Find Me in Passion: Mal and Christina's Story, Part 3 Page 5

  “So what’s his take on it?”

  “He’s great,” I say truthfully. “And patient. He says that we’re getting to know each other again. But I know the whole deal is hard for him. I mean, he killed me hundreds of times, and each time all he really wanted was to pull me close. Can you even imagine?”

  “No,” Bray says. “I really can’t. It sounds like the worst kind of hell.”

  I nod, because I can’t either, and I would give anything if I could erase the pain of Mal’s past, and I can only hope that the future that lies before us dulls some of that lingering ache.

  “The truth is,” I continue, “everything would be amazing if it weren’t for the weapon.” I suck in air. “I’m so sorry you got hurt, Bray. It’s all my fault.”

  “It’s not,” he says. We’ve been down this road already today. Several times, in fact.

  I shrug. “Say what you want, I was being foolish and arrogant and careless.”

  “Sounds like half the people wandering the streets of New York,” he retorts, making me laugh. “Seriously, if I’d ended up dead, I’d be pissed. But I’m fine, and we should just move on. Lesson learned.”

  I nod, but even though I believe him, and even though Mal and I have been over this territory, too, the guilt still lingers. I imagine it always will.

  Across the room, I see Dagny looking our way, and I lift my chin to signal that she can return anytime. “I’m glad things are going well with you two.”

  “So am I,” he says. “I like her. The whole immortal thing throws me for a loop, but I figure I’ll deal with that later. One step at a time, right?”

  That’s what my mom’s therapist used to say, and although for the most part I thought he was an ass, about that, he may have had the right idea.

  “Yeah,” I agree. “One step at a time.”

  As Dagny heads toward us, the door on the far side of the room that connects the VIP area to the members’ lounge opens, and Tanya, the receptionist I’d met during my very first visit to Dark Pleasures, pokes her head in. Dagny detours that direction and meets her at the door, then continues toward Bray and me carrying a glass of scotch for Bray and the long white box with a red bow that Tanya has handed her.

  “Oooh,” I say. “What did you get?”

  “You tell me.” She pushes the box across the table to me. Sure enough, it’s addressed to Jaynie Christina Hart. I look across the room, but Mal is still deep in conversation with Liam, and though I have the odd sensation that he is watching me, I never catch him in the act.

  “Open it!” Dagny urges.

  Since that seems like a solid plan, I give the ribbon tug and loosen the bow. I pull it free, and then lift the top off the box.

  Inside are a dozen perfect red roses. And nestled among the stems is a small card. I take it out and read it, my breath catching as I do. And this time when I look at Mal, he is looking back, and he nods his head almost imperceptibly as if to say, Yes.

  “Well?” Brayden asks.

  When I hold out the card to Bray, I am grinning so wide that it hurts.

  Then. Now. Always.

  I love you,

  Yours eternally,

  Mal

  I take out the flowers, hold them to my nose and breathe deep. Apparently we’re not skimping on the romance after all.

  I lift my face and find Mal watching me, his expression so full of love it makes me sigh. Always, he mouths.

  Forever, I reply.

  *

  An hour later, our table is full to overflowing. I’m on Mal’s lap, warm in his arms. Across from us, Dagny sits on the arm of Bray’s chair as he holds her around the waist. Callie and Raine are on the small bench that backs up to the wall, and Liam and Jessica have pulled up a chair and are squeezed in between Raine and Bray.

  Even Asher has joined us, though he is focusing more on the text messages he is sending back and forth with Dante than our conversation. As far as the conversation goes, it is flowing as free as the scotch. Bray, however, is the only one who seems to be getting tipsy, and when I whisper to Mal that I’ve had four drinks and am still surprisingly upright, he replies that an inability to get drunk is a side effect of the brotherhood’s particular brand of immortality.

  “Apparently the weapon didn’t steal that from you,” he whispers. “As your memories have returned, so has your ability to metabolize alcohol.”

