Sweet Temptation (16 page)

I should let her go, but I'm shaken.

“Wait,” I shout.

She doesn't stop. My pulse rockets into overtime. I push past people and run forward, wrapping my hand around her tiny wrist and spinning her to face me.

Fuck!
How can she turn away like that? I yank her closer,
fully aware I'm acting like an absolute psycho, but I'm too weak to do what needs to be done. She is mine. Doesn't she know that? Because my body and soul are screaming it—demanding me to make her mine in every way.

Her eyes stare up at me with a mix of fear and hope, reminding me what an arsewipe I am to keep doing this to her. Once again, I've royally screwed everything up. I need to let her go, but instead I find myself touching her face with a stupid paw, cursing the costume for getting in the way of feeling her soft skin, cursing her green paint for hiding her face from me.

With a furry thumb I wipe the paint from above her lip and she yanks back.

“What are you doing?”

“I . . .” There it is. The perfectly round brown dot, at once innocent and sexy. “I wanted to see your freckle.”

The inside of my costume is a sauna at this point. I want more than anything to kiss her. One last taste.

Don't do it, you evil bastard. Don't make it harder on her. Just push her away.

“What do you want from me, Kai?” she whispers.

Isn't it obvious? I want everything. Why can't I control these feelings? And why should I have to? It all fills me with a raging fury of injustice. I grip her tighter.

“For starters?” I growl. “I want to introduce myself to every freckle on your body.”

I feel her tremble in my hands, sending my body to its boiling point in the ape suit.

“So, just something physical, then? That's all you want?”

I hate myself for my inability to let her go. If I can't push her away, maybe I can force her to push me.

“Tell me you hate me.” It would be so much easier if she did.

“But I don't hate you. I couldn't.”

Her breath smells like bubble gum. Everything about her is too sweet for me.

“You could,” I assure her, pulling her tighter. “And you should.”

She's fighting tears when she says, “I'm letting you go, but only because I have to. I need to move on with my life, but I'll never hate you.”

Yes. Let me go. Move on. Then maybe I can do the same.

I force myself to open my hands and let her go. She stumbles back, shooting me one last heartbreaking, wide-eyed stare. And then just like at the airport, she turns from me and walks abruptly away, her matted blond hair falling against her shoulders. And just like before, she doesn't turn back.

I roughly yank the gorilla head over my face. It smells as sour as I feel.

Damn the Maker and the Deceiver. Damn them all.

“I really miss your hair in my face

And the way your innocence tastes.”

—“Better Than Me” by Hinder

W
e've been good. We've stayed away from each other since Halloween—two months exactly. But still, we are not safe. Always, threats lurk, and this one snuck up.

All the fear I've known since meeting Anna seven months ago has led to this night. She is under suspicion. I could have helped her avoid this fate. I could have put aside my own selfishness and properly trained her during our road trip. But I didn't. Instead, I've played games, pushing her away and reeling her back in for the past seven months. And now she's forced to go against her personal morals to save her life.

Honestly, I don't know if she can pull it off. The other Neph and I have given her as much information and advice as
we possibly can. We'll be at her side tonight, each of us working, but she has to do her part on her own. I'm more nervous for her than I've ever been for myself.

“You all right there, babe?” Marna asks, leaning up from the backseat. My knuckles are white, and I force myself to loosen my grip on the wheel.

“Yeah,” I say. “Fine.”

Blake claps my shoulder from the passenger seat. “We got this, brah.”

“Just don't do anything stupid,” Ginger mutters at me from the back, where she's applying another coat of eye shadow. “Like that bloody awful haircut.”

I ignore her, running my hand over the buzz cut I gave myself while wasted on eggnog.

“I like it,” Marna says. “It's cute. He looks a bit like a criminal.”

Blake turns in his seat. “Criminals are
cute
? Dude, whatev. Girls are weird.” At this, Marna giggles.

I catch Kopano's eye in the rearview mirror. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time, hanging with the lot of us here in Atlanta for holiday break when Father and the other U.S. Dukes met at my house and called us all together, suggesting we work together as a group this New Year's Eve for maximum damage to the humans. We didn't know at the time Anna was under suspicion. Thankfully Belial tipped her off. She'll most likely be tailed by whisperers all night, who will report back to the Dukes about whether or not she's a suitable worker. Her life depends upon being a bad girl tonight.

Kope will be working for the first time since he was fifteen,
and I know he's doing it for our sakes. For Anna's sake. I'm grateful.

