I CRIED AND SHOOK SO badly I could barely stand. He stood behind me, making sure I didn’t bolt, although I’d learned a long time ago that running and disobeying only caused more pain, more scars.
I looked over my shoulder at him. “Please. I’ll do better.”
He glared at me; arms crossed, a barricade against any escape. I lowered my head and then stepped into the shower, the freezing cold water instantly soaking into me.
Pain.
How could water cause so much pain? But within minutes, every inch of me was so cold it felt as if I was burning. I wrapped my arms around myself to try and control the shivering, but nothing would stop it . . . except him.
He controlled my pain and my comfort.
Finally, he nodded and I scrambled from the tub. He waited with the towel and then wrapped me in its warmth, his hands gently rubbing my arms and back.
Suddenly, it all changed and I had chains on my wrists and ankles and he was coming at me with the scorching metal rod. No. God no. My Ink. He was going to kill my Ink.
I sobbed on the floor, my foot with my Ink tucked under me. “No. No.”
Now we were at my Talde’s house and I was ten years old again; the day he took me. I was looking in on the scene as Drake and I stood together, his hand casually over my shoulder as we watched my house burn. I wasn’t crying. I was calm and accepting.
Then he said, “Let’s watch Jasper burn.”
I woke screaming.
I bolted upright in bed, my skin damp, hair stuck to my cheeks like cling wrap. The sheet was wrapped around my body like a cocoon. I panicked and scrambled out of the tangled mess, falling out of bed and landing on my knees. I knew it was just a dream but still I rubbed my wrists and ankles, making certain the shackles weren’t there.
The blanket of fear smothered me. I was that girl again, squeezing my eyes shut with a desperate plea that the imaginary world I was living was just that; imagined—it wasn’t.
Desperate.
Alone.
Scared.
I staggered over to the corner of the darkened room, the moonlight lending its hand to show me the way and sank to the floor. Bringing my knees to my chest, I wrapped my arms around them and weaved my fingers together. I was sweating but freezing cold, unable to stop the violent trembles.
The door burst open and I jerked my head up.
Jasper stood in nothing but his jeans which had obviously been hastily thrown on because they were undone and revealed the trail of sparse hair. His dagger was in his right hand, stance wide and ready as he scanned the room. Every muscle was flexed, eyes black and narrowed with brows drawn over them. There wasn’t an inch of him that didn’t look tense and ready to slice apart any that got in his path.
This was the Scar assassin. The man who had every right to be cocky as hell. A beast. Threatening and virile. A predator.
And yet, it was comforting. I took a shaky breath as he saw me sitting on the floor in the corner of the room. He lowered his arm and his shoulders sagged.
“Jesus, Max.” He kicked the door closed with the heel of his bare foot and strode toward me. He came closer and crouched in front of me. I heard the creak of his denim jeans as they stretched. He reached out and picked up a strand of damp hair and rubbed it between his fingers. Letting it go, he traced a finger down the moisture on my cheek. “You’re sweating. And crying.”
“It’s hot.”
“Bull. You have a fever? How’s the wound?” He put the back of his hand to my forehead and I shoved it away.
“It was just a dream.”
His scowl deepened and the lines around his eyes accentuated. Jasper looked primitive; every bone displaying its purpose. There was no uncertainty with the structure of his face, or his expressions. And in some sort of fucked-up way, I liked his scowl the best. It breathed emotion. “One hell of a dream to be screaming like a horde of vampires are in your room.”
I shrugged.
“Don’t fuckin’ shrug at me.”
The remnants of my dream washed away as my anger rose. “Get out, Jasper. I’m fine. Go back to your woman.”
His frown wavered for an instant and then returned full force. “It’s called a nightmare.” Whatever. “What was it about, Max?”
Crouched, arms resting on his thighs and eyes penetrating. And it wasn’t with heated smoldering desire; this was heated anger. He was pissed off. I wasn’t sure why this annoyed him so much. Because I’d woken him up? Or maybe he’d been in the middle of fucking Julianna.
“Nothing.”
