Relish: A Vicious Feast Book 2 (24 page)

I almost didn’t catch what she was saying. I got the gist of it when Luka gave her a brief summary of the concert and the new song they premiered. Damn! I really did miss out on hearing it at the green room while I wallowed over Breathe.

Trapped in my stewing jealousy, I failed to notice something Luka said until it got really quiet all of a sudden. I blinked then looked down at Gwen’s out-stretched hand. The teasing in Luka’s sharp eyes deflated my rising anger. He was enjoying my jealousy way too much. No need to inflate his ego even further. I quickly took her callused hand in mine and forced a smile.

“It’s nice to meet you, Dakota.” The openness of her expression and the way she said my name, dah-ko-tah, flushed away the rest of my negative emotions.

“I’m hungry,” Luka said before I could respond to Gwen’s salutations. I scowled at him. He had the gall to wink at me.

“You’re usual table then?” She sashayed away, oblivious to the murder in my glare at the man beside me.

He snaked his arm around my waist and tucked me to his side. As we followed Gwen into the cozy dark wood interior of the place, he whispered, “I love it when you get jealous.”

Steam must be rising from the top of my head because of yet another blush. I pinched his side only to be met with unyielding muscle. My mouth watered. Was it too late to say yes to going back to the hotel? Ugh! This man both infuriated and excited me in equal measure.

Like at Lunar Manor, Luka pulled out a chair for me at the table nestled at a warm corner of the pub surrounded by magnificent stained glass windows. The wood gleamed around us, set off by soft lighting coming from an iron chandelier. All the other tables were full when I sat down and got a chance to look around. The space wasn’t big at all, giving the place a hearty atmosphere. There was a kind of magic to the pub that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

Letting Luka do the ordering, I lifted my camera and took pictures of the massive bar that took up half the floor area, the beautiful depictions of couples in amorous embraces in glass on the windows, and the rest of the space in general. One table featured a group of men already deep into their Guinness judging from the number of empty pints on their table. Another featured a couple busily feeding each other. I quickly reminded myself I would rather die than do that with Luka. Imagining him feeding me with a fork sent the wrong kind of shivers down my spine. It was way too mushy for me.

My ears perked up when the words “Green Beer” left Luka’s lips. I lowered my camera and shook my head at Gwen. “I’m not drinking tonight, thank you.”

“We can make it out of Ginger Ale if you prefer.”

I nodded my thanks. She finished jotting down our orders and sauntered away. Luka shrugged out of his jacket and leaned back, taking in the place.

“I miss coming here,” he said wistfully.

“Oh yeah?” I snapped a picture and stowed my camera away. “Why?”

His gaze lingered on the bar where a man with burly arms filled pints with the darkest Guinness I’d ever seen. Darker than the ones I’d had at Canary Warf. “I worked here for a summer way, way back.”

Memories of him serving us at the café near campus came back to me. I was supposed to meet Yana that morning to sign my non-disclosure agreement. Luka came instead. In fact, he bought out the place for the entire time we were there. Back then he looked so at home filling mugs with coffee and taking pastries from the display case.

“So you and Gwen…” The words fell out of my mouth without my really thinking of the possible consequences.

He chuckled. “No. Gwen is actually married to that brute behind the bar. They own this place and when I took it upon myself to travel the world alone, they took me in for a couple of months. I learned a lot from them. Gwen is like a mother to me.”

“Well, why don’t I just stick my foot in my mouth and call it a night?” I crossed my arms and huffed.

His chuckles turned into full-blown laughter. The drunk guys at the other table laughed too, drowning out Luka. “You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

I wanted to throw something at him. “So,” I said threateningly, “what did you order for us?” If he gave the wrong answer and ordered something I couldn’t eat then cutlery would fly.

That delectable bolt on his eyebrow went up. “Steak and Guinness Pie, of course. Then Irish Coffee and Guinness Cake for dessert.”

My annoyance at being called cute turned into a groan at the mention of Guinness. “You’re really trying to get me drunk, aren’t you? Just admit it.”

“Besides the Irish Coffee, the alcohol is burned away in the cooking process. You won’t get more than a buzz, I promise.”

