My heart sinks when I realize no one is here yet. I need an emergency medical team now. I’ll have to attempt to stop the bleeding and try my best to keep her alive until they arrive.
Motion-activated lights turn on as I pull the SUV into the warehouse. It doesn’t seem as though the building is temperature controlled. The hot air is sticky with humidity and smells of dusty cardboard and rubber. I hop out of the car and close the rolling door behind us. I carry Alex to a steel worktable in the back of the warehouse, tossing aside a desktop computer and stacks of unassembled cardboard boxes to make room for her to lie down.
I press my fingers to her neck and can’t find a pulse. I check the other side of her neck and find it, but it’s faint. She’s fading.
I pull my shirt off and lift her body so I can tie it around her waist, over her wound. Grabbing a steel rod from the floor, I thread it beneath the tied sleeves. Then I twist the rod to tighten the shirt around her. I lay her body down on top of the rod so her weight will hold it in place, then I begin CPR to get more oxygen into her lungs and keep her heart from stopping.
“Please, chérie. Please stay with me.” I brush her hair away from her temple with my lips and plant a soft kiss on her damp skin. “Please don’t leave me, Alex.”
I’ve never been more frightened in my life. When the steel door rolls open, I nearly jump out of my skin as I point my gun at the truck bay. I don’t recognize the elderly gentleman with the bald hair and thick glasses, but I almost fall to my knees with gratitude when I see the medical bag in his hand. Tucking my gun away, I race to him to see if he needs help.
“There’s an I.V. stand and more supplies in the trunk,” he says in Spanish, nodding his head toward the black BMW parked behind him just outside the door.
He hands me the car keys and I retrieve the I.V. stand and the rest of his supplies from the trunk of the car. I meet him inside and find him cutting away the crude tourniquet I made with my shirt and the steel rod. He tosses it to the floor and performs a brief examination of the stab wound.
Once we have a sterile sheet laid beneath Alex’s body, and he’s cleaned her up, he hooks her up to a machine that pumps her body with O-negative blood, pain medication, and I.V. fluids. Then he stitches her up.
“When will I know if she’s okay?” I ask, not bothering to hide the desperation in my tone.
He points to the bag of clear I.V. fluids hanging from the stand. “When this is gone in four hours, she’ll wake up. She will think she’s ready to run a marathon, but you must keep her off her feet for at least twenty-four hours. I’ll be back to check on her tomorrow night. Then she should take it easy for a couple of weeks.”
He grabs his bag to leave and I grab his wrist to stop him. “Wait… She’s pregnant. Can you check on the baby?”
His eyes widen in horror, and I know what that look means. There’s no way the baby could survive this.
Chapter Six
Alex
My eyelids struggle to open. The lashes are sealed together. Blinking furiously, I groan against the stinging pull on the rims of my eyes. Then a new pain comes to me from my left side. Now I remember. I was stabbed. Again.
My eyelids finally come apart and the first thing I see is Daimon’s face hovering over me. His face is framed by the dim glow of yellow light above us. His blue eyes are rimmed pink and full of relief.
“What… Where… Where am I?” My voice is husky. My throat raw and parched, probably from the loss of blood.
“We’re still in Tenerife. How are you feeling?”
“What time is it? I… I have to go. I have to go to Monaco.”
I attempt to sit up and a blinding pain lights up my left side. Daimon grabs my shoulders and gently pushes me down, but not before I notice the intravenous lines snaking out of my arm.
“You’re not going anywhere right now. You have to rest,” he murmurs, brushing my hair away from my eyes. “Vengeance can wait.”
The word vengeance hits me like a kick in the chest. “You were right,” I whisper, looking into his eyes. “About Nick. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. I was—”
“Shh. You don’t have to apologize.”
He strokes my hair and leans down to kiss my forehead. His new beard brushes against my brow and his lips are cool against my hot skin. So soft and familiar, yet still so new.
