Infamous: (A Bad Boy Romantic Suspense) (31 page)

The music changed; it became epic and exhilarating, a lot of strings. We spun faster and faster and I realized I wasn’t quite touching the floor anymore. Robert was moving us so quickly it was almost like we were hovering. My loose hair floated around us in a cloud.

“I know I haven’t known you very long, Emma,” Robert said, swirling me around, “but I feel drawn to you. Like I’ve known you forever.”

“You would know more about that than I would,” I said, trying to make light. I wasn’t up for yet another intense conversation. Dimitri’s promise to protect me had already made me feel guilty.

“You’re very good at deflecting,” he said, a little reproachfully. I shrugged.

“This entire situation is causing too much trouble for too many people. I don’t want you or anyone else to get hurt. Not because of me.”

“You’re worth it,” Robert said.

“You’re the second man to say that to me in two days. I don’t like it. It’s too dramatic. I don’t want it coming to anyone having to…I don’t know. Get hurt. Make difficult choices,” I said, unable to say the word “sacrifice” even though I was thinking it. I just didn’t want to.

“We have the right to defend whoever we need to, however we need to do it. You should think more highly of yourself,” he said.

“That’s nice and full of machismo and everything but it’s not about my worth, really. I don’t want to die or get eaten. And I don’t want anyone doing that for me, either. It’s like some horrible novel.” I was trying to sound tough but mostly I was currently feeling tired. And guilty that I was planning on ditching two guys who had just, independently, vowed to protect me with their undead lives. I had a feeling they really would, too. And the idea that I was currently embroiled in something that might actually come to that was appalling.

I pulled away from the dance, stumbling. Robert caught me but I pushed him away.

I sat down on the floor, put my head in my hands, and cried.

I’m not sure how long I sat there, weeping in an ugly, heart-sore, tired, heap. My hands were gently pried away from my face by a kneeling Robert, who kissed the wet palms, then picked me up. I didn’t protest. I was too worn out.

He carried me up some stairs into a bedroom. He lay me down on the bed and undressed me slowly, kissing each spot of my skin as it was revealed. I went from exhausted to warm, flushed, then clutching at him as his lips trailed over my belly.

We didn’t speak.

I let myself give into sensation. My skin was tingling, supremely sensitive to every touch of his hand or mouth. He kissed down my wrists to my palms, then made his way back up to my neck. His teeth grazed the skin but did not bite, and I shuddered, feeling a shock of pleasure.

He stroked my breasts, fingers trailing over their fullness, circling my nipples until they peaked, then putting warm lips to skin and sucking. I felt it lower down, an ache that I knew would build and build.

Robert took his time with my breasts, adoring each one. He cupped them, stroked them. I watched him, staying still, letting each touch torture me as it would. I let myself be loved.

Fingertips on my belly, almost tickling, then kneading. He ran the back of them over the soft swell in a gentle waving motion. Back and forth, back and forth. I wanted them lower but made no attempt to move. I was reveling in being teased like this, the anticipation growing, the heat swelling. Passion is a heady thing, and Robert was stoking it into a roaring flame.

I would never have expected my knees to be sensitive, erotic places, but when Robert touched them with his lips, nipping gently up my thighs, I found a new appreciation for them. He rubbed the back of his hands up my inner thighs, then followed with his mouth, coming just shy of where I most wanted him to kiss.

He pushed my legs apart and I watched his face as he just looked at me, running his fingers along my lower, outer lips. He used light touches, stroking and skipping his fingers along the cleft. I sighed and closed my eyes, letting my legs fall open wide. He made a sound like a low groan and then his mouth was on me.

I was so sensitive that when his tongue darted over my bud I arched, climaxing hard. It was like a dart of pleasure shot through me, peaking, then leaving me shaking and wanting more. And he obliged.

He held my hips and lifted me, keeping his mouth on me, circling slowly with his tongue. The pleasure built again, more slowly this time, and he slipped a finger inside me and gently stroked. He patiently brought me to orgasm again, my body suffused with drowning pleasure.

He parted me and slid himself inside, going slow, letting my body adjust. It wanted him badly, and I bucked my hips to bring him deeper. He rocked into me, pressing deep, and I clutched at his hips. He held me up, angled so that the pressure inside me was intense and concentrated. It held me on the edge until he brought his fingers to my clit again and I yelled, convulsing.

