Grievous (Wanted Men Book 5) (36 page)

♦ ♦ ♦

After doing up his pants, Lucian freed his wrung out pet and lifted her into his arms, the note of longing in her voice when she’d shouted his name minutes ago still ringing in his ears. She was warm and relaxed, her breathing even as she rested after her first round of punishment. Tomorrow he would introduce her to edging. From one extreme to the other. Which would be worse for her?

He paused for a moment when his focus unexpectedly centered on her heartbeat that he could feel against his chest. It was so…slight. Almost a flutter rather than a solid beat like his. He propped his foot on the base of his cross and sat her on his knee to free up his hand that he laid flat beneath her left breast.

He let his head fall forward to rest it against hers as the steady little thump soothed him. It reminded him of when he’d pressed his fingers to Markus’s pulse at the morgue and he’d felt nothing. He closed his eyes.
I didn’t kill him, Markus
, he said silently.
You can thank my pet for that. She is an effective distraction.
He swallowed the knot that lodged in his throat.
I am sorry I did not bring you into the gallery the day you followed me there. You wanted to meet her because you somehow knew she meant something to me, and I shut you down.

He straightened suddenly enough for Yasmeen to throw her arms around his neck.

“I have you,” he murmured with a kiss to her hair.

As he left the room, stopping down the hall to get a blanket to cover her nakedness, he realized something. He’d kept Markus away from Yasmeen the same way Markus had kept Lucian away from Claude. He’d shut out the one person he loved more deeply than any other. He hadn’t trusted his own brother enough to reveal his unhealthy obsession with his pet. Had Markus been punishing him by doing the same? Trying to teach Lucian a lesson in that subtle way he had?

Only Sergei had stolen him before the lesson could be complete. What would the conclusion have been?

He pondered that as he walked through the castle at a leisurely pace. When he reached the foyer, he wasn’t surprised to see Sorin standing in the doorway of the sitting room.

“You disconnected the security feed.” The accusation in his voice was layered under a grudging respect.

“I knew it would not take much for you to get back in. I am glad you were not in the cold for very long.”

“Your office?”

“Is fine.”

“Ms. Michaels?”

She lifted her head to give Sorin an appreciative little smile. “We’re nifty, meathead. Thanks for having my back. If I can ever return the favor, you know I will.” Her drowsy wink and loyal offer blindsided Lucian.

For a long moment, he looked down at the top of her head when she tucked it into his shoulder again, then met his friend’s eyes. “I see her,” he assured Sorin in their language.

Apparently, that was all their protector had wanted because the tension left him as if the air had been let out of a balloon. “Christ Almighty,” he puffed before nailing Lucian in the chest with a heartfelt, “Welcome back, my friend.”

Do I really have to learn this lesson, Markus?
he asked his brother silently as panic clawed at him. He didn’t get an answer, but he inclined his head and cemented Sorin’s place in his life once more. “Thank you, brother,” he murmured, holding that dark stare to let this man know he also saw him for who and what he was.

It was Sorin who turned away with a hard scrub down his face. Lucian heard him stomp through the sitting room and slam through the door which would lead him to the gym.

His lips were curved at the corners as he climbed the stairs. He brought Yasmeen directly into the bathroom when he reached their room and bathed them both before feeding her the light snack of fresh cut vegetables and hummus Sorin must have brought up earlier. Then he tucked them into bed.

As his pet curled against him, her long leg winding through his as if to ensnare him, he knew there was no way she couldn’t feel his heart racing. The erratic rhythm was something normally reserved for a man about to jump from a great height.

She fell instantly asleep, but he laid there staring up at the ceiling while sifting his fingers through her silky locks. For the first time in his life, for Markus, he hesitantly took that step up to teeter right on the very edge of life. As something inside him waited, seeking his brother’s approval, he looked into the familiar darkness in the abyss below…and felt fear. How did one deal with such an emasculating emotion?

He had no idea, so, as he’d done all his life, he buried it in a grave already overflowing with possibilities, and fell into a fitful sleep. In his dreams were faceless enemies mocking a solitary figure too overcome with uncertainty to allow even a portion of happiness into his heart.

All Yasmeen could think as death came for her was she should have known better.

She should have known he’d lied about wanting her. She should have known the soft tones and gentle touches after his tantrum couldn’t be trusted. It had all been about Lucian luring her deeper and deeper into his web. She should have known better.

But she hadn’t, so, when she’d seen him alone in the hot spring that used to be the moat, she hadn’t hesitated to undress and join him. They’d swam naked, intertwined in each other’s arms. He’d been kissing her so tenderly. Until something changed and he’d come on so strong he’d begun stealing her breath.

Now he was setting her away from him, watching her float away with that vacant expression on his face that she hated. She kicked her legs as her head went under and her arms began to flail. She was paying the price for trusting him. She couldn’t swim, and he was already too far away to help keep her afloat. The water closed over her again, and she kicked harder to break through the surface. He’d promised. He’d promised only days ago never to let her drift beyond his reach. He’d promised.

He’d lied.

But she would forgive him. She knew she would, if only he would make an effort to save her.

She watched his beautiful form disappear as she went under for the last time. The water was dark but hot. So hot. Heavy. Suffocating. And it hurt. Her throat was aching as if it was about to be crushed from the pressure closing in. Her lungs were flaming. About to explode. She kicked and clawed at her throat, panicking worse than ever…

Yasmeen’s eyes flew open. Lucian was on top of her, his face a mask of malevolence that would have had her running for her life had she’d been able to get away. She couldn’t. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get him off her, and she couldn’t loosen the hold he had around her throat. Her collar was cutting into her skin.