“Way to kill the mood by being all matter-of-fact on me, Romeo.”

As if accepting the challenge in my tone, he reached across the table and took my hand. He brought my fingertips to his lips. When he spoke again, they rubbed against my skin. The contact sent ripples of pleasure all over my body. If I had any doubts of his desire for me, the heat in his eyes banished them.

“I’m here with you. I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

Okay, mushy…but I let it happen anyway. The way he spoke, all sexy-quiet like that, heated my insides to melting. Ugh, I was so weak against him. I squeezed the hand holding mine and allowed myself to relax. He did the same by leaning back again.

Gwen brought two heaping plates of her famous—according to Luka—Steak and Guinness Pie and what looked like gallon-sized pints of what Luka called green beer. Mine green ginger ale.

“Enjoy,” she said jovially and left us to our dinner.

I hated to admit it, Gwen was growing on me. I expected stories about Luka working here or her grilling me with questions. She actually gave us room to breathe.

I hadn’t realized I’d spoken my opinion until Luka said, “Gwen’s really big on minding her own business. But I think it’s killing her not to say anything.”

I glanced back at the red-head he considered a second mother, “Why do you think so?”

“Because you’re the first girl I ever brought here.”

“Not even Phoenix?” God, me and my stupid mouth.

He eyed me for a second. I expected him to tense, and was silently thankful when he remained relaxed. “No, not even Phoenix.”

“Boy, am I feeling special.”

“Because you are.”

My fork dropped just as I was bringing a chunk of beef into my mouth. “Okay, will you quit it with the romance?”

“Why?” His own fork paused inches from his face. “Isn’t that what a date is? Romancing the other person?”

I shook my head. Maybe a little too hard because my hair slapped against my cheeks. “A date is so you can get to know the other person.”

“Alright.” Just like that. On so many levels it scared me just how much Luka got me. The beef finally made it into his mouth and he closed his eyes, humming. “Mmm. This is
so
good.”

Amazed by his reaction, I brought my fork back up and tasted the steak. The meat was so tender it practically melted in my mouth. The stew was thick with the taste of onions and rosemary and thyme. I hummed right along with him when my tongue recognized the robustness of the Guinness. He was right, dammit! The alcohol was gone, but the flavor remained. 

For the next fifteen minutes, no one spoke. We forgot about getting to know each other, all our attention on the flaky pastry that made up the pie portion of the dish and the buttered carrots and peas. I’d never eaten anything so rich and filling, yet I managed to finish my entire plate.

Luka showed me what he liked to do with the rest of the stew. He broke off a piece of sour bread from the basket Gwen brought over and used it to wipe the plate clean. I did the same and almost died from ecstasy.

“Phew!” I rubbed my belly. “No wonder you make it a point to come here when you can.”

“Not regretting going back to the hotel instead?” He took a long draught of his beer.

“Not at all.” I licked my bottom lip, wishing for more of the stew but knowing my stomach couldn’t hold much more. “Last time I ate this good was at Lunar Manor. Man, I miss that place.”

“What do you miss about it?”

“How much it reminded me of Downtown Abbey.”

“Downtown…” He grinned. “Do you mean Downton Abbey?”

“Yeah, the show, right?” I said over Gwen swapping our empty plates for a single serving of Guinness Cake and two glasses of Irish Coffee with whipped cream on top. I didn’t think I could eat any more, but the smell of the cake won me over. Chocolate and Guinness, a heady combination.

“I take it you haven’t watched the show,” he said, picking up a dessert fork and taking a pinch of the cake. I expected him to place it into his mouth only to have him hover the tip of the fork in front of my lips. Was he seriously going to feed me the cake? Like the couple on a date now necking at their table?

The earnest way he offered the morsel broke my resolve. Oh, what the hell? I rolled my eye and sampled the cake. Oh lord, the rich chocolate mixed with the beer? Add to that the gooey icing sprinkled with crushed cashews. If I thought the pie was heaven, this was nirvana.

I covered my mouth with my hand as I spoke and chewed at the same time, “Silvia loves that show. Do you mean I’ve been calling it Downtown Abbey all this time and she didn’t bother to correct me?”

Luka took a bite of the cake and nodded.

