Chapter 36: Chapter Thirty-Five

In order to prevent crime downtown, law enforcement has doubled its cops on duty during the late evening hours. –The Seattle Tribune

Maya

Jac had taken one look at my pale face and motioned for me to follow her to the door.

“Nikolai said you could take me…” My voice wouldn't stop shaking. Damn it! What was wrong with me?

“Sure thing, honey.” Jac said in a sweet voice, like a switch had been flipped from earlier. I immediately felt comfortable once we were in her black Buick Encore.

I shivered even though I wasn't cold.

Once we'd been on the road for a few minutes Jac started to hum—it was… eerie, the fact that she wasn't talking.

I opened my mouth to say something when she reached over and gripped my arm, her fingernails digging into my skin. “So now you know.”

“Know?” I repeated. “What do you mean?” I tried to pry my arm free but she was freakishly strong for being in her late sixties.

“What he does, sweetheart.” Her words were nice; her voice, however, sounded… bitter, angry, and hurt. “He works with the girls who spread their legs, it is why his research is so good.

“Have you never wondered? He is the only doctor in existence that can study diseases the way he does, who can use his own brands of medicine not approved by the FDA.

Finally she released my arm.

I rubbed it and slid further away from her so the door and seatbelt were poking into my lower back. “I would never betray him.”

“Good.” Jac nodded. “Sometimes though, a promise is not enough. Who's to say you wouldn't rat him out if your father threatened your life?”

“My father…” I kept my voice indifferent. ”…couldn't care less about me. Trust me, I'm the last person in the world he cares about.”

“Smoke and mirrors.” Jac cackled.

Holy crap, she was crazy! Did Nikolai know?

I looked down at my arm and frowned, there was a bloodied handprint where Jac had been gripping my arm.

And two more handprints on the steering wheel of the car.

We pulled up to the building.

I calmly opened the door, offered my thanks, and moved as fast as my legs would take me to the elevator pushing the button harder than necessary.

“Come on, come on.” I stomped my foot a few times, then nearly had a heart attack when the doors actually opened and a person shuffled past me.

I was being ridiculous. I wasn't some lost virgin in a horror movie, running up the stairs instead of down, or hiding in the basement. It was Jac, she'd been working with Nikolai for years.

Just as I was straightening my shoulders and getting ready to walk in the elevator, a hand grabbed my shoulder from behind.

I turned around and screamed.

Jac took a step back, a smirk across her lips as she dangled my purse in front of me. “I figured you'd want your things.”

“Sorry.” I placed my hand against my chest while my other grabbed the purse. “Jumpy tonight.”

“I'll say.” Her frozen smile didn’t crack. With a tilt of her head, she gave me a nod then walked back to the running car.

Her hands were clean of blood.

And when I looked back down at my arm, it only had a faint remnant of red.

Had I imagined it all?

Or was she really bat shit crazy?

My nerves were shot by the time I made it onto my floor and into my apartment. I locked my door then double-checked that the locks were in place.

A knock on the door sounded ten minutes into my drinking and shaking.

“Who is it?” I asked, in what I hoped would sound like a calm voice.

“Nikolai.”

Safe.

My mind whispered that word to me over and over again, until finally, I took the two steps to the door, unlocked it, and let him in.

He looked like absolute hell.

From the dark circles under his eyes to the white shirt pulled out of his slacks.

Nikolai took one look at the wine bottle, swiped it off the counter, then started repeating what I'd done—drinking straight from the mouth.

“How is she?” I asked, joining him on the white leather couch, tucking my feet underneath me while he handed me back the bottle. I took a swig and waited.

He checked his watch—that was odd—then met my gaze with one of complete chilling indifference. “In exactly forty-two minutes, she'll be dead.”

I gasped as he pried the bottle from my hand and took at least three long swallows.

“You… killed her?”

Nikolai laughed, actually laughed like I was making a joke. “What do you think?”

I gulped and shook my head. “I really don't know what to think anymore.”

“Did I pull the trigger? Stop the weak heart?” He cursed under his breath and ran his hands through his hair. It was getting long, I noticed absently, curling at the nape of his neck.

He had a beautiful side profile, something that I imagined artists would kill to paint or sculpt. I reached out and touched his face.

His eyes closed as if my touch soothed him, and then he placed his hand over mine keeping it against the roughness of his five o'clock shadow. “You can touch me? You can bear to look at me?

