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The familiar feeling of the teleporting free fall engulfed him just as four water witches stepped out of the woods. Thank the Soartas they were too stunned by the changing lilies and missed Dyam and Naiah not even ten feet away.

As he dematerialized them out of there, he cursed himself for being so reckless.
That
was why he had closed himself for the passions of the flesh. It was pointless and deterred him from his mission – to protect his king and the innocent. Today, because of his weak resolve, he had almost failed and disgraced his ancestors.

Chapter Twelve

“I need a shower.”

Rafe stirred, mumbled something, then turned on his side and hugged her, as if it was spooning time.

Yara took a deep breath. After the amazing, wild ride with Rafe, she had lost her battle with tiredness and had nodded off, just to be woken up a couple of hours later by a throbbing sensation on her limbs. Once the initial “what the fuck?” moment was gone, she found the source of the pain – the handcuffs were still firmly clutched at her wrists, holding her hostage. Reality kicked in as she realized that even after sharing the most intimate experience, Rafe hadn’t let her loose. But why? What was really happening here? He had admitted to have been hired to keep a tail on her, but was that the only task to his assignment? What if there was more to it that he wasn’t telling her? For example, who was calling the shots? It wasn’t Phillip for sure. Phillip was the notorious middle man, the gun holder but never the shooter. He observed from a safe distance and only jumped in when the move was certain to be profitable. Whoever had stolen the last box of white bullets in London had seen her and knew she’d never stop before finding it. Rafe believed that the bomb was meant to kill her because of Z’s potions. She wasn’t so sure. But the burning question was – was Rafe in it with her, or against her?

“Rafe!” She wiggled against him. “Shower.”

“OK, no worries, you go then,” he replied drunkenly.

Yara exhaled sharply and counted to three. A few options went through her mind, a few scenarios too, most of them ended with him being turned into a slimy frog. But, since she really wanted her freedom and a slimy frog wouldn’t be able to fetch her the keys, she went for the one least-fun, but most effective tactic – she shook the shackles with all her might. Iron cuffs clashed on metal headboard, and sweet music was created. The damned things didn’t break but the loud rattle sure did the job of waking Mr. Sleeping Beauty.

“Argh!” Rafe cried out as he sat up straight with a start. “What … What’s happening?”

“I need a shower,” she informed him.

Rafe looked at her with confused eyes then the coin dropped. “Oh … right, I’ll set it up for you.”

He jumped off the bed and disappeared into the bathroom.

I’ll set it up for you
, he’d said, not
I’ll let you lose
. Interesting choice of words.

Yara heard the tap water being opened, then a bit of shuffling, garbage bin opening and closing. A moment later, Rafe came back out again, looking a bit more awake.

“It’s not five stars but at least you’ll get a nice hot bath,” he said while reaching underneath the bed. He straightened back up and paused, with the keys in his hands. The key to her handcuffs.

Yara’s shoulders tensed in anticipation. She knew she’d have to bargain for her freedom but at what cost? What would he demand of her in order to release her? The codes to Tardieh’s security system? Money to buy his silence about her location? More sex? Hmm, hopefully more sex.

“I need you to promise me that you won’t try to run before we talk.”

Eh?

Was that it – he just wanted to have a chat? Yara frowned and nodded in agreement before he had the chance to increase the list of demands.

He walked around the bed and un-cuffed both her wrists then helped her sit up. Her entire body ached, including her intimate parts, but that particular pain wasn’t quite unwelcoming, though. She picked up his wrinkled shirt from the floor and put it on.

He wrapped his hand around her arm and pulled her against him. “You know, I definitely prefer you naked, but I kinda like you in my shirt.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m planning on raiding your wardrobe later.”

His chuckle reverberated in his chest. “I got you toothbrush, floss and a hand towel,” he said while showing her to the bathroom. He paused. “Hang on, forgot the rest.”

