Page 32 of Forbidden Empire (Sinful Gods #1)

Eighteen

E SME

My skin buzzed, like I’d been plugged into a socket, every nerve on. My fingers wouldn’t stop drumming on the window.

Tap-tap-tap.

Like they had somewhere to go but nowhere to be.

But my lungs? Crushed.

Like someone poured concrete in my chest, breaths came short and fast.

Rhea’s voice ran circles in my skull. “I’ll peel the skin from your pretty face.”

And then there was Aidon, with his stare, all sharp edges and want.

This war we were about to start… Vegas would be picking up bodies for days.

I paced Aidon’s bedroom, back and forth, five steps, turn, five steps back.

I’d worn a path in the carpet by now. Forty stories down, the Strip threw neon everywhere, a river of lights and trouble under our feet.

Cars crawled. People scurried around, clueless. No one had a clue about the blood that was coming.

“Fuck this waiting,” I muttered, leaning into the window.

The glass was cold against my skin. My reflection stared back at me, eyes gone dark, face all angles. I didn’t even look like myself. I needed to move. Hunt. Get my hands around Rhea’s throat.

And after? When Rhea was dead, and Zeno was dealt with? What then?

I’d slept in Aidon’s bed, plotted with him, tangled up in every way possible. Hatred and lust. That was what we had. But when our enemies were gone, what the hell would be left?

The air changed behind me. Sandalwood and gunmetal. The sound of expensive shoes on marble. I didn’t turn. I already knew who it was.

Aidon’s reflection lined up beside mine in the glass. His jaw set so hard I could practically hear the crack. “You haven’t said a word since last night.”

I pivoted, shoulder blades digging into the icy window. That muscle in his jaw wouldn’t quit. His eyes were all steel, but under it, something flickered—a split-second of doubt he’d never admit to.

“What’s to say?” It came out rough, like I’d swallowed gravel. “We both know what comes next.”

He closed the gap in two steps, hands on my upper arms, before I could blink. His grip was punishing, but his chest was warm against mine. I inhaled him: sandalwood, whiskey, and some dark note that screamed violence. His heart pounded, way too fast for a guy trying to play it cool.

“Esme.” My name, low and strained. Almost reverent, almost damning. He touched the cut on my cheek, thumb gentle. “You don’t have to fight this battle. Ares and I can handle it.”

I jerked back. “You’re wrong, Aidon.” My hands curled into fists, nails biting skin. “If I don’t fight, she wins. That’s not going to happen. Not ever.”

He clenched his teeth so hard the scar above his eyebrow stood out, white and angry. He shoved a hand through his hair, wrecking the neat look he always went for.

“Why won’t you let me protect you?” He just stood there, staring, like the answer might write itself in thin air.

I laughed, I couldn’t help the brittleness of the sound. “Who said that was your job?”

I kept moving until we were nose to nose, chin up, daring him to flinch. His breath was hot, and I could feel it on my lips.

“If I’m remembering right, last time I asked who you were protecting me from, you said it was you.”

“Goddammit,” he snapped. His eyes went dark and stormy, all that anger wrapped up in a painfully handsome package. “You know I would never hurt you. Even if there were times I thought about it.”

“Sure you did,” I said, smirking. “I buy that.”

“You can’t blame me.” He looked like he wanted to punch a wall. “Every time I think I can trust you, you pull something like stealing Zeno’s box.”

“And yet, you still want to play bodyguard? Who’s the threat now, Aidon?”

“Fucking everyone, Esme!” His voice ricocheted off the walls, way too loud for the space between us. “Don’t you get it?”

“I’m not sure I do,” I said, chin up again. “Do you get that I can protect myself?”

“Oh? Is that what you were doing when Rhea abducted you, and I had to show up and bail you out?”

That stung. I hated that he was right, that I’d needed saving at all.

If Aidon hadn’t shown up, Rhea would have kept going.

I knew it. He knew it. Still, I wasn’t about to say it out loud.

“Rhea used me as bait. What she wants is you,” I said, refusing to give him the satisfaction of being right.

“I disagree with that fact. You’re the one stealing everyone’s fucking secrets, Esme.” He took a step closer, close enough that I caught the whiskey on his breath. “Maybe if you cut that shit out, they wouldn’t be hunting you like a prize deer.”

“Oh, that’s rich!” My palm hit his chest, hard, moving him not even a fraction. “Collecting secrets is your fucking business, Aidon! Your entire empire is built on blackmail and threats!” My voice cracked at the end, damn it. “Don’t you dare try to blame me for all this shit.”

