Chapter 11

Nova stood in the doorway, his chest heaving hard. Amara, handcuffed to the metal chair, gaped at him. She was sweating and covered in blood, her face pale from the pain. And yet, it was Kal Vann who captured his attention. Kal stood next to Amara, a knife in hand, a cocky sneer etched across his face. “Well, well, well,” Kal said, “look what we have here. Come to save the princess, Lowery? Does the whole damsel in distress scenario turn you on?”

Nova smirked. “Well look at that,” he said, forcing his voice to remain steady. “‘Scenario’ that’s a big word for a man like you. Let her go, Kal. Then you and I can fight this out like men. Or are you too afraid to face me on your own without a bunch of your goons around?”

Kal’s eyes narrowed in a glare. Amara looked a question at him, but Nova gave his head a tiny shake and stayed quiet.

“Nice try, Lowery,” Kal crooned. His voice shook with rage. “But the girl is mine. If you remember right, I had her first. You remember that night, right? Ten years ago, in Strathford? I had her right where I wanted her. On the ground, on her back.” He spat the last word for impact. “My teeth ripping into her throat.” Kal licked his lips. “I can still feel her blood spilling down my chin. Mmm, mmm, mmm. Salty and sweet on my tongue. But you, Lowery, you just couldn’t let me have her. You just had to be a hero. To please daddy. Well, who’s pleasing daddy now?”

Despite the fear spilling down his trembling spine, Nova laughed. It came out more manic than he intended, but he figured that only worked to his advantage. “Is that what all of this is about? You keep trying to please the father that can’t stand you? To prove your worth to a man who couldn’t care less about your existence? You’re just a pawn to him, Kal. You know it, I know it. Hell, all the Clans around know it. You’re a joke. You’re daddy’s little liability. You’re unstable, impulsive. You screw up more than you succeed, and to top it all off, you can’t even kill one little human girl. How long has it been since you first tried? Ten years, you said? Man, that’s got to piss you off, not being able to show Daddy that you can finish the job you started more than a decade ago. I mean, sure, I know what it’s like to be second-best in my father’s eyes, but to be nothing at all except a disappointment? Damn, that’s got to eat at you.”

A vein at Kal’s temple pulsed, but Nova didn’t care. He needed Kal to come at him, to forget about Amara. He needed to get the key from Kal and get her out of those cuffs, which meant he needed to get close to Kal to do it.

Only Vann didn’t seem too inclined to play along. Instead, he leered at Nova, malice in his sneer, and ran the pad of his thumb up and down the blade. From his vantage point, Nova couldn’t tell if Kal was pressing hard enough to slice into his finger, but it sure was one hell of an intimidation tactic. Nova didn’t even want to consider what Kal wanted to do to Amara with that knife. From the looks of it, he had already gotten a taste of her pain, and Nova wasn’t about to let him get any more.

Kal caught the direction of his gaze and grinned. To spite him, Nova was sure, Kal put the blade back up against Amara’s body and slid it down her chest. A thin line of red blossomed against the light brown hue of her skin. She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood to avoid screaming. Kal’s eyes didn’t leave Nova’s the entire time.

Nova saw red. Without another thought, he rushed forward, charging at Kal. Then, something sharp dug into his back, almost as if he had been shot with a knife, and his body spasmed uncontrollably. Electricity pulsed through his veins, shaking him to his core. His blood rushed in his ears, his heart racing from the Taser, until there was nothing left for him to do but go under.

Amara screamed. Nova lay face down on the cement floor. His body trembled, and from the looks of things, he was unconscious. Every twenty seconds or so, he would jerk, his arms flailing at his sides, as another blast of electricity shot through him. The man holding the Taser watched the display with an uncaring, callous expression.

Beside her, Kal laughed wickedly, as he called for a couple of his lackeys. Two big, burly men came at his call. They stood in the doorway, waiting for instruction. Kal waved a careless hand. “Take him back to his cell,” he commanded. The two men each grabbed an arm and hoisted Nova to his feet. His legs were still twitching. Turning, they carried Nova into the hall and out of sight.

Kal turned back to Amara. “Don’t worry,” he told her. “Your boy toy will be safe. Nobody gets to him except me.” He held up an electronic key that no doubt went to some kind of sophisticated computer system. “Which means nobody can get him out either, Princess.” Still laughing at his cleverness, he shoved it back in his pocket.

It took everything she had not to spit in his face. But that wasn’t what was going to help Nova. She needed to get to that key. She’d learned something from their little exchange. Kal had a weakness. He needed admiration. He needed to be accepted, wanted, desired, revered. He wanted his father to see him as worthy. He wanted Nova to respect him as a worthy adversary, and he wanted Amara to desire him the way she desired Nova.

Staring at the place Nova had just been, Amara began to laugh. It was throaty and self-satisfied with just a hint of hysteria.
Kal stopped and stared at her. “Shut up, bitch,” he spat, rolling his eyes. “Your precious Prince Charming isn’t here anymore.”

“I know,” Amara said, and her laugh turned into a seductive leer. “But I’m not sure I want him to be here anymore.” Kal’s eyes narrowed and she giggled. “Did you see how fast he went down? Beta of the Mountain Clan and he just collapsed. Doesn’t that sound weak to you?”