  Across the table, Bray smacks his hand on the polished wood, yanking my attention from Mal. “So here’s the thing I don’t get,” he mutters, clearly on the downside of drunk. “How can she be a map?” He aims a wobbly finger toward me and almost knocks over Dagny’s wine glass in the process. “She’s my best friend, and I think I would know if she was a map.”

  Dagny meets my eyes. “Lightweight,” she says, and I laugh.

  “I’m serious,” Bray says. “I want to see.”

  Around the table, the others look amused. For her part, Dagny looks mildly embarrassed. “This wasn’t how I intended him to meet everybody.”

  “He’s fine,” Jessica says. “And loopier than he normally would be. The healing,” she says to me as an aside. “It wipes mortals out.”

  “All the more reason you should do this for the mortal,” Bray says. He focuses on me. As much as he can focus, anyway. “Come on, Jay. Parlor trick time.”

  Despite the fact that I am trying very hard to burrow into Mal, I don’t seem to be getting anywhere.

  “At the risk of egging him on,” Liam finally says, “I think it would be a good idea for you to do a sweep now. We know there were six on the island earlier. Let’s see if they brought friends.”

  “Yes!” Brayden punches the air.

  I roll my eyes, but at the same time I push myself up so that I’m sitting straight. “Right here?” I ask, looking between Mal and Liam.

  “Can you do it here?”

  “I’m not sure I can do it at all,” I admit. “Lately it’s been hit and miss.”

  “You can do it,” Mal says. He presses his hand to my back and I close my eyes, soaking in his strength. Reminding myself through his touch that he will always be there.

  “Okay,” I say with a grimace toward Bray. “Here goes nothing.”

  I lay my hands flat on the table as I lean forward with eyes closed. Mal keeps his hand on me, and I am grateful that he knows with such innate certainty what I need.

  I start to breathe, slow and steady, trying to be calm and collected and not force it. Hoping that by sliding out of myself, I’ll bring the world into focus around me. And slowly—so slowly—I feel it starting to come together. I’m not sure if it’s me or if Mal is feeding me energy, but the truth is that I don’t care. We’re a team.

  We’re a couple.

  And I both trust him and rely on him.

  That simple truth fills me. Hell, it relaxes me. And as my muscles soften and my mind opens, the map spreads out around me, filling my head, taking over my world.

  “I see it,” I whisper as I open my eyes. As before, the map now seems to be projected on the walls around me. I stand up, feeling a bit like a girl in a dream and turn a slow circle in the tiny space between the table and Mal’s chair.

  I am searching for the United States. For New York. For Manhattan. Letting my eyes skip over the scatter of lights like fireflies against the night. “So many,” I whisper. “But not here.”

  I hear a vague mumbling, and think that my friends must be talking. But I don’t see them. I don’t hear them. I see only the map. I feel only the fuerie and—

  And?

  “None on Manhattan,” I say. “But there is something.” I move forward, though only in my mind. I hadn’t realized I could do this before, but I’m bringing it into focus. Like zooming in on a computer map, making the image bigger and bigger until I am standing on a street. I walk a block, then look around for a street sign.

  As I do, I see the building.

  That’s it.

  That’s the one.

  That’s where the
amulet is now.

  Chapter 7

  ‡

  Mal looked into her now-clear eyes. Before, she’d been somewhere else. Physically there, but mentally gone. For a moment—one single, horrible moment—he’d been afraid that he’d lost her again. This time not to death, but to the madness that she feared.

  That she’d gone into the map in her mind, and had gotten lost there, with no way to find her way back to him.

  And now that she was looking at him with triumph, it took every bit of his strength not to pull her into his arms, kiss her hard, and tell her to never, ever leave him again.

  Christ, where was his head?

  She made him crazy with passion. With worry. With longing.

  He wanted to hold her close, and yet he didn’t want her to feel trapped.

  He wanted her safe.

  He wanted this to be over.

  That was the bottom line: he simply wanted her. He simply wanted everything.

