Temptation Rising (31 page)

“Right,” Kalina said. “I know. I’ll call you.” Because she knew that even in the midst of all her self-imposed loneliness she could, and Mrs. Gilbert would answer.

With a little effort Kalina pushed the broken door until it just about closed. Then she turned back to face Rome.

“I’m only going because my door’s a complete loss and it’s a mess in here. Not because you said so.”

He nodded. “Can you just hurry up?”

She was talking and asking questions and time was wasting. He’d smelled the stench the moment he touched the guy who was strangling Kalina. It was Rogue, but the man wasn’t. Still, a Rogue had been here, in this apartment.

A Rogue he knew well.

A Rogue he’d vowed to kill.

And he’d been in Kalina’s apartment. Death was definitely imminent now.

*   *   *

In the truck there was silence. She remembered being inside this vehicle before. Twice. Once with Rome and another time …

“I think somebody else has been following me,” she said, because too many things were happening that she was second-guessing herself on. If sitting beside her was the beast she’d sworn wasn’t real, then the person snapping pictures of her and leaving them at her apartment was a real threat, too.

He’d been quiet since she’d grabbed a bag and tossed another one at him before they left the apartment. She’d left with him, was in this truck with him, going she had no idea where. She had to ask why. The answer wasn’t simple.

“What happened?”

“Pictures,” she replied simply. “He keeps sending me pictures. Of the night of the party and of that night two years ago. Pictures of me.”

“Do the cops know?” he asked without looking at her.

“No.”

“Really?”

She glanced at him, wanting to see him again. Wanting desperately to see the cat.

It occurred to her that she should be afraid of him and what he’d told her he was, what she knew she’d seen. Maybe she should have killed him or at the very least arrested him, but for what? Saving her life yet again?

While there was a measure of fear of what would come next, she didn’t instantly identify with that emotion. It was strange, coupled with all the other strange things that had been going on in her life. She wanted to go with him, wanted to hear what he had to say about who and what he was, why he was here. For a minute she felt like Lois Lane desperate for any answers she could get from Superman.

But this wasn’t for an interview. For Kalina it was more. She wanted to know why she’d been attracted to someone such as Rome when she hadn’t felt anything for a man in years. She wanted to understand what had drawn her to him and why.

“You were there that night in the alley when that dealer attacked me. You were there at the party when those thugs were coming for me. Last night there was something at Mel’s house. I saw the eyes and heard noises from the bushes. Then I was knocked out and I woke up in your bedroom.” She’d only remembered that as she’d packed in the last hour. The minute she’d seen this truck parked on the street in front of her house, it had all clicked neatly into place. “And you were there again today. Always there when—”

“When you need me,” he finished. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Kalina. Ever.”

He spoke with controlled finality, as if it was a simple fact that she would have to accept. Well, despite him following her, he didn’t know her at all.

“I didn’t hire a bodyguard because I don’t need one.”

“Good. I’m not for hire.”

He didn’t look at her, just kept his gaze either on the back of the seat in front of him or out the tinted windows. That irritated her, too. She wanted to see his eyes, to look into the orbs that had haunted her for so many nights.

“Why didn’t you tell the police about the pictures?”

“The same reason I don’t need a bodyguard. I can handle it myself.”

“I’ll handle it.”

“I don’t recall asking you to.”

“And I’m not offering. I’m telling you.”

With those heated words he looked at her, his eyes now dark brown again but still smoldering.

“This is insane.” She sighed. “All of it. You’re following me. Someone else is following me. I don’t even know who or what you are now.”

He was quiet.

“Why won’t you answer my questions?”

“I will but not here, not now.”

“Oh that’s right, I forgot. Everything in your time on your terms. Where are you taking me, or can’t I ask that question, either?”

“I’ll answer all your questions when we get there.”

“When we get where?”

He sighed, then turned his head slowly to face her. “Do you ever stop asking questions? You’re like Eyewitness News or something.”

She almost smiled, almost sank back into the seat and rattled off a smart-ass answer. But his eyes stopped her. They were still brown human irises swirling with emotion.

“I’m just an ordinary woman trying to make sense of all this,” she said quietly.

“No,” he said seriously. “There’s nothing ordinary about you, Kalina.”

*   *   *

Below the city, through tunnels that used to belong to an old outdated line of the subway, the two of them walked.

“They’ve had him for hours now. What do you think they’re going to do with him?”

“Kill him,” Darel said without another thought.

“Shit. So what are we going to do about that?”

“Nothing to do.”

“You’re kidding, right? He’s our partner. We can’t just let him go down like this.”

“He shouldn’t have strayed from the plan. I told him how we were going to get her. He knows what Sabar’s orders were.”

“So? He was trying to get the job done. You’re saying we should just let him die,” Chi argued.

“I’m saying we don’t have a choice,” Darel told Chi seriously. “Look, you don’t know what screwing Sabar over will get you. Those shadows are probably going to be a lot more merciful with him than Sabar would have been. So count his stupid ass as being lucky.”

“Dying’s not lucky. And leaving your partner down is just foul.”

“I’m not discussing this,” Darel said finally. “We’ve got other shit to do. Sabar’s not pleased with our botched attempts to get that bitch. We need to tread lightly with him right now or we’ll be just as dead as Chavez.”

She’d risen in status from trick to bitch, only because he’d watched her shower again this morning. Darel hadn’t seen her naked in weeks, and only on the days that Sabar allowed him to keep watch. Usually it was the head Rogue who liked to watch her, got his rocks off in his car by doing so.