“What the fuck was the nightmare about, sunshine? You haven’t had one like that in months.”
I stiffened, eyes darting to him. “What?” How would he know? I knew I had one tonight because of what was happening, but he was right. “How do you know that?”
“My job to know.”
I didn’t believe him. Had he been there? All those times I sensed him near me. Smelling his scent in my room. Feeling as if he was watching me. Had it been true? “Where were you for the last six months?”
He tensed, but after a moment, he sighed and then his face softened. “Been around. Now, what was the dream about?” He moved over to the wall beside me, sat on the floor and leaned against it. Then he stretched out his legs and crossed his ankles as if he was making himself comfortable for a long haul.
Been around? I stared for a second at his bare feet, how his nails were kept short and tidy. For some reason that didn’t surprise me . . . that he looked after himself. “Watching me?”
He ignored my question. “What was the dream about, Max?”
I think that was the second time he’d called me by my name, and despite hating myself for liking it—I did. The way it rolled off his tongue in a deep roguish sound sent tingles across my skin. “My past. Nothing unusual,” I said.
He raised his arm and then in a gentle movement, hesitant, he tucked the hair behind my ear. The second the pads of his fingers touched my face, goose bumps rose and my breath hitched. His expression softened and then he wiped the tears away with his thumb one by one. “They about whoever put those scars on you?”
My breath hitched and I looked away.
“Whoever he is . . . I’ll never let him near you.” I didn’t believe him and why should I. I was a job to him and when it ended, he would leave and those words meant nothing.
“Do you lie to all your jobs?”
It was like a light switch went off in him and suddenly he was stiff and tense. The softened expression was gone and in its place was a harsh, cold anger.
“You scream like that in the wrong place, wrong time and it’s a fuckin’ beacon. I plan to live long enough to get my job done.”
I had no misconceptions of who this man was. However, Xamien probably did. He was an assassin and killed for money. But this job was the opposite. He was getting paid to protect me. I wondered why he’d even do it? Why would an assassin take this job? It didn’t make sense.
“Do you really not know who is after me?”
“No. I wasn’t given that info.” His harsh grip on my chin slipped away and he was silent a minute. I started to get up to go back to bed when he seized my arm. “Are you going to have any more nightmares tonight?”
I shook my head. I never had more than one a night. At least that was how it had been for the last few years.
He nodded, got up, walked into the adjoining bathroom and turned on the shower. My heart stopped and a sliver of unease shifted through me. Why would Jasper do that? How did he know I had a hot shower after a nightmare? Even when we’d first met, he hadn’t known why I’d been showering at midnight.
He came back out and walked straight to me and reached out his hand. I stared at it for a second and it was a second too long because he leaned over and grabbed my arm, hauling me to my feet.
He led me into the bathroom then turned to leave.
“How did you know?” My words stopped him.
He paused and I saw the tension in his shoulders, but I wanted to see his face, because unless Xamien told him, which I was a hundred percent sure Xamien wouldn’t talk about my nightmares with anyone, then Jasper had found out some other way.
“You’re cold and sweaty. Simple deduction.”
Before I could say anything more, the bedroom door opened and I caught a glimpse of Julianna standing there wearing a red negligee that accentuated all her curves and left nothing to the imagination. I never had the need to feel jealous, but I did now. I wanted to run over to the door and slam it in her face. Better yet, grab Jasper and kiss him right in front of her.
I did neither.
“Everything okay, mon cheri?”
My chest tightened and I ground my teeth together. The tension in the room was so intense it was as if the pin on a grenade had been pulled.
“Yeah. It’s good.” Jasper strode to the door, and started to shut it, but not before I caught a glimpse of Julianna placing her hand on his arm.
I didn’t sleep the rest of the night.
Jasper strode into my room before the sun had even risen. He was properly dressed this time, hair wet and tussled, and smelling like papaya and lavender. It didn’t suit him. Jasper had a natural earthy scent—erotic.
He stopped just inside the door and briefly looked at me curled up in the rocking chair by the window. I caught the twitch of his brows lowering and the unsettled storm in his eyes. Something was off and I wondered if Julianna hadn’t satisfied him.
