Waiting in the Wings (Soulgirls) (12 page)

“That’s great,” her voice trembled. “But how can you when I don’t know for sure? I must have done something that landed me here. Heidi said she didn’t own my contract, which means someone else does. I have no memory of a life before being in the Midnight Mystery Lounge, but obviously I had one. And…” She rose and walked toward him, unabashed and beautiful in her nudity. “…and I don’t know. I don’t know how to find the answers and I don’t know if I want them.”

He frowned. “You don’t want to remember?” Did he hear that correctly?

She picked her way past the glass and debris until she stood in front of him. Cupping his cheeks in her palms, she stared at him with such honest devotion it took his breath away.
She still loves me.
He believed it, tasted it in her kisses and her caresses—but the surge of emotion he felt from her now made those other experiences pale. His blood flowed through her, the fractured, latent connection sizzled to real life.

She loved him.

“I don’t want to be the woman who hurt you.”

He looped his arms around her and tugged her close. “I hurt me too, darling. I do not blame you for our fights and I would never blame you for what has befallen you. I blame myself. I blame my stubbornness and pride. I put my city before you and I shouldn’t have done that—”

“But being Prince must mean a lot of work and a lot of responsibility—I could have been more understanding.”

“You understood for several centuries, Kristina.” He leaned back and mirrored her pose, holding her face in his hands. “
Centuries
. You supported every effort I made, you didn’t complain…”

She snorted. “Seriously? Ever?”

“Okay, you complained.” A reluctant grin tugged at his lips. “But you never stopped supporting me. I should have been more sensitive to your needs.”
But it was easier to say later. I would do it later, and then later disappeared, and you weren’t there.
He swallowed the grief of her absence, burying it deep. He’d sustained himself with irritation and anger for decades. He could hold on longer—hold on until she was his again.

Frustration rent through him, but he kissed her as gently as he could before letting her go so he could begin cleaning up the destruction. He would have to replace Malcolm’s furniture.

“I could talk to Andrew. He’s often in the Arcana Royale…”

“No.” He glared at her over his shoulder. “You will stay away from him.”

“But we still don’t know why I’m here or how to get me free. Malcolm had to play a game for Pandora. And Roseâtre… Roseâtre was only trapped because she willed it…” Kristina jerked and glanced at her wrists, examining them carefully.

Sweeping the glass onto a discarded sheet, he frowned. “What are you doing?”

“Roseâtre had on slave bands, but you couldn’t see them. I just wanted to see if I did.”

“You can’t use slave bands on a vampire, love.” He gave her an indulgent smile when she grumbled. “You can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because vampires answer to their makers, the slave band can’t force them to do anything because—” He considered the reasons behind the sire-child bond. A maker had to be able to control their child, but the natural born—their makers were their parents. Those bonds stayed in effect until the parent died. Yet, slave bands didn’t affect the natural born. The act of making a human into a vampire was difficult enough, and the unpredictable results on the turned negated any potential gain.

“No. Not slave bands and even if they did, that wouldn’t take away your memory.” He carried the debris into the other room and set it in a corner. Kristina still stood in the middle of the bedroom, looking a little lost and forlorn when he returned. “We will figure this out, I swear that to you. I will not leave you here.”

“Leave?” The color in her cheeks faded. “You can’t stay here.”

“Don’t worry about it, darling. We will figure this out before I have to go.” He had one sundown left. One more day. It wasn’t enough time.

It has to be.

“Come—” He held out his hand. “Come sit with me by the fire and just be with me for now. The sun will rise in just a little while. Let us have that time…”

“No.” The rejection stung, but she took his hand and squeezed it. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I promised Heidi I would return before the sun came up and I don’t—I don’t want you to see what happens when it does.”

His gut clenched. “I already saw, love. I would rather be with you and have you know I will be here when you waken.”

But she shook her head. “No. I hate that you saw me like that. I really hate it. I want you to remember me like this. Not cold and asleep and lost. I wake at sunset. I’m whole again. And I have to dance tonight…”

Anger crashed through him again, anger at the situation, at the casino, at the stage manager—at himself. He held her in his arms. He’d tasted her sweet lips, and she’d drunk from him but still she wasn’t free. If only he just had to kill someone—Andrew. He could kill him. But would that be enough to free her?

“Please, Richard.” It was the soft note of pleading around the first word that undid him. “Please don’t watch when it happens. Let me go away where you can’t see. I swear to you as soon as the performance is over, I will be yours again.”

He wanted to deny her, to hold her captive and tell the whole hotel to go to hell. If he held her, maybe he could stop the curse from taking her. But that was what he wanted—not what she was asking.

“I hate letting you go.” He admitted. He wasn’t sure he physically
could
let her go. She’d escaped the night before because he’d been too dazzled by their reunion and her rebuff to stop her. But could he really hold her captive?

“I hate having to go…but thank you. You will be at the show, you promise?”

“Of course.” He would never leave her side again if given his way. She rewarded him with another kiss and snuggled against his chest, resting her head on his shoulder. Tomorrow night could very well be their last together…

He clamped off the thought and discarded it. It would not be their last, no matter what it cost him. He wouldn’t allow it.

“I’m going to shower.” She slipped away and sidestepped the glittering shards of glass in the carpet. He followed her inside and leaned against the wall. She turned on the hot jets and glanced over at him. “You could join me, you know…”

He smiled slowly. “I like to watch.”

“Dirty, dirty boy.” She winked and slid a hand over her breast. His whole body twitched as she rolled her thumb back and forth over it until it puckered. “Okay, if you like to watch. I’ll make sure it’s a show.”

She stepped under the water and left the door open. She took her time rubbing the water onto her skin. Eventually, she added soap, and when the washcloth glided up between her thighs, he launched off the wall and into the shower.