We park at the hotel and I chug from my flask before I get out. I straighten my tie as we walk, and feel the heavy slap of my wallet's chain against my thigh. I try to concentrate on these small details so as not to freak the hell out. Thankfully no whisperers are in sight. Yet.

It takes me half a second to find Anna when we walk into the darkened ballroom. She's dancing with that Veronica chick, in true Anna fashion, as if this were an ordinary party and not a test in which her life is the prize.

My worries are momentarily sidetracked as I watch the way her body moves with fluid grace—the way her arse shakes in perfect time to the beat. I reach down to adjust myself through my trousers, and Ginger huffs next to me, mumbling, “Oh, gawd.”

Whatever.

Anna is smiling and fanning herself when the song ends. And then she sees me and stops. I want to go to her and remind her of everything we told her about dealing with the whisperers. I want to shield her and protect her and take this burden from her, but she's got to do this on her own. I cannot be a distraction, so I will make myself scarce; however, I'll be listening and watching when I can.

It doesn't take long for the whisperers to show—two of them—and they stalk her like the creepers they are. I want to tell them to back off and give her room to breathe. She's completely rigid when they first take to her, but to my surprise she heads straight for the bar and shakes off the
stiffness with determination.

Knowing she's okay for now, I find a brunette in an emerald dress to talk to in a corner where I can see Anna from across the room. I manage to keep up a conversation, answering, nodding, even making the girl laugh, but she's only got a small portion of my attention.

I'm more than a little proud of the way Anna handles herself at the bar, but I'm worried her friend Veronica is going to be an issue. I think she's together with Jay, and . . . oh, fantastic. Marna has him in her sights. What is she thinking? She should not be working on Anna's friend and causing unnecessary drama for her to deal with when she's trying to bloody concentrate! The moment Marna breaks away, I excuse myself and head over to her.

I catch Marna near the poker tables. “What are you doing? Not Jay, okay? Leave him be so Anna can focus.”

Her eyes are sad and she whispers, “Sorry.” Ah, shite. I think her play for Jay was less about work and more about her possibly fancying him.

Ginger marches up, frowning at me. “She's got nothing to be sorry for. She's working the way
you
should be. Come on, Marn.”

She takes her sister by the elbow, and Marna casts an apologetic glance over her shoulder at me before they walk through the room, making eyes at all the guys who're coupled up. I shake my head and catch sight of Kope at a poker table. The blokes he's with are all edgy, their auras stirring with gray. We give each other a nod.

I grab two wines from the bar and head back to the girl in
the emerald dress. I don't care for wine, but she's a chardonnay type, so I suck it up. Anna finally finishes with the Veronica/Jay drama and is making her way to the bar again. She's only got one whisperer flanking her now. I duck behind someone when Anna's eyes move in my direction.

Loud chaos ensues and suddenly people jump up, running to see. I stretch my hearing and nod to myself when I realize what's happening.

“What's going on over there?” asks the girl I'm with.

“Fight at the poker table,” I say. She stands and shifts side to side, trying to catch a glimpse.

The room's energy zings and auras are fading as more alcohol is consumed, along with other drugs. The music gets louder. The brunette finishes her drink and eyes mine.

I push it toward her with a grin and she smiles up at me, running her pearl necklace back and forth between her fingers. The last thing I want to do is talk to a girl right now. I can scarcely concentrate, but with whisperers about, I can't afford to stand here and watch Anna all night.

When I glance toward the bar again, I can't quite believe what I see. Anna is quite the little entertainer, working the bar crowd and throwing back shot after shot. I hope she still knows her limits.

“You seem distracted,” says the brunette as she sips my chardonnay.

“Sorry, luv,” I say. “I'm here with my cousin and she's quite the lush. Just trying to keep an eye on her.”

“Aw, that's so sweet.” She gets off her stool and moves closer to where I sit, fitting my knee between her legs. My arm
goes around her back automatically, and I fight to keep my eye on her instead of turning to the bar again. Especially as people whoop and cheer.

“I had to break up with my boyfriend last week, because he cheated on me. Now I just want to have fun.”

“That right?” I ask. Declarations like that used to make me rejoice. Her hand rubs my shoulder, and she angles slightly sideways. She's way tipsy.

Hollers blast from the bar area, and the brunette peers over my shoulder. “Uh-oh. Is one of those your cousin?”

I turn. Anna, Marna, and two other sauced girls have climbed onto the bar and are dancing. The whisperer is going crazy, dancing its own nasty jig all over the patrons. The bartenders stand almost directly under them, staring up their dresses, pretending to be there to catch them, no doubt. The wankers.

