Love Me to Death (Underveil) (15 page)

Chapter Fourteen

N
ikolai knew the Slayer Elite Team would have night-vision goggles, poison bullets in long-range rifles, and elven-forged Slayer swords.

He and Elena were like fish in a barrel unless he had enough strength to teleport them out. His injuries had taken a toll, and he had no idea how far he could get them before his energy waned and they landed…anywhere.

Perhaps the snowmobiles were still where the wood elves had attacked them several miles away. Surely, he could get them that far.

“Put on the parka,” he instructed, unlatching the suitcase. “Quickly.”

“Are you kidding me?” she replied. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He didn’t have time to argue. By now, the soldiers were riding down zip lines, landing all around the cabin. He turned the lantern up all the way, slipped into his boots, shoved several stacks of cash from the suitcase into her parka pockets and then the rest into his own, threw the parka over his arm, and grabbed her by the neck.

“No way!” Tears streamed down her face as he started the teleportation chant. A slam against the heavy wood door was followed by another. Just as his molecules began to break apart and the pressure began, the wood of the door cracked. Three of them slammed through the door as his vision faded and they were transported to another location out of reach.

T
he cold air scorched Elena’s lungs. The forest was tinted an eerie blue by the low moon. It looked like the same place where they had been attacked by the things with black blood. Yep. It certainly was, she realized as Nikolai led her down a hill toward an overturned snowmobile. The bodies of the creatures were gone. He turned the vehicle upright and pushed down on the choke and cranked it to life with a rumble. “Get on, Elena.” He handed her the parka.

She had seen the things that broke into the cabin. He was certainly the lesser of the two evils. She slipped on the parka, Velcroed it over her arm bound by the cord, pulled up the hood, and straddled the seat behind him. Because she had no choice, she wrapped her arms around his waist, angry with herself for feeling better for it. With a lurch, the snowmobile jerked forward and then zoomed up the hill. Elena tucked in behind his big body, glad for the wind protection. He had no jacket, she realized, entwining her fingers in the T-shirt.

It felt like they were going a million miles an hour as they zipped through the moonlit night up a snow-covered incline and then followed what was probably a frozen riverbed through the forest. With her head against his back, she could actually hear his teeth chattering. It was a good thing he was immortal. A human wouldn’t be able to endure this without a coat.

Aleksandra’s words ran through her head.
Turn her, fuck her, and get rid of her
. Elena couldn’t let that happen. If the immortals planned to use her somehow once she was turned, she would have to be sure she stayed human—at least that way, she could escape them through death. She would die before she allowed herself to become a tool or weapon of some kind.

And as far as the “fuck her” part went, it might be worth it to get free of him, but there was no way in hell she’d let him take advantage of her again. She’d been so stupid. She’d actually become fond of him.
Shit,
she was falling in
love
with him. Thank God she saw his true colors before it was too late. Still, it would be nice to be free of the cord. Was she willing to go there? To let him touch her again?
No.
Her heart wouldn’t take it. There had to be another way.

But Aleksandra had told him to get rid of her. That made no sense. If she was useful somehow, why get rid of her? Why dump her in a safe house with vampires or the Time Folder?

Her hands stung and the tips of her fingers were numb even though they were under his T-shirt. He must be half-frozen because he didn’t have a body blocking the wind for him like she did. Still, he raced along toward who knew where. Her teeth clacked together as he steered the snowmobile over a rough patch and up an embankment. Snow fell silently around them, and below, a smattering of tents and carts littered the clear space inside of a ring of trees. A fire burned in the center.

“Perfect,” Nikolai said, steering the snowmobile toward the camp. This time, he didn’t race, though; he slowly chugged down the hill. As they got closer, men emerged from tents and carts, armed with rifles. He stopped the snowmobile in the center of the camp and remained perfectly still on the seat. “Do not look at any of them in the eye,” he whispered. “Stay quiet and keep your head down. They must think I am human and we are lovers.”

“Fat chance on both counts,” she whispered back. His rib cage expanded with a deep breath under her freezing cold hands. The men closing in seemed to be human. Maybe they could help her escape.

One of the men shouted to them in a foreign language. Nikolai got off the snowmobile and answered as he helped Elena off. There was more conversation, which seemed pretty tense, and then one of the men shook Nikolai’s hand. Two others pushed the snowmobile under the trees.

The snow had picked up, and she could barely see the ring of tents circling the fire, which had died down significantly in the last couple of minutes.

“Fate is on our side at last,” he said quietly. “The snow will cover our tracks.”

Her teeth chattered. Nikolai looked her up and down. His gaze stuck at her feet—or where her legs disappeared into the snow. “You wear only socks.”

She nodded.

He said something to one of the men and then picked her up in his arms. She started to struggle to get down, but he clamped his arms tight like vises, reminding her how inhumanly strong he was and how completely human she was—and completely at his mercy, which was not what she wanted at all. She gave another twist, and his grip tightened even more.

“Stick with the plan. Appearances matter right now.”

She stilled. The man struck out, and they followed him to a tattered covered wagon. The man shouted something, and an old woman stuck her head out from the canvas at the back. She cocked her head and stared at Nikolai and Elena, then pulled the flap open and gestured for them to enter.

He lifted her into the back of the cart, which was carpeted with blankets and animal skins, then climbed in. He nodded to the woman, who had backed up to the other side of the space near the small oil lamp hanging from one of the arched ribs holding the canvas in place.

Nikolai wordlessly ripped Elena’s socks and wet pants off. When she opened her mouth to protest, he pinned her with a glare so menacing she snapped her lips closed and yanked a blanket over her legs. In all sincerity, she felt much better out of the wet clothes, but it would have been nice if he hadn’t manhandled her in the process. Part of the show, she assumed.