This morning it had been Darel, in his car all alone. The bugs and cameras were now in place inside her apartment, giving Sabar some info to use when he finally captured her. Even though Darel had no idea how that info was going to help in what Sabar had planned.

At any rate he’d watched her lather up a sponge and drag it over every crevice of her body. His beast had roared for release until he’d had no choice but to free his own burgeoning erection, rubbing and stroking to the sight of her. The release had been powerful and painful, an urge he’d slaked just because it was there. One he didn’t want to have, but would act on regardless. He wasn’t happy about Chavez being caught and he was even less happy that it was this bitch who’d put him in that position to start with. So no, he shouldn’t want to fuck her senseless, but he did. He wanted to pound inside her until he hurt her, until she bled and cried out for help.

Just like those two the night before.

That had been delicious, the drum of arousal in his ears, the feel of their hot flesh beneath his hands, the scent of their horrific fear in his nostrils. They’d all been aroused and angry and feasted on the two hookers without qualm. The killing may have gone over the top, but even that had felt good. To each of them.

Now it was just two of them, but they would have a chance at a feast like that again. Soon. And when he and Chi took Kalina Harper, they’d make her sorry that her worthless lover and his goons had killed their friend.

“Where are we going now?”

“To collect Sabar’s money.”

“We’re in the freakin’ sewers, man. Who collects like this? We aren’t dime store dealers.”

“No, we’re not,” Darel answered. “But those shadows are looking for us. We’d be fools to go walking right out in front of them. We need to get in here and get out.”

“What if he doesn’t have the money?” Chi asked as they came upon a rickety stairwell he knew led to another manhole that opened into an alley right beside a parking garage in downtown DC.

“Then we take it from him and shut his dumb lying-ass mouth for good. Just like we did the good senator,” he said.

Chi smiled, climbing the stairs behind him. “Yeah, that was sweet the way you ripped that guy’s throat out.”

Lifting up a hand to reach the manhole, Darel looked back. “He’s not threatening to talk anymore, now is he?”

He pushed the manhole open and streams of sunlight filled the dark shaft as Chi laughed.

Hell no, Senator Baines wasn’t talking anymore, and neither was his daughter who’d made the mistake of calling Chi an animal as he’d fucked her. They’d both grown quiet as they choked on their own blood. A sound Chi would never grow tired of hearing.

Chapter 22

This time Kalina was helped out of the truck by another man. He was as tall as Rome with an even bigger build. His skin was dark and his eyes even darker as he reached for her hand while she stepped down. The minute she was on the ground Rome was beside her and the other man dropped her hand like a hot coal. Rome nodded and the other man moved around to the back of the truck—getting her bags, she presumed. Rome’s hand slid to her elbow as he guided her toward the front doors.

She felt like royalty, but not. Every man around her seemed to cater to her but didn’t say a word, as if these commands were simply known. It wasn’t a world she understood and didn’t know if she really wanted to. What was absolutely clear to her was that Rome was no ordinary lawyer or citizen, and neither were the people around him.

It was a massive estate and looked even more palatial than it had when she was here before. Kalina hadn’t taken a good look last night, but today she absorbed every detail. From the plump shrubs crowding the five steps she walked up, to the large, glossy double doors that opened slowly as they approached.

Another man, tall with leathery skin and keen eyes, looked at her this time.

“Ms. Harper, what a pleasure to finally meet you,” he said, extending his hand to her. For a minute she thought he’d looked to Rome for permission, but instead it was Rome’s hand that fell from her side. She reached out and shook the older man’s hand, muttering a timid “Hello.”

He knew who she was, that was obvious, but she had no idea what Rome had told the man about her. Or why he’d talk about her in the first place. This all seemed surreal, her here with her prime suspect, on his personal turf. The DEA couldn’t have planned a better sting.

“Call me Baxter,” the older man said as he escorted her through the foyer. “Whatever you need I will take care of. You will be most comfortable here.”

“Thank you, Baxter,” she said, but she wasn’t sure how long he thought she’d be staying.

“Take her bags to my room,” she heard Rome say from behind.

“I don’t get a choice of where I sleep?” she asked. She was treated to all three men staring at her in response.

No one answered. Rome simply nodded again and the man moved on with the bags. What was it with him and the nodding commands? And why did they all obey him so easily?

“Are you hungry?” Baxter asked, interrupting her thoughts.

“No, thank you,” she responded.

“Then I’ll get you a drink. Mr. Roman, she looks tired. She should rest.” Baxter spoke and then he was gone.

Just like that,
she thought. The feel of this place was one of quiet authority, which she figured she’d be subject to for as long as she was here.

“He didn’t even ask what kind of drink I liked,” she said when it appeared she and Rome were alone.

They were still in the foyer with its glossy dark marbled floors and cranberry-painted walls. There were no pictures or paintings on these walls but every couple of feet along the one wall were podiums with marble statues on top. She walked closer to one, touching the rounded head of a black cat.

“He already knows what you would like to drink,” she heard Rome’s deep voice say from behind.

Her fingers trailed over the cool object, along the line of its back, around the muzzle of its face. “He doesn’t know me.”

“Baxter knows things about everyone.”

She turned at those words. “What is he?”

“He is not a shifter,” Rome answered.

“Is he like a psychic?”

“I don’t really know. He’s always been here with me, so I’ve gotten used to his sixth sense. You’ll get used to it as well.”

“Don’t count on it,” she mumbled but had turned to the statue again. “I have more questions.”