“These days apart have felt like years,” I whisper, my throat thickened with emotion. “I didn’t want to kill you.”
“I know, chérie. If you wanted to kill me, I’d be dead.”
I chuckle and the smile on his face makes my heart feel full. “What happened to me? How bad is it?”
He closes his eyes and hangs his head for a moment. He doesn’t have to say a word for me to know it’s serious. Every second I wait for him to break his silence feels like an eternity.
“Daimon, please. Just tell me.”
His eyes find mind, but his gaze is burning through me. My heart pounds an agonizing beat inside my chest. Then, finally, he speaks.
“The baby is gone.”
My throat constricts until I can’t speak or breathe. No, I try to say, but nothing comes out. Nothing but tears.
“Breathe, Alex,” he urges me.
I shake my head wildly as Daimon’s face begins to flicker and my vision begins to close into a tiny speck.
What did I do to deserve this? I was born a mutant and I’ve spent eighteen years paying for a sin I didn’t commit. And now this? My father dead. The hope of a child gone.
What do I have left?
The arguing gets louder as I open my eyes, but I can’t understand any of it. All I see is a single incandescent lightbulb hanging overhead, illuminating steel beams that crisscross an industrial ceiling. I’m in a warehouse.
I try to sit up and the sharp pain in my side reminds me of my injury. I take a deep breath as I lie back, trying to hear my thoughts over the sound of the arguing. Then I remember.
Daimon said the baby is gone.
My eyes sting and I grit my teeth against the pain, but I can’t hold back the tears. “Why?” I mutter through my grief.
The arguing stops. The silence is followed by hurried shuffling, and Daimon is at my side again. The curves of his beautiful face, hardened by the argument, begin to soften as he gazes into my eyes.
“You’re awake.”
“Why did this happen to me?”
Daimon’s face screws up as he shakes his head, unable to provide an answer.
“I… I just wanted someone to love… to love me.” I squeeze my eyes shut to block out his face. To hide from the shame.
He grabs my face to force me to look at him. His lips tremble slightly as he presses his mouth into a hard line, trying in vain to suppress his emotions.
“I love you, Alex. I’ll always love you.” He kisses the corner of my mouth and more tears roll out of my eyes and onto his fingertips. “In the light and in the dark. With a mask or without. I love everything about you.”
I reach up slowly and coil my arms around his neck to pull him closer. He buries his face in my neck and allows me to weep as he caresses my hair.
“It’s okay, chérie. You’re with me now. Everything is going to be okay.”
I squeeze him tighter, savoring the sensation of his solid chest against mine. Breathing in the slightly briny fragrance of the ocean mixed with the woodsy scent of his skin. I nuzzle my cheek against his neck and draw in a deep breath.
“I missed you,” I whisper against his skin. “I knew you were alive. I knew you’d come back.”
He chuckles and the sound sends a sweet chill through me. “I can’t even be angry with you for trying to kill me. I am hopeless.”
I loosen my hold on him and grab the sides of his face to look him in the eye. “Not hopeless. This isn’t over. We’re not finished. We have to kill her.”
His eyes narrow as a slow smile forms on his gorgeous face. “What I have planned is much more satisfying than a simple assassination.” He kis
ses the tip of my nose as a bald man in a white coat begins hanging another bag of fluids on an I.V. stand next to me. “Rest, chérie. You’ll need your strength.”
The bald man presses a button on a machine and Daimon and I both watch as the fluid travels through the line and into my arm. He begins to draw away, but I lock my arms around his neck and pull him in for a real kiss. He tastes a bit sweet and metallic, but the cool sensation of his tongue in my mouth is better than any pain medication. Almost as soon as a painful longing sweeps through me, the medication kicks in and my grip on his neck slackens.
He pulls away and kisses my forehead. “Sleep, chérie. I’ll be standing right here when you wake up.”
The next time I wake, I’m surrounded by darkness. I’m not on the hard steel table anymore. I’ve been moved.