“You helped them,” I said in a weak voice. “Or are helping them…”

“Help—” He bit out the word. ”—is such a weak, troublesome word, with such myriad meanings that I simply don't understand it anymore. Maybe I never did.”

“Drunk already?” I joked.

He smiled against my hand. Then, as it dropped from his face, he clenched my fingers in his. “You're important to me, I hope you know that.”

“Yeah,” I croaked. “I think I do.”

He caressed my arm and then frowned as he leaned down and examined the marks Jac's nails had made in my skin, along with the blood I still hadn't washed off.

“What is this?” His cold voice left me filled with dread.

I tried to jerk away. “Nothing.”

“Maya,” he growled. “Who the hell dared to lay a hand on you?” His voice was furious as his eyes flashed with rage. “Tell me. Now.”

“Jac,” I said in a wobbly voice.

Nikolai interrupted me with a kiss, his mouth pressed so hard against mine that I fell back against the couch cushions, his warm body was both searing to the touch yet comforting in an odd way.

When we broke apart for air, he cupped my chin forcing me to look him directly in the eyes. “I'll take care of Jac. Just do me a favor… don't allow yourself to be alone with her.

“You know her family?”

Nikolai hesitated than stated in such a quiet whisper I almost didn't hear him. “I am her family.”

He looked away then moved to sit back so our bodies weren't touching anymore. “I'm her grandson.”

A nervous laugh welled in my throat, but I suppressed it. “Didn't see that plot twist.” I usually made light of a very scary situation with joking. I really needed to stop doing that.

He frowned, staring off into the distance. “She doesn't give a damn about me.” His laugh was hollow. “She cares about… tradition.”

“I'm not following.”

“Every man and woman in our family has had the same occupation for as long as I can remember… my father broke tradition forcing my grandmother to take up the family…” He sighed deeply. ”…business.

I followed in my father's footsteps, not hers. She's been pressuring me to do otherwise.”

I handed him the wine bottle. “You probably need more of this.”

“Probably.” He pushed it away. “But I'd rather drink from you.”

“You want me to pour wine in my mouth so you can drink from me?” I teased.

He laughed, an actual laugh that echoed off the walls and ceiling only to wrap itself so tightly around me that I knew, I'd never be free of it, free of the feeling I had whenever he was near.

His laughter faded as his eyes darkened and met mine. “I want to drink you.” He leaned forward, and his tongue slid against my neck. “Taste you…” His lips brushed a kiss across my jaw.

“And not have any of the taste dulled by wine or anything so common as food or drink. I want your uniqueness to drown my senses and I want it right now.”

Thrills rushed through me. “Demanding.” It was the only answer I could give as he started pulling my white shirt over my head. Once my arms were free, he shrugged and then kept stripping me.

I didn’t protest, because I didn’t want to. I just wanted him.

And the more I had of him, it was like the more I needed.

I popped my knuckles as a memory of white flashed before my eyes only to be replaced with dark brown eyes. “Let me taste you.”

“Now you ask?” I groaned. “When you've been doing nothing but telling for the past few hours?”

“Pain I give… pleasure I seek,” he answered. “Will you let me touch you, Maya? Will you allow it? Please say yes, I don't think I could survive with no.”

“Yes.” I moved for him just as he reached for me. “Yes.” Our mouths met. Yes, yes, yes.

“Let me pleasure you,” Nikolai whispered. “Let me see you, all of you, in the light, against the white.”

I did as he asked, stripping free of the rest of my clothes.

Nikolai slid from the couch, moving to his knees, then grabbed my thighs, pried them apart and whispered, “And now, I worship at your feet.”

“Blasphemy.”

“Not at all.” His eyes locked reverently on mine. “Blasphemy is replacing God… I’m simply honoring His most perfect creation in the only way I know how.”

“With pleasure?”

“Always… pleasure I seek.”

I froze.

So, did he.

His mouth opened and then closed.

But instead of questioning him, or allowing myself to put two and two together, I closed my eyes and said, “What are you waiting for?”

“Oh Maya, it seems like I’ve been waiting years and years.”

The last cognitive thought I had before his mouth was on me was the familiarity of his smooth movements.

And how being with him, felt like coming home.

As if I’d run away and gotten lost.

He’d given me a map.

And I’d found my way back.