A Touch of Crimson

  “Lindsay,” Adrian emphasized, “is still recuperating.”

  Jason studied him openly. “But she’s been up. She . . . ate.”

  “Like a lumberjack.”

  “How’s her arm?” Elijah asked, his face studiously impassive.

  “Healing nicely.”

  “Good.” The lycan gave a brisk nod of satisfaction.

  Adrian crossed his arms, appraising Elijah. There was no longer any doubt the lycan was an Alpha, not after watching him with the other lycans when they cleaned out the Hurricane nest. Also no doubt he was dangerous—his inherent dominance and ability to draw other lycans into following his lead could only result in trouble. For now, however, he was committed to Lindsay. She’d saved his hide—more than once, he said. He would repay that debt by protecting her with his life and, right now, that was just the level of loyalty Adrian needed to keep her safe.

  “I just wanted to check with you,” Jason began, moving to the dining table, “about our plans to head back up to Utah tomorrow. Is that timeline still doable?”

  “I said it was.” Adrian’s voice was low and smooth, but he had to make a concerted effort not to clench his fists as Jason paused before the very spot where he’d been buried inside Lindsay just moments earlier. “Six o’clock sharp I want to be on the road.”

  “Okay.” Jason set his hand on the table and looked at him. “Helena’s in Vegas. She wants to see you.”

  “I’ll meet with her as soon as I change. Elijah, stay with Lindsay.”

  Adrian headed toward his bedroom on the opposite side of the living area from Lindsay’s. He closed the door and sat on the edge of the bed, exhaling harshly before picking up the phone and hitting the button that connected him to her room.

  It took her a long time to answer. “Hello?”

  “Linds . . . Are you okay?”

  She sighed. “No. I’m pretty far from okay.”

  His eyes closed. Her embarrassment and confusion were tangible. “I have to go out. Elijah will stay with you. When I get back, you and I will talk.”

  “All right.”

  “If you need or want anything while I’m gone, charge it to the room.”

  “Oh god.” She groaned. “Please don’t buy me off.”

  “Wouldn’t think of it. You’re priceless.”

  There was another long pause. When her voice came again, it was laced with steel. “You’re right, Adrian. You can’t afford me. The price is too high. I won’t let you pay it.”

  He looked at the closed door and cursed under his breath. She needed his attention and reassurance after what they’d just shared, but with the others here he could do nothing to soothe her. There were things he couldn’t yet say, but could show her, if only they had privacy. “We’ll talk when I get back,” he said again.

  “Be careful.”

  “Stay out of trouble.” Adrian returned the receiver to the cradle and pushed to his feet. The sooner he took care of business, the sooner he could return to Lindsay.

  Lindsay took a second shower. When she came out of the bathroom, there was another outfit laid out on the bed. This one was on a hanger and covered by a boutique’s protective bag. She revealed the garment inside, finding the outrageously priced tags still attached. It was a beautiful ensemble, with chocolate-hued palazzo pants paired with a multihued turquoise and gold shell. Expensive and elegant, so suited to Adrian’s taste.A makeup case sat beside it, filled with brand-new MAC makeup. And lying innocuously on the bed beneath it all was a money envelope branded with the hotel’s logo, filled with a two-inch-thick stack of crisp hundred-dollar bills.

  She ran her hands down her face with a groan. She was in so far over her head she was drowning. Adrian was too much for her. She couldn’t handle it. Couldn’t handle him. The looks he gave her, the way he spoke to her and touched her . . . whatever the hell they were doing wasn’t a fling for him. And no matter what she said, no matter how hard she tried, he was determined to have her at any cost.

  She dressed and made herself presentable, then settled into the seat Adrian had occupied earlier and called her dad.

  “Eddie Gibson, Gibson Automotive,” he answered.

  “Hey, Dad.” She heard the whirring of air tools in the background, and her throat tightened with homesickness. Her father didn’t know about the darker aspects of her life, but he knew she was unusual and he loved her unconditionally anyway. “It’s me. Sorry I didn’t call sooner.”

