Hold Me If You Can (11 page)

Ella grabbed his arm. “She’ll never survive all that.”

“She won’t survive without it.” Nigel fully opened his connection with Natalie, and then he released the entire force into her, attacking the last blade and every bit of damage in the same instant, a whiteout blast of energy powerful enough to blow her to pieces if he didn’t manage it right.

But Nigel was aware of every cell in her body, of every fragment of metal circulating inside her, of every breath of life, of every taint of death. He attuned himself to the very beat of her soul, until his own heart was beating in rhythm, until his spirit was vibrating at the same level of hers.

The connection was alive and intimate, a merging of the souls that stripped him raw and laid him out for her. But he didn’t feel exposed. It was where he’d needed to be, where he’d always needed to be. His entire world was Natalie’s body, her soul, her existence, the danger trying to take her. He could feel her soul calling to him, opening for his touch, and he allowed the warmth of her energy to fill him, empowering him.

There was no resistance from Natalie. She was opening herself to him, trusting him to help her. He could feel her calling to him, drawing his energy even deeper into hers, mixing their auras until they were indistinguishable. Her love, her warmth, her fears, her sensuality wrapped around, drawing from him responses so deep and so powerful he couldn’t have stopped them if he’d wanted to.

But he didn’t. No chance. He’d never felt this alive, this connected, this beautiful in his whole existence, and he never wanted to step away. And he wouldn’t. Not as long as she needed him.
I
won’t let you down, Natalie. I swear it.
Wrapping his warmth around her spirit, he cradled her soul protectively as his healing raced through the battlefield, wiping away the insidious damage he’d caused, and he felt each moment her body inhaled with relief as he freed another part, and tightened the bond between them.

Again and again and again.

And then her heart stuttered, and it began to beat its rhythm, that beautiful, amazing rhythm that spoke of life, of future, of healing. His heart matched hers, and he bowed his head, allowing the power of her life force to roll through him. Her soul reached for him, and he met her, their energy holding onto each other as they both began to breathe again.

They’d done it.

Together, they’d defeated his darkest side.

For now.

***

Nigel liked to be right.

As a man, it was his calling. To be right. Always right. Especially about anything that might have to do with such manly pursuits as battle, weapons, or torture.

But as Nigel vaulted up the stairs from the basement hideaway of Natalie’s store, where he’d reluctantly left a recovering Natalie in the devoted care of Ella and Maggie, he knew it wasn’t a matter of liking to be right.

He
had
to be right this time, and he had to know
now
whether he was. Once he’d gotten Natalie settled comfortably and knew she would soon be waking up, he had to go check. It had been all he could do to tear himself away from her when all he wanted was to sit with her on his lap, but he’d forced himself to leave.

It was just for a minute, but that minute was everything. It would give him answers about what they were facing, about whether he would have to call upon Natalie to trespass into areas she didn’t want to go, whether life was a whole lot darker than he wanted it to be.

There was only one way to know what their future was holding, and that was to find out who he had really drawn on the floor of the ally. Christian or Blaine? Or someone else?

As Nigel sprinted out the back door of the store, he did a very careful and thorough scan to make sure there were no threats lurking nearby that could endanger Natalie while she was out of his presence.

The area was secure. No deedubs, no threats. Just the taint of black magic that was trailing after Natalie. Shit. They had to deal with that, and soon. No way could he let her turn into her worst nightmare. Just couldn’t happen.

He sprinted into the alley and headed straight for the Dunkin’ Donuts coffee and the wooden stirrer that had saved his sanity. He crouched beside the abandoned coffee and searched the debris for the picture he’d drawn.
Come
on, let me be right.

And then he saw it, and glory be, he was right. The face scowling up at him was Blaine’s, not Christian’s. “Hot damn.” He sat back on his heels and closed his eyes.

After he’d tried to draw Natalie and had wound up drawing Christian instead, he’d been worried that he’d remembered wrong this time, that he hadn’t noticed what he’d really been drawing.

But he was right. It hadn’t been Christian. Christian was still safe.
Yes.

