Dead Ink: A Karma World Romance (Karma Series Book 4) (12 page)

Lars tucked her in to his body until she felt surrounded by him. She didn’t have the energy to keep fighting. She wasn’t sure exactly what Lars was trying to do but it didn’t matter. All her energy was being sapped by the image of Arthur, dead and mutilated.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he said.

“He was my brother, and now he’s dead because he was related to me.” She hated crying. Always had. She resented the unwanted tears that sporadically escaped and drifted down. She ran her sleeve across her face, eliminating the evidence, only to have to do it again and again. Then they were picking up steam and her body started to shudder.

Through her crying she heard Lars whisper strange words that were lyrical in nature and a language she’d never heard. The tension and fright she’d felt constantly over the last two weeks, culminating at this moment, seemed to be easing from her. Her body felt heavier and she relaxed into him, letting her head completely rest in the crook of his neck. She breathed in his clean scent. He was so warm and she felt so cold.

“That’s it, just relax.” His voice was soothing as his hand ran over her hair repeatedly and then trailed down her spine, pulling her in closer to him as it did.

“Are you doing something to me?” The pain was fading, the hurt and worry, as if she’d merely shrugged them off like a bad chill that he was warming. Logic dictated that he must be doing something to her but she couldn’t muster up any alarm. She felt as incapable of worry.

“Nothing bad,” he said, and she could feel his voice vibrate through his chest where her body was pressed against him. Each sweep of his hand down her back lulled her deeper into bliss. She couldn’t remember feeling this content and secure since she’d been a child, and maybe not even then.

“Lars?”

She heard Cutty’s voice yell out to him from the main room.

“Gimme a minute,” Lars replied.

Lars rose, lifting her with him as he stood. She wrapped her arms around his neck as if it were completely natural, like she belonged with him. Faith knew this might appear strange to Cutty but she simply didn’t care. Didn’t feel the need to try and stand, or even worry about where they were heading, as he walked in the other room, carrying her with him. 

Cutty looked at her and she nodded. “Hi, Cutty.”

“Hi,” he said, sounding not nearly as cordial as her. “Lars? Why does she look all fucked up?”

“I think I am,” Faith responded. “I think he did something to me.”

“Come upstairs,” was the only answer Lars gave.

They climbed the stairs to Lars’ place and she felt the bed underneath her.

“Rest,” Lars said as he tucked the covers around her.

She nodded. “Sure. That sounds good.”

***

Cutty looked over to the bed as he stood beside Lars at the opposite end of the apartment from where Faith was sleeping.

“We won’t wake her. She’ll be out of it for a while,” Lars told him, seeing the concern in his gaze.

Cutty took a few steps away from Lars and then took another one back to him, as if he were torn about something. “Tell me you didn’t do what I think you did? Tell me this was something else.”

Lars crossed his arms, feet shoulder width apart. “I can’t. This is exactly what you think it is.” And he’d do it again. He had no regrets, or at least not yet. He wouldn’t rule out the possibility that they wouldn’t come slamming back at him.

“That’s fucking creepy.” Cutty looked over at Faith and did a little shudder.

“You didn’t see what she was like,” Lars snapped back.

“If she wasn’t dying, I stand by what I said. It’s. Fucking. Creepy. You said you didn’t do that shit anymore.”

“I don’t. It was a one-time thing.”

Cutty took another couple steps away from Lars, as if he needed to get a better visual on him. His eyes squinted and he shook his head. “She’s got you all twisted, worse than I even realized if you’re doing this crap.” He kept shaking his head as if he still didn’t believe what he was seeing.

“No. She doesn’t. I did what the situation required.” Lars dropped his arms to his side and shrugged off Cutty’s words, even as the first seed of doubt started to plant itself. But he’d had to do it. “I was stuck with her. What else was I supposed to do?”

“Walk out, like you always do when some chick is having a meltdown, and then send me in after?”

Lars walked away from him and went to the fridge and grabbed a beer. He offered one to Cutty.

“Beer ain’t cutting it for me. You know that.” Cutty reached into his cabinet and grabbed a bottle of Cutty Sark whiskey, which he was so fond of that it had become his nickname after he quit the agency.

“I didn’t have time. You didn’t see what she was like. She was going to crack.” Or was he the one cracking? He took a long swig of the bitter brew, trying to erase the caramel flavor that using the death voice always left, not because it was unpleasant but because it was too tempting. It was exactly the way he remembered, addictive as ever. The beer seemed to accentuate the taste of the voice and Lars motioned a hand towards the bottle of whiskey. Cutty poured him a glass. Lars took a sip and let it sit on his taste buds, hoping to burn off the other taste.

“I’ve seen some serious messes you’ve left me to clean up. Don’t tell me she was worse than some of those. Don’t give me that bullshit. You haven’t done that kind of mojo since you left the agency. You’ve never said why you stopped doing it but I know there’s a good reason.”

Finding some relief, Lars took another sip of whiskey and leaned against the counter, not wanting to discuss why he stopped using most of his talents and the urges that came with them to take a life.

“Drop it. We’ve got bigger problems.” Lars didn’t need someone else telling him what he already knew. “Did you find that kid or, more importantly, pick up any lead on Keith?”

“I found the kid. He was a waste of time. Some loser just looking to score a couple of bucks to get high. A man meeting Keith’s description had gotten to him a few blocks away but he was long gone. What happened here that had her so freaked out that you needed to do that?” Cutty jerked his thumb toward where Faith was across the room, the irritation still thick at the mention of it.

“Drop it, will you?”

Cutty refilled his own glass and then leaned against the counter near Lars. When he started talking again, some of the edge was gone from his voice. “You going to tell me what happened before you…?” He made a circular motion near his head, indicating how he’d screwed with Faith’s mind.

