Immortally Theirs [Legends & Myths] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (14 page)

A panicked yell ripped from his throat. “Where the hell is she?”

“Oh, dear God.” Stefan spun at the sound of Christian’s stricken voice.

A note had been taped to the bedroom door. Stefan hadn’t even noticed it as he had sprinted into the room. Christian ripped the note off the door and then turned and raced back down the corridor. Stefan stayed on his heels as they practically flew down the staircase and then hurtled out the front door and through the courtyard. The cab driver hadn’t pulled away yet.

Christian yanked open the rear door and threw himself inside. “We need you to take us somewhere else. It’s an emergency.”

The cab driver shrugged. “Sure. Where you headin’?”

“The Fountain of Youth.” Christian glanced at Stefan and handed him the note he still clutched.

Stefan took the note and read it. His heart felt as though it sank into his gut with every word. Claire had changed the plan.

Claire sat in the back of the cab, wringing her hands and hoping she hadn’t just signed her death sentence. She laughed nervously. What was she thinking? Of
course
she’d signed her own death sentence. That had been the whole point of this plan. It was the one way she could ensure that both she and Mark died tonight. She had needed to make sure that she put enough distance between her and the brothers to give Mark the few minutes it would take to kill her. She just hoped hers wasn’t a permanent death.

She turned and looked out the rear window of the cab. The black SUV, obviously a rental car, was still following behind them. She had seen Mark run to it when her cab had pulled away from the curb. Her stomach lurched at the thought of what was coming, but she’d set this plan in motion and would have to see it through.

As soon as she’d told Stefan and Christian good-bye and had gone back into the house, she’d raced upstairs. She had taped the note she’d written earlier to Christian’s bedroom door and then grabbed the small water bottle she had already prepared. By the time she had run back downstairs, the cab she’d reserved this morning waited for her at the curb. Mark stood several hundred yards down the sidewalk, waiting to see what was happening.

She fingered the small bottle that she’d stuffed in the front pocket of her baggy shorts, needing the reassurance that it was still there. Without it, this night would not turn out well.

“Miss?” The cab driver glanced back at her in the rearview mirror. “You know the Fountain of Youth is closed tonight, right?”

“Um, yeah. I know. But I’m meeting someone at the entrance. Just let me out up front.”

The cab driver shrugged. Claire glanced back behind them again. Mark’s black rental car was several cars behind them, but she could still see it. The cab turned right and then drove down the treelined street in front of the Fountain of Youth Archeological Park. Spanish moss hung from branches that arched across the expanse of the street. It created an eeriness that Claire thought was appropriate, considering the circumstances.

The car stopped at the front entrance to the park and Claire threw a twenty dollar bill at the driver, knowing that would be more than enough to cover the fare. She wrenched the car door open and hurled herself out of the vehicle. She needed a head start, since Mark could run faster than she could. The cab pulled away and she looked down the street. Mark’s SUV rounded the corner.

Claire ran to the wall to the right of the front gate. It wasn’t very high, just as she’d remembered from her trip here a few days ago. She could easily reach the top of the wall, but it was constructed out of oyster shells, with their sharp points and edges sticking out at all angles. She pulled herself up the wall, ignoring the pain from the bone in her left arm. The deep cuts on her arms and legs as the oyster shells dug into her exposed flesh were harder to ignore, but she gritted her teeth and muscled through the pain. Just as she hoisted herself up and over the wall, Mark’s headlights illuminated the night around her. She jumped down off the wall and pain shot up her right leg. Cringing and fighting back sobs, she really hoped Mark rotted in hell after tonight.

Her hand went to her pocket and she breathed a sigh of relief. The water bottle was still tucked deep inside her pocket. She took off running across the empty parking lot as fast as she could. The slamming of a car door sounded behind her. She didn’t have much time, but she knew where she was going. She prayed Christian and Stefan were on their way. She needed them to take care of Mark before he had time to leave.

She didn’t bother following the path, but raced across the middle of the lawn and through the shrubbery beds, disturbing the resident peacocks as she ran. She thought she could hear heavy footfalls behind her, but she didn’t dare look back for fear it would slow her down or she’d trip. Her leg ached horribly and she could feel blood oozing down her arms and legs, but she could see her destination. She closed the remaining distance and raced through the archway into the grotto of the legendary fountain.

She spun toward the door, certain now that she could hear Mark’s footsteps as he chased her. She pulled the bottle out of her pocket and fumbled with the lid, trying to get it open. Dammit, why had she screwed the lid on so tight?

“Hello, Claire.” She jumped as Mark walked into the grotto, his voice as calm as death.

The lid finally came off the bottle and she raised it with a shaking hand as Mark approached her. Just as she pressed her lips to the bottle, Mark swung his arm and hit her across her face. The open bottle flew out of her hand and landed on the ground a few yards away. Despite the pain exploding in her face, she dove for the bottle, her one consuming thought to reach it.

Mark kicked his leg out and landed a blow in the middle of her right thigh. She heard the snap and cried out in pain, knowing Mark had broken the bone that had never healed well since the last time he’d broken it. She crumpled to the ground, but her focus never left the bottle that had rolled into a dark corner, spilling its precious contents across the dusty ground. She didn’t even know if there was any water left in it. She just knew she had to get to it, that without it she would never see Christian and Stefan again. She dragged her useless leg and crawled across the ground. She got to within a few inches of the bottle and stretched out to reach for it, but Mark grabbed the ankle of her injured leg and yanked it. She fought through the blinding pain and her fingernails raked the ground as she tried to claw her way to the bottle. Bloody trails from her fingertips left marks as she was dragged back.

Claire screamed, no longer able to contain the excruciating pain tearing through her thigh. Mark flipped her over onto her back and sat down on her torso, his legs straddling her.