He flexed his shoulders, feeling power rush through him. So, yeah, he was back in control. He was the master of his domain again. It would make sense that he was. He was a man, after all, and he was in utter control of who he was, right? Nigel grinned and rubbed out Blaine’s feet with the toe of his boot. “Not to take any chances, though, buddy—”

The feet didn’t disappear. He scuffed his boot over Blaine’s face… but the dried coffee remained intact. Nigel frowned and kicked at the dirt, but the image didn’t budge. It was permanently struck on the ally floor, forever. Coffee on dirt? Permanent? The sharp pulse of dread knifed through his back.

He pulled out his phone and dialed his team leader.

Blaine’s phone went straight to voicemail.

“Call me now,” Nigel barked into the phone.

Then he dialed again. Straight to voicemail.

Blaine never turned his phone off. He lived by the creed that you never turned your back on your team, and going offline could mean he wasn’t there for someone when he was needed, so he never turned it off. Ever.

Nigel dialed Jarvis, who answered on the first ring. “Yo, painter boy. Did it work?”

“Yeah. Is Blaine around?” Jarvis and Blaine had joined forces to take their new women on a romantic interlude somewhere in the South Pacific.

“No, I haven’t seen him today. Heard some screaming from their cabin earlier, but you know how those two get—”

Nigel’s palms began to burn and smoke rose from them. “Check their cabin.”

“What? No way. I’ll get set on fire if they’re in the middle of—”

“Check their cabin. Now.”

Jarvis was silent for a moment. “What’s going on, Nigel?”

Nigel told him.

“Hell, man, don’t paint me.” There was the sound of boots thudding on the wooden deck of the cruise ship as Jarvis loped toward the cabin.

Waiting, unable to do anything constructive, Nigel stared helplessly at the metal blades jammed in the buildings around him, evidence of his descent into insanity. He saw a well-dressed couple walking toward him, and he watched their faces morph into shock and fear when they noticed the millions of knives lodged in everything.

“It must have been a gang fight,” the man said.

“What if they come back?” The woman clutched her purse to her side.

Oh, they’re back. You’re looking right at him.
Nigel watched them turn and scurry back down the alley. Away from the monster who had left behind such carnage.

“Blaine! Trinity!” Jarvis hammered on the door cabin door. “You guys in there?”

Nigel let a small dagger ease out of his palm, and he crouched beside the drawing of Blaine and tried to chisel it off the asphalt.

The blade broke. The coffee drawing stayed intact. Indestructible. Yeah, and that was a good sign. “No answer,” Jarvis said. “I’ll break in.” There was a loud crash and then the sound of wood splintering.

Sweat trickled down Nigel’s back, and his skin began to burn. Not just his palms. His shoulders. His back. His face. Blades taking shape all over his whole body. Again. Come on! Where was his control? This was crap!

“There’s no one here,” Jarvis said. “The hair dryer is still on, and Blaine’s electric razor is running. They got yanked.”

Nigel swore and threw the dagger into the asphalt. It hit the coffee and bounced off, as if the drawing was magically protected.

Which it probably was.

Son of a bitch. Mari had corrupted his painting and used it to steal another warrior.

“I’ll be home as fast I as I can,” Jarvis said.

Nigel realized he was reaching for that same coffee stirrer again, and he jammed his hand in his pocket, taking away his chance to draw before he could burn someone else. “It’ll be over before then.”

One way or another, this was one battle that was going to die fast.

And Natalie was his only chance to survive it.

Would she even be willing to come near him after he’d almost killed her?

She’d trusted him to save her, yeah, but now that she was okay, would she be foolish enough to risk herself with him?

If she had any sense of self-preservation, she would boot his ass out of her life forever. For good.

“Maggie, I’ve changed my mind,” Ella said.

Natalie rolled over as Ella’s voice penetrated her subconscious.

“About what?” Maggie asked.

“I’m not going to help Natalie,” Ella said.

“What?” Natalie forced her eyes open and looked groggily around. She was startled to find they were in the Creative Brainstorming Utopia below her store, her private retreat that she never allowed anyone in, or had even told anyone about. How had the women found it?

