No Time to Cry (Nine While Nine Legacy Book 1) (13 page)

“Now Iliana,” his voice a
warning, “before you fly out of here, yes, I’ve given you more forbearance, and
more considerations than any other tyro I’ve ever had.”

We were now in something of
a heated staring contest, not the yummy-sexy kind either, but that thought
warmed my face and I had to look away. Why had he? Why the extra
kindness
?
I was curious, kind of beyond.

“Why?” I turned back to him,
narrowing my eyes at him. “Why the special treatment?”

“Why?” He nearly growled, as
he threw the question back at me.

He seemed royally pissed and
put upon that I could even ask such a thing. “Could it be that we spent nearly an
entire day getting you back here, your first night looking for you after you
pulled what seems to be your trademark disappearing act, and the next afternoon
searching for you again? Then I give you two days in hopes that you might wrap
your sweet little mind around this concept of what we are and what we do…of
what you are now, and what is expected of you. We cannot play these games for
even one more day.”

His response was not
satisfactory.

He explained the 'what' not
the 'why'.

I was referring to his
coddling
,
he seemed to still be stuck on everything that I had done wrong, my poor
behavior. He had not answered
why
I had received this unique treatment;
instead he had skirted the issue with what was obvious fact and moved on in his
criticism.

”Do you know yet why I’m
different? Have you found
anything
out?” I could sound just as
overburdened as his tone conveyed.

“No.” His answer was surly,
clipped.

Coddling me. Damn, that
rubbed me the wrong way. But whatever.

At least I’d be with Liam.
Let’s see how easy it was for him to ignore me when we had to work together.

The silence stretched out
for a few heartbeats, with him not offering any resolution.

“Fine. When? How?” I was
ready to get out of here. I felt like I was losing any hold I might have had
over him with the way I looked. Other than an occasional fleeting glance of
what might be appreciation, I didn’t seem to possess all that much sway over
him.

And I wasn’t even sure why
that exactly bothered me in the slightest.

Or why I kept thinking of
his mouth, his breath on my cheek, so close to my lips.

Stop, stop, stop
.

“Does Liam know?”

“Yes. And there is to be no
fighting. And no taking off and doing one of your vanishing acts,” he lectured.
“Liam will be at your place at nine in the morning. You’ll meet up with Halah
after that.”

“Fine,” I repeated. I wanted
so much to hate him. Why couldn’t I feel hate for him? Why did I have to feel
this, this…what the hell was this? This inclination to not leave the room or
move away from him when that was exactly what I wanted to do the most?

Wasn’t it?

“It doesn’t have to be this
way, Iliana. There doesn’t have to be this relentless clashing between us. This
is your life now, your job. The sooner you really accept it, quit fighting it…me…at
every turn, the better off you will be.”

“I said okay.”

“Merely words,” he
admonished. Why did that sting?

“I’ll be ready at nine.
You’ll get your cull.” I rose gracefully, again smoothing my hands down the
length of my dress, my body, watching him from under my lashes, watching
something rise in his eyes. Hmm, that had worked perfectly. “Make sure Liam’s
on time. I don’t like to be kept waiting,” I remarked icily as I strode from
the room, head held high.

He didn’t utter a word. I
was mildly shocked. He didn’t say a single word, or try to stop me.

But I could feel his eyes on
me, following me.

I made it out of Elysium without encountering any of the others,
the Contingency of Death—I couldn’t even begin to pronounce the words he’d
said…I’d have to make a point of getting a copy of that chart, so I could get
them all fixed in my brain.

I shook my head. So much
weirdness. All so much like something I’d write about. And it was my life now.
I did giggle, now that I was alone, with the night, and the wind. This life was
a gothic girl’s fantasy come true. I needed to find a way to embrace it. Why
not, right?

‘The beginning is the end is
the beginning’, according to Billy Corrigan of the Smashing Pumpkins anyway.

 
~ Chapter Fifteen ~

When I arrived at Allegory, after a short cab ride to Pioneer
Square, there was a line halfway down the block to get in. Popular place I
guess.

It reminded me of my days at Stigmata or Helter Skelter in
Hollywood; back when they had been cool places to go dancing with my friends.
My friends.

I strode alongside the line,
feeling sheathed in that whole goddess-like confidence, so foreign to me.

Faces turned my way, eyes
followed. I felt—actually
felt
traces of admiration, jealousy, hunger.
How could I feel that without even looking at any of them? Was this something
to do with what I was now? Did the others have this?

The doorman let me in
without a word, without a cover charge, without checking my I.D. Strange new
world for me. I didn’t look all
that much
different really and I used to
be stuck in lines just like this, just like everyone else, waiting for my turn
to be admitted, sometimes an hour or more wait time.