Robert brought me up to face him, still inside me, and we rocked together, fingers touching and exploring. I worked my hips against him, coming again, and then again. I wrapped my arms around his neck and then put my head on his shoulder. I bit it gently as another orgasm hit.

I felt him tense, thrust harder, and I held on as he came, shaking and shuddering himself. He said my name very softly in my ear.

“Thank you,” I said quietly. He stroked my hair, then my face. He kissed me with profound tenderness.

“I could love you, Emma,” he said and I buried my face in his chest. I wasn’t ready to hear that. Or feel it. I didn’t want the responsibility of his love.

He fell asleep soon after that, and I lay there in his arms feeling torn. Torn between him and Dimitri. Torn about my decision to leave them both.

I lay there until my arm was numb and my heart felt cold and sick. Then I got up, slowly, and got dressed. I looked down at Robert, the strong lines and panes of his face. The arched nose, the dark hair, the lashes that were thick and soft with his intense eyes closed. His mouth was sweet in sleep, fuller, and I saw that the lines of care and responsibility around his eyes and mouth had softened. I reached out to touch his cheek, then stopped myself. That would just end with me crawling back into bed and chickening out from doing what I knew I had to do.

As I left the room I looked back one more time, committing to memory the sight of his broad, smooth chest, his strong, serious face, and the gentle look on it while he slept.

I went downstairs to the sitting room and waited for the dawn.

I woke with a start as early daylight filtered in. There were no sounds in the house, and my neck was stiff from sitting up and sleeping. I didn’t feel particularly rested.

Now came the tricky part: getting away without Solosha picking up on it. I hadn’t seen her since she’d escorted me the night before, and I was hoping that everyone had gotten complacent, assuming I’d just be where I was supposed to be. She wouldn’t expect me up or about at this hour.

I collected my things and left, hearing no one stir. The streets were quiet; it was too early for most everyone in the world, it seemed. I didn’t sense Solosha anywhere, but I moved faster anyway, putting as much distance between myself and the house as possible. I chose a direction that wasn’t near either Dimitri’s or Robert’s and headed towards the train station. The sooner I was out of Venice and on my way anywhere else, the better. I hadn’t decided on a location yet; I thought it would be better to decide once I was at the station. I hoped that would make whatever I did less predictable.

My nerves were pretty heightened at that point. I was constantly looking over my shoulder, expecting to see a gray shape coming up behind me every time. Yet I didn’t. Somehow I had managed to slip away from vampires and a sylph. It didn’t occur to me until it was too late that this was awfully convenient.

I walked fast, nearly running, as an increasing sense of something being wrong took over. I couldn’t see or hear anyone, but it just felt as though something was off. It made me feel better to be moving, swiftly, and on my own. Whatever happened from here on out would be my responsibility.

I passed a few people on the streets. No one made eye contact at that hour, too busy sipping large coffees or trying to shake off the remnants of hangovers. No one took any notice of me as I practically ran down streets and through alleys, picking directions at random because I’d once read that it would throw off anyone following you.

And yet the further from Robert’s I went, the stronger the creeping sense of dread became. The more intense the feeling of unease, the more the hairs on the back of my neck seemed to stand up with fear.

Eventually I had to catch my breath, and I stopped at a corner looking out to a street that was just starting to pick up with traffic. It was still quite a bit before 8 a.m. and the lack of sleep was catching up with me in spite of the adrenaline. My heart was pounding and I felt a little dizzy. Cars zipped past and pedestrians strolled along, most looking more put together than those I’d seen earlier, clearly on their way to work. I wondered what it felt like to be doing something totally normal and mundane, something that held no hint of the supernatural or horrific.

I also wondered how many of the people I was looking at might be more than what they seemed. Certainly none of them could be vampires, but plenty of other things could be passing right before my eyes and I’d never be able to tell.

That creeping feeling of something being wrong sounded off in my head like warning bells. It got me moving fast again, hoisting my bag on my back and checking behind me in shop windows as I went. My own reflection looked pale and haunted, with two high points of color on my cheeks from moving so fast. My hair was a bit wild, and all in all I looked exactly like I felt: tired, wired, and a bit on the edge.

I crossed several canals without really looking, then checked my bearings. I was still heading in the general direction of the main station, but I needed to make better time. It was slipping by fast and I wanted to be out of the city by noon. I considered cabbing it, but I had limited cash. Besides, I liked the open air, even if Venice wasn’t the best-smelling city I’d ever encountered.