The Utopia had deep red tapestries, a handwoven tasseled rug, textured bronzed walls, and dim lighting. The room was only a few feet wide, a former boiler room or something, but she’d co-opted it as a place to clear her mind and create new recipes. There was no room for furniture, but she’d covered the floor with a decadent number of thick, luxurious pillows in an assortment of fabrics more expensive than most of the cars on Newbury Street. It was a place of sensual assault in all directions, with the lighting and the colors and the fabrics and the music.

The moment she entered this room, Natalie’s soul always came alive. The deepest sources of her power would course through her. It was where she spent a half hour every morning before heading upstairs to start wooing customers. It was the place where she released a lifetime of fear of her oncoming death and doomed future. It was where she tapped into herself and her sensuality.

She hadn’t come here in weeks. And she’d intended never to visit it again, ever since her experience with the Godfather had cleared her of any desire to tap into her sensuality ever again. But she had no immunity to this room that she’d designed specifically to tap into her sensual side, and she felt warmth stirring deep in her as thoughts of Nigel drifted into her mind. His broad shoulders, his intense gaze, the way he—dammit! “What are we doing down here?” She couldn’t quite keep the panic out of her voice.

Ella’s face lit up. “You’re awake!” She flung her arms around Natalie and hugged her. “I’m so glad!”

“Me, too!” Maggie tackled them both, and Natalie caught a whiff of the girl’s chocolate scent.

Oh, yeah, she’d forgotten about the “need to eat the young woman who had come to her for protection” thing. Natalie pulled back from Maggie and breathed through her mouth so she couldn’t smell the delicious fragrance that was making her stomach clench. “No, seriously. Why are we down here?”

Ella’s forehead was furrowed. “Okay, so I know we barely know each other, but I feel like sharing a near-death experience has created one of those instant lifetime bonds.”

Maggie perched beside Ella. “I’m going to second that.”

“Near-death?” Natalie started crawling over the pillows for the door. Her skin was itching, crawling with the need to tap into her sensuality. She had to get out before she succumbed. Where was Nigel? Was he nearby? What would it be like if he walked in here? Oh, God. That was just too frightening and, of course, decadently thrilling. “Whose death are you talking about?”

“Yours.”

Natalie stopped crawling for the door to stare at them. “Mine? Did a deedub bite me or something?” Oh, wow. She’d meant it as a joke, but the mere words caused adrenaline to rush through her. She wanted to leap up with swords brandished, ready to fight for her life. Except, of course, she had no swords or swashbuckling skills, so yeah, that wasn’t going to work.

“No, not a deedub.”

“Well, that’s good.” But the denial didn’t reassure Natalie when she saw the wary glance the two women exchanged. Natalie started heading for the door again. She needed space. She needed fresh air, and she needed to be away from all the sensuous thoughts of Nigel that were crowding common sense and survival mode out of her mind.

Then Ella looked at her. “Nigel almost killed you, of course.”

“Nigel? He would never—” Natalie stopped, her hand on the doorknob, at the sudden memory of all those blades erupting from Nigel’s body. The look of fury on his face, his lethal anger, his roar of rage before all those blades had started pouring out of him. The sensation of that one slamming into her chest. He’d become a monster. The mellow Nigel she knew, the man of art and serenity… he’d been swallowed up by the beast, an assassin who had almost killed her—

The door opened, and Nigel stepped into the room.

Natalie jumped and then tumbled back as Ella yanked her away from him.

“Get out of here,” Ella commanded. “You’re dangerous.”

His shirt was caked with blood, and it was ripped to shreds. New pink scars peppered his body, and his eyes were dark with a raw determination she’d never seen before. There was no sign of the artist. He was pure warrior and pure action.

And he was focused on her. “Everyone but Natalie, out.”

Natalie’s belly tightened. With what, she wasn’t certain. Sheer unbridled terror? Raw, sexual attraction? Heart-wrenching empathy for this man whose inner monster had taken him somewhere he loathed to go? None of it good, whatever it was.