“Yeah,” I say absently. “The, uh, brown-haired one on the end.” Marna.

“Aw, they're just having fun,” says the girl. “Don't worry about her. She's fine.” The girl begins to nuzzle my neck, and two other immaculately coiffed girls approach.

“Tasha, we're going up to do a line. Wanna come?” They look me up and down approvingly. “He can come, too.”

Tasha, the brunette in emerald, looks at me. “Come with?”

“I can't.” I nod toward Marna, thankful to have an excuse.

She shakes her head at her friends. “I'm staying with Kaidan.”

They give her knowing smiles and leave us. Damn. I was hoping she'd go, too. She slinks over to face me.

“You know,” she says, “we could go to my room. Your cousin's a big girl. She'll be okay.”

“Er . . .” I look over. Bloody hell, Anna is so sexy in that little dress, completely letting loose.

I feel someone staring at me and catch Ginger at a table with a guy. She's frowning at me and throws her thumb over her shoulder, telling me to take the girl to her room. I narrow my eyes to tell her to shut up.

The brunette runs a finger along my jaw, leaning forward as if to kiss me, and I have a moment of paranoia that Anna will see. The whisperer is in sight, and more could show at any moment, so I can't very well ignore Tasha's advances, but there's no way I'm going far from Anna.

“Come on.” I take the girl by the hand and lead her from the ballroom, going the long way around to avoid the bar, where the girls are being helped down. I'm just going to snog her to pass the time and make it seem as if I'm working toward more. No offense to Tasha, but I'm ditching her the first moment I know Anna's safe and we can go.

My emerald-wearing brunette turns out to be drunker and randier than I thought. The moment we're out of the ballroom she flings her arms heavily over my shoulders and goes up on her toes to smash her mouth against mine. People walking past us in the hall snigger and one guy yells, “Get a room!” I flick him off behind Tasha's back, and the group laughs.

I can't unhook her from around my neck, so we sort of swerve and stumble our way to the empty supply hall near the bathrooms. I shove my hearing back into the ballroom while experiencing the wettest kiss of my life. Before I can find
Anna's voice in the mass, I feel a prickle on my neck and the space around us darkens.

A hair-raising cackle sounds in my mind, cutting off my extended hearing, and I nearly flinch. A whisperer is on us.

“Oh, God, yes,” says Tasha as the demon whispers in her ear, shoving away her guardian angel, who fights against it.

Time to work.

I kiss her back now for real, taking control of the show and putting that sloppy mess to rest as I push her back against the wall. She moans and lets her head fall back into my hand. She grabs my lower back and pulls my hips flush against hers. After a minute I think the whisperer leaves, but I can't stop to look.

Tasha hikes her leg, and I grab it, feeling the dress rise. Her hands are pulling out my shirt and finding their way to my bare back, where her nails dig in. My hand slides higher until it's under her dress and she's going wild.

My body works, but my mind is not in this hall. I go still at the sounds of familiar voices nearby. My head jerks around. No whisperers in sight, but I see the back of Ginger.

“What's wrong?” slurs Tasha.

“I think I hear my cousin,” I whisper, still not moving.

She groans with disappointment.

Their voices are clear.

“Stop. That's not fair,” says Anna.

“Fair,” snorts Gin. “You're no better than the rest of us.”

“I never thought I was.”

My heart goes still. Of course Ginger would be a complete cow to Anna. I drop the girl's leg.

“I'm so sorry,” I say, tucking in my shirt. “I've got to take care of something.” Oh no, I think Anna's running to the loo to be sick. Tasha tips to the side and I right her. “Perhaps we should ring your mates, yeah?”

“Wait . . . you're leaving?”

“I have to go.” I don't feel too bad leaving her, since she's staying in the hotel. I'm sure she'll find her way. But just in case I pull her mobile from her small purse and put it directly in her hand. “Call your friends.”

She nods. Then hollers at my back, “Wait, what's your number? We can hang out later!” But I don't turn back.

In the hall I shove past Ginger and she shouts, “Hey! You can't go in there.”

I turn on her. “Stop trying to police the lot of us!”

She glowers. “What the hell's gotten into you, Kai?”

If she only knew.

I turn away and march straight into the ladies' loo. “Anna?” I see her feet in a stall at the end. My heart is pounding and filled with worry at how she's feeling after a night of whisperers on her back. “Ann?”

“I'm fine, Kai,” she says, but she doesn't sound it. I need to see her. Help her.

I go to her stall and touch the handle. “You're sick. Let me in.”

“No. I'm fine now.”

“Shall I send Marna, then?”