“Stop,” she tried to say. “Lucian…stop.” But he didn’t.

It was funny. As weakness settled in and her limbs grew too heavy to lift, her last thought before leaving her lover wasn’t about her dying, but about how he would live with the knowledge that he’d killed her.

♦ ♦ ♦

I stood over him and smiled as he bled to death.

Lucian squeezed Sergei’s neck tighter and waited for that final breath to pass through his lips.

He called for you. Over and over he called out for his brother. Where were you, Fane?

This man had to die. Lucian couldn’t keep him alive as he’d wanted to. He couldn’t hear these things and survive his failure.

Where were you when he needed you most? You abandoned him. You gave in too easily, and you allowed me to get to him. Thanks for that.

Why was he still hearing that voice, the Russian accent, when he could barely feel a pulse anymore? How was it possible those damaging words could still reach him when not a slip of air could get into the man’s lungs around Lucian’s tight grip.

Lucian. Stop.

The sound of Markus’s voice in his head gave him such a jolt it shattered the nightmare and dislodged him from where he’d been lying on top of Yasmeen.

He stared in disbelief, his lung shearing through his harsh breaths. He hadn’t been choking Sergei in the nightmare that just wouldn’t end. He’d been taking the life of his precious pet in the cocoon he’d imprisoned her in to ensure her safety.

“Yasmeen,” he whispered, terrified at how still she was. He reached out and splayed his hands on her chest, inching them up. Markus’s still pulse came to him again, causing him to shuddered with terror. “Please,
iubita mea
. Don’t leave me.” His fingers found that spot…

The light, sluggish flutter was a gift from God that he vowed right then not to waste.

He snapped her up and was out the door in a blink. He raced through the corridors until he reached the small sickbay that was slightly larger than a doctor’s office. It wasn’t equipped to perform surgery, but it had what Lucian required.

He brought her to the examination table and laid her out without looking at the blue line around her lips that made him want to rage. He grabbed the mask, twisted the knob on the tank, and brought the life-giving oxygen to his pet’s mouth and nose.

“Breathe. Take it in and open your eyes. Allow me to fix this.” His chest clamped tight at the knowledge of what he was about to do. He disregarded it and the ferocious feelings of possession rising like an enraged army inside him.

She belongs to us.

His demons were angry. As usual, he paid no attention to what he didn’t want to deal with.

She belongs to us!
they roared, refusing to be ignored.

I know
. He couldn’t deny it, so he didn’t try.

They settled back after his acknowledgement, not knowing it wouldn’t change anything.

“Yasmeen. Wake up, my pet. Wake up, please, I beg of you.”

Apparently, she’d been waiting to hear him plead with her because that’s when she coughed and did as he demanded. Her lids lifted to show him a window to the loneliest soul he’d ever encountered.

“Very good. Just breathe. Do not sit up yet.” He held her down with a hand on her navel. “Let me give you what I took. Just breathe.”

She blinked slowly, sleepily, and held their connection. He didn’t look away. He took what he could while he could. She slipped her hand in his and something inside him rumbled and shook as if a small earthquake was taking place. The plates of his protective shell shifted, allowing minuscule pockets of steam to release.

After a few long minutes, she lifted her free hand and took the mask away. “I’m okay.”

“I do not know what to say. I am sorry is worthless and insulting in comparison to what I wish to convey.” He was sickened to the bone when he saw his hand-marks darkening around her neck, becoming permanent reminders that wouldn’t fade for days, maybe weeks. His study narrowed, focusing on something, and he reached out to lift her collar…

“Oh,
iubita mea
, what did I do to you?”

The edge of the platinum collar had cut into her skin to form a perfect ring that was beading with blood now that he’d removed it.

“Nothing. It was an accident. I’m okay.”

He was shaking his head, and he didn’t know if she was reacting to him or if it was her own thoughts, but she began to look afraid.

“No, it is far from okay,” he said. “What do I say to this?” How could he make her understand the scope of his regret?

She sat up and hugged him. “We’re good. Seriously. You don’t have to say anything.” Her voice was raw. “I can see it in your eyes. You don’t have to say anything, baby. I see it.” She held him tighter, offering comfort only minutes after he’d almost killed her.

He banded his arms around her. “You were Sergei. You were Sergei in my mind, and you were taunting me for leaving Markus an easy target for him. I…I had to silence him.” He would have woken next to her corpse.

She ran her fingers through his hair. “Well, I’m just glad it wasn’t my snoring that finally got to you.”

Her immediate forgiveness wasn’t right. Nor was her attempt to lighten the atmosphere with humor. “Would you like me to call a doctor? Do you feel—”

“I feel fine. Wide awake, actually.”

“That would be the oxygen,” he murmured as he pulled back and scrutinized her pale face. Why had he never considered he might be a threat to her? “Yasm—”

“Yeah, of course. The oxygen.” She kissed him to prevent him from finishing, then slid off the table.

“Yasmeen. Why are you not acknowledging what I have done?”

She came up on her toes and kissed him again. “We did acknowledge it. It was just one of those things, and now it’s over. Will you feed me? I’m starving.”

She yanked him into motion, pulling him along, looking back at him when she didn’t know which way to go because, to his knowledge, she’d never been in this area of the castle before. “It is not that simple,” he insisted.

“Sure it is.” She smiled at him over her shoulder as they entered the dark kitchen. Her eyes looked bruised. “Don’t tell me you’re going to over-analyze this. What’s the point? Like I said, it’s over. Let’s move on.”

He was afraid she was right. It was over, and it was time to move on.

She flicked a switch that lit up the track of lights above the stove. “Since no one is here, will you let me cook for you?” The hopeful look she gave him when she turned branded itself into his heart.