Yara complied – maybe because she was still waking up, or maybe because she wanted to know where this was going to go. For whatever reason, she obliged. As she waited, she admired the small but cozy setting. Rafe had been right, it wasn’t the Hilton but it was welcoming, roomy and warm. The bathroom, just like the bedroom, had been decorated with earthy tones, white walls and wooden furniture.

“OK, here’s towel and a mat, so that you don’t have to put up with cold tiles after your bath,” Rafe announced returning from wherever he’d gone. He hung the king size towel on the rack and stopped in front of the sink next to her.

In silence, he opened the cabinet, and handed her a brand new toothbrush, then he pulled one for himself. She picked up what he offered and creamed it with toothpaste.

They stood there, in silence, brushing their teeth, like an old couple who had been doing the same drill for ages. For a moment, Yara forgot about white bullets, exploding fighting rings, or Phillip. They were just a normal couple starting their daily routine. For some reason, she felt comfortable next to Rafe, in a way she’d never before, with any of her lovers. It was somewhat
easy
to be around him, maybe because she knew he was just like her. They were birds of a feather – passionate warriors, hard-core lovers, stubborn souls.

Yara washed her mouth, Rafe did the same. He walked to the edge of the bathtub and checked the water temperature. “How do you like your bath?”

Yara shrugged. “Wet.”

He gave her a knowing look. “Funny girl.”

“That’s my middle name, my friends call me Yara.”

He chuckled. “Well, you’re getting it hot.”

“I wouldn’t expect any less from you, wolf boy,” she replied with an impish smile.

Rafe flashed her one of his own, then walked back to the cabinet underneath the sink. “I think I have some bath salt in here, somewhere.”

“You don’t live here, do you?” she prompted.

“This is one of my homes,” Rafe replied, not answering her question.

“But you don’t
live
here,” she pushed on.

He looked at her. “No.”

Finally a direct answer!

He stood up and waved a small sample shampoo he’d obviously inherited from his last plane trip.

“So where are we?”

“In my pack’s territory.”

Yara frowned. “Your pack’s territory but not your home …” She leaned on the sink and waited for a comment or some sort of explanation, but it never came. Rafe seemed to be really interested in pouring the contents of the small flask in the water. Big bubbles appeared on the surface.

Fine, next question then. “Why do I keep on smelling milk?”

“My pack has a dairy farm. That’s their main source of income.”

Oh, that explains.

Rafe turned the tap off and motioned for her to get in. “Your bath, milady.”

She smiled, rolling her eyes at his horrible posh British accent. Then, she shrugged out of her shirt and climbed into the tub.

“The entire pack works in the farm?”

He nodded.

She knew she sounded like a five-year-old who couldn’t shut up – “But why? But why” But why?”
But
… if she had any hopes of learning if she could really trust Rafe, she needed to find out where he came from, where they were and what lay beyond those walls. And so far, knowing that they were in pack territory had not been good news.

She scooted over to one end to allow enough room for Rafe to jump in, but he sat on a chair, seemingly oblivious to her invitation. A strange, and unwelcomed, twinge of disappointment nudged at her heart. Well, better this way. Things between them were getting too cozy, too fast.

“What about you? Do you work here too?”

“No,” he replied, as if saying “are you nuts?” “I tried once and failed miserably.”

“What happened?”

“I learnt that working with your family is never a good idea,” he replied then dragged his chair closer, picked up a sponge and started washing Yara’s back. It felt so good.

“One day you have to choose, the business or the family. You can’t have both.”

“Ouch, that’s a bit harsh.”

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “But I’ve learned from my mistakes. Now I fight and I’m quite happy that way.”

“Oh, yeah,” she exclaimed, remembering his big shot title. “The Dungeon’s Ultimate Champion is
in da’ house
.”

His hands stopped. Yara turned around to find him glaring at her through narrow eyes. Hehehe.