Music pumped loudly through
the room. An old Cure song,
A Forest,
but it was a cover version…I think
it was Bat For Lashes. It was a great cover of a great song. I felt the urge to
move to the dance floor immediately. I fell in with the crowd there, right away
losing myself to the music. Now this felt right. Loud music and a dance floor
and a swaying horde, was always home. It eradicated everything. A smile of
bliss spread across my lips. I felt much better. I felt downright brilliant.
All the confusion fell away. I felt now as though everything really would be,
could be alright. This new life could be dealt with, could be amazing even.

Song after great song
played, endless music, and I danced away the last few days, until my thirst
drove me to the bar for a break. I placed my order for an Aviation cocktail; I
loved a bartender that I didn’t have to explain it to.

I felt someone close behind
me, too close for my liking at the moment. And then there was his voice, before
I could even turn to shoo the space-hog away from me, I heard his voice.

“You look like you were
enjoying yourself.”

It was Liam, leaning in
close to my ear. His words tickled the sensitive skin.

I retrieved my drink from
the bar top, laying down a ten note. I could feel his body so close to my back,
his energy playing against my skin where it was bare along my shoulders.

Why was he here? A buzzing
tremor coursed through me, memories rising. A hunger, raw and sudden, followed
closely. I turned to him, making sure my shoulder brushed against his chest.
The bar area was packed and I was jostled up against him by someone to my
right. How fortuitous. Well, okay…maybe I could have tried harder to stand my
ground, but what the heck. Clubs had always been my hunting ground of sorts.
The music stirred a primal sense inside me, awakening my blood, all my senses,
every cell alive and kindled, beyond anything I’d ever known. Music had always
had that power over me. The ability to enhance me, flavor my mood, alter it
entirely. It could utterly lead me.

“I always do at a club,” I
breathed into his ear. My mouth lingered there a moment before I lifted my
violet-blue drink to my lips. I felt him shudder under my hand, where it rested
on his shoulder. “Why are you here? Gideon have you follow me?” I spoke just
loudly enough for him to hear over the crush of people and the current song
playing by Ministry.

I moved away, not waiting
for his response, knowing he would follow. And he did. Besides, I already knew
the answer. Of course Gideon sent him. At the moment I was beyond caring, taken
over by the new song playing, and this
whatever
it was that seemed to be
part of this new me. It felt almost predatory.

A few steps and he was
catching my arm, pulling me onto the dance floor. No words from him, just a hot
stare. His eyes full of everything he’d been evading.

He pulled me close into him.
I skimmed my hands down his wonderfully muscled back. We were lost in the
center of the crowd. Lost in our eyes, our touches, the way we moved together
with the relentless ambient refrain.

I felt something gathering
within me. A heated energy humming under my skin, buzzing all along its
surface, and then all throughout me. It felt enlivening, soft and yet electric
at the same time. When I closed my eyes I could see it behind my lids—soft
golden-bronze, whirling with bits of violet. It was beautiful. It was part of
me, it held so much possibility. Would be able to do so much.

He took me by the hand and
led me off the floor, his eyes glazed with desire, not breaking contact with
me; we made it to a back hallway before he gave into it and pushed me against
the flyer covered wall. He crushed his mouth against mine.

Oh. Yes. Finally.

I kissed him back just as
hard, just as fervently, running my hands up under his shirt front, over his
exceptionally toned abs. I tugged roughly on his waistband, pulling him closer
into my body. He pulled my head back, kissing my throat, down to the edge of my
bodice. I pulled his face back up to mine. I vaguely noticed people passing us
in the dimly lit hall, they paid us no attention. Two people making out,
nothing new here.

I looked at him; he was
immersed in this, drowning. Why was tonight so different than just a couple of
days ago? Or an hour ago, when he would barely look at me? His eyes were fiery,
glazed, but alert at the same time.

“Iliana,” he growled my
name. Roughly claiming my mouth again. I kissed him back just as eagerly.

Time slipped away, the
buzzing along my skin ever present, growing, spreading out from me, spiraling
through the air. I could see it through my scarcely opened eyes. It brushed
against Liam, caressed him. My eyes eased open just a bit more, drowsily. The
light, the energy from me, wrapped around him gently, held him to me. He moaned
into my mouth, which made me even more fiery. What was this
thing
that
was happening? What was that light?

I let my eyes slip closed
again, savoring this feeling from him and from the humming under my flesh, the
closeness of his body. He was pressed hard against my thigh, and I wanted him.

~Milseachd~

I heard the whisper,
Gideon’s face flashed in my mind. Solid. Strong.

And I could smell that smoky
spiciness of him. It sent a shock through me. What the hell?

I pulled away from Liam,
looked around me, half expecting to see him there behind Liam, or nearby.

But no. Of course not.
Gideon would never come someplace like this.

Liam turned my face back to
him, confusion spread across his features. “What is it?” He asked, his voice
thick, huskier than his usual aroused tone.

“Nothing.” I noticed that
his ardor was evaporating, sense perhaps taking a hold back on him. No. No. No.
I wasn’t ready for that. I wanted this to go on. I kissed him. Repeated softly,
“Nothing.” I shook my head.

That light, the energy was
receding from him, back to me. I watched as it unwrapped from him, tendrils
loosening and unfurling from his body and back to me.

