The Wicked (6 page)

Even though she barely knew him, once again she heard layers of nuance in his voice. Not regret, necessarily, but some emotion close to it.

He shifted into a more casual stance and rested his weight on both hands as he gripped the railing. Surreptitiously, out of the corner of her eye, she studied the hand that rested closest to hers. It looked strong and as beautifully proportioned as the rest of his body, broad, with long fingers, and a tracery of veins along the back.

“I like home life, and I like to nest,” she said. “I don’t think I would be happy living a life like yours, but it’s fun to hear stories and to daydream.”

“It gets tiring,” he said. “You can have too much of any one thing, and then it all runs together into sameness.”

Ah, she recognized the emotion in his voice. Resignation.

“I think so too, which is why I want to make a point of traveling a bit more. I don’t want to look back on my life and have any regrets.”

“Good for you,” he said. His head turned as he looked out over the rippling water of the Bay. “You should make a point of doing things that you want to do. Regrets can be a bitch.”

She remembered her bottle of beer, finished the last few swallows and set the empty bottle at her feet to dispose of later. Then, because he seemed halfway approachable, and she enjoyed standing beside him and talking, she confessed, “I’ve been so excited at this trip, I don’t think I’ve slept a full night in months. As much as I love my job, I spend most of my life in a library. I’ve never traveled down a crossover passage or been to an Other land.”

He turned back to her, frowning slightly. “If I recall correctly, none of you have much experience scuba diving.”

She knew he was talking about all the symbologists, because his crew was highly trained for everything they needed to do. He hadn’t been present for any of the evening’s activities, so either Bailey had briefed him or he remembered that detail from their individual files.

She said, “That’s right. I went into a practice tank a couple of times to get ready for the trip, but I’ve never actually been diving.”

His frown deepened. “It’s too bad that this will be your first time for both diving and crossovers. They can both be terrific experiences, but I don’t think you’ll be getting the best of either this time around. Travelling underwater through the passageway will probably be disorienting. It’ll be dark, and the magic will shift as you travel. You might find it uncomfortable.”

Bailey had said the same thing earlier. Olivia shrugged. “I’m not claustrophobic, and I think the buddy system for the crossing is a good one. And the actual underwater trip isn’t supposed to last long. This trip is more than worth a brief amount of discomfort.”

He turned to lean back against the railing, arms crossed. He said, “I’ll partner with you for the crossover.”

Once again she reacted physically, as surprise throbbed through her.

Surprise, and something else.

They would be swimming together in dark water with magic swirling all around them. She thought of his forceful, steady presence alongside hers. His hard, powerful body would move through the water with the same effortless grace he had bounded up the stairs with before. Her mouth went dry.

She managed to clamp down on the, “Yes, please,” that was ricocheting around in her head. Instead, more or less calmly, she replied, “Thank you.”

And, damn him, he picked up on her reaction for a second time, despite the wind blowing off the Bay and the indirect lighting from the yacht and the lampposts that dotted the length of the slip.

His attention sharpened on her. She could see it in the shift of his expression, and the change in his body stance. His already forceful presence became so intense she could not take a steady breath. It shuddered out of her, another telltale reaction.

She did not feel that she was in control of her own body.

He was.

He pulled this response out of her without ever touching her.

Her composure started a long, slow slide down an unknown hill, to an unseen destination. Still facing the railing, she leaned against it to steady herself as she huddled in her blanket, averted her gaze and pretended to look out over the water. Every nerve in her body turned on until she felt ablaze with some kind of light.

In a liquid glide filled with predatory grace, he turned fully toward her and moved closer until he stood at her shoulder, and a shiver ran along her skin. Angling his head, he pushed into her personal space. Not much, not so that their bodies touched, but just enough.

Speaking quietly, almost in a whisper, he asked, “Are you warm enough now?”

The warmth of his breath curled against her chilled cheek, and her shivering turned convulsive.

This was a man who knew exactly what he was doing, each movement choreographed down to the millimeter. That should have turned her off. It always had before. But it didn’t this time. Where was her turn off switch?

With lightning speed, her mind tried out and discarded several answers in an effort to find one that sounded normal. The problem was, they all sounded suggestive.

I’m warm enough now. Oh, thank you. (
Don’t even.
)

I could be warmer. (
No. It doesn’t matter if it’s the truth. Just NO.
)

The decision was too difficult. She couldn’t figure out what to say, and the mounting pressure of the passing seconds got to her. She muttered, “I—I don’t know.”

His hand clamped down on her shoulder, the grip punishingly tight. It jolted her so much, she jerked her head up and stared at him.

He wasn’t looking at her. His attention had turned to the dock. She looked in the same direction.

Several Nightkind creatures walked toward the slip where the yacht was moored, including two trolls, four ghouls and five Vampyres. Ten of the Nightkind, including the trolls, wore black Nightkind uniforms. The last of the Nightkind strode at the head of the group.

Even for someone like Olivia, who did not live or socialize in elevated circles, he was a very recognizable Vampyre. He wore tailored evening clothes that fit his tall, powerful frame superbly. He had short black hair that was streaked at the temples with flecks of white, a rough-hewn, aquiline face and a piercing, wolfish gaze.

Julian Regillus, the Nightkind King himself, had come to pay them a visit.

Sebastian’s hand on Olivia’s shoulder remained a heavy, hard presence. She could feel pressure from every one of his fingers, although when she glanced at his face, he looked expressionless.

