Under His Guard (10 page)

Raine reached an arm across me when I would've walked over the threshold. “We have to wait for Madam.”

A tall woman came forth from a purple velvet curtain that obstructed our sight of the club's interior. She wore a corset that constricted her flat chest even more and lacy black stockings under her short skirt. Her obsidian skin and shaved head added to her sharp looks.

“Madam.” Raine's red hair flowed over her hand as be brought it to his lips.

“Raine. And who is this?” Her long, bloodred painted fingernail scratched down the center of my chest.

“Darke.”

Her slivered eyes never strayed from me. “Oh, but he is.” She dragged in a deep breath. “I can feel him.”

Jesus Christ. Is everyone an empath now?

Leon stood rigid next to me. His jealousy pierced my skin like hot knives. Something about the way the woman looked at me sparked a territorial urge in him.

I captured Madam's trailing hand and gently guided it back to her side. “A pleasure,” I said with a dip of my head.

“The pleasure is mine. Perhaps we'll catch up later.”

“Perhaps she'll catch a case of pubic lice later from some other stud,” Leon muttered beneath his breath.

The tall black woman had already turned to sweep the curtain aside. She ushered us into the Amphitheater. “Condoms are free. Drinks are not. Weapons are allowed”—her hand snaked to the front of my pants—“only when kept on safety.”

Leon knocked her hand aside. “I'll make sure he keeps it on safety, unless he's usin' it on me.”

I grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him to me. His eyes popped wide before my mouth crashed down on his. My tongue twisted against his, thrusting quickly inside. Biting his lip, I broke away. Leon gasped, his lips wet from mine.

Madam watched with greedy pleasure. Silently acknowledging our connection, she swept away. The others cleared their throats, trying to look busy while surveying the scene before us.

Liz grinned. “I guess I don't have to break you two up tonight, huh?”

The last time I'd been to a Theater was outside of Beta, with Leon, Liz, and Linc. The moments before it was blitzed by CEO Cutler's unmanned drone planes still haunted me. Leon had said he was tired of my games. He'd never looked back as he marched away from me.

I released Leon's neck and grabbed hold of his hand. I quickly shut down the unbidden memory to gain a read on our whereabouts. The room was cavernous and dark, lit only by bars of bright strobe lights that flashed across the chamber in dizzying speeds. Smoke pumped from the corners of the octagonal room, adding to the impenetrability of bodies twisting to the beat of primal music. The walls were dotted with passageways and tunnels that snaked away from the main chamber. There were too many people, too many rooms, and too much chance of getting lost.

“Split up in pairs—that's why I chose y'all tonight,” I instructed. “Work this room only. Keep your D-Ps on. Let's track down this Colt and get the fuck out of here pronto.”

“Affirmative.” They slid off, blending in with the dancers.

I kept Leon's hand tight in mine when he started moving away. “You're with me.”

“What about
Madame la pute
?”

“I don't want her, and I think I made that pretty damn clear.” I held his wrists gently behind his back and nuzzled his neck. “I want you.”

“Possessive,” he gasped.

I let go of his wrists to grab his ass. I thrust against him. “Obsessed.”

Pushing away from me, Leon danced right into a throng of people throwing their fists into the air. I sent him a glower. He grinned. Wrapping his hands behind his head, he moved to a sinuous rhythm, his body slowly corrupting any thoughts of recon. Barely controlled chaos jumped around us, but the crowd moved like a wave, bringing us closer together.

Music invaded my body. The woman on stage threw herself about, her long pink hair covering her face as she riffed speedy raps. The vibrant energy was hypnotic. I locked sights on Leon. He rolled his hips, one hand cupping his crotch. There was no denying his sensuality as he pushed his kilt lower, licking his lips. A crisp line of hair curled around his fingertips.

I wanted to suck his cock right down my throat.

People tossed their heads back, bouncing against one another. Mashing bodies, sweaty skin, and the scent of sex propelled me to him. The energy was a flagrant
fuck
you
to the CO, the CEO, and the anemic Corps. The air seethed with desire in every permutation. Man on man. Woman on woman. Threes, twos, a hundred titillating scenes made the air muggy with rebellious lust.

