Keeping Secret: Secret McQueen, Book 4 (28 page)

“Come on, Peyton, you like a little pain, don’t you?” Rocking back on my heels, I raised my face to his chained arm and breathed out warmly on his bound hand. “But you like to dish it out… Let’s see how you like to
take
it.” Our gazes locked, the blackness back in his eyes, but the fear and uncertainty remained.

When I bit into his wrist, he jerked away. He fought against me, and I watched him as I tore open the skin without a care in the world for how badly it would hurt. There was no meaty flesh or thick muscle to resist me, just sinew over bone.

Almost no blood came out of the wound. It was a wonder he had any left at all. My gaze never left his as I wiped a smear of blood from the open bite mark onto my palm and licked my lips to clean the remainder off. He tasted bitter, a little too much like copper without any of the sweetness one should find in fresh blood.

I pursed my lips. I was disgusted with myself, but I couldn’t let him see it.

“I’ve had you…” He made as if to laugh, but just wheezed. “And you…have had…me.”

“It doesn’t matter.” I rose to a crouch and loomed over him. If blood was shared between vampires, it forged a powerful connection, making it easier for them to find one another. It hadn’t been my intention to forge such a bond between Peyton and myself, but I couldn’t find it in me to care. “You’ll never get a chance to abuse it.”

“Never…say never.”

I didn’t respond. I had already let him use my time too much, and every second I stayed near him was an opportunity for him to get the upper hand again.

Back outside I held my bloody palm out for Sig’s approval. He nodded and shut the door.

“Your blood, as the choice was yours.” Without waiting for me to do it myself, Sig took my clean hand and drew a fang across my palm. His breath was shockingly hot, and I gasped before withdrawing my hand.

I wiped my fresh blood on the wooden door, which served the dual purpose of re-locking it and taking the first step of our ceremony.

Sig continued, pausing to lick a trace of my blood from his lips. “His blood, as he is the prisoner.”

I smeared the blood I’d taken from Peyton over my own on the door. The wood responded with a faint hiss.

“And her blood…” he angled his chin to Brigit, “…as her life is now the key to his freedom.”

Brigit, who had watched the steps in wide-eyed wonderment, now followed suit and bit her own thumb open, adding her blood to the mess on the door. The hissing grew louder, and a silvery-gray smoke curled out from under the layers of blood until all the red had vanished and the door was as smooth as ever.

“That’s it?” I asked.

“Did you say the magic words?” Sig asked.

“The…
magic words
?” I turned from the door and saw him smirking. “Oh you’re fucking hilarious.” I gave the door one last look, and for the hell of it added, “Abracadabra.” As far as magic words went, it was as good as it got.

Chapter Forty

How many supernatural creatures does it take to get a girl to her bachelorette party?

Two vampires, one sister of a werewolf and one New York City Police Department detective. Okay, so the last one might not be supernatural, but she
was
carrying a gun.

When Holden guided Brigit and me through the doors of New York’s
newest
new hot club, a place called Friction, I was glad I’d let the sentry pick my ensemble for the night. I was also glad to have accepted Sig’s offer to send some wardens to the club in advance. Just in case.

Once upon a time I would have shot the idea down before it was done being offered. Things changed. I couldn’t be so frivolous about my personal safety anymore. Not with the pack and the Tribunal depending on me.

Who would have thought I’d be instrumental to so many people’s well-being all at once?

I’d lived for myself and by myself for so long it was a big adjustment to make, not only to have people depend on me, but to let myself depend on others.

The club was packed full of girls wearing barely there dresses and men trying to get those girls out of said dresses. None of the men so much as cast me a second glance thanks to Brigit’s efforts in cleaning out the bridesmaid paraphernalia at the local gag shop. I was wearing a tiara that was festooned with fake diamonds, and had on a silver-and-pink sash that read
BRIDE
.

Brigit was wearing a blinking pink button proclaiming her a
Bridesmaid!
, but hers seemed more subtle somehow. I’d allowed the sash, tiara and a pink feather boa, but I drew the line at a penis cup. My dignity could handle a lot of low blows. Drinking cosmos out of a phallus-shaped sippy cup wasn’t one of them.

We met Mercedes and Kellen at a booth in the very back corner of the club, where I was finally able to relax. The black leather couches were crammed up against a solid brick wall, with a low ceiling overhead, which was the floor of the stairs to the second level, and our position provided us a great view of the whole dance floor as well as part of the upstairs bar area.

I let out a breath. This was the only place an assassin might feel comfortable in a jam-packed club. That is, if I ignored the stripper pole in the middle of the couch circle.

Kellen and Mercedes were both wearing blinking
Bridesmaid!
buttons, and each looked a little too happy about seeing me wrapped in pink feathers. It wasn’t until I flopped next to Kellen on the sofa that I realized there was someone else in our party.