“You stupid, stupid bitch.” He leered her, his voice still calm. “Did you really think you could run from me? Did you actually think I wouldn’t find you?”

She shook her head. “No, I knew you’d find me.”

He cocked his head. “Then why run?”

She needed to keep him talking. The longer he talked, the more likely it would be that Christian and Stefan would get here before Mark left. Even if they couldn’t save her, they would have the satisfaction of killing him.

“I just wanted to get away from you for a while. To do something fun and daring.”

“Is that what you were doing with the man on the sidewalk you were mauling earlier?” Mark gripped her left arm and put his weight on it, sending searing pain through her old injury. “Did you find the excitement you were looking for?”

She grinned in spite of her pain. Mark had shown the calmness of a paid assassin up until now. But Claire knew her next words would drive him into a murderous rage. And they might be the last words she would ever speak. “I found more than that. I met two incredible brothers. And I had the most amazing sex with both of them at the same time.”

Mark’s face contorted with anger and Claire knew her words had hit their target. “You slut! You know I’m just going to kill them next, don’t you?”

His fist struck the right side of her face and she heard, more than felt, the crunch of bone. Hands wrapped around her throat and squeezed. She tore and scratched at Mark’s hands, but they didn’t budge. He just squeezed harder. She couldn’t breathe. She gagged, but the sound that escaped her was weak and pitiful. She felt a final crushing pressure against her throat and then her vision blurred.

She thought she heard footsteps and then felt Mark’s weight lifted off her. She clawed her hand into the ground, wanting to get back to the bottle. It was her last thought as darkness finally consumed her.

Claire could see light behind her closed eyelids and she felt a soft breeze against her face. Something soft formed the place where she currently rested. She felt wonderful. For the first time in a long time, her arm and leg didn’t ache. In fact, she felt no pain at all.

She didn’t dare open her eyes, though, afraid of what she would see. She remembered the crushing pain against her throat and the suffocating lack of oxygen. She knew she had died. She must have crossed into the otherworld. Something about that didn’t make sense, though.

Since a light reaper had never shown up, she knew Atticus would have taken her soul to his master. But Claire couldn’t imagine that the master of a being known as a dark reaper would treat his captured souls to as much comfort as she currently felt. Maybe a light reaper had shown up after all, swooping in at the last minute to take her to a better place. She worked up the courage to open her eyes. Her vision was a little blurry as her eyes adjusted to the bright light, but she sighed in relief. Yes, a light reaper must have come, because two blond-haired angels looked down at her.

One of the beautiful beings shook his head at her. “You are in so much trouble.”

The other angel leaned in. “Deep, deep trouble.”

Confusion swept over her. Why would she be in trouble with two angels? She raised herself up on her elbows and blinked. Two sets of golden-honey eyes looked back at her. She looked around. This wasn’t Heaven, it was Christian’s bedroom. She looked back at the two angels. No, these weren’t angels grinning back at her. They were men. And they were both naked. Very, very naked. Okay, so maybe this was Heaven, after all.

“I didn’t die?”

Christian arched one eyebrow. “Oh no, you died, all right.”

Stefan narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, you were a mess.”

She crinkled her forehead, trying to remember. “But, the water bottle…”

“It had just enough water left in it to resurrect you.” Stefan rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Your bloody claw marks led us straight to it.”

Claire tried to remember details from the grotto. “Mark?”

“Dead.” Christian’s lips turned up in a malicious grin. “Very dead. Atticus got a soul, after all.”

Claire’s mouth fell open as realization dawned over her. “Then I’m…I’m…”

Christian leaned in close to her and narrowed his eyes. “Immortal. Which means we have lots and lots of time to punish you.”

“Punish me?” Claire’s voice squeaked.

Stefan nodded. “Oh, yes. There will be much punishment. Years, decades…probably centuries of punishment.”

Claire shivered, not entirely sure she would mind the type of punishment these men might dish out. “And when will this punishment start?”

Christian pulled the sheet away from her body and she realized she was as naked as they were. “Immediately.”

“Immediately?”

Stefan’s fingertips brushed a path up her thigh. “The sooner the better.” His fingers didn’t stop at the top of her thigh. He kept going, his fingers parting her soft curls and raking through her wet folds. One finger pushed into her pussy and then he pulled it out. He put the wet finger in his mouth and sucked off her juices. Her muscles clenched and she felt her cream flow as she watched him.

“Mmm, delicious.” His fingers resumed their exploration. He found her clit and lightly skimmed his fingertips over it. Claire fell back on her pillow and lifted her hips up to him, wanting to grind into his hand.

“Oh, no you don’t.” Christian’s strong hand pressed down on her and pinned her hips to the bed. “Punishment, remember? You don’t get to come until we say you can come.”

Stefan crawled between her legs and hovered above her, supporting his weight on his arms. “But don’t worry, love, we will let you come. Over and over and over.”

He moved his hand back between them and reached for his thick cock. Claire’s breath caught in her throat in anticipation. He dragged his engorged head between her folds and her pussy muscles clenched with need. He pressed his cock against her entrance and she shuddered. He pulled back, not entering her, and rubbed his stiff cock against her sensitive clit. She cried out and tried to wrap her legs around his hips, but Christian held her down.

She reached out, intending to grab Stefan’s shoulders to pull him toward her. Christian seemed to move with lightning speed and he captured her right wrist and then the left. He pinned her hands to the bed above her head and leaned down over her, his piecing gaze searing her with its heat. “You don’t listen very well, my darling. I think more drastic measures are needed.”

He reached over to the nightstand and Claire’s eyes widened as he picked up what appeared to be silken ropes. Her breathing came hard and fast as he fastened the ropes to each thick bedpost and then slipped the looped ends over her wrists and ankles.