Scooping her up, he pressed her flat against the wall and claimed her mouth, thrusting into her in the same motion. Her laughter rang into his ears, and he let himself drown in her touch.

Thirty minutes later, he helped her into her dress and laid a kiss against her shoulder. “I love you, Kristina. Please don’t forget that.”

“I love you too.” Her easy declaration made his soul sing. “I may not remember where we met or all the years we spent together or even how I ended up here…but I know I love you. I won’t give up on us.”

He kissed her, slow and soft, and gentle, but when she pulled away, he let her go. He prowled after her as she walked out to the sitting room and reclaimed her shoes, shadowing her all the way to the door. The sun would rise soon—he could feel it in his blood. Another long, slow kiss at the door and he wanted to bolt it shut, but he forced himself to open it. Anton and David waited patiently along with her guardian.

He crushed the door handle as he watched her walk into the elevator. The doors closed on her winsome smile, and his faded.

“David. Find the Overseers—any of them. I want a meeting. Now.” David headed for the elevator immediately. Richard glanced at the other guard. “Anton, who do we have on the ground here?”

“A few contacts, but Sobrit’s cousins live here. And they are always reliable sources of intel.”

“Good, reach out to them. I want to know everything Andrew has done for the last few decades. What business deals is he into, where his political interests are…everything.”

“As you wish.” Anton bowed his head and paused to glance at the door. “I will have that repaired immediately.”

Richard waved him off and walked back into the suite. Picking up the phone, the trace of glitter on his hand surprised him. She may have retreated, but everywhere she touched his life—it was a brighter place for it. Clenching the hand into a fist, he dialed New York and ignored Malcolm’s annoyed “yes” when he answered the phone. “The Prince of Las Vegas is up to something. I want you to find out what.”

“Okay.” Malcolm yawned. “Have you—are you and Kristina…?”

“Together, but not. You challenged the Overseers to a game for your bride. What other leverage do we have?”

“Not much. But I’ll find something.”

“Be quick. I have one night left and I will not lose her again.”

Chapter Eight

Kiki raced after the butterflies, chasing them up the hill. At the crest, she halted and stared at the verdant valley below. The sun danced low on the horizon, not quite setting. But the shadow of clouds overhead kept the light at bay. She loved the isle, the tropical breezes, the white sands, the warm water and the colorful villages nestled into the hills. The natives were sweet, always welcoming and they didn’t bar their doors against the strangers. Richard took over the island easily upon their arrival, and they welcomed the European lord with great fanfare.

She considered the position of the sun, the fingertips of light stretching over the valley below. She could outrun them, dance between the beams or she could sit here and wait patiently for the sun to completely sink below the horizon. But if she did that, she would be late for supper, and Richard would know for certain she’d snuck out to play in the rain. Her damp clothing clung to her, but she didn’t care. The best part of the isle was the heavy storms that rolled in every afternoon and provided her a respite from their manor house. She could play in the woods and dance in the rain.

Decided, she raced down the hill. Her bare feet slipping and sliding on the damp earth didn’t cause her to slow her pace. She played with the sun, chasing around its burning edges, hugging village huts and darting from shadow to shadow. Over the high walls she leapt, hissing only once as the sun scorched the back of her neck. The burn hurt, but she made it, and the scalded skin would heal.

Still giggling, she skipped up the thick, tree-lined drive to the main house, but her laughter failed as Richard stepped out onto the porch. His dark and forbidding expression chastised her more loudly than any words.

“I know.” She trailed mud up onto the porch as she padded toward him. “But it was so beautiful, and you should have seen the rainbows after the storm.” She threw her arms around him, uncaring of the water dripping off of her or the expense of his billowy shirt and fine linens. “And I would have waited for full sunset, but there’s a party tonight…”

“We have to go to London, my love.” Her happiness deflated in one single instant.

“No.” She pulled back and scowled. “I don’t want to go to London. It’s crowded and noisy and dirty…”

“And the Prince of the City is fading. He’s requested that I come.” Richard tucked her damp hair behind her ears. “It is a wonderful opportunity. I will be able to expand our holdings tenfold, and you will have access to the finest of European dressmakers and parties.”

Kristina rolled her eyes and pushed him away, walking into the house and trailing mud with her. She might have cared except for the news. “You promised when we came here we would be here for a few decades. It’s been ten years, that’s it. One decade is not a few.”

“I know, darling. And I promise to make it up to you. But you love London. It rains all the time, which means never having to be trapped inside.”

She walked over to the bar and poured herself a drink. Richard slid his arms around her and nuzzled her neck. “We’ll be closer to our friends—”

“
Your
friends. The Reynolds, the Coulsons, the Whitehusts—they are your friends, Richard. They only tolerate me, the little bourgeois-turned-vampire who traded up for a blue blood.”

He growled against her throat, and the light pinch of his teeth scraped at her. “Do not talk about yourself that way, Kristina. They love you. They cannot wait for you to join them again. And they’re even going to throw a party in your honor.”

She shrugged. “Fine. But we have a party tonight.”

“We do, unfortunately with the change in plans—”

Kristina threw the drink across the room and it shattered. “You can’t go.” Disappointment flooded her. It was their very first party in a year, and she hadn’t wanted to throw it, but Richard insisted. And she’d worked for weeks to plan their anniversary into it, and now he wouldn’t even be showing up. She pushed away from him and strode toward the stairs. She would show him.

“Kristina…I will make it up to you—later. I promise.”

She ignored the censure in his voice and didn’t stop until she reached their suite and slammed the door for good measure. She knew he meant it. He always meant it, but if he saw another route, he would take it. But the London offer—it was too good to turn down. She padded over to the wide veranda doors and pulled them open.