Page 85

Story: Feral Longing

Helen waited for them near the exit, her toe tapping on the marble floor. He forced a civil tone. “Apologies for the delay. My Chosen needed some…instruction.”

Helen’s shrewd gaze narrowed on Alex. “Yes, she certainly did.” She sniffed, easing her cell phone into her bulging purse with shaking hands and fumbling with the clasp. “I called the club. All the arrangements have been made, right on schedule.”

Her focus shifted to Marcus, who lingered just outside the glass door. “As usual, I’ve handled everything. It’s what I do, after all. The reason he keeps me around. Attention to every little detail. There are very few women who can meet Lord Steele’s exacting standards.” She heaved a ragged sigh, for a moment looking tired. “Time to go. Marcus hates to be kept waiting.”

* * *

Alex heldtight to Jericho’s hand as they exited the casino. Crisp night air breezed through the thin material of her dress, sending a teeth-rattling chill down her spine. The marble griffons looked down on them as if contemplating their next meal, and a sense of foreboding prickled her neck.

She squinted, peering into the inky void, but the spotlights trained on the front of the building blinded her to anything beyond the tiled drive.

Jericho hesitated, tugging her closer. While his expression appeared relaxed, his powerful frame radiated tension. Muscles rigid, gaze alert, he scanned their surroundings for any potential threat.

Marcus waited for them just outside, his attention fixed on the sleek Mercedes parked beneath the covered archway. Despite Helen’s concerns, he seemed to be in no hurry to leave. Hands tucked into his pockets, he raised his head as Jericho approached. “She’s a work of art, isn’t she?” Marcus’ grin was full of masculine pride.

Jericho turned an appreciative eye to the luxurious sports car. “Nice piece of machinery.”

Helen brushed past them in a huff. “You and that car. You’ve heard what they say about men who overcompensate.” Her brittle laughter lacked humor.

She scurried to the passenger’s side of the silver coupe, whipped open the door, and set her purse on the seat. “We should go before one of your associates tries to draw us back in.” She motioned for Marcus to get in the car.

He cut her a look of annoyance before opening the driver’s door and sinking into the car’s rich interior.

Alex rolled her eyes at the woman’s antics. God forbid they deviate from Helen’s schedule.

The valet brought Victor’s car around, then parked it behind two other cars instead of pulling beside Marcus. The driver scrambled out of the sedan and waved them over, appearing rushed, even though there was only one other couple waiting.

Alex frowned. Jericho better not even think about tipping this guy. “Guess you need to own the place to receive preferential treatment.”

“So it would seem,” Jericho answered while his eyes remained locked on the incompetent man.

He tugged her slightly behind him as they walked, his body positioned in front of hers. His unease burned over her nerve endings. Jericho was sensing it too. Something felt off.

“Oh, wait,” Helen chirped. “I forgot my wrap. I’ll only be a minute.” She raced back, heels clacking a sharp staccato.

Alex tilted her head, watching Helen’s flight. Suspicion sparked to life.What if…?She lowered her blocks and focused her senses on Helen’s retreating back. The woman’s twisted emotions scraped through Alex’s system like razor blades.

“Jericho, it’s Helen,” she gasped.

He spun, responding to her alarm. She grabbed his arm and pulled. “We have to go,” she urged, shouting in her panic. “We have to go right now. Lord Steele!”

Marcus’ door winged opened, and he stood in the opening. Confusion creased the perfect contours of his face. Their eyes met, and a warning formed on her lips.

Too late.

His car detonated. The explosion sent shockwaves slamming into Alex’s body.

The world went silent…then progressed one pounding heartbeat at a time.

Thump.Marcus disappeared,consumed by a monstrous ball of fire.

Thump.The hungry explosion swelled, reaching for her with fiery fingers.

Thump. Jericho’s arms clamped around her, and a molten tidal wave of heat washed over their bodies.

Thump. Next, they were flying, thrown by the force of the blast.

They slammed into a wall of metal and glass, and time erupted in a deafening rush. Shouts. Alarms. Roaring flames.