“Daimon!” I whisper frantically.
I hear movement in the dark and suddenly the room is flooded with light. I blink against the bright glow of the lamplight, blue spots obscuring my vision. Then Daimon appears at my side.
“How are you feeling?” he murmurs as he kneels next to me.
I’m lying on a sofa in an office. I blink a few more times to clear the spots, then I reach for his hand and see the bandage on the inside of the crook of my arm. The I.V. line is gone and I’m dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt.
“Where are we?”
“We’re still in Tenerife, in the warehouse. We moved you so you’d be more comfortable. How are you feeling?”
I move my hand to my side to touch my injury and grunt at the searing pain that results from this brief touch. “I’m fine. I need to get out of here.”
I grit my teeth as Daimon helps me sit up. Then he sits next to me and wraps his arm around my shoulder. “Do you feel well enough to travel?”
“We’re going to Monaco?”
“Not yet. You’re not ready physically, or mentally.”
“What does that mean?” I turn my head to face him and just this small movement causes a sharp pain to explode in my side. “What do you mean, I’m not ready mentally?”
“Alex, you’re not able to see beyond your pain right now.”
“I’m fine!”
“No, you’re not,” he growls. “Let me make this very clear, you are not going to Monaco until you’re ready. And you are far from ready, Alex.”
I glare at him, but he stares right back at me, never blinking. “I will leave when I’m ready to leave.”
He lowers his gaze for a moment, taking a beat before he peers into my eyes again. I can already sense that I’m not going to like what he’s about to say.
“Alex, we need to talk about what happened. You can’t set off on the path of vengeance without any contemplation.”
“You said you have a plan! Whatever you have planned is fine with me. I just want to get out of here.”
He shakes his head. “No, that is not how you operate. And it is certainly not how I operate. Neither of us will be jumping into this mission with hot heads.” He grabs my chin and forces me to look him in the eye. “We need to talk about what happened, between you and me. And we need to talk about your father…and the baby. We have to talk about this or it will destroy us both.”
I push his hand off my chin and hang my head to hide the tears. “There’s nothing to talk about. You were hired to kill me. I tried to kill you. My father and…and the baby got caught in the crossfire. Collateral damage. End of story.”
“This story is far from over. Listen to me.” He lowers himself from the sofa, grabbing my hand as he kneels before me. “We are going to live the rest of our lives with the repercussions of our decisions. We have to lay it all out and promise we will forgive each other, or this will never work. We will never work. Look at me, Alex.” I look up from my lap and his eyes are pleading with me. “Alex, I am on my knees asking for your forgiveness. I know there will be times when you will look at me and you’ll think of your father. There will probably be times when you’ll want to poison me or step on my throat, but I need you to promise me that you won’t.”
I smile reluctantly through the tears. “I promise I won’t try to kill you…even when you infuriate me by making fun of how I tried to kill you.”
“It’s not funny.”
He smiles as he says this and I shove his shoulder. “It’s not funny. And it’s especially not funny because I know you’re right. I will try to kill you. It’s what I was trained to do. It’s my natural instinct.” My gaze falls to his hand in my lap. I take it in mine and squeeze. “I need you to save me, and you, from myself.”
He brings my hand to his lips and lays a soft kiss on the back of my fingers. “It would be my honor to save you and me from you.”
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I wasn’t ready for a baby,” I whisper the shameful words that have been haunting me since this conversation began. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.”
“But…if I wasn’t ready…why does it hurt so much?”
He squeezes my hand, though he’s silent for a moment. “The baby was a part of us. It always hurts when you lose a part of yourself.”
I lift my hand and run my fingers through his dark hair. “Promise me it won’t always hurt this much.”
“I can’t,” he replies, taking a seat next to me again. “But I can promise I’ll be there to hold you when the pain becomes unbearable.”
He takes me in his arms and I remember what my mother told me. The monsters we can’t see are the scariest ones of all. I finally understand what she meant by this. The monsters we can’t see, the ones that dwell only in our minds, are the scariest ones of all. Because there’s only one way to fight those monsters.