I’d been sitting here ever since the shower, trying to figure out my options. Jasper might not think I had options, but I did. I could’ve left last night and I was betting he would’ve been too busy fucking his French princess to realize I’d gone.
But Xamien told me to stay close to Jasper, that he’d explain everything to me, and I trusted Xamien’s judgment. I could decide what to do when I saw Xamien.
“Get dressed. We need to be on the road in five.” He walked out, leaving the door open.
A minute later, I heard the roar of the bike’s engine and then three revs. Shit. I threw on my jeans and ran to the adjoining bathroom, quickly peed and stuck a wad of toothpaste in my mouth. I slipped on my shoes, ran out the bedroom door and smacked right into sex goddess.
I should’ve politely thanked her for her hospitality and walked away. The old Max would’ve done that. But the rumble inside me from seeing Jasper walk out of my bedroom last night still simmered. My anger was directed at Jasper, but Julianna was playing me and I didn’t like it.
“Don’t think you’re special because my brother was with you last night.” I kept my voice calm and controlled.
Julianne slowly smiled, her lips pulling back to reveal her pearl white teeth. “We both know he’s not your brother.” She raised her chin and my hand curled into a fist as I imagined punching her in the nose and seeing her land on her ass, fawnlike legs in the air. “He was in my bed, not yours. And has been a number of times. That makes me special.”
I raised my brows. “Oh, didn’t you know? Specials are whatever needs to be used up before they go bad.” Her back stiffened.
“Max!” Jasper shouted.
I looked past Julianne’s shoulder and saw him standing at the other end of the hall looking all-encompassing with his stance wide, shoulders broad nearly filling the width of the hallway. I knew he’d heard me; the question was whether he heard the entire conversation. Of course he did; he was a Sounder.
“Get your ass on the bike. Now!”
Julianna snickered.
I glared at him and muttered. “Yes, sir.”
He heard me. “For fuck’s sake.” He turned on his heel and two seconds later, the front screen door slammed.
I glanced at Julianna then raised my chin and met her glare. “Thank you for your hospitality.” Then I brushed by her, followed Jasper outside, walked to his bike and climbed on. He started it up again and I put my hands on the back bar. He reached behind, grabbed both wrists and pulled them forward so my arms were around him.
Then we left Julianna’s.
It was an hour before we stopped again and it was only because I had to pee so badly. I tapped him on the shoulder when the next roadside café came into view and he pulled over and stopped. I was already off the bike and running toward the bathroom before he shut down the engine.
He caught me at the door of the diner, latching onto my wrist.
“Jesus. You have a guy after you who can Trace. Might want to remember that before you go running off? ’Cause, sunshine, no matter how good I am, I can’t fuckin’ Trace, so if he gets to you first, you’re history.”
I hesitated for a second as his words caused a tremor to shift through me. Even the word Trace reminded me of Drake.
Jasper crossed his arms, his foot holding the door open. A man and woman walked toward us, took one look at Jasper, and opted for the other door.
“I’m not scared. I want to know who is after me. It’s important I know.”
His jaw clenched. “Told you. I don’t know. He never told me. But I do know that you are scared. You’re terrified as hell of whoever put those scars on you; otherwise, you wouldn’t be having nightmares about him. Fear is eating away at you from the inside out. I can see that as clear as the fuckin’ sun.”
“Don’t think you know me, Jasper.” Because all he saw was a damaged girl with a fucked-up past and the wad of cash he’d get when the job was done. “You will never know me.”
We stood staring at one another before finally the tension in his arm holding the door relaxed. “Didn’t you have to pee?”
I did have to pee—bad. I attempted to walk away, but Jasper snagged my hand and led me up to the front counter. He chin-lifted to the waitress. “Washroom?”
She replied in Spanish and pointed toward the right of the counter. Jasper didn’t say thank you, merely pulled me behind him, slammed the flat of his palm into the door and walked inside. A girl reapplying lipstick balked at him, eyes widening. She dropped the lipstick into the sink and it clanged, swaying back and forth inside the porcelain bowl. I was getting that Jasper had that effect on girls. Whether she was shocked at a man in the ladies room or because he was currently radiating anger was debatable.
