The Bastard (7 page)

Tenderness slipped under his guard like fog. Lacy was a homemaker in every sense of the word. He felt welcomed in this little room. That was a hazardous feeling. Vike clamped his lips tight and turned back to his tea. He needed to get his head out of his ass and start guarding hers. Lacy wasn’t only in danger, she was a danger. To him.

Chapter Four

The towel fell away and she rubbed at her hair, avoiding her crown. Her hair was lighter than he thought, more honey than brown. She dropped the damp towel on the table and sat across from him. “So tell me about this cult thing?”

They’re a mix of de-souled humans and cursed heavenly beings who thrive on chaos and death. They answer to Samael. Oh, you’d call him Satan.

“Not much I can tell you really, just that they are dangerous.”

“I feel weird not paying you, not that I could afford a private security firm.”

“I told you, forget that. We’ve already been contracted for this job. You just get to reap the free benefits.”

A frown thinned her lips. Charity didn’t settle well with her apparently. He liked it better when in the past all he had to do was say that honor demand he protect her and a woman would accept it at face value. Modern women weren’t that gullible though.

“What’s your job? I mean, what do you do?”

Prevent Armageddon
. “Whatever I’m told. I go wherever I’m sent.”

“And they sent you to West Virginia?” The skepticism made her voice higher with a hint of laughter. He suddenly wanted to keep her talking just to listen.

“Sort of. My team has a base station not far from here in the mountains. It’s actually pretty convenient. Quiet, out of the way and still within airspace of where I need to be.”

West Virginia
was
quiet. It made it easy to hide in the mountains and was far enough away from metropolitan areas that they could come and go with relative anonymity. This location was only the latest in a series of places, countries and continents. They never stayed more than a hundred years or so.

“Airspace? Do you fly?”

The snort erupted before he could catch it. “Not me. I sail when I can, but flying, no, I’m no pilot. I prefer both feet firmly on the ground. Or on a boat deck.”

Why did she bite her bottom lip, as if holding back an intriguing thought? He didn’t want her to hold back anything. He wanted to know everything, to hear her dreams and her nightmares, her fears and her fascinations. She hid a secret smile behind her cup. He resented the mug and wanted to take it away, to see the curve of her mouth.

“I’m going to go dry my hair. Go on in the living room. Remote’s on the end table.”

Rabbits became his new favorite animal as he watched her ass go down the hall. He scrubbed his face with his hands. It was no effort for her to reheat the pasta, but to him it meant more. In his time, an unmarried woman offering to feed a solitary man was more than good manners. It carried an implication of intimacy. That she’d made the food with her own hands deepened the gesture almost to foreplay. His eyes closed. No woman had offered to cook for him since he’d died.

Cup in hand, he went and found the remote, clicking the flat screen on. Local news, he could stomach that. The furniture was done in a nubby blue fabric. The couch was too perilous a place because when she came out, he’d want her beside him. He took the chair and glanced out the window.

Evil eyes stared back. Seated in a bland sedan, a young woman waved at him, taunting him to come and play. A forked tongue darted out. In the back of the house, the hair dryer whined. He didn’t glance at his phone as he hit the screen.

“Vike, you have the patience of —”

“Galina’s watching the house. Bitch waved at me.”

“Can you pop her?”

“I’ll have to leave Lacy. She’s got meds on board so she should be okay.”

Silence pulsed for a tense moment. “Don’t leave her. She’s got a forty-day expiration label and you’re just a road block. And it’s Lacy now?”

“What do you want me to call her, Fido?”

“You were calling her Cake.”

His teeth snapped together, spiraling tension through his head. He had been but it didn’t seem fitting now. She wasn’t a nameless Leech delicacy. She was…Lacy. “Part of my Prince Charming act.”

“An Oscar worthy performance then. Any sign of the Pussy Patrol?”

“Nope, haven’t seen a single Righteous.”

“Figures.”

The line went dead, but Vike kept the phone pressed to his ear for a long moment. A raw need rolled through him, the thirst for death and dust. The narcotics would keep Lacy safe for a while. He should go out and dust the Minion. Anger rushed in a blaze of red and he jumped to his feet. The car sped away before his foot touched the porch.