  “Hey, baby. Are you feeling better?” His beloved voice was gruff with concern.

  Frowning, she asked, “Better? Yes, I feel good. Great, actually.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” A relieved sigh crossed the line between them. “I was worried when I couldn’t get ahold of you. Every time I tried your cell, it went straight to voice mail.”

  “Yeah. I haven’t charged it since I got here. It might’ve died.”

  “Tell Adrian I appreciate him calling and letting me know you’re all right. If he hadn’t done that, I’d probably have called the national guard to hunt you down.”

  “Adrian called you?” A tingle moved through her. With everything else he had on his plate, he’d taken a parent’s concern into consideration and went out of his way to alleviate it. His thoughtfulness touched her deeply.

  “Yesterday. Told me you were knocked out by a stomach bug. You should take it easy for the next couple of days and drink lots of liquids. And you might consider investing some time in Adrian Mitchell. He sounded like he really cares about you. Could be something there.”

  If only. She’d finally met a man she didn’t have to lie to or hide from, and she couldn’t have him. “Are you taking care of yourself?”

  “Knowing you’ll nag me if I don’t, yes. Went over to Sam’s last night and played poker, too.”

  “Good.” She’d been pushing him to get out more. A poker night with the guys was a good first step.

  “Where are you? The caller ID says Mondego Resort.”

  “It’s a Gadara property,” she explained, having noted the Gadara Enterprises logo on the bedside phone as she dialed.

  “So you’re already back in the saddle then. You need to take care of yourself. You’ve always pushed yourself too hard.”

  “Look who’s talking,” she shot back. “I’ll make you a deal: every time you take a day off, I’ll match it with one of my own.”

  He laughed, and she absorbed the sound with delight. “All right. Deal.”

  “I love you. I’ll call again in a couple days, but if you need anything or just want to chat, I’ll make sure my phone is charged.”

  “Will do. Love you.”

  Returning the receiver to the cradle, Lindsay stood and moved to leave the bedroom, grabbing her messenger bag on the way out. The living area had been devoid of masculine voices for a while now, but she still took a deep breath of courage before opening the door. Hearing her father’s voice had helped her get her focus back, but the feelings of vulnerability and exposure remained. Adrian got to her. As much as she wished it otherwise, she had so few defenses against him.

  Lindsay found Elijah waiting by the couch, standing with his arms crossed. He was a big, formidable presence. His olive green T-shirt and loose-fitting jeans did little to hide the power of his body. There was such a sense of solidness and steadfastness to him; he was the kind of guy you could trust with your life. He reminded her of Adrian in that respect. Adrian, too, was august and stalwart in an extraordinary way. The feeling he gave of anchoring her was the most difficult aspect of him to resist. She desired him, she liked him, she trusted him. And when she was with him, she felt peaceful, which was a state of being the vampires had stolen from her that long-ago nightmarish day.

  Adrian had given her equanimity back to her. But to return the favor, she had to let him go. As much as he gave to her, she could take everything away from him in a single selfish moment.

  “Hi, El.” She smiled at the handsome lycan. “How are you?”

  “Alive.??
? Elijah’s deep voice rumbled across the room. “In large part, because of you.”

  “Whatever. You were kicking ass. I just tried to be more than a helpless human.”

  “Helpless.” He snorted. “No, you’re not helpless. You’re fucking crazy.”

  Lindsay nodded grimly. “For the most part.”

  His brilliant emerald eyes swept over her in a clinically examining glance. “How are you feeling? Is the arm hurting you at all?”

  She approached him with her hand extended. The pinkness of the flesh was fading and a light dusting of peach fuzz had sprung up since she’d taken her first shower earlier.

  Elijah looked at her arm and whistled. “I thought for sure you’d lose it.”

  “It was bad, huh?”

  He shot her a wry glance. “Yeah. It was nearly blown off by a shotgun.”