“Out,” Jasper ordered.
I was going with the anger.
The girl fumbled with her make-up bag then quickly ran by us. I was about to say something to Jasper about his rudeness but shrugged it off. Like I always said, people rarely listened to what they didn’t want to hear. Jasper certainly didn’t want to hear what I had to say, so it was a waste of breath.
He leaned up against the vanity, hands curled around the lip of the laminate counter. His brows rose as he stared at me by the door. Was he really going to stand there while I peed? This was about dignity and peeing in front of Jasper even with a closed stall door was . . . well, I wasn’t going to do it.
The tap dripped.
The shitty cigarette-stained counter creaked under his grip.
Dishes clanged in the nearby kitchen.
“Sunshine, Jesus. Have a piss.”
Shit. Double shit when he crossed his arms. There was no point asking him to wait outside; his answer would be no.
I went into the stall, slammed the door, slid the latch aside and then undid my jeans, sat and peed. When I came out, he pushed off the counter and walked to the door. I washed my hands then went to push the dryer button when he caught my wet hand with his and pulled me out of the bathroom.
“Hey, I need to dry my hands.”
He kept walking. “Blower that loud when I’m trying to listen for anyone coming . . . common sense.”
“You need lessons in basic human civility,” I muttered.
“Not human, angel.” He touched a waitress’s arm on her way past. “Two café solo’s and two rye toast with butter. To go.”
It was annoying that despite his rudeness, the woman looked at him with a dazed look and a brilliant smile. What was it about hot men getting away with being rude? If I had done that, she’d have called me a bitch and I wouldn’t have been served.
“Sure thing, sweetie,” she said with a heavy accent and a wink.
“Thanks, love.” Jasper cocked a grin.
I rolled my eyes. “How did you know that I took my coffee black?”
Jasper guided me over to a stool and I sat. “I notice things.”
“At the first diner, you told the waitress two black coffees. How did you know?” The shower. The coffee. My nightmares. He knew I ate rye toast with butter in the morning instead of the traditional sugary churros. “Jasper?”
He shrugged. “I told you I was watching Xamien’s place for a few days.”
“You got all that in a few days?” A trickle of unease tap danced across my skin.
“It’s my job, Max.”
Suddenly, everything changed in him and the tension shifted to the easygoing playboy. He had this aura about him, a magnet that awakened the molecules in my blood stream from the slow lazy river to an ocean of tidal waves.
His hand casually swept my hair away from my neck and my breath hitched. I glanced up at him while his finger traced over the nodules at the top of my spine. The butterflies fluttered, panties dampened and my heart tripled its pace.
“We need to play a role here, babe.” I thought he might let me go when his finger stopped caressing me. Instead, he leaned closer and kissed me. It was a soft kiss on the lips, but the moment our lips connected, the sparks ignited.
He deepened the kiss, his hand tightening on the back of my neck. My mouth yielded to his harsh assault of carnal fluidity. Saturated warmth of raw need broke the boundaries of what we were.
I didn’t think either of us expected it. Nothing could have prepared me to be taken by him with a power that didn’t just grab me—it changed me.
I couldn’t breathe as I swayed into him, my hands coming up to rest on his chest, fingers curling into his shirt. It was knee weakening, panty dampening and heart pounding. I should’ve pushed him away. I didn’t.
Jasper Kyelin was an overbearing, morally deficient asshole. But for that one moment when his lips took mine, he made me his. And for the first time, I felt wanted and beautiful.
Then he groaned.
And the sound broke through my moment of vulnerability. I pulled back so hard, I nearly toppled over the back of the bar stool. I would have if Jasper hadn’t still had a hold of my neck.
Our eyes locked. My lips parted as if to say something, still breathless from his kiss. I hadn’t expected it to be so potent, like a drug hitching a ride through my veins. I wasn’t stupid. I knew he wanted to fuck me and I suspected he knew I wanted him.