“You mean besides receiving the bloody possessions of dead family members?” Lars said. “A package got delivered today. It was her brother’s ring covered in dried blood. It smelled suspiciously like the blood the other day in your guest room. We looked up the guy’s name. There were pictures of his mutilated body leaked online. It looked like they’d had a field day with him.”

“So, the blood that was on my ceiling?” Cutty made a sour face. “The shit dripping down on her?”

“Was probably her brother’s,” Lars added. “And don’t tell her. She’s already a mess. Let her think it was pig’s blood or something.”

“You think she’s not going to put that together? Really?” Cutty did a subtle shake of his head and took another sip of whiskey like he was the one with a taste in his mouth he couldn’t get rid of.

Lars’ eyes shot over to where Faith was snuggled deep in his covers, in his bed, only her small face peeking out as if he needed to reassure himself she was safe.

“Maybe you should just fuck her, already. It’s obvious you want to,” Cutty said, following Lars’ line of vision.

He pulled his eyes back to Cutty. “I don’t know…” Lars’ words trailed off as he looked at Faith, alarmed at what might happen if he did act upon his desires. But what if it would get him to stop thinking about her? “Maybe,” he said, after they’d both been standing there a minute or so in silence. Hell, who was he kidding? It was going to happen.

Cutty was right. He’d crossed a line today that he’d never thought he would. He had to get this strange fascination with her out of his system or he’d be useless to everyone. Might as well just do it. He’d sleep with her, and she’d be like all the other chicks he’d slept with. He’d be back to normal. “On to bigger issues, we should probably get everyone up to speed. Can you get the guys downstairs in an hour?”

“Not a problem. What are you gonna…never mind. I’ve got enough headaches with Fate, Karma and the world falling to freaking pieces around us and you doing the
walk-to-your-death-all-nice-and-happy
voice.” He put his glass down and walked toward the door. “I don’t need any more info.”

“Real nice. It was your suggestion and now you’re cutting all responsibility?”

“Don’t act like I’m the actual reason it’s going to happen.” Cutty waved a hand, as if trying to disassociate himself with whatever was going on between Lars and Faith. “See you in a little bit.” He shot a final look toward Faith before he walked out of the apartment.

Cutty shut the door, leaving Lars and Faith alone.

Lars crossed the room to where she lay in the center of his large bed, curled on her side and hugging the corner of the blanket to her. Her hair was covering almost the entire pillow her head rested on.

He never held back and here was someone he wanted to sleep with more than any woman he’d ever met. And he knew she wanted him as well. Why not?

Cutty was right. He was going to sleep with her sooner or later but he wouldn’t do it right now. Not when she was like this. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t once she was more aware.

He yanked his shirt over his head but left his jeans on. Just because he wasn’t going to do it now didn’t mean they couldn’t get a bit more acquainted with each other. He eased in beside her, pulling the covers over them both. With an arm around her waist, he pulled her closer to him, fitting her back to his front and wedged a leg in between hers. A contented feeling slipped over him just from lying beside her.

“What are you doing?” she asked. He knew his chant was still clinging strong to her psyche by the calm tone of her voice and years of past experience. People sounded different when they were under the influence of his talents, and he’d laid it on pretty thick. It hadn’t been intentional. He hadn’t used it in a long time and had let it slip out a bit too strongly as a consequence. It would take a while longer for her to come out of it.

“Keeping you warm?” he asked.

When he’d climbed into bed with her, he’d known she’d remain relaxed. He knew she didn’t have a worry in the world right now. He’d been very good at walking a resistant soul toward their death. His talents were underutilized in a situation such as this.

But he didn’t expect what she did next. She arched against him and then turned toward him, still in his embrace. Her lips were parted as she slid her hands up his chest and then ran one into his hair. She tilted her face to him, with lips parted.

He reacted instinctively, taking what she had to offer and then some. He flipped her onto her back, his rock-hard dick pressed snug between her legs. Resting his weight on one forearm near her head, he plunged his tongue into her mouth and she sucked on it in a way that made him think of having her sweet lips wrapped around other parts of his anatomy.

With his other hand he yanked up her shirt. A flimsy white lace bra cupped her perfect breasts, causing a slight unease to clench at his gut. One of the guys had picked that out for her, maybe imagined her in it. The thought of it spurred him on from the small taste of what she was offering to something more, as if he needed to brand her as his.

He tugged at the button on the jeans she was wearing and then pushed them down off her hips with her panties. His fingers, first one, than two entered her and his desire grew even deeper when he felt how wet she was for him.

Even in her relaxed state, her hands were frenzied as they unzipped his jeans. When he felt her fingers wrap around his hard cock and the other hand cupping his balls, he knew he needed to pull back or this wouldn’t end here.

She’d just discovered her brother was dead and although what he’d done to her wouldn’t cause her to desire him, it lowered inhibitions in a similar way to if she were drunk. She might want this but if she were in a normal state of mind, she might not act upon it.

He pulled his mouth away, leaning up on his forearms, which only made him press more firmly to the juncture between her legs. She let out a low soft moan that told him it was exactly what she wanted as well. Her legs wrapped around his hips as she arched off the bed. Her hands went to his shoulders, trying to bring his lips back to hers. Her face flushed and lips parted, and pulling away was the hardest thing he’d done in a long while.

He paused. She was clinging to him. Would it really be that wrong? She was practically writhing under him and the desire she was feeling was pure lust, conjured up by her alone. Nothing induced there.

Eyes half lidded with lust…or half out of it because of what he’d done?

He rolled off her, hearing a soft sigh of disappointment as he did. He headed straight for a cold shower before she could say or do anything else that would have him throwing his good intentions straight to hell.