Page 40

CIRCE

D ays and miles.

Time, time, time.

I’ve all but lost track of it. What I know for certain is that Ananke and Dom moved the seat of the operation to Algiers. Only because I recognized the lettering on the crate they loaded up with Ananke’s lab equipment before they hooded me and took me to be transported.

Since Estonia, I have been hobbled and chained. Heavily guarded, often sedated.

When I wake from my most recent lapse of reality, I’m in a colossal bed.

The new digs are unreal. Palatial grounds, gardens, ballrooms, and viewing galleries.

My lodgings see a marked improvement from the cold cell in Italy.

Not that I care. My luxury bedroom is a fancy prison. My doors lock from the outside, my tiny windows don’t open. A stunning view of the surrounding countryside keeps me from spiraling into a pit that I’ll never crawl out of.

Distraction. That’s all I have. I occupy myself tracking guard movements, assessing security. Old habits.

No one comes. No one goes.

I’ve been taken to exercise, running mostly, still handcuffed. I’m bathed by servants who never look me in the eye. Ananke has met with me multiple times, carefully curating our conversations with key questions. She’s assessing me, I’m sure.

Today is the first time she hasn’t visited.

Easily dismissed as a fluke until a steady string of guests begin to arrive. The sound of vehicles up the opulent estate’s driveway is nearly constant outside my window.

And not just any guests.

The crème de la crème of the wealthy and eccentric. High ranking officials from governments spanning several continents. Some less than reputable celebrities. And of course, the star players of the underworld.

They’re all here: Triad, Yakuza, a crew of hooligans who might be the Alberts out of the UK.

Morning wanes into afternoon and the train continues. Limos and SUVs deliver an alarming variety of potential clients. Or victims.

What could Ananke be planning to show all of these people? Is she really so bold as to think she can actually unite the global elite under one umbrella?

Scratch that. She absolutely is.

But is that really the endgame?

As night descends, the lights bathe the grounds in color and texture. Music vibrates through the walls. The affair drags on.

For two days.

She’s hosting no less than a hundred dignitaries and their entourages. It’s outrageous. It’s loud.

“Ugh. Shut up!” I growl, pacing after hours of rowdy voices and thumping music.

Diving onto my bed, I cram my pillow around my head.

I don’t notice the door opening.

Not until I hear a clunk as it closes and the shuffle of feet. Instantly, I’m rolling off the bed, into a crouch, my hand between the mattress and the bedframe. The long sliver of wood that I broke off of the bar in the closet sharpened nicely into a shiv.

In the dark of my chambers, I wait to catch a glimpse of my company. If it’s a guard, I can’t risk wasting my only weapon and having it confiscated.

Instead of being disarmed by one of Ananke’s goon squad, I’m taken completely off guard by the hoarse whisper from across the room.

“Circe?”

My heart leaps at the sound of his voice.

“Ero?!” Throwing caution to the wind, I spring from my hiding spot and rush into his waiting arms. Nothing has ever felt so right. So goddamned good.

Until I realize what his presence means.

“No, you’re not supposed to be here, you were supposed to get out!” I almost shove him away.

My hands disobey, clutching him tighter. “You dumbass!”

“You always know just what to say to make a guy feel welcome.”

Balling my fists, I debate socking him across the face. My lips win the toss up of what I need more. Ero grunts in masculine satisfaction as we kiss.

So many questions roll through my head.

I need to ask him how he got in, if he got caught. How he survived the bullet wound. Where he’s been and why he fucked up so badly trying to rescue me.

Assuming this is a rescue mission at all.

His tongue twines into my mouth, melting away my anxieties.

Oh, fuck it.

Desire takes over completely as his hands find my skin, dragging at my loose blouse, dipping into the lip of my lounge pants. Instantly I’m buzzing from head to toe. Longing replaces worry.

A giddy, euphoric fugue consumes me as Ero cups my ass, pulling me against his hard, chiseled figure. This. This is the only escape I need.

“Circe, I’ve missed you.”

“Shut up and—” A yelp of delight erupts as he lifts me up. Tucking me tightly against him, he dips my upper half back, inhaling as he traces down my front.

Letting go of his shoulders, I suspend from his sturdy core, arching back and unfolding my shirt over my head. My arms extend, wheeling through the air as Ero turns slowly, kissing his way along my chest so delicately.

Those kisses intensify and I sink back toward him, settling and sliding down. My legs hook around his hips, just above his ass while he continues his reverent exploration of my exposed breasts. He fixes that razor sharp focus on each nipple, outlining my areolas, spiraling in torturously.