But I needed to stomp it down before he stomped all over me. I wasn’t being sloppy seconds to Julianna.
His fingers wove through my hair and he pulled me closer. I resisted and he scowled. “Your mouth is one hell of a place to be, sunshine. Didn’t expect that.” His grip tightened. “If there is a next time, and I suspect there will be, your mouth touches no other. Not while its playing with mine.”
Whoa, what? “A next time? Are you kidding me? There shouldn’t have been a first time. You had your lips locked on some other chick how many hours ago? No, there won’t be a next time.”
“Didn’t kiss her, Max. She kissed me and I stopped it.”
“Oh, is that one of your rules. No kissing, only fucking?” Why did it bother me if he fucked another woman? I shouldn’t care. I didn’t care. But I did.
“Didn’t fuck her either. Haven’t in years.” He quickly let me go as if I’d burned him. “We have company.”
I tensed and went to look around when his voice penetrated my mind. “Men by the door. Two of them. We’re going to walk right by them. They make a move, you head for the bike and I’ll meet you there.”
It was the first time he’d spoken to me telepathically. It was a very intimate way of communicating, as if the person was inside of you, part of you. Jasper’s voice was different, raspier and his accent was more distinguishable. But the subtleness of it made it mysterious and dark, yet with a gentleness as though he caressed me with his words. I also sensed the black hole that encased his heart.
Jasper Kyelin was more than a Scar assassin with an arrogance that warred against the Goddess who made us. Against the laws of the Scars. He had parts of him that lay hidden beneath his assholishness.
“Max,” Jasper hissed. He was trying to get my attention, hand on my arm and eyes drilling into me. “A hell of a time to be daydreaming about my kiss.”
There was a slight pressure in my head as he attempted to get past the walls around my thoughts. He’d have a while to go because living with Drake had taught me to learn how to block others out. It had taken years, but having Drake read my thoughts had set me up for more punishments because he knew exactly what I was thinking.
Jasper being a Sounder, had probably heard the two men talking and knew instantly that they were searching for me. The tension hummed in his body, the coiled up muscles ready to react. A guy like Jasper stayed alive by being vigilant and cautious.
His fingers casually played with my hair, tantalizing and sensual. Yet his attention was elsewhere. If I’d been an observer, I’d have seen a man intent on his girl, the smoldering eyes, and the closeness of bodies.
Mechanical. It felt and looked sensual, but if you looked beyond what was there, read the signs, it was mechanical. A well-oiled machine. Rhythmic. Focused. Unyielding to the threat.
This was why Jasper was paid to protect me.
“Here you go, sweetie.” The waitress plunked down the order on the counter and Jasper reached into his pocket and pulled out a few bills and tossed them on the counter. He picked up the cardboard tray with the coffees and the brown paper bag which he placed in the tray between them.
“Thanks,” he mumbled, snagged my hand, pulled me off the stool and started walking straight toward the men.
There was no hesitation in anything he did. I wondered why we didn’t go out a back door maybe through the kitchen. The men stared at us as we approached. I knew from the lack of black licorice scent that they weren’t vampires nor Long Neck Centered World Others, CWOs, who looked like they had just crawled out of a dumpster. Smelled like it too.
“What are they?”
Jasper ignored me.
He walked straight toward the men and my grip on his hand tightened. What the hell was he doing? I stared at my feet and leaned in closer to him. I hated not having my blades with me. I had no defense as a Healer.
“Excuse me,” he said to the one man who partially blocked the door with his bulk.
I held my breath. Waiting for the strike. The gunshot. Being grabbed and taken away.
Feet shifted and then we were walking past them and out the door. Jasper tossed the coffees and toast into the bin, and within seconds, we were on the bike and back on the road.
I had no idea where we were headed, but wherever it was, it was fast. Jasper never let up for a good hour. When he finally pulled onto the shoulder, it was on a quieter road where few cars passed by. He shut off the bike and I slid off. And waited. Because Jasper remained where he was, hands resting on his thighs and not saying anything.