  “So?” Brayden said, even that simple word coming out in a slur. “Did you see the bad guys?”

  She turned in another circle, her eyes bright and her smile widening until she found Mal’s eyes again. “They’re not on the island,” she said. “But I saw the amulet.”

  As if on cue, everyone except Brayden leaned in. “Are you sure?” Liam asked.

  “Where?” Mal demanded.

  She reached for his hand, and he took it, then pulled her onto his lap. She came easily, and the moment felt warm and comfortable despite the tension in the air and the stirrings of a mission in development. “Nearby,” she said, then rattled off the address and the name of a store—Orlov Antiques and Fine Jewelry.

  “Oh!” Callie said. “I know that store. Or, at least, I know of it.”

  “Could you get us access?” Ash asked.

  She shook her head. “Oh, no. When I say I know it, it’s because Daddy used to talk about the owner. Not a nice man. Not at all.”

  “Fuerie?”

  Callie’s brow furrowed. “I don’t think so. I’ve met him a couple of times, including once after I came back to deal with Daddy’s illness. I didn’t get a weird vibe and I didn’t see the flames on his face.”

  “That doesn’t mean much,” Raine said. “You weren’t aware of who you were then.”

  She nods. “That’s true. The first time I saw the flames, I was scared and the adrenaline kicked me into gear. Orlov’s unpleasant, but I wouldn’t call him scary.”

  “And I didn’t see any fuerie around,” Christina said. “Though Orlov could just be off the island.”

  “A minion,” Raine said. “A human who’s working with the fuerie.”

  “I bet that’s it,” Callie said. “Daddy said there were rumors he was tied into the Russian mafia. And that fits. His security puts Fort Knox to shame. I mean, yes, he has some high end pieces, but I think he was locking up more than estate sale diamonds at night.”

  Mal leaned back, considering. “What do you mean it put Fort Knox to shame?”

  “Serious tech,” Callie said. “We’d need explosives to get inside that vault. And I don’t think we want to go there,” she added with a glance toward Christina.

  “No,” Mal said dryly. “We don’t.” He thought for a moment. “Electric locks, I assume?”

  “I think so. There was a keypad to enter. I’d be surprised if it was a safe with a dial.”

  Raine had been quiet during the exchange. Now he leaned forward. “If it’s electronic, I can open it.”

  Mal frowned, because that was true. And it would be a damn good solution if it weren’t for the fact that Raine had drawn the short end of the stick. One more time into the phoenix fire, and he wouldn’t come out a sane man. He’d be hollow. Lost. Locked inside himself forever.

  And that meant Mal couldn’t risk him in the field. Not when the amulet would undoubtedly be protected by more than just the vault.

  They needed him though, and although it might be dangerous, Mal knew there was one way to give Raine back some of the lives that had gone into the burn. To make the phoenix fire safe for him once again.

  “Mal?” Raine pressed. “You know you need me.”

  Beside him, Callie squeezed her fingers so tight into Raine’s wrist it left impressions. Her lips were pressed together in a thin line, but Mal had to give her credit for not protesting. She knew the risks—and she also knew the reward. And she was going to let him decide.

  He looked at Liam, who cocked his head, clearly unsure. Mal took that as acquiescence—if Mal had a strong opinion on the matter, his co-leader would defer to him.

  “You can go,” he finally said. “But only on one condition.”

  Raine leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest, the colors of his tats vibrant in the soft lighting. “Yeah? What’s that?”

  “Christina has to agree.”

  *

  “What do you mean I have to agree?”

  I’ve been asking that question for the last five minutes, and now that we’re finally alone in Mal’s brownstone, I really want an answer.

  “Because of what I’m going to ask you to do.”

  He’s not looking at me as he speaks. Instead he’s gone to the small table where he keeps liquor and glasses. He pours himself a generous shot of scotch, then slams it back, as if he’s hoping to get at least a small buzz before that damned immortal metabolism sets in and sobers him right back up.

