Poison Promise

24

Bria and I were still holding hands, enjoying the easy quiet between us, when another person opened the door and entered the stateroom—a dwarf wearing a string of pearls and a pink dress patterned with large white roses.

Jolene “Jo-Jo” Deveraux marched over to the bed, planted her hands on her hips, and stared at me with a critical gaze, her clear eyes almost devoid of color except for her black pupils. She clucked her tongue at my sorry state and shook her head, although the motion didn’t so much as ruffle a single one of her perfect, white-blond curls.

“Sorry I haven’t been in to see you before now, darling,” she said. “But I had to wait until that nasty drug was completely out of your system.”

“No worries. It only hurts when I breathe.”

Jo-Jo let out a hearty laugh, then went into the bathroom to wash her hands. Bria got up, and Jo-Jo came back out and took her seat next to the bed, scooting the chair even closer to me. The dwarf’s eyes began to glow a pale, milky white, as did the palm of her hand, as she brought her Air magic to bear. She leaned forward, and a series of invisible pins and needles began to stab their way up and down my body. Air elementals like Jo-Jo used oxygen and all the other natural gases in the air to clean out infected wounds, mend broken bones, and stitch up ripped skin.

Feeling myself being put back together again was never pleasant, especially since Jo-Jo’s Air magic was the opposite of my own Ice and Stone power. The dwarf using her magic on me in any way would never seem right, just as being around my power when I was actively using it would never sit well with her.

But what made it worse today was how much it reminded me of Benson.

The pins-and-needles sensation made me think of the phantom sandpaper I’d noticed when Benson murdered Troy and then again when he was reaching out, trying to feel my emotions in Northern Aggression and in his lab. Even though Jo-Jo would never use her magic like that, would never, ever hurt me, a low warning snarl rumbled out of my throat.

“Gin?” Bria asked. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” I said through gritted teeth, my fingers twisting in the silk sheets. “Do me a favor and distract me. Tell me about Silvio. How did he help you?”

“It was all his idea,” she said. “After Catalina and I made it to Xavier’s car, I didn’t want to leave you behind, but some vamps rolled up in an SUV, and Xavier had to floor it to get away from them. Xavier and I had just gotten to the riverboat with Catalina when Silvio texted me. I had no idea how he had my number, but he told me that Benson had captured you and that he had a plan to help you escape. I didn’t believe him, but Catalina told me that he was her uncle and that he was telling the truth. Silvio told me how to get past the guards to make it to that patio and said that he would be there waiting with you. He said that jumping off the bridge into a boat would be the quickest way to get you away from Benson, and he was right.”

She sighed. “I wish he would have come with us. Benson’s probably killed him by now.”

I had my doubts about that, but another uncomfortable wave of Jo-Jo’s magic sweeping through my body kept me from answering. It took the dwarf another five minutes before she leaned back and released her hold on her magic. The white glow faded from her hand and her eyes.

“There, darling,” Jo-Jo said. “Good as new.”

I flopped back against the pillows, panting for breath, sweat streaming down my face. But slowly, the memory of Jo-Jo’s magic faded away, and I moved my arms and legs. Just like she said, everything felt brand-new, including my previously shattered ankle.

I could have lain there and drifted off to sleep, but I forced myself to sit upright. “I need that bag, the one that was tied to my arm when you rescued me.”

Bria frowned, but she went over, grabbed the bag from where it had been sitting on a coffee table, and brought it over to me. I ripped through the plastic. My knives lay inside, along with my spider rune ring, but I was more concerned about what was in the very bottom of the bag: the black leather-bound book that Silvio had slipped inside.

I pulled the book out and started flipping through it. And I realized that it wasn’t a book so much as it was a ledger, one that chronicled Benson’s entire drug operation.

The first half of the ledger was gibberish, at least to me. Chemical compounds, formulas, and equations for Benson’s drug cocktails. I quickly flipped past those sections.

The back half of the book was much more interesting, featuring rows of columns, numbers, and, most important of all, names—names of everyone who bought drugs from or sold them to Benson. They were even ranked, in terms of how much money they made or cost the vampire.

I recognized many of the names, including some of the other underworld bosses like Lorelei Parker and Ron Donaldson. The ledger was practically a who’s who of bad folks in Ashland. I flipped to the very back and the most recent entries. I scanned down the rows of names of Benson’s drug suppliers until I found the one I was looking for.

“What’s that?” Jo-Jo asked.

“Insurance.” I repeated what Silvio had said to me in the lab, and I finally realized why he’d given me the ledger. “Benson won’t kill Silvio. Not yet. By now, he will have realized that Silvio slipped me this. He’ll want to know what I plan to do with his little black book before he kills Silvio.”

I snapped the ledger shut, then looked at Bria. “What do you say we mount another rescue mission? You and me together this time.”

Her smile matched the one on my face.

