Black and Blue (16 page)

In a less-than-perfect world, Blue would find something to point him to their locations.

In a crappy shithole of a world, he would find nothing.

He was in a crappy shithole.

He’d been so hopeful. Frustration poked at his power, and that power expanded inside him until his skin felt taut, ready to rip apart at the seams.

Keep it together.
One last room to bug. The most important.

Blue searched until he found Star’s office. The doors were closed and locked, and he would bet Star was
inside, working. He could sneak inside and try to use voice compulsion, forcing Star to lead him out to safety and then to tell him everything he wanted to know. But there were two flaws in that plan. One, guards would come gunning for him and he couldn’t hold them all off at once without emptying himself. And if he emptied himself, he couldn’t carry Star away—or save John and Solo, if they were nearby. Two, half the population was immune to the compulsion. Star could be one of the immune.

“You’ve got two males coming in hot,” Evie announced.

Great.

“Marco,” a deep voice said.

Blue placed the last bug on the office door. No way could he get in without blowing his cover. He turned. As promised, two males were barreling toward him, both frowning.

“Marco. What are you doing down here?”

“I think you’re Marco,” Evie prompted.

Yeah. Probably. But Blue couldn’t say a single word to the guys—he wouldn’t have Marco’s voice. That meant he had to go with plan B.

He released a small ring of power. Not enough to render Blue completely useless afterward, but enough to weaken him as he disabled the guards. The two grunted and jerked before slumping to the floor.

He considered the consequences worth the reward.

“Nice,” Evie said, “but you better get out of there before they’re found and an alarm is tripped.”

Blue kicked into high gear—which wasn’t as high as it had been before—propelling outside. He raced
across the lawn . . . no alarm . . . he climbed the iron gate . . . no alarm . . .

He jumped into his waiting car and sped down the street, constantly glancing at the rearview mirror to see if he was being followed.

“How long before you’re back at the boathouse?” Evie asked.

He thought he heard the words she didn’t say:
How long before you’re safe?

“Missing me already, princess? How sweet.”

“Blue! I’m being serious.”

How adorable was the pout in her voice?

Dude. You’ve got it bad.

And it was only getting worse.

“I’ll be there first thing in the morning,” he said, more sharply than he’d intended.

“Morning? Tell me you’re kidding.” The pout was replaced by a growl. “I have no intention of taking the evening off. I need to pay a visit to AIR headquarters to discuss the car chase and pump Agent Gutierrez for information.”

The words
pump Agent Gutierrez
hit him the wrong way, and he gripped the steering wheel with so much force he cracked the metal. “Does Michael have another boat?”

“Yeah, but if I take it, I’ll leave him stranded.”

“I seriously doubt that. He’s a plan B, C, and D man. Take the boat.”

She sighed. “You’re right.”

“Aren’t I always?”

“Ha, ha.”

“So listen. Tonight I have to rise from the dead. I’ll sneak over to your house as soon as it’s done.”

A sharp intake of breath. “So . . . you’re ending things with Pagan?”

“Yes. It’ll be done by midnight.”

Utter silence.

Man, he wished he could read Evie better, but when she wanted to be, she was a master at disguising her reactions. And without her nearby, he couldn’t sense her emotions.

Funny, but the empathic ability he’d once despised was now one of his most beloved and well used.

“Just so you know,” he added, “I’m not going to sleep with her.” He didn’t owe Evie the assurance; they weren’t dating and had made no promises to each other—and, damn it all, they couldn’t be together.

None of that stopped him, however.

“I didn’t ask, did I?” There was no emotion in her tone. “Besides, sleeping with her before and/or after you’ve broken her heart would be a total douche move.”

His jaw clenched. “Look, until you, I always told her before I was going to do something with someone else. Not why, just that it was going to happen. She never minded, and that’s part of the reason I stayed with her. If it weren’t for the job, I would have been faithful. I
want
to be faithful.”

Again silence.

He wanted her to see him, the real him, he realized. And he wanted her to tell him she thought better of him. Even though he sometimes didn’t think better of himself.

“Do you know what it’s like to seduce someone you’re not attracted to?” he gritted. “Or worse, someone you despise? Do you know what it’s like to hear their cries of pleasure and wish you were hearing cries of pain? Do you know how dirty something like that can make a person feel?
Do you?
”

“No,” she whispered.

“Do you know what it’s like to have sex with someone you know you’re going to have to kill? Or to know just how badly your actions are going to hurt someone you care about?”

“Blue—”

“Would you mind if I
did
sleep with her?” he snapped. He didn’t want her to see him now. Some part of him just wanted blood.

Another sharp intake of breath. Then, very softly, she said, “Yes. I would mind. Just . . . try to end it by eleven, yeah. I’ll be waiting for you.”

Waiting for you.

What did that mean?

He knew what he wanted it to mean. Because as much as he wanted blood, he still wanted
her
. If she’d let him, he’d take her and deal with the consequences.

“I’ll hurry,” he said.

The piece in his ear shut off, spilling static.

*  *  *

Blue called Pagan from the road and told her he would come by her place around ten for a chat-up, as Evie would say, then hung up when she rapid-fired questions at him.

Non-man-whore move: he wasn’t going to destroy her dreams and aspirations over the phone.

Besides, there was nothing he could tell her that would make her feel better about what was about to happen.

He stopped at Evie’s safe house to grab the laptop and Lucky Horn flash drive, then went home to get his favorite SUV and let his neighbors know he was back in business.

Finally the moment of truth arrived.