Two of the security crew on duty stepped out of the pilot’s cabin, their faces sharp. They froze when Sebastian gestured to them. He said nothing, but just watched as the Nightkind King and his group approached until they stood at the foot of the boarding ramp.

The King looked up at them where they stood at the railing, his hands on his hips, while his people fanned out around him. From what Olivia understood from popular media, Carling had turned Julian at the height of the Roman Empire. Julian had been one of Emperor Hadrian’s most famous and distinguished generals, and now he was one of the most ancient Vampyres in the world. Even from that distance, Olivia felt his Power covering the dock in a dark, seductive mantle.

Julian’s gaze met hers and held it as effortlessly as if he cradled a glass of wine in his long fingers. What an incredible experience it would be, she thought, to talk with the Nightkind King. The things he had experienced, the vast amount of history he would remember… Although he had begun his life as a human, that was so very long ago, now he must be as different from humankind as all but the most alien of the Elder Races.

The King smiled slightly, almost as if he could read her thoughts. Life as a human had not been kind to him. It had etched itself across the rough planes and hollows of his face until he had conquered it. She wondered what tales the marks on his face told, the enemies he had fought, the pain he had endured, the victories he had won.

What would he confess to her as they talked into the night? Could she unlock the secrets of his soul, sprawled on velvet couches in front of a fire?

He was so strong yet so alone, and he needed her. She could sustain him, while he could fulfill her. Only him, only her, as the unending night scrolled on and on…

A snarl sounded beside her, the sound so violent and shocking it made her jump. She felt so disoriented, at first she could not make sense of what she heard, or why the velvet couches had vanished.

“
Stop it
,” Sebastian hissed between his teeth.

Olivia twisted to face the man beside her. Sebastian stared down at the King. His bold, hard face had transformed into a look of such naked aggression, she would have taken several steps back had he not held her anchored at his side with that iron, unyielding grip. His Power had roused as well, and surrounded her in sharp, invisible blades.

“I have not done anything,” the King said. His smile had widened, not unpleasantly. “She is human. Some humans react this way.”

While he spoke aloud, the darkest of voices came into her head.
If there comes a time when you wish to do so, you may come to me.

And the thing that terrified her most was not that the King had issued the invitation, but that a wild desire had risen up inside of her in response to it. Shaking violently, she turned to face Sebastian and grabbed his T-shirt with both fists. He put his arms around her, his grip as hard and unyielding as his hand on her shoulder had been.

“Don’t look at him,” he muttered.

She nodded jerkily. She whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”

As they spoke, she felt Phaedra’s presence rouse.

Oh no,
no
.

This strange, deadly scene already had a dangerous unpredictability. They needed Phaedra’s involvement in it like they needed extra holes drilled in their heads.

But something about the confrontation had triggered the Djinn’s interest, and one of the unfortunate realities of this trip was that Phaedra definitely had a mind of her own.

Olivia dared to peek in the direction of the dock, although she tried not to look at Julian directly. Black smoke poured down the bottom of the boat ramp. Phaedra’s physical form coalesced in front of Julian and the other Nightkind.

The Djinn stood directly in front of the Vampyre, her arms crossed, with long black talons laid along her biceps, deliberately on display. She had chosen to appear in her usual black, with her sleek fall of hair ruby-colored like blood, and her white, regal features wearing a haughty expression. The boat ramp was some distance down the length of the yacht, and Olivia could only see her profile, but as Phaedra glanced back up at Olivia and Sebastian, her eyes burned hot like stars.

Julian cocked his head as he regarded the Djinn, his expression sparking with something other than amusement. Every Nightkind creature surrounding him drew closer, and the atmosphere turned deadly.

In the iciest tone Olivia had ever heard from her, Phaedra said, “Vampyre, this female human is one of my associates, and she is under my protection. Do not meet her gaze. Do not speak to her, physically or telepathically. Do I make myself clear?”

Julian blurred into movement that was too fast for Olivia’s human eyes, and so did Phaedra. When they stilled again, the Nightkind King held the Djinn with one powerful hand wrapped around her throat.

And Phaedra held him, too, with one of her hands wrapped around his throat. Olivia could see that her black talons had sunk into his skin. Vampyre blood trickled from the small puncture wounds. She thought of all the Vampyre groupies, nicknamed bottom feeders, who would pay a fortune for that tiny, precious trickle of the Nightkind King’s potent blood.

“Now this has become an interesting evening,” said Julian. His rough, aquiline face had turned brutal. He and Phaedra stared at each other down the lengths of their arms.

Olivia groaned under her breath. “This has become a disaster.”

“It’s perfect,” said Sebastian.

Chapter Five

In just a few moments, Phaedra had affirmed her worth in Sebastian’s eyes and justified his decision in keeping her on the team. As far as he was concerned, she and the Vampyre could tear each other into pieces. Then he could call the Elder tribunal, rightfully claim he had nothing to do with any of it, and they could all sit back in comfort to watch somebody else clean up the mess.

In the meantime, hoping that Bailey was within telepathic range, he said,
Where are you?

Bailey said,
I’m in my bunk. What’s up?

He didn’t waste time on details.
Call everybody who left for shore leave. Tell them to haul their asses back to the ship now. No excuses.

Bailey’s telepathic voice turned crisp.
You got it. Where are you?

On deck. Julian’s here.

Do you need me there?

I’ll let you know. Stay put for now.

Huddled into his chest, Olivia still trembled in his arms. He glanced at her, and something powerful and violent surged up inside him at the expression on her tense, pale face. She looked shell-shocked and very frightened.

“It’s all right,” he whispered. “You’re all right.”