– Keria –
We had everything in place. All that was left was to wait. At least, that’s what we thought as we slipped away from Araminta’s quarters.
It was 8:30 p.m. to us, but it was morning to the vamps. And while Valentine’s arrival gave us the perfect opportunity to slip into the castle without being noticed, it meant we had a long night ahead of us.
The plan was to take him (and most of Araminta’s clan) down during their formal dinner. That wouldn’t happen until 4:00 a.m.
Yeah.
So we had hours of time to lay low before we needed to even think about getting into position. Of course, we’d explained all of this to Araminta. She told us about a storeroom on the ground level that’s rarely used. As far as she knew, no one had been in the room in years.
It wasn’t even locked.
✦ ✦ ✦
Making our way from Araminta’s quarters to the storeroom was uneventful. We’ve worked so many jobs where cameras are an issue. It was weird to not have to worry about them.
Weird for me, that is. Nyx thoroughly enjoyed it.
“Why is your hand on my ass again?” I asked.
She was behind me, but I could feel her grinning.
“Where else should it be?” she whispered.
“Nyx, baby, I swear to the gods, this is not the place to get all horned up. We’re literally surrounded by bloodthirsty killers. If they find out we’re here, they’ll rip us apart.”
My words sounded serious, but my delivery was playful—and maybe just a little stressed.
“Doesn’t that do something for you, though?” she asked.
I stopped and turned toward her.
“Do something for me?”
“Yeah,” she continued. “Like, if this isn’t a fuckable moment, what is?”
“Be glad that I love you, freak.”
She leaned in close. I could feel her breath on my cheek, a sweet, familiar scent. I swear, there was heat radiating from her. When she spoke, her voice was a sultry whisper.
“If you’re suggesting you’re not ready to follow my every deviant command, even here, even now, in this place, then I may need to remind you who you belong to.”
Her hand found my inner thigh, caressing the sensitive spot just inches below my entrance. I very nearly came right there in the hallway.
And then, just like that, she was all business again.
“Now, where’s that darn storeroom?” she asked innocently.
✦ ✦ ✦
Araminta’s assessment of the storeroom was correct. It looked long-forgotten.
There were piles of furniture—cabinets, shelves, couches, tables, and even beds. These were orderly for the most part, stacked in awkward arrangements depending on each piece’s dimensions. We made our way to the back, opting for a spot on the floor behind a large stack. It was better not to leave any obvious indication we were there, just to be on the safe side.
We took off our packs and grabbed a couple of protein bars. They’re chalky and chewy, but they’re better than nothing. Nyx eyed me the entire time she ate. I felt like a conquest she was planning.
I savored every minute of it.
See, this is what I love about her. We’ve been together for years, but it always feels as electric as it felt when we first met. We fucked like bunnies for weeks back then. We still do.
I know. It’s not supposed to be like that. Most couples find their rhythm, and the passion fades. Sure, the sex is higher quality because there’s emotional intimacy to back it up, but the frequency drops dramatically. That’s the norm.
We’re not normal.
We didn’t have a heightened rhythm in the beginning. We just had our rhythm. We fell in sync, and it’s been like that ever since. And before you go thinking that makes us some kind of fucking fairy tale, don’t forget how we pay the bills.
We’re constantly risking our lives. I think that’s part of why we’re connected like we are. As much as I hate to admit it, she’s right. It is hot. Plus, it creates a kind of intimacy that’s damn near magical.
✦ ✦ ✦
We finished eating, and I thought we’d likely make out a bit, maybe more, when we heard something neither of us expected to hear. A phone.
“What the fuck?” Nyx said. “That’s inside the room.”
I crawled to the nearest makeshift aisle and peeked around the corner. Near the door, sitting on a small table, was an old rotary phone. It was ringing. I was about to share this information with Nyx when the door opened.
It was Zillah. Her guard was down. Why shouldn’t it be in this place? She didn’t even do a visual sweep of the room. Instead, she just closed the door and reached for the handset.
I looked over my shoulder to Nyx and whispered, “Zillah.”
“You are early,” Zillah said. She sounded positively bored. There was a pause and then, “Be that as it may, my instructions are to be followed to the letter. If someone else heard the phone, it would create an unwanted complication.”
What the fuck was that fridged bitch up to?
She listened for a bit and then said, “Yes. Two small devices, one on each boot. I believe they are explosives. Clever, really. They would have made for an excellent distraction—had I not known to look for them.”
Zillah’s voice wasn’t loud, but it carried to the back of the room where we hid. Even without seeing her, Nyx could hear her. I made eye contact with her, and we both scowled. This was not good.
“It does not matter now. They are here, they think their presence is unknown, and the traitor is unaware that she is compromised. Before this night is out, I will have curried the favor of a powerful ally.”
My skin crawled. This changed everything.
“You will have your reward,” Zillah continued. “Just attend to your last task, Margaret. I will handle the rest.”
With that, she hung up and left the room. She seemed to have no idea we were there.
✦ ✦ ✦
I slumped on the floor, my back to an ancient bookshelf.
“Margaret,” Nyx said. “Old Marge.”
“Yeah,” I said. “That one stings.”
“That one pisses me the fuck off,” Nyx countered. “She sold us out for a fucking vamp.”
“What do you think her ‘last task’ is?” I asked.
“I have no idea, but it can’t be good. We’ve been around her plenty. She almost certainly has our hair. Maybe even our blood. Fuck. This whole thing just went sideways.”
“What do we do?” I asked. “Abort?”
Nyx motioned around her. “From here? We’re kinda stuck in it now, chica. Plus, we don’t run. That’s not what we do.”
She was right, of course. That’s not what we do.
“Agreed,” I said. “But the original plan is fucked.”
“Time for a new one,” she said. “It’s just you and me, babe. Like always.”
“Like always,” I echoed.