” Kaida’s voice is as smooth as silk. Her smile has disappeared, but she seems patient enough.
State of Independence Page 8
