Page 7 of One Dark Kiss (Grimm Bargains #2)

SEVEN

Rosalie

A n hour after dropping a rather grumpy Alexei off at his bar, two heavy trays of tacos heat my arms as I lug them out of the small diner to my SUV.

Thursday is taco night, and if I don t show up with extra hot sauce, Merlin will be cranky.

Not that Merlin s default setting isn t cranky, because it is, which is just one more reason I adore him.

A black car turns and drives partially up on the curb next to me. Startled, I back away. In impossibly choreographed movements, the two doors open, and a man reaches for me. I shrink and kick, too startled to drop the trays. Within seconds I m shoved inside a long town car.

The hulking badass slides in next to me and slams the door, and then we re driving away from safety.

I gape, fear tightening my limbs. I cannot believe how quickly that happened. Gulping, I look over at the man next to me. Who are you?

He doesn t answer. He s at least six-foot-five with buzz-cut dark hair and glacier-blue eyes.

He has to weigh a good two hundred and eighty pounds, and it s all muscle.

His face is an interesting configuration of dents and hollows, and his nose has been broken so many times the bridge is nearly flat.

He has cauliflower ears, obviously from boxing.

Terror rips through me, and I try to see outside the windows, but they re tinted so dark that only blurred images fly by.

I scoot toward the other side, for some reason not losing the tacos. They re not hot enough to make a decent weapon, but if I smash him in the face with the tinfoil tray, he ll at least be blinded.

Door s locked. His voice is as flat as his nose.

Across from me is a bench seat, and the partition between us and the driver is up.

I don t think you know what you re doing, I say.

He looks straight ahead and doesn t answer. My kidnapper wears slacks and a black jacket with an obvious bulge in the side. I m sure it s not his only weapon. It s a little embarrassing he kidnapped me without having to pull it.

The car fills with the aroma of fresh, spicy meat and melted cheese. His gaze flicks down to the two large platters. Family meal?

Four of them, I mutter. I don t suppose you ll let me go for a taco?

I m not entirely sure, but I think a hint of a smile twitches his lips. I surreptitiously reach to the side and try to open my door. Nothing happens.

Told you, locked from the outside. He still stares straight ahead.

I calculate my chances of stealing his weapon. I don t know how it s secured beneath that jacket, but a face full of tacos will at least give me a chance.

No need, he mutters, not looking at me again.

I blink. Excuse me?

Save the tacos. You re not in danger.

If that isn t a lie, I don t know what is. Right. You kidnap people for fun.

He lifts one gargantuan shoulder. Sometimes.

Who are you? I shift slightly toward him and get ready with the platters.

Doesn t matter, and don t hit me with the tacos. His voice holds certain threat. You won t get out of the car, so why take the chance?

He s not wrong. Maybe my best move for an escape is when we stop, but anybody who knows anything knows that you never let a kidnapper take you to a second location. Unfortunately, considering the car is moving, I don t have much of an option.

Is your door locked? I ask.

Of course.

I think he s lying. All right. New plan. I calculate the distance in the small interior of the vehicle. Getting between him and that door is going to be difficult, and the tacos are not hot enough to burn him right now.

The vehicle slows. I stiffen, and cold sweat breaks out on my brow. We roll to a stop. City sounds surround us, so we haven t reached some remote wooded area where they can bury my body. I try to take comfort from that thought.

I hear the driver s door open, and then shock of all shock, my door opens. I move to scramble out, but the hulk grabs my arm and yanks me toward him. Bruises instantly rise along my skin.

Hey, take it easy. I shove him with the same elbow.

I told you not to move.

I m starting to really hate this guy. No you didn t.

One female leg enters the car, a long foot trapped in a truly glorious Rene Caovilla sparkling pump.

It s odd to find them in pumps and not sandals.

A curvy body encased in a classy black Chanel dress then follows, before Lillian Sokolov takes her seat across from me.

The dress is a little tight on her. I recognize designer labels because Alana wears them all the time.

Sometimes I find one or two at the women s center, but it isn t often.

The door shuts again and the lock clicks loudly.

What is happening? I blurt out, glaring at Lillian.

Her lips tremble into a smile. I m so sorry about this.