By this point the streets were filling up with people and I had to navigate crowds. I suspected Solosha or one of Robert’s employees would have figured out I was gone by now, but I might have a little leeway. They were all used to waiting on a vampire, so daytime wasn’t their strength. Which was to my advantage, so I’d better not waste it.

I was moving towards the center of the city but doing so in a bit of a roundabout way. The main station, Santa Lucia, was a big modern affair that was a major hub to the rest of Europe. I could go nearly anywhere from there, and it would take anyone looking for me quite a while to figure out where I’d gone. This is why I’d made sure I had cash—harder to trace. Part of me really wanted to go back to Paris, really see it before getting the hell out of Dodge, but I knew that was the first place anyone would look. There were other options—Munich, Milan, even Zurich. I should probably pick the one furthest from there and hope for the best. After that, my plan was to get to an airport, call my folks, and be back in the States within a few days. Would anyone go that far to find me? Hard to say, but I was beyond homesick and it seemed like my best shot. Even if I couldn’t end up actually going home, the States would be a lot easier for me to navigate on my own. Find work. Make a life.

Finally I could see the station up ahead, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I was going to make it. I stopped to catch my breath and suddenly felt a hand on my arm. I turned, expecting Solosha.

Instead, I saw a tall, excruciatingly thin man with long, spidery limbs and heavy, lanky dark hair. His shape was terrifyingly familiar.

“Hello!” he said cheerfully as I tried to break his grip. It was vicelike and painful.

“Let go of me or you’ll be sorry,” I said. He laughed and pulled me closer.

“I don’t think so. Your two vampire protectors won’t be up for hours. It will be too late for them to do anything by then,” he said.

“They aren’t the ones looking after me,” I said, suddenly wishing I had never left Robert’s house, let alone slipped past Solosha.

“Oh, you mean the sylph? She is…occupied,” he said, a nasty smile on his face. I pulled at the arm, then hit him, then tried to scratch him. It had no effect.

“What did you do to her?” I snarled, afraid I’d gotten her hurt. Or worse.

“See for yourself,” he said, and dragged me down a street that was strangely quiet and empty. I kicked, I yelled, but nothing happened. No one could hear me and I couldn’t break his iron grip.

He pulled me into a doorway and then shoved me inside a rank, dilapidated hallway. It smelled like rotting fish and mold, and I gagged.

When my eyes adjusted to the low light, I gasped, then began to hit at him fiercely.

Solosha lay in a heap on the floor, arms chained, robes ripped and torn. Some kind of iridescent liquid was spilling out of her mouth and onto the floor in a pool. She looked dead, but I didn’t know anything about the life cycle of sylphs. I was angry and scared, but mostly I felt overwhelming guilt. This was my fault.

“No one is going to rescue you. And if you don’t stop that, I’ll hurt you,” he said. His eyes were hard and cold and I believed him. I stopped, mostly because it wasn’t doing any good. I felt helpless and stupid and alone.

“What do you want?” I asked, beginning to shake.

“Oh, it’s not what I want. It’s what my employers want. But you’ll find out,” he said. He pulled me away, and I thought I saw Solosha move a little. I hoped I did. I hoped my kidnapper was a lot more cocky than he was effective. I hoped she would wake up and get free.

He shoved me in front of him and moved me along quickly. I could feel the strange smoothness of his limbs and wanted to recoil but he kept me too close.

“I don’t know what your employer thinks, but I’m really no one. I don’t matter. You could just say you didn’t find me,” I tried. He laughed again, a grating, unpleasant, sneering sound. It was a laugh at my expense.

“I don’t care, is the thing. They pay me, I do what they ask. It’s a very easy, equitable arrangement.” He moved me down the same deserted alley towards a car, and I pulled back, trying to slow him down. It didn’t work. So I moved my hand to my pocket and felt around. There wasn’t anything I could stab him with. Tina’s knife was in my bag on my back, but there was something that might help. Maybe. It was a few petals from the flowers that had been decorating my room at Dimitri’s. I let them fall, hoping somehow, some way, their scent and mine would give them a clue. It was unlikely; they were so fragile and they would probably get stepped on and ruined. But it was something. I had to try.

He shoved me into the car and I sprawled on the seat, banging my head on the opposite door. I tried to see if I could open it but it looked welded shut. Clearly this was a vehicle that had been used in other such “jobs.” That was a sobering thought.