 Gideon had sent him
here. Liam had not followed me of his own boldness; Gideon had made him do it.
I knew it, very distinctly
knew
. I don’t know how, but that flash of
Gideon just a moment ago…it happened again, but fainter this time, and Liam was
with him. I saw Liam with him, and I knew without any doubt what their
conversation had been.

That feeling, that buzzing
electric hum under my skin was fading. Dissipating with the realization that
Liam had not come to find me for this, to be here of his own intentions. The
snogging
had not been in his plan when he’d arrived here.
He was only here, because Gideon had made him come here. Nothing had changed
really.

I wasn’t feeling the music
anymore, not the same way. My thoughts drowning it all out. Liam stopped
holding me close. He shook his head, pulling further away from me. There was a
shocker. I wanted him, but I could tell by that now-much-too-familiar look on
his face that our time was over, the heated spell had been broken.

I went still, preparing
myself for his speech about how we couldn’t ‘do this’. Funny how we always
managed to start it up just fine though.

I moved away from him, gave
him a lingering look and walked away from him before he could say another word.
If he called after me, I didn’t hear him. Ministry was playing; there was no
way to hear anything over N.W.O.

I felt a fleeting pull to
the floor, a momentary flare of that energy in me, but I passed up the dance
floor and headed outside. I wanted distance between myself and Liam. I needed
the cold air. It was time to go home. Alone.

I was completely taken aback
when he caught up to me.

“Iliana.” He seized my arm,
halting my progression up the sidewalk. “At least let me drive you home.” He
was completely composed again, as if nothing has happened just a few minutes
ago. Of course he was.

I looked around me. There
was no way I should try to walk home from here. “I don’t think that’s a good
idea,” I responded instead.

“I’m not letting you walk
home…or take a cab.”

I stood my ground. I wanted
nothing more than to be in a car with him, unless he was going to be cold.

I looked up the street, for
no reason really, other than to figure out what to do, give myself time. I
wanted him to know that I was not pleased that he kept doing this. And I was
angry that he would not be here right now if Gideon had not sent him to trail
after me. That tonight would have, maybe, been a better night if he had not
shown up.

No. It
would
have
been a better night. I would not be feeling
this
, dealing with this and
his denial, if Gideon had just left it alone.

I’d be inside, dancing
still, in a great mood. Living. Not thinking of Liam, not wanting Liam. Maybe I
could have danced with someone else. Someone that had nothing to do with what I
was now.

“I can’t leave here without
you…”

“I know!” I burst out.
“Gideon sent you after me. What is it to him if I’m here? Having some semblance
of a life. What is it to him if I want you?”

He just looked at me, not
denying it and completely ignoring my admission of desire for him. “My car is
up this way.” He waved, not budging from his spot, when what he should be
doing, what I wanted him to do, was to grab me up, pull me to him, and kiss me
as hard as he had when we were in that dark hallway. He was waiting on me. He
gave me an imploring look.

“You’ll be in trouble if you
don’t bring me back, right?” He shrugged, but I knew. Gideon had tasked him.
Gideon was not one to be trifled with. I contemplated the idea of calling a cab,
now that could be a dismal situation. I’d have to call and request one; it
could take an hour or more at this time of night. That left me with walking.
No
.
Begging a ride from a stranger here at the club.
No
. Or accepting Liam’s
offer.
Shit
. “Fine,” I mumbled begrudgingly and began walking to the
car.

“Iliana…” he started.

“There’s nothing to say.
It’s all been said.”

“Talk to—” he began.

“No,” I stated flatly,
shaking my head. I didn’t want to talk. Enough had been said the last time, at
his place. “Just take me home.”

The trip back was quiet, and
pretty quick. Thankfully. The tension in the car was uncomfortable at best. I
could feel Liam wanting to talk.

I was glad it was a
different car that we had made the trip from Long Beach in. It was Jeep. Just
like I’d thought it would be.

He found a rare parking spot
not far from the front of my apartment. Parking around here was tricky.

 I was fighting back a
strong urge to cry and just wanted out of the car. He killed the engine and
began to turn in his seat. I immediately escaped the car, getting out before he
could utter a single word.

The chill in the air wrapped
around me as I walked quickly away, trying to distance myself from him and
wondering if, maybe half hoping, he would come after me.

But he didn’t.

And that hurt too.

I
arranged my beautiful dress back on its hanger and placed it in the closet. It
had done its job well. I smiled sadly. Just not quite well enough. I sighed.

Now for tomorrow. What did one wear to
cull a mhésen? I stared half-heartedly at my assortment of garments. I knew
nothing of where we would be going. The only thing I could count on was the
rain expected for tomorrow. I pulled out some tight grey jeans—very worn and
soft—my brown, knee high, buckle and laced boots; a super soft, tea-stain hued,
linen and antique lace blouse. Casual, but still alluring.

I hoped culling and escorting was not a
messy job, I’d hate to ruin this blouse.