Collateral Damage (18 page)

"Everywhere. I travel to find the most extreme climates and spend weeks—

sometimes months exploring. I haven't gone since Alrik joined us, but . . . ." His fingers went still. "Perhaps, when he's old enough . . . ."

This I understood. Before I'd started teaching, I'd used over half my college fund skipping from continent to continent, never staying in one place for long, almost as though I was afraid to grow roots. But then I had to make a choice. Get an education and make something of myself or continue living like a gypsy. I'd worked a few odd jobs in Europe, but nothing appealing until a patron at a bar I'd waitressed at in Switzerland hired me to teach his daughter English.

After he packed her up and moved to Canada, I decided to return home and go back to school. Living with my mother gave me all the motivation I needed to get my degree—I was finally desperate for a place of my own.

Once I had one, once I started working at the daycare . . . well, I
had
to stay. I was afraid if I left again, I wouldn't come back. I had enough money saved up to go pretty far, but the children needed me.

And none of them had ever needed me as much as Alrik did. Which Cyrus knew.

This was why he'd let us go out tonight. Neither of us would even consider leaving Alrik behind.

But maybe I could do something he wouldn't expect.

I grabbed another hors d'oeuvre and stuffed it in my mouth. Then, I gave a little wiggle. Washing the crumbs down with the rest of my brandy, I groaned and held up a finger. "I have to go to the ladies room. I won't be long."

There may have been a glint of suspicion in Vince's eyes, but I kept my mind focused on my bladder. All the way to the ladies room and past it. I circled the restaurant, skirting by a group of men in suits being led to a reserved area. Then I bolted out the door.

Near the entrance stood a group of people in their mid-twenties smoking. I approached them and cleared my throat. "Excuse me, does anyone have a pen?"

"Sure, cutie." A slender man with thick glasses and a crooked grin fished in his pocket and handed me a pen. His magnified eyes swept over me. "You here alone?"

Rolling my eyes, I leaned close to him. "No. I'm here with my mother. She left her pills in the car. And her med booklet at home. I want to jot down the time so she doesn't forget what time she took her Vicodin."

He winked. "Ah. Gotcha."

"Just give me a sec." I felt his gaze on my back as I crossed the parking lot. As soon as I got to the Lincoln, I glanced back. One of his friends had his attention. I quickly wrote the license plate number on the inside of my wrist and then hurried back.

"Here you go. Thanks."

Taking the pen, he smiled. "Sure . . . ." His smile faltered. "Did you forget the—?"

"See you." I tossed the words to him before darting back inside. I went straight to the little booth just past the entryway. Caught the hostess' attention. "May I use the phone? It's an emergency."

"Of course, ma'am." She picked up a tiny, cordless phone and looked at me expectantly. "The number?"

I held out my hand. "I can—"

"That won't be necessary." A hand closed like a shackle around my wrist. Vince tugged me to his side and gave the hostess a charming smile. "Please excuse my wife.

This is the first time we're leaving the baby alone."

"I completely understand." The hostess gave me a sympathetic look. "Until my Bobbie turned ten, I'd call to check on him three times every date night. You'll enjoy the rest of the evening much more if you let her check in, sir."

"Actually, I'm thinking we should head home early." Vince squeezed my wrist, his expression that of the loving husband and father he pretended to be. "You're right, love, we hardly know the girl, and it's impossible to tell if we can really trust her."

"Yes." I said, fluttering my eyelashes to stem the tears that wanted to fall. "That's a good idea."

He didn't speak until we were back in the car. And only when I opened my mouth to try to explain.

"Don't bother. I expected you to use this opportunity—just not so soon. My own fault for believing your interest was genuine."

"My interest
is
genuine. But I need to get Alrik out of there." I dug my nails into my palms, not sure why I was telling him this, but unable to stop. "You're a good man, Vince, I truly believe that. You want what's best for him, and so do I. We can't let Cyrus trap him like he's trapped you."

"I am not trapped. I am
free
to come and go as I choose."