Then he did. “You trying to get us killed?” I was standing slightly behind him so he had to turn to look at me. And fuck, it was a look. One that raised the hairs on the back of my neck and had me grinding my teeth back and forth. “Never . . .” he snagged my wrist, fingers bruising, “speak telepathically around anyone when you don’t know what the fuck they are.”
“You did.” Maybe I should’ve kept my mouth shut and just said, ‘yes, sir’ like I had done with Drake. But Jasper had split me open and I could no longer stay quiet. My fight to get back the control I used to have and the ease of living in the dark . . . it was slipping away.
Jasper had ripped down my black shield and splattered me with a spectral of colors. And despite hating him for it, with each breath I was feeling more alive than I ever had.
“From fifty feet away and I know my limits. Do you understand me?” He let me go and shook his head back and forth. “And if you say fuckin’ ‘yes, sir,’ I’ll do what I should’ve days ago and spank your ass right here on the side of the road.”
The pull upward at the corner of my mouth surprised me. He really was an asshole, but for the first time since he’d barged into my bedroom, Jasper looked and sounded worried. Yeah, it was subtle like the slight shift in the direction of the breeze, but I’d felt it when he held my wrist. The peppering of his nerves awakening under his heated skin.
Had he been worried about those men? About himself? About me? Or was it simply my imagination?
“Get on the bike.”
“Can you at least tell me where we’re going?” I knew we were meeting Xamien, but I wasn’t sure where or when.
“To France.”
“France?”
“There’s a place that’s safe for you to lay low. Xamien will meet us near there. Now, will you get on the bike?” he ground out.
Shit, he was still pissed. I threw my leg over the bike and settled in behind him. There was a time for pushing him and this wasn’t it. It wasn’t fear of him that kept me silent. It was the simple deduction that it wouldn’t have done any good. He’d been right. I shouldn’t have spoken telepathically so close to those men because if they had been rogue Scars, they’d have known instantly we were too.
“I’m sorry.”
His back stiffened and then he punched the handle bar and turned to look at me. “You didn’t know any better. It’s fine.” I knew it wasn’t, but he was trying to make me feel better and that was a first. He started the bike back up and I put my arms around him.
We rode for another hour before he pulled off onto a dirt road. We bounced along the unkempt winding path barricaded by trees on either side of us. A few minutes later, we broke into a clearing and I peered over Jasper’s shoulder.
Now, this I hadn’t expected. There was a small plane and a grass runway. A plane with wings wearing the age of time. Black spots littered across the base of the upper wing and what appeared like rust speckled the propeller on the front.
Jasper pulled up beside it and we dismounted his bike.
“A plane?”
The right corner of Jasper’s mouth curled upward and his eyes brightened. “Meet Fiona.”
“Fiona?”
The anger had washed away and it was the playful Jasper again. “My plane.”
“Yeah, I got that. But Fiona needs a facelift. Maybe even a new Fiona.”
Jasper chuckled. “She’s never let me down. I trust her.”
I don’t. “Are there parachutes in the plane? Helmets? Fire protection suits?”
He burst out laughing and the sound sank into me, sparking heat from the tips of my fingers straight down to my toes. It was obvious from the lightness in him that Fiona was his pride and joy. I was surprised Jasper had a pride and joy as I had the impression there was nothing he cared about.
I did wonder who she was named after. I’d never really been curious about anyone. Didn’t care to. But I wanted to know how Jasper came to be the way he was. Why he lived without ties to anyone. Why he killed for money. He couldn’t have always been like this.
I watched him stride over to the plane, his arm reaching up then his fingers running along the edge of the wing. It was a caress, soft and gentle like he was stroking the curve of a woman’s side. I stared, my pulse spiking, imagining it was me he was caressing.
His hand smacked the metal and I jolted.
A machine. Nothing that could love him back. Something he could easily destroy if he needed to. No attachment.
And it could be argued that I had no attachments either, but I had my reasons. The question was . . . what were Jasper’s?
I heard the roar of another bike and glanced at Jasper who was now in front of the plane checking the rusted propeller. I quickly flipped open the saddlebag and took out my blades, one in each hand. I backed toward Fiona, keeping my eyes on the direction of the sound of the bike. Had those men followed us? No, there would be two bikes or a car.