I stare at the owner of one of the four powerful social media and AI companies in the world today.

She also happens to be Alexei s stepmother.

She has let her blondish hair slide into gray, and she appears boxier than she did before her youngest son died.

Her shoulders hunch as she clasps her hands together.

This is kidnapping, I say slowly, making sure she hears every word. I don t care who you are or what you own, I will have you arrested.

She wipes her eyes with one hand, and as she moves, a gorgeous festoon necklace, which has to be from the Victorian period, sparkles across her upper chest. The amethyst and pearls decorating the filigree are stunning.

In fact, the jewels sparkle at me just like Alexei s tattoo from the panther on his neck.

I know, but I just have to talk to you. She swallows and wipes away mascara that has pooled on one cheek, crow s feet digging deep from her eyes. I won t hurt you.

It s still a kidnapping, I say boldly, trying to hide the relief that filters through me. Do you want to explain?

She sniffs toward my platter of tacos. Is that what stinks?

It could be your bodyguard here. I jerk my head toward the guy to my right, although truth be told, he smells like a woodsy cologne. Kidnappers should stink. They should have their own specialized smell.

My thoughts zing to Alexei, and then I discount that idea. I quite like the way he smells. What do you want, Lillian?

That s Mrs. Sokolov to you, she says, her chin up and wobbling just a little.

Sorry, but the whole kidnapping thing negates any formality we might ve had. I glare.

Her smile softens her face but doesn t reach her sad eyes. I like you.

I m losing my temper. Anger shakes my voice. Now tell me why you kidnapped me, before I call the police. It s a bluff, because my purse is still in my car. I usually forget it, and I have an account at the taco place, so I didn t need my wallet. I have no phone to use right now.

She stares at me for several moments, her gaze somber, and I try to stay strong. There s no doubt she s still grieving from the death of her son. Cal. Her sadness permeates the entire vehicle. Finally, she speaks again as the car winds to wherever we re going.

Have you spoken with Alexei? she asks.

I m his attorney, I say softly. I believe you already know that fact.

Yes, I do. What are his plans?

I blink. His plans?

Yes. Did he say anything about Hologrid Hub?

I stare at her, having just learned that Hologrid Hub can heal wounds.

I ve always considered the platform to be a lot of fun.

It uses a 3D holographic social media platform where people actually feel like they re in the same space together.

I ve enjoyed meeting friends in faraway, unreal places.

The AI that Hologrid Hub utilizes can put a group on the moon for a short time with their friends—and apparently heal members of the Sokolov family. One member, anyway.

He didn t say a word about Hologrid Hub, I mutter.

You have to know that anything he says to me is covered by attorney-client privilege.

Although, truth be told, the guy hasn t said a thing.

I would assume, and again I m assuming here, I say quietly, that his main focus is proving himself innocent and not returning to prison.

That s the wrong outcome here, she says, leaning slightly toward me and smelling of gardenias. Hendrix is the rightful heir, and I can t see him be killed. I can t lose another son. Her voice breaks at the end.

I stiffen. What do you mean?

She sighs. Please. Alexei will kill sweet Hendrix. Everybody knows that Alexei murdered David Fairfax. Alexei was brutally in love with Blythe, even though I m sure he was one of many. She always kept a stable of young hunks to play with.

Do you truly believe Alexei killed David? I ask.

Of course he killed David. Alexei had a terrible temper. I m sure he still does. You might want to stay on your toes around him. Tears pool in her eyes. You are quite beautiful, even beneath the frugal clothing.

The clothing is actually expensive, or at least it was before I purchased it second hand. I m thinking you have a crush on me, I retort, trying to hold on to my mad and not feel sorry for her.

The mammoth man next to me shifts his weight, and I can t tell if it s out of amusement or irritation. Please get to the point, Mrs. Sokolov. I use my best lawyer voice.

This is just a warning so you can keep yourself and, hopefully, Hendrix safe, Lillian whispers.

I allow both of my eyebrows to slowly raise since I m not going to show this woman fear, even though her bodyguard could probably snap my neck without taking a deep breath. What kind of warning?