Murderous. That’s the only word she could think of to describe Erik’s face when she’d come into the living room. Then he’d turned and his smile erased all those ugly thoughts. A dog had been in her yard, he’d said. Knowing the neighbor’s schnauzer was an escape artist, she just shrugged and settled on the couch.

Her heart beat a little faster when he joined her. The television droned in the background as she fell under his spell. Sitting beside him, talking about music and food and nothing at all, he entranced her. All those trivial facts of getting to know a stranger clicked into place. He dodged most of her questions about his job, but it never felt he was being overly evasive, just cautious. Still, some of his exploits made her laugh.

“You’ve mentioned Gen a few times. He’s a friend?”

His cheeks went taut and he shifted, angling his body away from hers. “Yeah, he was.”

“Was?”

“He died not long ago.”

“I’m so sorry. What happened?” She reached for his hand.

Strong fingers tightened around hers. “It was stupid. Surprise assignment that we hadn’t planned on. It ended pretty well but… I should’ve had his back.”

“You can’t blame yourself for something like that.”

“Yeah, Lacy, I can.”

“You’re only human, Erik. Your friend died doing something he believed in, right?”

Knotted over his eyes, his dark gold brows were a mix of shades; tan, gold and yellow. He studied her for a long moment then nodded. “We were trying to save someone’s life.”

“And did you?”

His hand squeezed hers. “Yes.”

“Then his death wasn’t in vain. Sometimes the bad guys win. It’s not fair and it hurts, but you can’t let that stop you. The next time someone needs help, you’ll be there.”

Drawing his hand away, he stared at her with his lips parted. “God, you really do think I’m some kind of hero.”

“To me, you are.”

The laugh track on a sitcom rang loud in the room but they ignored it. Something thick and warm flowed between them. Her lips grew dry and when she licked across them, his focus dropped to her mouth. Maybe she wasn’t just a job to him after all.

The oven timer pinged and they returned to the kitchen. Not even the reheated meal slowed their conversation. He didn’t touch her again intentionally, but he was a big guy. Their knees bumped under the table and, okay, maybe she might have let that happen a few extra times. The sun sank early, dipping the room into darkness, and she wanted to bathe in his voice, letting the day fade away.

A sharp knock burst into their soft-focused world. Lacy excused herself and went to the front door. A brawny State Trooper touched his hat brim. The late fall dusk was still bright enough that she had no need for the porch light but his face was shadowy.

“Lacy Cooper? Could you step outside a few minutes? I have some questions for you regarding your attack.”

The screen door latch was hard but Erik’s grip was harder, crushing her fingers. “Don’t.”

“What are you doing?” He thrust her behind him. She shoved at him but it was like trying to move a semi. “Erik, you can’t interfere with a police investigation.”

“Watch me,” he snarled, his rabid glare locked on the officer.

The Trooper bristled. “You need to step aside, dog.”

Erik’s low chuckle sounded like a dare. “Bow fucking wow.”

The Trooper’s eyes narrowed but he spoke to her. “Ma’am, I need you to come outside right now or I’ll arrest you.”

A thread of panic shot through her as Erik widened his stance. Lacy sucked in a harsh gasp at the lethal knife now clutched in his hand. He drew a weapon on a State Trooper? They were so going to jail. “Erik, move!”

“He’s not a real cop, Lacy.”

She did a quick inventory through the screen: uniform, badge, big freakin’ gun. Yep, cop.

“He’s one of Sam’s group.” Erik’s tone was soft, deadly and taunting.

“Are you sure?” Shivers spread along her bones. The last thing she wanted was to walk into her death at the hand of a psycho cult. The second to last thing she wanted was to go to jail for disobeying an officer.

“Check him out. Call 911.”

She reached for her cell and the Trooper growled. “Come out and play with me, mutt.”

“Love to, but I’m not leaving her alone.”

The wooden doorframe rattled as he slammed his hands against it. “The Master wants her and he will have her.”

“Not while I’m here.” Erik raised his knife. “Tell your Master to suck my dick.”

Furious glittering eyes speared her over Erik’s shoulder. The fading light played tricks with her mind and she thought a forked tongue slicked along his lip as the not-real-Trooper grinned with cold promise. “See you soon, Lacy.”