  Lindsay remembered the searing agony and hugged her arm, massaging the phantom pain. “How did he do it?”

  “Wish I knew.”

  Since he seemed so fascinated by it, she offered, “You can touch it.”

  “No way.”

  One brow rose. “I don’t bite.”

  “I’m not pissing Adrian off. Curiosity killed the wolf, too.”

  “Seriously. You’re totally overestimating any possessive tendencies on his part. Besides, how would he know?”

  “He’d smell me on you.”

  The other brow rose to match the first.

  “Seriously,” he parroted drily. “Hate to embarrass you, but I smell him all over you.”

  Her stomach knotted. “Did you also smell me on him?”

  “Yep.”

  “Shit.” She shook out her hair with agitated hands. “If I wanted to pack up and run, would I have to ditch you? Or would you let me go peaceably?”

  “Try to ditch me.” He growled softly. “See how far you get.”

  “Do you have orders to detain me?”

  “No. But I won’t let you out of my sight.”

  Because she trusted him, she let him see her turmoil. “I’m playing with fire and I’m going to get burned. I could live with that, but Adrian—he doesn’t need this kind of heat. He’s still recovering from Phineas’s death.”

  “He’s a big boy. He can take care of himself.” Elijah’s features softened. “Worry about taking care of you.”

  Her gaze moved to the table. She remembered vividly what it felt like to have Adrian inside her. The edge to his voice had been as intimate as the physical act, and the foreign words he spoke resonated inside her, striking her in a way that was distantly familiar. She didn’t know their meaning, but she knew they were words spoken from one lover to another. They were as potent as tangible caresses, drifting softly over her skin like a warm breeze. If she was the only one to face consequences, she would take him. Keep him. Make him hers. But it wasn’t that way. He would suffer . . .

  She exhaled in a rush. “My self-preservation warning light appears to be on the fritz.”

  “So I noticed the other day.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  “I could eat.”

  “Let’s go pig out, then ride a roller coaster until we vomit.” An adrenaline high or two was the only thing that might save her from bolting. She was strung too tight. If she didn’t loosen up, she was going to snap.

  Elijah sighed. “You saved my ass for this?”

  “It’s either that or run away. Your choice.”

  “Fine.” He swept his arm toward the double-door entrance to the suite. “But I’ll warn you now—you really don’t want to puke on me.”

  She started walking, eager to escape the place that had too many dangerous memories. “Why not?”

  “I’ll puke back,” he said, pulling the door open. “I guarantee I eat more than you.”

  “Eww.” Lindsay was about to step out to the hallway when a dapper African American man filled the threshold.

  She stumbled to a halt, arrested by his megawatt smile. He was instantly recognizable. He was also her boss. “Hello, Mr. Gadara.”

  “Good afternoon, Ms. Gibson. You are just the person I wanted to see.”

  Adrian entered the Hard Rock Café and asked for Helena Bardon. The hostess offered him a bright smile and tried to engage him with small talk, but he offered only monosyllabic answers, his thoughts firmly on Lindsay. The pretty brunette continued to flirt with him as she led him to Helena’s booth, but her warmth quickly faded when she spotted the blonde sliding from the bench seat to greet him. He knew what the hostess saw—a stunning, statuesque, radiantly beautiful woman with waist-length blond hair and seraph blue eyes.

  “Adrian.” Helena pulled him into a warm embrace. “When I heard about Phineas, I was so worried about you.”

  “I’m managing.”

  Her delicate nostrils flared as she studied him. “Your Shadoe has returned to console you.”

  He gestured for her to sit.

  “You know I don’t judge you,” she said softly, returning to her seat.

  “I know.” After all this time, Helena remained pure of heart and soul. Her piety was so unassailable; she seemed untouched by the world they lived in. He envied her that serenity.

  “Does she truly bring you solace?”

  “Solace and torment, pleasure and pain. All of it in the extreme. It is sublime and it is hell, and I need it to exist. I need her.” There were few Sentinels he could speak so freely to. Helena’s unwavering faith gave her an impartiality few could lay claim to.