Alexei is dangerous, and worse yet, he s obsessive. If he becomes fixated on you, he ll kill everybody around you to isolate you, the same way he tried to do with Blythe.

Are you saying there are more murders besides David Fairfax?

She pales until even her lips look blue.

There are plenty more murders. The best thing for everybody is to contain Alexei in prison, and that means safety for you and everybody you care about.

I study her. He s your stepson. Last I heard, Hologrid Hub isn t in the lead of the four social media giants. Undoubtedly, Alexei has skills beneficial to your company.

She blinks once. You shouldn t know about that.

Yet I do. How the social media servers run is a secret to most people, but I m on the inside on this one.

They run on crystals, and there s a reason the same families have been in power through the beginning of time.

These people have an affinity with certain crystals that grant health and strength and power.

This health helped them to avoid plagues during the early years and thus prosper.

It s only recently that the four families learned how to take those crystals and use them to power their social media servers.

I wonder idly what would happen if Alexei and Hendrix both charge the crystal at the same time. You might need Alexei.

Her face goes slack for the briefest of seconds. We don t. Her gaze flicks away, and she presses her lips tightly together, showing deception and a healthy amount of fear.

So they do need Alexei.

I think idly about the death of Cal, Alexei s half brother and Lillian s son. Had he been the one to charge the amethyst crystals that power their servers? Has his death actually hurt Hologrid Hub? Lillian seems terrified of Alexei returning.

You and Alexei don t like each other, do you? I ask.

He doesn t like any of us, she says, showing a hint of a southern accent.

I perk up instantly. This is new. I really don t know anything about her, except she married Alexei s father and became one of the most powerful women in the entire world.

I ll need a background check on her. Perhaps Alexei going to prison was exactly what she had wanted. The result she seems to want right now.

How s Hendrix doing? I ask. He s in charge of Hologrid Hub, isn t he?

Yes, and he s very dedicated to the company. There is no place for Alexei in the organization.

Yet Hologrid Hub was started by his father, I say. Don t you want the brothers to work together?

Her eyes flare and the blue darkens. They re not brothers.

They re half brothers.

The car rolls to a stop.

Remember what I said, Lillian says, looking much older than her years.

You need to see the danger in Alexei before it s too late.

Also, it s hard to explain, but to look professional to our, um, organization, it will be better for him if he marries.

He ll want to look stable and settled. Do not get caught up in his schemes.

Organization? Why would investors in Hologrid Hub care about his personal life?

As the bodyguard opens the door, Lillian leans forward to stare at my three-story, light-pink Victorian townhouse.

Your home is charming, she says softly. I know about your boarders, and I know how much you care about them.

Alexei will take everything you love and destroy it, just so he can have you all to himself.

She rubs her arms as if freezing in the warm car.

I believe you have two best friends, Alana Beaumont and Ella Rendale, as well.

I laugh. The idea of anybody getting to Alana Beaumont, now that she is with Thorn Beathach, is hilarious. Alana is safe from any danger, don t worry. Thorn will never let anything happen to her. He owns the number one social media company while also running the Irish mob.

I don t even want to think what he will do to anybody who tries to hurt her now.

I wonder if Lillian has any idea that Thorn possibly killed her youngest son.

I doubt it. As for Ella, she can disappear on a moment s notice if needed.

Her family owns TimeGem moments, one of the four powerful social media companies—although her stepmother has kicked her out of the family. For now.

The bodyguard steps out of the car and holds a hand to help me out.

I have to take it, since I m balancing the two platters.

I look behind the vehicle, not surprised to see my SUV also parking by the curb.

Another hulking bodyguard jumps out, tosses me the keys, and moves toward the other side of Lillian s car.

The guy next to me snatches the keys out of the air and then places them gently on my tin foil wrapped tacos. Thank you for not throwing these in my face.

I blink. I didn t see a reason to do that.

You re smart. With those words, he gets back into the car.

Lillian leans over and looks at me, her expression somber. Remember what I said. You re in more danger than you can imagine right now.

The door slams shut, and the car smoothly drives away. I shiver in the sudden cold and look up at my refuge. A window from the second floor opens, and Merlin pokes his gray head out. It s about time. You re half an hour late with the tacos. We re starving.