Nothing and no one was as riveting as Leon, who pressed his hips to mine when I reached him. I ran my hands down his bare chest inside the vest, tucked my fingers into the top of his kilt, and hauled him to me.

“You're a damn tease, boy.” My lips brushed his ear; then I outlined it with my tongue until he shivered.

“Thought I wasn't a boy to you no more.” He tossed his hair back. The black locks were disconcerting.

“Good boys get what they ask for.” I nipped his earlobe and he sighed. My palm slid between his thighs, grazing the hot hard bar of his cock inside kilt. “What they beg for. Are you my boy?”

He lifted one eyebrow. “Are you man enough to take me?”

Just as I moved in to claim his lips, the music stopped. The flare of lights halted. I reached for my gun, shoving Leon behind my back. As I searched the vast, crowded room, I didn't discern any immediate threat, but I didn't relax my stance until an enormous D-P screen materialized over the stage as if from thin air.

Cannon and Nathaniel appeared beside us, sweat streaming off their bodies.

“Damn. I want one of those.” Nathaniel's mouth dropped open.

Cannon gently pressed it closed. “Hatch would jizz his pants over that.”

I turned to the screen when the multitude burst into loud jeers. CEO Cutler appeared, doing one of his thrice-daily promos. Having never met the man myself, I knew Nathaniel and Linc's father only through their horror stories, from Liz, and from Miss Eden, his estranged wife. Now I couldn't wait to slit his throat and watch him bleed out. Preferably over a crisp, clean white shirt like the one he wore for tonight's broadcast of bullshit.

“Hello, friends. Freelanders…freeloaders.”

Asshole was not doing himself any favors, insulting my fellow revelers, who
boo
ed and threw bottles at the screen until alcohol dripped down it.

“Why are they showing this here?” I asked Raine as he sidled up to us.

“Revving up the Revolution. Nothin' gets the masses hotter than a nice nighttime parable from the paramount douche bag himself.”

“By now you've heard about the Plague II.” Cutler folded his hands in his lap. “It doesn't have to be like this. There are many of you out there, my little time bombs, ready to spread the disease…All of you were chosen for willful disobedience against the Company. Of course,
of course
, there is a vaccination. Company officers and Corps have been inoculated, as have all trusted citizens of the InterNations.” He leaned in. His eyes were filled with hate he could not hide. “Do you want to face mass extermination again?”

His voice continued to boom over the razzing shouts of the Amphitheater crowd. “All you have to do, rebels, Nomads, is stand down. Accept One Rule. If you continue with this insurgency, I will begin to release the names of the infected. You may do what you must to curb the virus headed your way.”

A shudder went through Leon, and I felt the same cold chill envelop my body.

I hugged him tight. “No one will find out, baby.”

“You can't be sure of dat.”

No sooner had Cutler shut the fuck up than the screen scrambled. People quieted once more as a voice came over the speakers and everyone cheered: “THE VOICE! THE VOICE!”

“Someone should tell him to get a better nickname.” Liz sighed beside me, appearing from the vaporous stretch of the room with Linc at her back.

“Accept One Rule? Accept nothing but total victory!”
The Voice
sounded off from the fuzzed-out D-P that provided no visual, just a background. It was the same speaker we'd first listened to in Chitamauga.

“We will not accept the yoke of slavery around our necks for another half century. The CEO is scared. He's using fear to tie our hands and turn us against each other. We can defeat his virus. We can heal the carriers.”

The swarming mass surrounding us roared with deafening shouts that almost drowned out the transmission.

“UNITE! UNITE FOR THE CURE! DEATH TO THE COMPANY! Remember: Love Free or Die!”

Music pumped on as the strobes lit back up. The crowd seethed with a fever pitch of excitement. I stood still amid the dancers, pushing people back as they knocked into Leon and me. Something was off. I could feel it.

Raine…I found him across the room, cornering another man.

“Stay put.” I released Leon to Cannon's care, well aware Leon would've flayed my flesh with his glare if he could have.

The man Raine talked to had rings through every visible part of his body—nipples, nose, lips, ears…His lips thinned as he shook his head at whatever Raine demanded. Gone was Raine, the
comme ci comme ça
Freelander. He looked harsh now, his shoulders drawn up tight.