“I’m so going to kill her,” I mumbled into my Irish Coffee. I groaned again, forgetting my murderous thoughts when hints of Kahlua and Irish Cream danced on my palate. “I think I’m having an orgasm.”

“Don’t,” he said with so much heat it shocked me.

“Why?”

“Save it. For me. Later.”

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-S
EVEN
F
IRE

Snap
.
Pop
.
Sizzle
. I burn. Not my body. I lost control of it what seems like ages ago. My consciousness burns, and I scream.
Snap
.
Pop
.
Crackle
. The flames consume me completely, binding me to unending agony. It forces me to watch what the creature does to my body.

It runs, even if we both know it will not survive out in the wood. I grew up in this enchanted forest. I know where I need to go to escape the monsters that dwell within its green walls. The creature does not realize this. So it keeps me in the pyre it set ablaze.

My pain is twofold. The first being the violation of my body. The helplessness seeps deep inside and refuses to let go, damaging my psyche. The second is the spell used to counter mine. Not only does it protect from counterattacks, it leeches the last of my strength. I grow heavy in my detached state, no longer floating in place. The two holes I watch the outside world from grow farther and farther away the more the flames eat me.

To struggle is useless. I know this. There is no point in thinking of the should haves or what ifs. Like opening a clenched fist, I surrender. My body stumbles. The air in my body’s lungs explodes.

Suddenly, the man giving chase is on top, the dagger the old woman was holding in his hand. He raises the blade and plunges it deep into my abdomen. Wailing. Not mine. The creature’s. Soon, I tell myself, soon I will be free.

With each plunge of the blade, the man recites the chant the women sang into the night. My body stops thrashing. My back is soaked with what I assume is my blood. I welcome the strikes knowing it will rid me of this monster.

Maniacal laughter reaches me. At first I think it’s the creature, having found a way to fight back. But that can’t be since the blade was specifically designed to kill it. Then I realize the laughter is coming from me, a ghoulish revelry. I feel my possessor shrink away from the sound. I take power in its cowardice.

That’s it
, I form the words.

You will die if I die
, it counters. The flames recede with its weakening.

I sneer, pushing at the presence invading my mental space.
You think I’m afraid of death?
I laugh again. My consciousness becomes one with my body again, merging me with the physical pain the blade has wrought. Just a little more, I remind myself. Just a little more.

The man uses his other hand to widen my left eye. Then he positions the blade above it. The eyeball stings when blood drops inside.
Do it
, I will the words to the man, too weak to actually speak them.

The creature lets out one last baleful shriek as the blade descends.

I bolted upright, clawing at the warm sheets covering me. The worst of my dreams yet, and this time no Luka dream buffered the excess emotions. What the hell was happening to me? What were my dreams trying to tell me? My mouth opened to let out the horror inside my chest. As my throat contracted, a calloused hand covered my lips. Despite the muffling, I cried out anyway. My chest vibrated from the sheer force of it. With every inhalation through my nose, I wailed into the hand cupping my face.

My body shook so badly, the bed seemed to vibrate with me. An arm wrapped around my waist, lifting me until I landed between two long legs. I let go of the sheets and transferred my fingers to clutch at the fabric covering the thighs caging me in. A grunt followed. I didn’t care; too busy screaming into the hand.   

The arm around my waist tightened, plastering my back against the hard wall of a chest. I shuddered. Goose bumps rose on every exposed surface of my skin. Lips touched the curve of my ear.

“I’m here,” someone whispered. “I’m right here.”

My throat strained, turning my breathing ragged. Cold air sent jagged spikes down the sensitive inside of my neck. Numbness took over my fists. I no longer felt the soft cloth within my palms.

The lips on my ear slid down the straining chords of my neck. My breath hitched. The second teeth grazed the rapid pulse at the base, I moaned. The tension caused by blind panic shifted to a different kind of strain, one that left me panting. My heart, which I hadn’t felt beating since waking up, thundered inside my chest.

As if feeling my body relax, the deliciously hot lips left my neck. The hard chest eased from my back. The hand on my mouth fell away. Unwilling to relinquish the contact, I let go of the sweatpants I’d been white-knuckling and faced the guy who rode out my fear with me.