My kidnapper crawled in after me and shut the door, locking it and then sitting against it. He banged on the roof and the car started up, revved, then spun away. We hit a lot of jerking, bumping pavement. I couldn’t see out. I had no idea where we were headed.

“Fortuitous that you decided to try and escape your lovers. I admit, I was finding it difficult to get at you. I would have eventually, but you made it so much easier,” he said, clearly taunting me. My face flushed with guilt.

“You’re the reason I was leaving. I wanted to get away from everyone so no one would be unsafe because of me,” I said, not sure why I was admitting anything to this…thing. In the car he was even more cadaverous looking, with pale skin that had a strange green cast to it. His features were sharp, unpleasant, and his eyes were hard little chips in his lined face. He wore all black, slimly cut, which just emphasized his height and spindly limbs. He almost looked delicate, but I knew better. There was a horrible, wiry strength to him.

“How delightful! You walked right out of safety and into my arms. Dimitri and Robert will be heartbroken, I’m sure.” He said this last derisively, as if it was unlikely anyone would come looking for me or care that I was gone. I smiled at him, but only with my teeth.

“If they find you, they will tear you into little pieces. You don’t know anything about them. Or me. You don’t know what you’ve done,” I said. His smile faded a little.

“I know your vampires quite well, actually. Have for years. Dimitri is a selfish noble who barely warrants worrying about. Robert, though powerful, is more concerned with big problems than what any human, however…appealing to look at…is up to. I can’t fathom why they bothered protecting you to begin with. They had to know someone would find out your little…secret. And come looking for you. I can’t imagine why they’d take on the responsibility.” He was leaning forward now, enjoying himself. I looked at him with loathing.

“If that’s all you think of them, then you don’t know them at all. But I won’t bother trying to convince you. I’ll just enjoy it when they catch up with us and take you apart,” I said.

He was next to me in a flash, gripping my arms tightly, his face close to mine. His eyes were glittering and insectile suddenly, multifaceted and piercing.

“I wouldn’t count on it. And you’ll be long dead before they manage to figure out where you are and who has you.” He shook me a little, clearly angry that I wasn’t playing the frightened, cowardly prey he wanted me to. I kicked him and he grunted. Then he struck me, a hard blow to the face. I reeled back in the seat and clutched at my hurt cheek.

“You’ll be sorry,” I said, angry and scared and feeling like my face was on fire.

“You keep saying that. Maybe it’s comforting. But you’re going to talk to my employers and then…well…” He shrugged.

Then he hit me again, and all I saw was black.

Spiders are everywhere, crawling, jumping, flexing their horrible limbs. I feel their legs on my face, my arms, my legs. I open my mouth to scream and feel them crawl into it.

Teeth again, biting at me.

Then blood. Always blood. Is it mine or someone else’s? A cool breeze against my face, reassuring for a moment, then gone.

Back to blood. I can smell the sour penny scent of it. Can feel it slick against my palms. Am I bleeding?

Everything is so dark, only vague shapes, hulking, spindly, moving too fast with too many legs.

Trapped again. Things are crawling over me, I can hear them chattering and chittering. I think I may go insane from the feel of them moving over my face.

A laugh, hard, brittle, unpleasant.

A voice, deep, frustrated. Another, placating, yet another cheerful. Bright. That one is the worst. That one is the most dangerous.

I’m trying to move away, but my limbs are too heavy. I can’t move. I can feel hands on me now and I try to shove them away. They are pulling me in all directions, pulling at my skin, my hair, my face. I want them away from me and I try to shout again.

But there is no sound. My throat doesn’t work.

I am in hell.

I woke up screaming, hands bound, in a small bed in a small cell-like room. It was too hot and stony, and there was a single barred window that let in a depressing sliver of yellow light. There was also a barred door, and I realized I was definitely in a cell somewhere. But where? I couldn’t get up to the window, and there was nothing about the environment that told me anything—just blank grayness.

I sat up and regretted it. My face still hurt, though it was more of a dull ache now. My stomach was incredibly empty and growled painfully. My whole body ached like I had a flu. My wrists were raw from being bound with what felt like thorned rope.

But mostly how I felt was pissed. Really, really, pissed. I realized it might not have been the best idea to leave the relative safety of Robert or Dimitri’s care, but this wasn’t my fault. I hadn’t made any of this happen. And now I was stuck in what was probably a literal dungeon and I was just over it. I was sick of being at the mercy of others for things I couldn’t help.