Ella stood up, her hands fisted by her side. Her skin rippled with blue-green luminescence, and power crackled in the air. “You will—”

He clamped over her mouth. “
Never
try to suggest anything to me,” he said with lethal calmness. “Or you die.”

Ella’s eyes widened, and she pulled away. “I don’t do that anymore,” she snapped.

He met her gaze knowingly. “Not even to save Natalie from me?”

“No—” Then Ella’s face paled with realization. “I was doing it, wasn’t I?”

“I could feel the power of your words,” he said. “Never, ever try that again.”

Ella ran her hand through her hair, and Natalie saw her hands were shaking. “Ella!” She scrambled over to the pillows toward her friend. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Ella pulled her shoulders back and met Natalie’s. She’d shelved the fear, but Natalie could feel it pulsing within her. She knew, because she had lived with that kind of terror her whole life, and she knew how it could eat away at a soul. It was fear of what monsters lay within. “Ella—”

“No.” Ella squared her shoulders and faced Nigel. “Leave us,” she said, but her voice was flat and calm. No force of suggestion. “You’re too dangerous.”

Recognition flashed in Nigel’s eyes, and he inclined his head. “I am,” he agreed. He met Natalie’s gaze again, and this time there was acknowledgment in his eyes. “This is your opportunity to walk away, Natalie. One chance, and if you don’t take it, I’m keeping you until this is over.”

His tone was brutal and unyielding, and it sent a shudder through her, a quiver of longing. He wouldn’t leave her. No matter what. He could keep her alive, and he would.

Of course he might snap and kill her, too.

What was a girl to do? Bad boys were one thing, but
bad
boys were something else entirely. She’d had enough men luring her to her death, thank you. She shook her head. “I can’t—”

His face hardened before she even finished her denial, and guilt coursed through her. He needed her. He’d snapped, and in the most horrible way. She knew him well enough to know that he would never, ever turn on her intentionally, so she knew it had been out of his control. She could see the haunting horror in his eyes, the anguish of knowing that he’d lost a battle of the worst kind. Her fingers folded with the urge to reach out and touch him, to reassure him that he wasn’t a monster, that whatever had happened wasn’t him, and she knew it. For him to snap like that, dear God, what kind of beast was he fighting within?

Nigel was burning with passion, with strength, with power. He was life, and he wasn’t going to lose, and he wasn’t going to die. Maybe he could teach her how to be the victor. Maybe he could show her how to defend her own life and believe in herself. Maybe—

Ella took her arm. “Girl, I know he’s hot, but some men just aren’t worth it.” She shuddered. “Don’t go down that road. Not with him. You know what men like him are like. There are other ways—”

“No!” Maggie scrambled to her feet, stumbling over the cushions. “I touched him while he was saving. He has a good soul.” She grabbed Natalie’s other arm, her young face raw with a grown-up understanding that Natalie didn’t expect. It was the face of someone who had been through hell and was still living in its shadow. She tugged on Natalie. “He saved your life, Natalie.”

“He did?” Natalie suddenly recalled hearing his voice while she’d been catapulting down the crevasse. With the demons stalking her, the hell chasing her, she’d heard his voice calling to her. She could still feel his warmth plunging into her body, yanking her back from the free fall, ripping through the pain crushing her chest. He’d been there, and he’d brought her back. “Of course he did,” she said softly. “Of course he has a good soul.”

Nigel still hadn’t spoken, but his brow furrowed ever so slightly at her words, as if he couldn’t quite believe what she’d said. He made no effort to convince her to stay and help him. He was simply waiting for her answer. Allowing her to find her own path. His face was impassive and hard, as if he already knew she was going to abandon him. Abandon his friend he needed to save. Abandon the man who’d had no one to count on for one hundred and fifty years of hell.

God, she wanted to help him, but being around him brought out the very traits in herself she was trying so hard to suppress. What would happen if she spent more time around him? If she liked him more? He already tapped into her womanly side in a way that—

Natalie caught a whiff of chocolate, of Maggie’s scent, and a violent craving crashed through her. She whipped toward Maggie, grabbed the girl’s wrist, and yanked her close. Her teeth began to throb, and she fixated on Maggie’s throat. Heard the rush of the blood coursing through her veins. Knew it would taste like chocolate decadence. Her body tingled in anticipation of the high she could get.