“Big Bad Champion,” she repeated in a terrible impersonation of a gangsta rapper.
“In da house.”

“I’ll show you who’s in
da
house,” Rafe chuckled out then lunged at her.

He wrapped her in his arms but instead of kisses, he tickled her.

She cried out, unable to stop the high-pitched squeaks from escaping her lips. “Stop! I’m ticklish!” she squealed.

“Too bad because the big bad champion is in
da
house,” he replied and increased his tickling attacks.

Water splashed everywhere as Yara tried to defend herself. The more she screeched and laughed, the more he did it. After torturing her for a good few minutes, he locked her on a tight embrace and kissed her on the lips, swallowing Yara’s cries. Her insides melted. His hands massaged the base of her neck as his lips danced with hers. Ai, Apa Dobrý, he tasted so good.

Too soon, he pulled away and brushed the back of his fingers along her cheek. “I own a training gym.”

Yara met him in the eye. “Really?”

“In New Jersey,” he replied, sitting back on the chair. He motioned for her to turn around and settle back on the tub.

“I’ve always wanted to own a gym, but I never had the time to…Aww!” Yara’s words dissolved into a long moan when his hands started kneading the knots on her upper back and neck.

He cooked, he cleaned, he cared for her,
and
he did great massage – Ai, Rafe
was
a dream god!

No, he isn’t
, Yara’s mind retorted.
He’s keeping you hostage, he’s working with Phillip, he’s bad news
.
Just like
Pedro
was.
Yara stiffened as memories of sweet Pedro emerged from the depths of her mind. His curly dark hair, round brown eyes, tanned skin. He treated Yara with so much tenderness, so much love, right up until the moment she refused to use her magic to do his bidding. After that, he wasn’t so sweet anymore.

“Am I going too hard?” Rafe’s question brought Yara back to the present. “You kinda got all stiff on me for a sec there.”

“You have magical hands. I just have a few deep knots, that’s all,” she lied.

Rafe resumed his massage, Yara kept still. A heavy silence descended in the bathroom, as if he knew she wasn’t telling the whole truth but was deciding whether to call her on it or not. On the other hand, Yara hadn’t meant to ruin her moment with Rafe, but the ugly wound Pedro had carved in her heart was already out in the open and refused to leave her alone.

“Rafe?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you working for Phillip?”

His hands stopped. “I’m not.”

Yara turned around and faced him. “Who are you working for then?”

He straightened on the chair and looked away. “It doesn’t matter because I’m not working with them anymore. Not after the bomb.”

“Whoever your boss is hired you to follow me, so he probably planted the bomb in the ring too.”

“Quite possibly,” he replied, then pinned her with his grey eyes. “But the question is why.”

She took a deep breath. If she wanted him to prove his loyalty, now was the time to give him the chance to do it. On the other hand, she could let a little bit of rope, test his reaction, then decide if he was worthy of her trust or not.

“Not long ago, we apprehended a scientist who had developed a very powerful type of bullet.”

“What do you mean by ‘powerful bullet’?”

“Well, let’s just say that they are this big,” she replied indicating how tiny they were with her fingers. “And can melt a dragon into ashes in a matter of seconds.”

Rafe’s eyes went wide in worry.

“Yep,
that
bad,” Yara added.

His Adam’s apple worked up and down. Did she smell lime in the air? No, it was probably just her imagination. He couldn’t be lying to her because he hadn’t told her anything. Yet.

“Did you apprehend the bullets as well?” he asked her.

“We destroyed the factory but one box went … missing.”

“Missing?” He cocked an eyebrow at her.

“It was snatched out of my hands,” she admitted sourly. “We’ve been searching for it and the S.O.B. who took it, before he can sell it, or worse, use them.”

“But how much damage can he do? I mean, it’s just one box right?”

“It’s not
just
a box of bullets, Rafe, imagine what could happen if they fall into the wrong hands? What if someone else can reproduce them after learning from a sample?”