With the help of someone who loves you.
I squeeze Daimon, and he holds me tightly until the tears stop. It must be the hormones raging inside me after the miscarriage. I don’t think I’ve cried this much in all my life. But something about the way he holds me, as if he’d tear the Earth apart before he allowed anyone to tear us apart, it makes me feel safe. Like I can let go and…feel everything.
Finally, I draw in a cleansing breath and look up at him. “I’m ready. Tell me about your plans for the princess.”
Chapter Seven
Daimon
The private jet we charter to Nice is well-appointed and the air-conditioned air is the first reprieve we’ve had from the oppressive humidity of the warehouse. The first thing Alex wants to do after the plane has reached cruising altitude is no surprise to me because I’m in complete agreement.
I follow Alex into the jet’s bathroom, then I close the door behind me. She’s frozen for a moment, staring at the shower stall enclosed in double-thick tempered glass, to withstand falls caused by turbulence. I step toward her until my chest is brushing up against her back. Reaching forward, I take her left hand in mine and lean forward to whisper in her ear.
“If you prefer, I can wait outside.”
“No,” she replies with haste, shaking her head. “Don’t go. I need you to help me.”
She turns around to face me and raises her arms in the air, so I can remove her T-shirt. I pull the shirt off gently and toss it onto the counter. I wrap my arms around her waist and kiss her slowly as I undo the clasp on her bra. Her mouth opens wider, inviting me to quell her thirst for more.
I slip the straps of her bra off her shoulders, then I plant a tender kiss on her neck as I let it fall to the floor. I reach for the button of her jeans, being careful not to touch her stab wound. Kneeling before her, I help her step out of her pants. Her black panties follow her jeans, and I gaze at her beautiful body for a moment before I lay a soft kiss on her abdomen. I look up at her, and her chest is heaving with anticipation.
She traces her finger over the discolored skin on the left side of her torso. “This is the first time you’ve seen my body in the light.”
“And you’re more beautiful than I could have imagined.”
I have to go easy on her so I don’t exa
sperate her injury. I grip the back of her knee then slide my hand up slowly until it’s between her legs. She closes her eyes and leans her head back as I glide my middle finger inside her. I move my finger in and out a few times, then I gently drag it forward onto her swollen clit.
She whimpers and her knees begin to buckle. I tease her with soft caresses; not firm enough for her to climax, but just enough to drive her crazy. When she begins to double over, I remove my hand from between her legs and stand up.
She cups her hand over her throbbing clit, watching me undress as she tries to catch her breath. When I’m naked, I turn on the shower and adjust the water temperature. I turn around and she’s smiling.
“Are you real?” she whispers, reaching forward to run her fingers over my abdominal muscles. “You’re exquisite.”
I smile at the compliment, then I take her hand in mine and lead her into the shower. “Turn your back to the water.”
She stands under the showerhead with the water cascading over her glistening skin, which has been bronzed by the island sun. I sweep her hair over her shoulders as she leans her head back. I kiss her neck, sucking gently and savoring the flavor of salt on her skin as my hands land on her waist.
Pulling her body flush against me, my erection slides over her slick abdomen then down and between her thighs. She gasps and twirls her hips in a greedy gesture that rubs her clit against the head of my cock.
I hold her hips steady to still her movement. “You just stand there and relax.” I issue the command in a low growl. “I’ll give you what you want.”
I grab a small bottle of body wash off the marble shelf and deposit a good amount into my palm. I massage the soap into her neck and shoulders, kneading away the tension before I move down her arms and legs. I get some soap in my hand and she nods in anticipation.
I slide my hand between her thighs and she grabs onto my shoulders to steady herself as I caress her tender flesh. My fingers glide between every crease and she whimpers each time I hit her clit. After a few seconds, the soap has washed away. I remove my hand and kneel before her.