I kept backing up until I bumped into something hard—Jasper. His hands slid down my arms to cover my hands on the blades at my sides. “Planning on cutting up my plane, sunshine?”
I nodded to the tree-covered area where we had come from. “Someone’s coming.”
I shuddered when his breath drifted across the lobe of my ear. “Damien. And I’d advise not fucking with him. He’s still pissed off at the female race.”
Damien and Xamien were brothers and nothing alike. Damien’s nickname was ‘women hater,’ he was impatient and volatile and had one hell of an attitude. He lived as a Solitary in Florida and used to be called into assist a Talde when needed. That changed. Now, he hunted a girl—Abby.
Damien hopped off his bike, not a cruising bike like Jasper’s, but a red racing bike, and strode toward us.
Jasper leaned into me. “Feel free to use ‘yes, sir.’”
I jabbed my elbow back into his abdomen and hit solid mass. He’d been ready for it.
Damien stopped in front of us, legs braced, arms crossed and not a sliver of the man I’d encountered a number of months ago. His eyes were like looking into muddy water, unable to see what was beneath the surface. Damien looked as I had at one time . . . void of emotion. Living and breathing, but only in the mechanical sense.
There was no hand shake, slap on the back, how are you, formalities between the men. Right to the point.
Jasper threw him his keys. “If we’re lucky, they’ll follow you,” Jasper said. “I suggest going South. You have a chick to ride on the back?”
Damien nodded. “Yeah. Down the road. Anything else?”
Jasper shrugged. “Run by Adrian’s and see how he’s doing?”
“Fuck you,” Damien muttered then shook his head. I was wondering what the big deal was when he said, “I’m not falling for that again. Fuckin’ bullet hurt like hell.”
Jasper chuckled then gestured with a head tilt toward me. “She shot me in the thigh.”
Damien’s brows lifted. “Did you not get her off after you fucked her?”
I snorted. “Jesus, I’m standing right here.”
Jasper, whose hands still rested on top of mine that held my blades, tightened. “Don’t worry sunshine. I’d never do that to you. My women come first—literally.”
This time, I slammed my heel onto the bridge of his foot.
He grunted then let me go, but I heard the subtle chuckle follow me. “Luckily, she’s a Healer. Unluckily, she has an attitude.” I pulled away from him and turned my back, pretending to admire the rust bucket Fiona while I listened to their conversation. “Any leads on Abby?”
“No,” Damien said.
“You look into what I asked?”
“Yeah. Sounds like it might be him and if it is . . . more than you can deal with.” Were they talking about Abby or me? “Might want to . . . end this. Odds aren’t in your favor on this one.”
Silence.
I looked over my shoulder at them. Jasper had his head down, arms crossed and back stiff. Damien stood braced, arms at his sides and was looking at me with his shadowy eyes.
“No,” Jasper said.
Damien’s gaze jerked back to Jasper. “You invested?”
“You know me better than that. Just don’t like losing.”
Damien looked at me again and his penetrating gaze hesitated on my arms—my scars. I shifted uneasily and rubbed my arms, not liking how intensely he was staring at me.
“Don’t let her fool you. They’re all cruel bitches,” Damien said and then turned on his heel and strode to Jasper’s bike. He unhooked the saddlebag and tossed it toward us.
What the hell did he mean by that?
“Come on, sunshine. Let’s get Fiona in the air.” Jasper tapped the wing with his fist twice then grabbed his bag.
The roar of the bike started and I watched as Damien disappeared behind the cover of the trees. “What was that about?”
“Nothing. Let’s go.”
I wasn’t so sure about whether Fiona would go anywhere. Did he know what he was doing? It wasn’t like I was scared of flying or dying, but my choice of deaths wouldn’t be a fiery spinning nose dive into the ground.
“Angel. Ass. Here. Now.”
Jasper was already at the top of the stairs.
I climbed up, following him into the cockpit and squished between the seats. I sat in the seat beside him and fastened my seatbelt. He flicked switches then placed a headset on and began speaking to someone.