  I cross to him, frowning. I don’t understand what’s going on, but I know that he’s uncomfortable, and that somehow both Raine and I are involved.

  And that makes me uncomfortable, too.

  “Come here,” I say. I take his hand, then lead him to the sofa. I curl up against him, deliberately putting my back to his chest so that he understands he can talk freely and not censor his words based on the expression he thinks he’s reading on my face.

  Just one more tip from my mother’s therapist. Who knew they’d be so handy?

  “How much do you know about Raine?” He hasn’t tried to shift position or turn me. But his arm is over my shoulder, and his fingers are lightly stroking my skin. I like it, this feeling of being together even when it’s something difficult that we’re facing.

  “I know that he’s with Callie. And I know what I remember from our past, but that was a long time ago. Just that he was a warrior, but he was also on the tech crew. Dual assignments. And I know that he’s been your closest friend for a very long time. Even closer than Liam.”

  I feel him stiffen as I lean against him. “How do you know that?”

  I shrug. “Observation. Deduction. You were already close. But then you lost me and he lost Livia. So it makes sense you’d bond. And I watched the two of you that very first night I came to the bar. It was clear you were old friends, and good ones. Just something about the way you moved. A familiarity, I guess.”

  “You’re observant.”

  “One of the tricks of the trade. Hard to play a role if you haven’t studied a role.”

  He’s silent for a minute, and I wonder where all this is leading. Then he says, “Tell me about your mother.”

  It’s my turn to tense. And despite what the shrink said, I shift on the couch so that I am facing him. “What the hell?”

  He is completely unperturbed by my reaction. “Do you understand what she experienced when she went into her gray zones?”

  Part of me wants to stand up and walk away, because I do not want to talk about this. But another part of me knows that Mal wouldn’t be asking if there wasn’t a reason. “I don’t really know,” I admit. “But I’ve had those kinds of episodes, too. As a kid—I told you, right? And I think it’s sort of similar. It’s just—nothing.”

  “Could you bear it? If she were still alive, but constantly in that state? Or Brayden. Or me? Could you stand knowing that we were there, but not there? That we were lost in some hollow, mad world that might be empty, but that might be filled with horrible, dark things?”

  “No.” The word is full of pain, a
nd I draw in a breath. “Why are you asking me this?”

  “Because that’s what will happen to Raine if he goes into the phoenix fire again.”

  I stare for a moment, not understanding. But then he explains. How too many times into the burn will hollow you out. How it’s happened once already to a warrior named Samson. And how Raine knows that it will happen to him if he goes into the burn once more.

  “That’s why you didn’t want him on the mission,” I say. “He might get killed. And that’s why it’s up to me.” I stand, then hug myself, remembering all too clearly the night when the weapon had risen dangerously high within me. I’d glowed with the power of it, and as I did, I’d touched Mal’s back, and the ornate phoenix that represented almost ten lives lost and restored, vanished.

  That was the night I’d realized that the underlying force that controlled the weapon was life, and that it has as much power to destroy as it does to heal.

  “That was the night we were attacked,” I say. “I was angry because I couldn’t fight anymore. I was mad at the world and I was taking it out on you and me and everything around us, and I lost control. Do you remember how hot we were? How hard you fucked me? How much I wanted you?”

  My throat feels tight and hot tears streak down my cheeks. I can’t believe he’s asking this of me. “Do you know how much of myself I exposed to you that night? How can you ask me to be that wild with someone else? For that matter, how can you justify the risk of me going ballistic just to save one man?”

  He is on his feet and at my side in an instant. “No,” he says. “God no.” He turns me so that I have no choice but to face him. Even so, I can’t quite manage to meet his eyes. “Listen to me, lover. I would never have you in another man’s bed, and I will kill any man who touches you.”

  I shift my gaze, tentatively looking at his face.

  “Then I don’t understand what you want.”

  “I want us to make the weapon rise. I want to bring it out so you glow. And then I want you to touch Raine. To give him the weapon’s energy. I think that’s the key, and if I’m right, you can restore him.”