He tipped his hat, turned and left, with a cocky swagger to his step. Erik didn't lower his knife until the Trooper walked out of sight-range. He slammed the door, clicking the lock. Lacy’s knees started knocking. Erik caught her arm as she swayed. He led her to the couch and pushed her down, lowering his frame beside hers and setting his knife on the coffee table. “Breathe.”

“He said he was… He had a badge.”

“Any jackass can get a badge online.”

A violent tremor shuddered through her. She couldn’t trust anyone, not even the police. Erik tugged her close, wrapping his arms around her and she corrected herself. She could trust him.

“If you hadn’t —”

“I’m not going anywhere. You’re safe.”

His arms felt like the safest place in the world. She’d never been this close to anyone as big as he was. It made her feel feminine and tiny, things she’d given up ever feeling somewhere around age sixteen. His chest was rock-hard against her breasts, his arms like steel around her, but his hands were gentle, stroking her back as if she were a kitten. An electric crackle danced up her spine. Someone wanted her dead. She didn’t know why or even who really. She only knew that nothing would hurt her while Erik held her. He was her hero.

Security made her brave and she lifted her face from the curve of his neck, bringing her eyes to his. The matching hunger on his face made her braver and her fingers brushed his jaw. Sharp tiny bites from barely seen whiskers pricked her skin. The fullness along his bottom lip enchanted her and she stroked it.

His breath grew shallow and hot against her finger. “Be careful what you wish for, Lace.”

Lace.
He shortened her name and gave it an elegance, an intricacy. He made her name beautiful, delicate and fragile, things she’d never been. “What am I wishing for, Erik?”

“Whatever it is, I’m not it.” Regret darkened his eyes to shale. “I’m not a good guy. I’m not a hero.”

“You are to me.”

He gave her every chance. His body moved with power and grace, each action signaling his intent, but she never shied away. All reservations, if there had been any, melted away as he tipped her chin higher with his knuckle.

Warm and solid yet light as a butterfly’s landing, his lips grazed hers. They halted as if to pull away but returned and grazed once more. He let his lips glide over hers until they parted then stole inside like a shiver at midnight. That shiver started at her neck and shimmied down her spine until it hit between her legs with a tingling heat.

He tasted each corner of her mouth and a connection sparked, snapped and forged. In a single kiss, they melded. He didn’t try to shove his tongue down her throat or scrape her teeth or paw her. The demands on her lips just increased to nips and nibbles. His palm slid along her waist and tingles spread to her breasts. Full and aching, they swelled, longing for his touch.

Eric lowered her onto the couch cushions, brought his body down atop hers, never lifting his mouth from hers. His hands cupped her breasts before sliding under her shirt. The sensitive skin tingled under his caress. Her inhale breathed his scent deep into her lungs, carrying Erik deep inside her soul.

Skittering along her lip, his tongue shot into her mouth. Her hands feathered through his hair. Wet heat pulsed between her legs. Gripped by some possessed lust-demon, she rocked her ache against his thigh.

He moaned. Soft and low, the vibration tickled along her lips. He shifted and pain lanced through her. A hiss escaped from her mouth.

Erik jerked back. “Shit.”

“It’s okay. My ribs are just really sore.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to… I shouldn’t have kissed you at all.” Wiping a huge hand across his face, he sat up and took a deep breath. “And I shouldn’t be thinking of doing it again.”

Lacy dipped her head to hide her smile. She sat up and snuggled closer to his chest. “Why not? I’m thinking the same thing. But I’m all bruised and banged up. Can I have a rain check for when I heal up?”

He shifted, put his arm around her and cradled her. “I hope you heal fast.”

Lacy giggled and reached for the remote. For hours, they watched mindless TV but he never once let her go. Her eyes grew heavy and she drifted off, sure that as long as Erik held her, she was safe.

There was something to be said for falling asleep with a woman in your arms. Vike missed that. He could’ve slept, if he thought about it and made it happen. His body didn’t crave sleep like it once had. Now sleep only pressed down when he needed to heal. Healing wasn’t what he needed, but he wished he could succumb, to slip into the normal warmth of entwined limbs and just…be.