"Not anymore." I put my hand over his on the steering wheel, staring at the side of his face, looking for any sign that I was getting through to him. "Cyrus is using Alrik to keep you coming back. He'll do the same to Alrik when he's old enough to want his freedom. There will be another child and another woman. You've shown Cyrus how effective his methods are."

"There are worse things out there than Cyrus and our kind, Nicole. He's made me a predator rather than prey. He will do the same for Alrik." Vince glanced at me and shook his head. "For you to understand, you must stop pretending I am just a man. See me for what I am."

"And what's that?"

The car jerked. He pulled over to the side of the road on an empty street and then reached over to slide his hand around my neck. "You're an intelligent woman. Figure it out."

The golden glow of his eyes reflected off the windshield and the gleaming black dashboard. He opened his mouth wide, letting me see his fangs before he struck like a snake, burying them in my flesh. The hot flow of my blood spilled over his tongue. I pushed at his arm, tears blinding as sharp pain tore at me. The last time he'd done this, there had been pleasure. So much pleasure that afterward I'd been able to delude myself into believing everything but the truth. Now I understood what he meant by predator and prey. I was prey. Too weak to stop him. Too weak to do anything but go slack and pray he didn't kill me.

His tongue glided over open flesh, and I swore I could
feel
it knit together. He left his arm around my shoulders and drove one-handed.

"I still have to punish you—you know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know that." I tried to worm away from him, but his hand on my shoulder kept me from getting far. "So what this time? The belt again? I've got to say, it's practical."

"Practical." He let out a rough laugh. "Yes, I suppose it is. I'd love to take a cane to your ass, but I'd rather you associate punishment with one tool. You enjoy pain so much, I don't want to ruin it for you."

"I do
not
enjoy pain."

"Don't lie to yourself." He pulled into a circular driveway in front of a big, fancy hotel. "We have our butterfly. And, however it's marked on your flesh, you find pleasure in it."

"You're a fucking whack job." I opened my door and did my best to become invisible to the valet who took the keys from Vince. I didn't speak again until we waited for the elevator off the lobby. "Worse than Cyrus. At least that bastard doesn't try to hide the fact that he's a sociopath."

Vince gave me a pleasant smile, hooked my arm to his, and towed me around the huge fountain that took up most of the white marble floor. I gazed up at the silver dancers, either singing or screaming, beneath the waterfall that parted over them like a curtain. Blank, metal eyes were open wide. I decided they were screaming.

"Here's your key card, Mr. Frey." The receptionist was saying. "Please let us know if you need anything."

"I will." Vince tucked me close to his side and drew me away from the desk.

"Keep your head down, pet. One glimpse at your face will have people believing I plan to hurt you."

I swallowed and bowed my head. "Don't you?"

"Yes, love." He pressed the button to call the elevator, inclining his head at an elderly man who passed. Then he spoke, voice low, lips hardly moving. "Worse than I ever have before."

Chapter Sixteen

A honeymoon suite, complete with puffy, blood red hearts sprouting from the cherry wood headboard and rose petals scattered on the white bedspread. Creamy, lace curtains framed the bed and brought out the rich color of the wood paneling on the walls. Homey with a few romantic touches.

This didn't seem like something Cyrus would choose. It lacked extravagance. The taint of overindulgence. The
subtle
hint that this was a "reward."

"You picked the room, didn't you?" I hugged myself, keeping my back to Vince as he shut the door. "This feels like . . . like
you."

"Does it?" His tone was cold. Emotionless. Whatever had prompted him to select a room that fit
us
so perfectly was gone. I heard his belt slide from his pants. "I'm thrilled that you approve."

"I can tell."

"Bend over the bed, Nicole. Once the unpleasantness is behind us, perhaps we can enjoy the rest of our evening." He pressed lightly between my shoulder blades, his fingers tangling in my loose hair. "I will fold the belt, but I will not stop until I feel you truly understand—"

"No." I spun away from him and slipped around the corner of the bed. "Make me understand now. Every other time you've punished me, I've seen the reason behind it, to some degree, whether I agreed with it or not. This time, I don't."

He slapped his thigh with the belt, and his eyes narrowed to slits. "Your deception isn't reason enough?"