“I’m not blaming you, Christ, Esme!” He caught my wrist, fingers digging in, tight enough to bruise. “But if you didn’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong, maybe we wouldn’t be in this fucking mess with bodies dropping all over Vegas!”

“My nose?” I tore my arm away, skin hot and burning where his hand had been. “I was only trying to help you, you ungrateful bastard!”

“Help me?” He slammed his fist into the wall next to my head, hard enough to crack the plaster. “I don’t need your fucking help with that.”

I stuck my finger into his chest, jabbing hard. “If it wasn’t for me,” I hissed, “you’d never have known about Zeno’s vault or how to get in. You’d be dead in a ditch somewhere.”

His face was all of a sudden right in mine, so close I could count the flecks in his eyes. “You came to me for help!” he shot back. “You were running scared when you crashed through my door!”

His breath was hot on my lips. The air between us buzzed, a mess of anger and something way more complicated.

Rage and want, all tangled up, and I couldn’t tell where one started or ended. My heart hammered so hard it hurt.

“Fuck!” He turned, stalking over to the glass like he was about to burst through. His reflection broke up across the window, multiplying the fury on his face.

I watched his shoulders knot up beneath his shirt as he pressed his hands against the window frame.

His knuckles turned white. There was a thin, bright line of blood trailing down from where he'd torn his hand open on the wall. Seeing it made my stomach twist, not satisfaction, not even close.

It was something worse.

My throat tightened, like I was being choked.

I’d seen Aidon angry plenty of times before. I’d watched him shoot a man in the head and not blink. But this wasn’t the usual. This wasn’t even close.

This was raw. And it was about me.

No way would I ever let him know how my pulse hammered when he looked at me like that, like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to strangle me or rip my clothes off.

Even now, with Vegas about to burn to the ground, I was thinking about the weight of him pinning me to his bed, his teeth sinking into my neck, his hands moving everywhere, all at once.

He stared down at the Strip, shoulders shifting with every rough, uneven breath.

Neon glare from the casino signs painted red and blue shadows across his face, turning him into…I wasn’t sure…something carved from stone.

A statue, unmoving. He wouldn’t look at me. Maybe he just couldn’t.

I wondered if he saw in himself what I saw in the mirror.

Someone drowning. Someone fighting the current and losing, arms flailing to stay above water. Someone was afraid of what would happen if they stopped struggling and let themselves sink.

Whatever the hell this was, neither of us had the nerve to be honest or vulnerable about it.

The back-and-forth, the weird little dance, was wearing me out.

If I was honest with myself, I couldn’t even tell who was the cat and who was the mouse anymore.

I’d had more than enough chances to walk away from this mess, but here I was, tangled up in it, neck-deep and nowhere else to go.

I let out a sigh of relief when I heard footsteps coming up behind us.

We both turned, and Ares was standing in the doorway.

He looked at us, and the tension in the room must have been obvious because he hesitated, shifting his weight like he was thinking about turning around and going right back out.

“Boss?” he asked. “You got a second? There’s been another development.”

“Come in,” Aidon said, waving him over and moving away from the window. “What’s up?”

“We got word that Rhea relocated.”

Aidon looked like he was about to lose it. “Again? We were finalizing the plans to invade.”

Ares nodded, his mouth a grim line. “Yeah, I know.”

“Fuck!” Aidon snapped. “Now we have to start over? Is this the worst game of whack-a-mole ever?”

“I know,” Ares said again, like he was agreeing with every word. “But if we move fast, we can still catch up to her.”

“So where is she now?” Aidon asked, and this time he sounded bone-weary.

“She and a small army of men are holed up in Blue Diamond.”

Aidon blinked. “What the fuck is in Blue Diamond?”

“Exactly.” Ares nodded, a faint smirk on his face. “Nothing. That’s why it’s perfect for her and her minions to lay low.”

I darted over to the table, where we’d laid out a mess of state maps.

“I know it.” My finger traced the lines on the map. “There’s what. There are fewer than three hundred people in Blue Diamond. Only a few buildings. It shouldn’t be hard to find her.”

“We’ve got her. She’s holed up in one of the tiny compounds on the west side of town.” Ares stated.

“That’s perfect! Let’s go!” My pulse jumped. If we could get to Rhea and take her out, we could finally move on with our lives.

Aidon made a low, irritated sound at my excitement, immediately shaking his head.

“No fucking way, Esme,” he snapped. “You’re not going anywhere near that compound. Ares and I can handle it.”

My mood did a complete 180, from thrilled to pissed in two seconds flat.

“That’s ridiculous,” I fired back, crossing my arms and digging my heel into the floor.

Aidon’s eyes narrowed. He stalked over, closing the gap between us in about two steps, glaring down at me.