The engine spurted and the propellers groaned a few times before they suddenly spun. Jasper grinned. “That’s it, baby.” Slowly the plane jerked forward and I watched the propellers out the side window spinning. I was surprised I didn’t see the rust flicking off into the air.
Jasper put his hand on my thigh and I looked at him. He wore a cocky grin and his eyes twinkled as if he knew something I didn’t. “Not going to ask for my qualifications?”
I shrugged. I suspected Jasper wouldn’t do something as stupid as fly a Cessna without being damn good at it. Actually, Jasper seemed the type to be damn good at everything he put his mind to—including, he claimed, sex.
Jasper chuckled shaking his head. “Think I’m going to like hearing you scream and writhe beneath me.” I stiffened, wondering if he’d read my thoughts. But that was impossible. I’d feel it and my shields around my mind were intact. “Tilting your world on its axis with my cock inside you . . . seeing your eyes fill with desire. Angel, that fake blasé attitude won’t be touching you when I’m inside.”
I crossed my arms, more to keep my heart from leaping through my ribcage than anything else. Just the thought of Jasper inside me was catapulting me through a maze of emotions.
The plane started down the grass field and my emotions were taking flight at the same time as I watched Jasper easily maneuver the plane into the air at a steep angle.
He looked completely at ease, his face relaxed, muscles flexed, but not with tension. No, Jasper exuded so much confidence in his stature I didn’t think he was capable of vulnerability.
Waleron had that same confidence, sure of himself, fearless and stoic, yet he carried it differently. The Taldeburu had a stern intensity about him. I’d experienced it intimately when I’d placed my hands on him to try and calm his Ink. The unyielding power that lay beneath his skin was a powerful turmoil, swirling like an out-of-control hurricane ready to sweep up anyone in its path.
But Jasper, he was different. I had trouble reading him. He had no morals. What did that mean? How far would he go to get what he wanted? Did he kill innocent people? Would he betray a Scar? On the outside, Jasper was arrogant and self-assured with an unbending no-bullshit attitude. But I was yearning to know what was beneath.
What made him an assassin? What made him this way? Because we were all a product of our past; it was just how we lived with what we experienced that shaped us into who we became.
I glanced over at him as he spoke to someone over his headset—and it wasn’t in English. He scowled then said a few sharp words before his hands tightened around the controls. He suddenly moved his mouthpiece away and looked at me.
The heat in my cheeks came to life at being caught staring at him.
He threw off his headset. “See something you like?”
I’d spent years keeping quiet, and I’d learned to appreciate it. The less said the better, but with Jasper, I was having trouble keeping my mouth shut. He pushed my buttons and I wanted to push his back.
“Nothing I haven’t seen before.” I shrugged and peered out the side window. “I live with Xamien remember.” Xamien was one of the most attractive men I’d ever seen—worldly with a casual air about him. I also thought of him more as a father figure than a man I’d ever be interested in. “Nothing unusual in my world.”
“Your world?” Jasper scoffed. “Your world consists of Xamien and his butler guy, Glunk, about one-hundred acres and a manor. You, Miss Sunshine, haven’t even experienced a teacup of the world.”
I tensed, hands gripping into the leather armrests. A teacup? Did he just compare my life to a teacup? “At least in my ‘teacup’ I have morals and can sleep at night.”
“Oh, I sleep just fine.” His voice was low and soft as he said, “Can you, Max?”
My breath hitched and my gaze jerked to his.
“Why do you have to be such an asshole?”
“Because you’re cute when you get riled.” His mouth twitched at the corners.
Bastard. He liked this. He liked getting a rise out of me. He was enjoying seeing me stutter and thrown off balance. Well, I may not have his experience, but I did know what a man liked and what would throw him off.
I slowly ran my tongue over my upper lip.
Twitch gone.
I caressed the silver chain at the base of my throat.
His brows lowered as he watched me.
Then I bit my bottom lip and slowly dragged my teeth over it.
His lips pursed together and shifted in his seat.
Game over.
Now, I was taking control.