“Natalie?”

Natalie jerked her gaze off Maggie’s throat and saw the raw fear on the girl’s face. Holy shit. Natalie looked at Nigel, and she saw the empathy in his eyes. The understanding. He knew what she was becoming, and he wasn’t judging her.

She couldn’t battle the demons on her own. Nigel was dangerous, but so was she. Apart, they were both turning into monsters of hell. Together? Maybe they’d be the demise of each other, but maybe, just maybe, they had a chance.

She took a deep breath, not taking her eyes off the warrior who had (apparently) killed her once and had (definitely) saved her twice. He was her best chance to live, and also to die. But everything else gave her the chance only to die. “It’s okay, girls. You can go.”

Nigel let out his breath and nodded, his eyes lighting up. She smiled back at him, and suddenly teaming up with him didn’t seem so dangerous. It just felt right, deliciously, powerfully right.

Maggie grinned. “I’m so glad,” she said. “We need help, sister.”

Sister?
Natalie looked sharply at Maggie, and she warmed at her expression of trust. Maggie had no one left in this world, and she’d put her faith in Natalie.
Sister.
“All of my sisters except Reina are dead,” she said.

Maggie nodded. “Mine, too.” She held out her hand. “So, let’s start our lives over. Sister?”

Natalie’s throat thickened, and she thought of her sisters, dying one by one. She’d held out her hands to them to try to keep them safe, to bring them back, and each one had left her behind. No one had held on. No one had reached back for her help.

Until now.

Until this sweet young thing that Natalie was going to attack if she didn’t find a way to stop herself.

But as Natalie looked into Maggie’s hopeful and desperate face, she knew she wanted to help her. To save her the way she hadn’t been able to save herself or her sisters. And she certainly couldn’t bear to become the monster that had taken them all.

But until she stopped Mari and Angelica from off-loading smut onto her, Maggie wasn’t safe, and Natalie was going to become the monster who’d destroyed her life. She knew what she wanted. She wanted to live, she wanted Maggie to live, and she wanted to be able to open her heart to people again. She wanted all of it more than she wanted to run away from who she was. And she couldn’t do it without Nigel.

“Nat?” Maggie prompted.

“I’m with you.” She squeezed Maggie’s hand. “Sister.” The word stuck in her throat, making her ache with longing for the sisters she’d lost, for the hope that maybe life was turning around.

“Great!” Maggie grinned. “I’ll go work on some recipes upstairs.” She gestured to Ella. “Come on! You can take notes on the proper ingredients to stir a man into total and complete ecstasy.” She squeezed past Nigel, after giving him a look of adoration.

Ella was slower to leave, but she finally left, too.

Nigel stepped aside to let Ella pass, then he walked in and pulled the door shut behind him.

And suddenly, the room full of everything that tipped her off sensually seemed very, very small.

***

Nigel stepped inside Natalie’s private hideaway and shut the door. He leaned back against wood, and she heard the click as he locked them in. His shoulders were as wide as the door, and his black leather pants and black T-shirt were taut across his muscled body. The rose tattoo on his cheek was shadowed, and his eyes were hooded. He looked dangerous and delicious.

And he was blocking the only exit.

Heat began to unfurl inside her belly as they stood there in silence, letting the weight of their presence hang heavy in the air. She shifted her position on the pillows. The velvet was soft and seductive against her bare feet, caressing the tender skin and making chills run down her spine.

Or were the chills from the way Nigel was looking at her? Um, yeah, locked inside this sensual room with the man she’d already had a little trouble resisting? Wasn’t this exactly the kind of deadly and explosive combination that people warned about? “So, um, are you okay now?”

“Apparently not.” He didn’t move from the door, but his gaze swept over her body. Possessive. Owning.

“I’m so sorry.” She searched his arms but didn’t see any blades on the verge of emerging. “Can I help?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he seemed to need to clarify her choice, as if he couldn’t quite believe it. “You stayed.”