We worked out the rough outlines of our plan, although Bria insisted that we wait until the morning to implement it. I didn’t want Silvio to be tortured like I had been, but it was already too late for that. I just had to hope that he could hold on until we could save him. Besides, I wanted to be at full strength when I faced Benson again, and my body still needed time to recover from all the trauma it had been through today.

My mind and heart too.

Jo-Jo and Bria left so I could relax, but I was too restless to drift off to sleep, so I threw back the covers, padded into the bathroom, and took a long, hot shower to wash the lemony stench of Benson’s lab off me, if not the memories from my mind.

Unfortunately, those would linger for a long, long time to come.

I wrapped a towel around my body and stepped back out into the stateroom to find Owen sprawled across one of the couches, staring at a muted football game on the TV. He straightened up and turned off the TV.

“Hey,” he said. “Jo-Jo sent me on in. I’ve been waiting out here. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

He’d been giving me some quiet time to myself, time to process all the horrible things that had happened and bury them deep down where no one would ever see them. My heart swelled with love for him. Owen was so good about giving me the space I needed. But I was tired of being hurt and heartsick and reliving the horrors that Benson had visited upon me. Right now, I wanted—I needed—to feel something good, something strong, something real and more powerful than anything Benson could ever do to me.

Owen.

“Gin?” he asked, getting to his feet. “Are you all right? Do you want me to get Jo-Jo?”

Instead of answering him, I went over to the door and threw the lock. I didn’t want anyone interrupting this. I sashayed back over to Owen, stopping in front of him. I kept my gray gaze on his violet one as I loosened the towel and let it drop to the floor.

Appreciation and desire sparked in his eyes, but Owen hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” I replied in a husky whisper. “I don’t want to think about Benson or anything else but you for the rest of the night.”

Owen reached for me, but I put my hand on his chest and backed him over to the bed. He reached for me again, but I kept him at arm’s length as I unbuttoned his shirt and unzipped his pants. He stepped back long enough to shed his clothes and grab a condom from his wallet. I took my little white pills, but we always used extra protection. He reached for me a third time, and I finally let his arms encircle me.

For a while, we just stood there, our foreheads touching, our breath mingling together, my hands resting on his broad shoulders, even as his fingers stroked up and down my back in light nonsense patterns. Then I stepped forward, and we both eased down onto the bed together.

Sensing my need for control, Owen lay back and let me explore his body. I kissed him gently, teasing my tongue against his, stoking the fire that always burned between us.

For a long time, that’s all I did. But then my kisses grew bolder, harder, and longer, and my hands began to wander. I lifted my lips from Owen’s and kissed my way down his body, starting with the crooked tilt to his nose before moving to the scar that slashed across his chin and then down to his muscled chest. Eventually, my lips, tongue, and hands slid even farther down, exploring his hard length.

Owen groaned. “You drive me crazy.”

I grinned and took him in my mouth.

He groaned again, his muscles bunching and twitching with every hot flick of my tongue and gentle nibble of my teeth. Just before he went over the edge, I backed off and kissed my way back up to his mouth.

We broke apart, and he stroked my hair. “Gin?”

I knew what he was really asking. I nodded, lay back, and finally let him touch me, really touch me, his hands exploring my body just as mine had explored his, from the sensitive curve of my neck to my breasts and then down to the tangle of curls between my legs. Owen slipped a finger inside me, even as his tongue danced around one of my nipples, then the other one. The low, languid fire that had been flickering inside me erupted into something much hotter and far more intense.

Suddenly, it was all too much and not enough at the same time.

“Condom,” I rasped. “Now.”

Owen ripped open the packet and covered himself with it. The second he was finished, I plastered myself on top of him, kissing him hard and deep, my hands touching every single part of him. Then I rose up and slid down onto his hard length, making us both cry out.

Owen put his hands on my hips, steadying me, anchoring me, grounding me, as I rode him hot, hard, and fast. The pleasure and pressure between us built and built, until we both exploded, finding our release together.

Then, when it was over, I slumped down over his body. Owen’s arms went around me, and he drew me even closer to him, cradling me against his chest and murmuring how much he loved me over and over again. I buried my face in his neck.

And it was only then that I truly let go and drowned in all the horrible emotions and memories of the day.

My feeling of frenzy slowly dissipated, and I shuddered out a breath, going limp and boneless in Owen’s warm, solid embrace. His murmurs slowly faded away, but he kept stroking my hair, arms, and back, as if trying to reassure me with every soft skim of his fingers that this was real, that he was here, and that neither one of us was going anywhere.

Maybe he was trying to prove that to himself too.

For the first time since Benson had shoved that Burn pill into my mouth, I felt truly safe, like the vampire would never be able to hurt me again. Of course, that wasn’t true, and it wouldn’t be true, not until I killed him. But as I listened to Owen’s heart drumming in his chest, I let myself have the illusion of safety, at least for the rest of this night.

Because tomorrow would be even more dangerous than today. Tomorrow I would face down my enemy—and only one of us would live through the confrontation.