“What’s your point?” Kal asked, not bothering to hide his skepticism.

“My point, Kal, is that I’m looking for a real man, not just someone who can protect me when it’s convenient. I need someone strong, ruthless, and who is willing to do whatever it takes to meet all of my…needs.” Slowly, Amara ran her tongue over the length of her bottom lip. She dropped to voice to a husky whisper. “Do you know where I can find a man like that, Kal?” she asked, pleased to see his throat convulse in a nervous gulp.

“What exactly are you saying.”

She smiled. “Uncuff me and you’ll find out.”

For a moment or two, he just stared at her and Amara worried that he wasn’t taking her seriously. Then suddenly, his face relaxed, and he began to laugh and holstered the knife at his hip. “I knew you couldn’t be serious about that weak bastard. You want a real man, baby? I’ll give you a real man.” Fishing the key from his pocket, Kal knelt beside her and went to work on unlocking the metal wring around her wrist. He took her fingers into his mouth and kissed the tip of each one before unlocking the cuff on her other hand. His hand slid smoothly across her lap, just daring to venture up her thigh.

Amara massaged the red welts on her arms caused by the metal rubbing on her skin. She looked up at him from beneath her lashes. Kal took that as an invitation and pressed his lips to hers. His hand continued up her leg until it reached the place where her thighs conjoined. He dipped his thumb between her legs, caressing the center of her over her jeans. His other hand snaked up her shirt and cupped her breast. His breath mingled against her cheek, her lips, her jaw, and she fought against the rising nausea in her throat. She needed to get away, to get to Nova, and she would do whatever it took to succeed.

Kal’s teeth grazed her jaw, his fingers squeezing her nipple. His other hand pressed against her pants, moving up and down, the heat from the friction making him eager. Amara dropped her head back and let him touch her. She moaned for him, low and long, as if his touch was the only thing in the world she would ever desire. He kissed her again, his tongue exploring the inside of her mouth and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing herself against him. Nipping his lip, she heard him groan and let her own hand wander south. The last thing she wanted to do was touch any part of him, but she needed to be convincing if her plan was going to work.

“Stand up,” she whispered against his ear, trying to ignore the way he was groping her. “I want to be on top of you.”

Obliging, Kal stood, but he didn’t stop kissing her. Instead, he gripped her ass with both his hands and hoisted her up, securing her legs around his waist. Then he took her place on the chair.

Immediately, Amara began to grind against him, pressing their centers together with each roll of her hips. She could already feel him getting hard, and his stiff shaft bulged against his pants, aching to reach her. Kal’s hand pushed her shirt up over her bra. She raised her arms and let him slide it off over her head, crushing her mouth to his once more as soon as she was free. He rubbed his hands over her back, pulling her tight against him, before he unhooked her bra clasp with clever fingers and slid the straps down her arms before dropping the lacy lingerie to the floor. Her breasts spilled into his hands.

Amara fought not to be sick.

A greedy look played over Kal’s face and he eagerly took her in his mouth, suckling her nipples in turn. He was extremely thorough.

She forced herself to keep going, to move against him until his mind couldn’t think anymore, until he was too distracted to figure out her ultimate goal. Fisting his shirt in her hands, she ripped it off over his head and left a trail of kisses down his neck while her hands explored the chiseled muscles of his chest and stomach. With one hand, she ran a finger along the waistline of his jeans, dipping below the denim just to tease him. She began unbuttoning his pants with one hand while the other went to his hip. As slowly as she could, she took hold of the handle and slid the knife free of its leather casing.

Kal was too distracted with her body to notice.

Amara turned up the heat. Clasping a hand behind his neck, she guided his mouth to hers once again. His arms wrapped around her, holding her to him. “I’ve waited so long for this,” he rasped against her lips.

Mid-kiss, Amara smiled. “I know,” she replied. “And I am so glad you’re finally going to get what you deserve.” Something in the hardness of her voice must have tipped him off, but there was no time for him to react. As hard as she could, Amara slammed the handle of the knife against his temple, knocking him out cold.

She scrambled off of him, breathing hard, and the knife clattered to the floor. Immediately, she crossed her arms over her chest to conceal herself. She felt dirty, violated, and as if she had betrayed Nova even though she knew she had done it for him. Hastily, she gathered her clothes and tugged them back on, knowing full well that she would burn them the second she got home.

Once she was dressed, she knelt down next to him and locked the cuffs around his wrists. She should kill him. He had tried to kill her, Nova, even Sadie. She should kill him. But slitting his throat while he was chained to a chair felt like something he would do and she would be damned if she ever sunk to his level. Instead, she shifted him enough that she could get into his pockets and found the key to Nova’s cell.

Standing, she glared at the man who had caused her so much pain. She should feel sorry for him, she knew. If he had been anyone else, she would have. Unloved by a horrible man, he had only wanted to please his father. Instead, he had never been able to live up to the man’s expectations. The failure had warped him into something cruel and unyielding, but deep down, he was still that little boy desperate to be loved. If he had been any other man, she would have felt sorry for him.

But he wasn’t. He was this man. And even though she couldn’t do it herself in cold blood, she wanted him dead. One day, she knew, he would be. And she would dance on his grave.

“Rot in Hell, you bastard,” she growled. Then she dashed across the room and opened the door.