He checked the perimeter of Pagan’s house for any surveillance equipment—found none—and made his way to the door. She answered before he had a chance to knock, and a hard fist of guilt pummeled him. She wore a slinky red dress that hugged her voluminous curves, and her blond hair framed her perfectly made-up face. She’d gotten dolled up for him.

She was beautiful and stacked and everything he’d once thought he wanted—but nothing he truly did. Seemed he had a taste for a certain slender, dark-haired, doe-eyed girl and only she would do.

I’m sorry, Michael.

I’ll be waiting for you,
Evie had said.

Be naked,
he should have told her.

Pagan motioned him inside, and as he passed her she said, “Where have you been? Why didn’t you call? Who were you with? I have a right to know!”

He turned to face her, hating himself more than ever.
Just get it over with
. Tone gentle, he said, “I’m sorry, Pagan, but this isn’t working for me.”

Shock registered a moment before a nervous laugh
slipped from her. “I know I’m acting like a witch right now. I’ve been worried about you, that’s all. But you’re here now, so I can relax. Let’s have a drink and we can discuss something else.”

Witch? Evie would have shot him in the face and called him a whore. And as much as he always despised when she used the word, he kind of preferred that kind of response to this. Acceptance.

Pagan took one of his hands and urged him forward. He planted his heels and clasped her other hand, holding her in place.

“You’re asking questions you have every right to ask,” he said, “and if I was a good man, I’d answer them. But I’m not, and I’m sorry about that, too. You deserved better than I gave you and you deserve better than you’re getting.”

Paling, she released him to twist the silk of her dress. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying . . . we’re over. I’m sorry,” he repeated.

“You’re serious,” she gasped out.

“I am.”

“But . . . but . . . is there someone else?”

He gave her the hard truth. “Yes.” He owed her that much at least.

She threw herself at him and gripped his shirt, clinging. “Who is she?”

“Does it matter?”

“Tell me. Tell me right now. Is there more than one?”

“Pagan. Don’t do this to yourself.”

A moment passed, then two, and all she did was breathe heavily. “You’re right. I don’t care who she is.”
Her hand trembled as she hooked a lock of hair behind her ear, her gaze never leaving him. “Get her, or them, out of your system. I don’t mind. Then come back to me.”

He pried her fingers from his T-shirt and kissed her knuckles. As tenderly as he was able, he said, “No, Pagan. This is good-bye between us.”

“But . . . but . . .” Tears welled in her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. “Blue. Don’t do this. Please.”

Maybe he should have done to her what he’d done to Noelle Tremain, and given
her
a reason to break things off with
him
. That way he could leave her with her heart intact.

No, he thought next. The guilt of what he’d done to Noelle still haunted him. This was the better way. The honest way.

The right way.

Sometimes the truth could tear a person apart piece by piece, but at least the pieces could be welded back together, stronger than before. With lies, the pieces went up in flames before they ever hit the ground, and there was nothing left to patch.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not going to change my mind about this. And, Pagan? You should be happy that I won’t. You’re far better off without me. You want a family. I don’t.”

“But I don’t have to have a family,” she rushed out. “Besides, I don’t even want one. Not without you.”

“Don’t say that. Don’t change your heart’s desires for me or any man.”

She pressed on. “Take some time to think about this. It’s late, and you’ve been gone, so you’re probably
tired right now. Yes. You’re tired, that’s all. Get some sleep and we’ll talk again.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m not going to change my mind.”

“Yes. You will. You must.”

He tried again. “You’re a beautiful, passionate woman, and someday a man will come along and put you first. But that man isn’t me.”

“I don’t have to be first. I just want to be with you. Please, Blue. I love you. Love you so much.”

He’d never considered the fact that she might actually love him. He wouldn’t have stayed with her this long if he had. “You’ll get over me,” he said softly. “One day you might even thank me for this.” Then he stalked out of the house, feeling like a total tool because the breakup was over—and all he wanted to do was go to Evie.

B
LUE BROKE SPEED RECORDS
to get to Evie’s house, hid his car, and swiftly snuck his way to her back porch, out of sight of her neighbors. Then he pounded on the door with enough force to bend the entire structure.

For the first time in their acquaintance, he was single.

A minute passed. Two. She didn’t answer.

He knocked harder, leaving an indentation. If she wasn’t here . . .

If she’d changed her mind . . .

He could have disarmed her system—again—but he didn’t want to give up his advantage or add to the bill he still hadn’t paid. She hadn’t yet realized that no matter what improvements she made, she would never be able to keep him out. His power could fry the wires in mere seconds.

Finally, she opened the door. His heart kicked into an uncontrollable rhythm. Unlike Pagan, she hadn’t dressed to please him. She wore a tank top and shorts, and she wore them well, her slender body on perfect display. Her hair was loose. Fistable. Her eyes were unreadable,
but that was okay, because he could feel the emotion pulsing from her.

White-hot, consuming desire.

His own, always there, roared to the surface.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier,” she muttered. “For what I’ve said throughout the years. For what I’ve called you. I was wrong and I was cruel. I was a judgmental bitch, just like you called me. And I know these words aren’t good enough. I know I owe you so much more, and I’ll understand if you can’t forgive me.”

Something clenched in his chest. She saw him. In that moment he realized he’d never stopped hoping for this. “Princess, I’ve done bad things. I get why you said what you said. Yes, I can forgive you.”

Relief bathed her expression. “Thank you.”

He nodded.

She nibbled on her bottom lip. “You did it, then,” she said. “You ended things with Pagan.” It wasn’t a question.

He answered anyway. “Yes.”