The woman took the wet clothes and hung the over a line at the front of the wagon, then stared at the cord binding them. She studied Elena’s face, then Nikolai’s, and then she spoke. Her voice was raspy and weak, but Nikolai didn’t seem to have any trouble understanding her. He responded several times and even smiled once.

This freaking cluelessness was driving Elena insane. She had no idea where she was, why she was there, or what they were saying.

He took his sword off and laid it down against the wooden side of the wagon. The woman’s gaze followed it and stayed on the jeweled hilt.

“She’s going to kill you in your sleep for it,” Elena said. “You spoke of lust to me once. That’s it.”

“It’s why I’m not sleeping,” he said, stretching out near his sword. “Please join me.”

“Go to hell.” She adjusted the blanket around her legs, suddenly feeling a little bare without her flannel pajama pants.

His eyes narrowed. “If you do not do as I ask, you are jeopardizing your safety. I made a bargain out there, and if you continue this, they will change their minds. Get over here and lie next to me now so that I can warm you up, or I will come and get you.”

The old woman was watching them intently with her black eyes. There was more going on here than his wanting to conserve warmth.

“What bargain did you make?”

“I asked for their hospitality, and they wanted something in return. They wanted you. I told them we had run away together and that your father searches for us. I told them you belong to me, but that they could have the snowmobile.”

“I don’t belong to you.”

He sat up, and before she could react, he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into his lap. She gasped and grabbed the blanket, covering her bare half below the parka.

“Well, you’d better make it look like you do unless you want them to ride
you
rather than the snowmobile.”

Asshole.
She slid off his lap, keeping her back to the woman, who watched them with open fascination. Elena used a tone that, if you did not speak the language, sounded like she was flirting with him. “What am I expected to do to make it look like I belong to you?”

“Act like you don’t hate me.”

She rolled her eyes but maintained the sweetness in her voice. “I do hate you.”

“Act like you want me.”

“I don’t.”

He leaned very close. So close his nose touched her ear. “Act like you did when my tongue was inside you.”

She didn’t move as she replaced the unwanted jolt of excitement with anger so deep it limited her breath. It took everything in her to maintain her flirtatious tone rather than the threatening one she wanted to use. “It’s a good thing you’re not going to sleep, because I’d use that sword of yours to cut your tongue out.”

He leaned back and an eyebrow shot up. “You make me hard.”

“You make me sick.”

“I want you so bad, Elena.”

“Only because it serves your purpose.”

His intensity and sincerity startled her. “You have jumped to an erroneous conclusion based on someone else’s words. What you heard does not express my thoughts or feelings. Not at all.”

Feelings? What feelings? He didn’t have any. He said so himself. He felt desire. He had told her that love was a myth fabricated by humans to justify lust. Well, she had plenty of that. As mad as she was, her body still screamed for him. Well, it could scream until it was hoarse. She would never capitulate. If she had to go along with his charade, so be it, but it was only a show.

“Don’t fight me,” he warned, leaning toward her. “She’s watching. They are all waiting for her report.”

Surely, he was joking. But when his gaze shot to the woman behind her, then back to her face, she knew he wasn’t.

“I’m going to kiss you, and you’re going to act like you like it.” He moved closer, as if testing her. “In fact, you
are
going to like it, because no matter how mad you are, your body knows and wants me.”

His lips touched hers, but the contact was as light as the flutter of a butterfly’s wing.

She drew back to speak. “You can talk all you want, Nikolai, but neither my body nor my mind is listening. That ship sailed and it left without you. The minute this cord is gone, so am I.”

Nikolai knew she was dead serious. She would leave the minute the cord no longer bound them. Well, as much as it pained him, perhaps he should see to it that the cord stayed in place a while longer. At least until he could win her over. Because no matter how fucked up it was, fate had put them together, and despite the misgivings and obstacles, he planned to keep her.

He leaned in to kiss her again, and she pressed her lips in a thin line. Good thing the woman watching could only see the back of Elena’s head because the look on her face was that of a person who had just swallowed a bug.

After repeated unsuccessful attempts to get her to kiss him back, he lay down, pulling her with him, and covered them with several thick furs. She tried to turn her back to him, but he pinned her in place, facing him, with his hand on her pelvis. “Relax, Elena.” He ran his hand over her perfect, bare, round ass, and he groaned.

“Take your hands off me,” she whispered so quietly he could barely hear it.

If only he had known she hadn’t been asleep when Aleksi had come to the cabin, he could be deep inside her now. How could he have been so careless?

He kept his hand wrapped around her cheek, but stilled. The old woman watched them from the corner of the large covered wagon. These nomadic family groups were notoriously suspicious of outsiders. It was important he convince her they were lovers running away, which was damned hard to do if one of the lovers was rejecting the other.

“Stop fighting me,” he whispered. “We need these people to house us for a day or so until I can teleport again. They won’t do it if they think I lied. We need their cover and trust.” And he needed Elena’s trust. He craved it even more than he craved her body.

He slid his hand up to rest benignly at her waist, and her muscles relaxed slightly. “Just go along with me. Kiss me once to make it look like you are not here against your will.”

“I am.”

The old woman cleared her throat. “She doesn’t want you, eh?” she asked in Romani.

“She does,” he assured with what he hoped was a believable grin. “She is worried about her father. And like all good women, she wants me to work for it.”

The woman laughed. “In my day, I would have made you work for it, too.”

She settled in as if going to bed, but left the lantern lit so she could watch them. Nikolai gritted his teeth. All it would take to set this woman’s mind at ease would be one kiss. One kiss, and they could hide among these people until he was back at full power. Fydor would never think to search for him among humans.