We should be strategizing.

Trying to escape. But days of laying in silence and hopeless surrender to my captor gave me little else to do but plot. I’ve scoured this place top to bottom.

There’s no way out.

Except this.

A temporary reprieve.

“You smell so fucking good,” I bury my nose and my lips in his hair, breathing him in luxuriously.

“Almost as good as you taste.”

“It feels like forever since you did…”

“This?” He swoops me down onto the bed, whipping back and scooping my loose linen pants off in one motion. His bare chest catches the orange glow from the lighting outside, casting him in amber, a sculpted masterpiece of masculine majesty.

“Mmm … go on.”

“You know I had a plan…”

“What happened?”

“Flew right out the window the minute I saw you.” Warm tingling grazes along my inner thigh as he nuzzles along my prickling flesh. Working his way in, he wastes no time before brushing his lower lip along my lower lips.

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious or if it’s pillow talk.” Stroking his hair back, I subtly press the back of his head.

Hint, hint.

“Both. New plan first. Other plan later.”

It’s too easy to trust him. Too easy to give in to this.

No more words. Just touch, communication through sensation. Ero samples the budding dew of my arousal, his eyes closing to savor me.

I love the way he tastes me.

I love it even more when he hooks his arms around my thighs and goes to work on my clit like it’s his goddamn life’s mission.

His tongue is agile, delicate, and lightning fast. Perfect for amplifying my lust, sending butterflies fluttering through my tummy, pleasure coursing like a river through my veins.

Riding that steadily rising tide, I roll my hips with every subtle nod of his head. Soon, the rhythm swells into a deep ache in my core that only grows with the heat blooming through my chest.

I want him to fill me, enter me.

But he holds back, never even teasing me with those fingers that have devastated me so many times before. Instead, he focuses solely on the dance of his tongue, lancing pulse after pulse of rising ecstasy through my swollen apex.

The result is a much longer buildup, a single focal point of bliss. It’s all the more arousing for its simple intensity. It builds higher and higher, dragging me along toward my first surrender.

Ero’s moans set the charge.

His palm pressing down on my lower abdomen primes the detonator.

The fingers on his other hand find the tip of my nipple, pinching hard. Setting me off like a depth charge underwater.

Both of my hands clamp over my mouth, barely containing my scream.

Euphoria bursts behind my eyelids, the whole world flashing neon pink in showers of tingling sparks. Thrilling currents sizzle through my legs.

I beckon Ero toward me with tingling fingers. Up my front, his chest warm and soft against my skin.

My palms find his face, holding it closely and kissing him as hard as I can. We pause, breath trembling as Ero presses his forehead to mine.

“I want you so bad,” I whisper, “I need you so, so much…I just?—”

There aren’t words to adequately describe how I love him. What I feel.

“We’re,” he says gruffly, but makes no move to remove his clothes. “I just wish we had more time.”

“What do you mean?”

The door bursts in suddenly, guards rushing in and fanning out.

“There he is! He fucking broke out again,” one man growls. “I warned you what would happen if you got out…”

Three of them converge on the bed, drawing billy clubs, tearing him off me. Two brutal thuds of their weapons subdue Ero’s struggle.

“You bastard!” I scream, red flashing across my vision.

I’m scrambling off the bed toward them indifferent to my naked form. Rage blinds me as I lunge for one, knifing stiff fingers into his wrist. His grip falters, another hand catching me across the face. Rolling with the blow, I launch myself at them again, bearing my teeth.

The other two make it to the door.

“It’s alright, enchantress. I’ll see you soon.” Ero stays calm, intently focused on me as I close in on the one left to block my path. A wayward kick has me dodging, staggering to the side. Regaining my footing, I pounce.

His muzzle flashes and something pelts me in the shoulder hard enough to knock me off balance. My hand reflexively flies to the site, just making out the outline of a steel dart.

Fuck. Tranquilizer …

Vision clouding. Legs turning to jello.

Everything goes black.

The chink of clinking metal wakes me.

I’m drowsy. Head’s swimming.

Eyelids and lips feel so heavy, won’t open.

Sending out signals to my body, my fingers twitch, then my toes. A weight hangs from my wrists. More than the pull of the fading drugs in my system. Manacles. Chains dangling.

Summoning more than just a little bit of anger, I finally force my eyes open.

Even in the faint light slicing in though the rim of the door, I wince a little. Blink. Move my muscles. Better.