  A waiter intruded and they ordered. They would push the food around for appearance’s sake, then box it up for their lycans. When they were alone again, Helena leaned back in her seat and suddenly looked very weary.

  “How can I help you?” he asked. He didn’t show how her unrest affected him, but it did. Deeply. She’d always been one of the immutable things in his existence. But then, so had Phineas.

  “By commiserating.” Her delicate hand rested on the table. “Have I told you that one of my lycans, Mark, claims to be in love with me?”

  Adrian stilled. “No.”

  “Yes. Well, that’s what he believes.”

  Recovering, he said, “I’m not overly surprised by the possibility. You’re a beautiful woman with a gentle soul.”

  “You know where the praise for such things should be directed, but thank you.” Her fingertips drummed lightly into the tabletop, a revealing action she seemed to be unaware of. “I made every attempt to be respectful of his feelings, however inconvenient they are. He’s done his job very well because of them. Mark has risked himself in ways and situations no other lycan would have.”

  “Has he become a problem for you?”

  “No.” She sighed. “I have.”

  Reaching out, he caught her hand, stilling its fidgeting. “I’m listening.”

  “I knew he had . . . needs. I understand the lycan breed. It’s just . . . I refused to see how he handled those needs and he made every attempt to hide his activities.” Her fingers tightened on his. “But the other day, when I heard about Phineas, I called Mark in after I’d already given him the afternoon off. When he returned, I smelled—I smelled a woman on him.”

  “Helena.” His chest tightened with sympathy.

  “I was furious, Adrian. As I have never been before. I raged at him. Said cruel and deliberately hurtful things. Accused him of being weak and flawed. And more . . . so much more. I couldn’t stop. Ugliness poured from me and I couldn’t stop it. I made him hate himself. He was already suffering guilt and shame on his own, and I added the burden of my pain to his.”

  “You were jealous.” And now she knew what few Sentinels did—that they were as possessive as the lycans and vampires could be. The trait, it seemed, was inherent in the seraphim and was passed on to the Fallen. “It could’ve been worse. It would have been, had you been sleeping with him.”

  “And that’s the dilemma I come to you with.” Her chin lifted. “You, of anyone, know how I feel. All this time, I believed the urges of the
flesh were beyond us. That lust was one battle we didn’t have to fight.”

  “We’re meant to be tested—you know that.”

  “Yes, but as I attempted to explain the situation to Mark, to apologize for the hurt I’d caused him and to prepare him for a transfer away from me, he caught something I had missed. We are forbidden to mate with mortals, Adrian. Lycans, vampires—even demons—are not mortals.”

  He released her hand and sat back, removing himself from the role of friend and returning to that of her commanding officer. “You’re hoping for a loophole.”

  “Don’t judge me!” she snapped, too upset to maintain courtesy. “How can you even presume to, after coming here with the scent of a mortal woman all over you?”

  “What did you expect me to say? Ask yourself—honestly—did you come to me for commiseration? Because you know you have it. My heart breaks for you. But if you came for absolution, I can’t give it to you.”

  “Why not?”

  “If I gave you license to make the mistakes I’ve made I’d be no better than Syre. I won’t lead you to damnation, Helena. It’s my responsibility to do everything in my power to prevent your fall.”

  “Do as you say,” she said bitterly. “Not as you do.”

  Her fulminating glare cut into him. In just a few short moments, he’d become her enemy. As deeply as her anger hurt him, he could do nothing differently. “The answer to your question doesn’t lie with me. You know that.”

  Helena’s lush lower lip trembled. “I ask, and hear nothing.”

  “The conclusion I drew from that,” he said gently, “was that the silence was answer enough.”

  She sucked in a deep, shaky breath. “I thought you would help me.”

  “I’ll try. But not in the way you want.”

  A tear formed, then fell down her flawless cheek. Her pain radiated from her and echoed through him. She slid out of the booth. “I need a moment to collect myself.”