"No!" I slammed my fist on the bed. "I was only doing what you don't have the guts to! We both know Alrik doesn't belong there! I won't accept a punishment for trying to save him!"

Another, harder slap. "I could force you."

"Then go ahead." I held out my arms, inviting him to do just that. "Beat my ass black and blue if it gets your rocks off. I can't stop you. But I will not submit. Not to this.

And not to you when you're not the man I gave my trust to."

"What about my trust? You played me for a fool." His lips tightened, and he took a step forward. "That I expected as much changes nothing. You know the rules."

"The rules?" I laughed and plopped down on the bed. "The ones you apparently make up as you go along? Sorry, but I've been very straightforward about where I stand. And that's with Alrik. I thought you felt the same, but I was wrong."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" He tossed the belt aside and grabbed my arm. "Everything I do is for him. And you."

"You could have fooled me." I flattened my hand against his chest as he pulled me close. "I know, Vince. Cyrus told me Tobi and Steve were eliminated before you cut me. You continued for
you
."

"No." His grip on my arm loosened a little. He bowed his head. "I did that for
you
. Cyrus didn't want me to be with you—he said it would give you an unfair advantage. But I refused to let another touch you. Not there. Not your first time in the arena. I knew you were the strongest of the three, but it wasn't just about winning."

I'd stopped trying to pull away. "It wasn't?"

"The audience must be entertained. I did what was necessary to make sure they were." He released my arm and cupped my cheek. "They were enthralled by you and your reaction to me. I made you a celebrity. They will clamor for another show. Which gives you value. Cyrus won't kill you when he gets bored with you because you're a commodity."

"Because of you." My stomach clenched around a pit of acid. What had he done?

"You've made yourself a commodity as well."

"Yes, well . . . ." He shrugged. "That's neither here nor there. I wouldn't enjoy watching you perform with another man."

"Not that you'll have a choice."

His jaw ticked. "There is that."

"And you want this life for Alrik?"

He pulled away from me then. Physically. Emotionally. Across the room, hands braced on the TV stand, he bowed his shoulders as though preparing for a blow.

"I don't want this for him. Any of it. All I want is to give him the best of the world I know, to protect him from the lessons I had to learn . . . ." His voice hitched.

"Don't ask more than that from me. Not tonight. I don't have it in me to give."

"It's a start." I went to him them and smoothed my hands over his back, curling them around his broad shoulders. "So, do you still want to punish me?"

Turning to pull me against him, he shook his head and buried his face in my hair. "I won't punish you, even though I should. You endangered yourself with your impulsiveness. I won't tolerate that again. But you will have to guard your thoughts carefully. If Cyrus learns of what you tried to do . . . ."

I nodded, fully aware of the consequences. Death or worse. But it was worth it just to know I'd made the effort. "Can't you erase it somehow? Don't you have the power?"

"To shield your mind from Cyrus? I wish." He let out a bitter laugh. "I couldn't even stop him from taking you. And I wanted to. More than you could possibly—"

"Don't say that." I gave his chest a little smack. "You have no idea how much I wish I could have resisted when he and Darryl . . . I feel dirty just knowing they—"

"You shouldn't—feel dirty I mean. You might as well have been drugged." He tucked my hair behind my ears and kissed my cheeks. "None of it was your fault."

His words—drugged, fault—made me think of another time. "If I was strong enough—smart enough—I could have fought."

"And you would have died." He pressed his palms into both my cheeks. "Or worse. I'm not your mother, Nicole. I'm not looking for a way to blame you."

"So, what now?" I eyed the bed and suddenly didn't want to go anywhere near it.

Even though Vince had chosen the room, I still felt Cyrus, looming over us, dictating the night as he did everything else. "Do we—?"

"Not here." He eyed the bed, and his brow creased. "Not like this. You haven't eaten enough and neither have I." After drawing me to the bed, he made me sit down.

Then he brought me a menu. "From what I hear, the food here is excellent. I want you to eat and drink and then join me in that great, big hot tub."

"All right." I pressed my tongue between my teeth as I scanned the menu. "And while I order, you can raid the minibar."