“Problem here?” I asked when I reached them.

Raine glanced in my direction. He visibly relaxed. “Not at all, my friend.”

The other man looked scared shitless.

“This is Colt, Darke.” Raine's smile unsettled my gut. “You can talk with him later. Right now I think he needs a drink—don't you?”

Colt slipped away in the direction of the bar.

“He looks a little nervous.”

“He's got the shakes.” Raine lit a cigarette, taking a deep drag. “Opiates are his thing. Hard to come by when the Company trawls our waters and black-markets our wares to line their own pockets.”

“I need to find out if he has this plant you talked about for the cure.”

He put an arm around my shoulders. “No doubt. You will. Just let him get a few drinks down his gullet first to loosen him up. Hey, I could use one, too. You?”

I allowed Raine to steer me to a different bar and accepted a cold bottle. My first sip relaxed my throat. The second spluttered all over the floor. Leon was pushing my patience to the breaking point, dancing directly in my line of sight…with that motherfucking Colt. His red lips were curved in a teasing smirk. Colt's hand slid up Leon's chest. My vision turned red. Forget questioning the snitch. I was gonna kill him. I banged my beer to the bar and barged right between the two.

Leon whirled on me. “I jus' wanna forget.
Mais
yeah, I already did dat, didn't I?” His laughter harsh, he slapped a palm against my chest to push me away. I didn't move. “Forget the war. Forget the virus. Forget for tonight. I ain't dead yet.”

“Then dance with me.”

“What?”

“Dance with me.” My hands found his hips.

“I don' think—”

“You never think. That's what I lo—” I inhaled briskly, stopping myself. “That's what I like about you. You feel without considering the consequences.”

His head cocked back. “Dat ain't a compliment.”

“Yes, it is.” I palmed the back of his head, my fingers sifting through his hair. “Dance with me, Leon. Feel me now.”

I groaned when his hands slowly linked behind my neck. Our chests pressed together. “Yes, baby.”

His skin was the smoothest I'd ever felt. As I dragged my palms down his back inside his vest, Leon's muscles were firm, flexing beneath my touch. My thumbs circled the dimples above his ass, easing him closer. Our cocks rolled against each other through our clothing, and my breath stopped momentarily just to speed even faster.

“I want you so much, Leon.”

He scattered kisses up my throat to my chin. “You break me into pieces.”

“You put me back together.” The almighty ache for him reached much farther than the exquisitely painful rush of blood pounding through my body. “I'll put you together again.”

We danced together until I was practically making love to Leon on the floor, one of his legs wrapped around my thigh. His shallow gasps made me groan, his hands floating all over my body, under my shirt, making my skin burn with arousal. I pumped against him again, watching his eyes roll back.

“Tonight. I'm going to have you tonight.” My voice was gritty.

Leon slid his leg down from my thigh. He peeled away from me. My mouth had left a red-purple mark on his throat, and I leaned forward to give him one on the other side. But he placed a hand against my chest, holding me back.

“I just wanna get a drink. You asked for time. I need space. Five minutes.” He patted his hip “'Sides, I got my gun.”

I allowed him the space he wanted and called all the others from my D-P. The ping back was immediate—no threats, nothing learned, and Colt vamoosed.
Waste of time.
A few minutes passed, and I grew anxious for Leon's return. My anxiety took a turn for the worse when a sudden spike of fear jetted through me.
Leon.

“All points on Leon, now!” I shouted into my D-P. I waited a heart-stopping moment for the others to get back to me. I scanned the overcrowded room, searching for a shock of black hair.
I swear to God if he's getting himself groped by another loser with happy hands, I'm gonna
—

“I've got no visual,” Liz called in.

“We have nothing. He's not near the entrance or the stage.” Cannon sounded like he was pounding pavement in his haste to locate Leon.

Darwin checked in. “The bars are clear!”

I was at the back of the palace, Leon nowhere to be found. Worry reached so deep inside me, it made my hands unsteady, and I almost dropped the gun I'd raised on instinct. Scattering people before me, I ran through one of the twisty passageways—closest to the dance floor where we'd been. More of Leon's fear arrowed at me, sharper and clearer the closer I got to an opening in the long, cool stone corridor ahead.