Eugenia was sitting alone, wearing a dress that was a size too large and a few inches too short. She must have borrowed it from Kellen because the design screamed
look at me
, while the girl in it appeared to be hoping for quite the opposite.

“You never told me you had a
sister
,” Kellen shouted over the throbbing bass of the music.

“No one told me either until last week.” I gave Eugenia a quizzical look, and she smiled meekly.

“Callum sent me. He said it was important for family to be present at your wedding. I’m staying with Kellen.”

“Just you?”

“No, Ben too.”

“Who’s
Ben
?” Kellen asked, bubbling with excitement.

“My brother,” Eugenia and I said in unison. Eugenia continued, explaining, “He’s with Lucas at the penthouse.”

“You have a brother too?” Kellen gaped at me. Mercedes looked intrigued as well but must have thought better of asking questions in the middle of a packed nightclub.

“We’re twins.” Eugenia sipped the drink in front of her.

“How did you get in?” I pointed at the club. “And what’s in that?”

“I have a little pull,” Mercedes offered.

“And it’s 7UP,” Eugenia finished.

“For someone who’s only been a big sister for a week, you’ve already got the overprotective thing down pat.” Kellen laughed.

“I’m not even going to ask what’s in yours.”

“I’m over twenty-one,” she reminded me. “And
gin
.”

“God help us all.”

“Who said you could bring a boy?” Kellen pointed to Holden, who was still lurking around outside the booth.

“Holden’s making sure things stay fun.”

“Then make him
dance
for us.” Kellen got to her feet before I could stop her and grabbed Holden by his sleeve. “Are you going to dance for us, Holden?”

The vampire looked bewildered and amused. “I don’t get paid enough to dance.”

Kellen rifled through her glittery gold handbag and pulled out a roll of hundred dollar bills so thick I had to catch my breath. She peeled off at least ten and jammed them into his blazer’s front pocket, giving him an all-Benjamin pocket square. Once she’d put the roll of money back in her purse, she pointed to the stripper pole in our midst.

“Dance.”

I bit my lip to keep from laughing at him, but my trapped giggles bubbled over, causing me to snort.

“Secret, it’s your party. Make him do it.” Kellen was using her semi-drunken state and playing up her cuteness. I was betting this particular move went a long way with human men.

“Sorry, Kel. I need Holden’s attention out there.” I gave an apologetic shrug. “As much as I’d like to see him shake his ass, he has work to do.”

At
I’d like to see him shake his ass
, Holden raised two dark brows at me, his beautiful face showing faint surprise and a lot of dirty promises. I flushed.

I got up and moved to the seat across from Eugenia, and Kellen bounded off to get me my first of many drinks. During a brief lull between songs, I smiled at my sister and reached out to touch her hand. “I’m glad you’re here. I wish it wasn’t…” I rolled my eyes and jerked my chin in the direction of the dance floor. “You know. I wish we could talk.”

“There will be time.”

Kellen returned empty-handed but with a six-foot-five muscle-bound guy trailing behind her, his massive hands loaded with bottles.

“Bottle service!” Kellen cooed, cheers-ing herself. “This is Antoine.”

“Andy,” the guy corrected.

Kellen shrugged. “Andy is going to dance for us.”

The poor guy, whose skin was the color of a ripe pumpkin and who smelled faintly musky, a mixture of sweat and cologne, paled slightly at her words.

“I don’t—”

Holden extracted the wad of hundreds from his pocket and didn’t bat a lash as he slipped them into Andy’s palm. “Give them what they want. Especially the fox in the boa.” He winked at me for good measure before melting into the crowd.

As it turned out, in spite of his protestations, Andy was a bit of a pro when it came to working the stripper pole. And—much to my mortification—was apparently no stranger to giving lap dances. No amount of Patrón could wipe away the memory of a shirtless beefcake wearing my former boa while grinding his very firm butt into my lap.

He was preparing himself for round two when I saw my moment to escape.

“Sorry, ladies, nature calls.”

Before anyone could offer to be my plus one to the bathroom, I darted from the booth and skirted the dancing twenty-somethings who were too busy grinding against each other to pay any attention to me. Beyoncé was singing “Countdown”, and in spite of the catchy beat and the booze pulsing through me, I found myself uninterested in making merry.

I was almost halfway across the room when a finger hooked through the woven straps of my dress and yanked me backwards into a small alcove that led to a door marked
Staff
.

Only the familiar scent and the coolness of the digit pressed to my spine kept me from punching him, but knowing who it was didn’t stop me from spinning out of his grip and slamming him against the wall, my hand wrapped around his throat.

“You should know better than to sneak up on women who are being hunted.”

Holden smiled and pried my hand off his neck one finger at a time. “Then shouldn’t you know better than to sneak off unprotected into a crowd?”

“Clearly
someone
had their eyes on me.”

His fingers landed on my shoulders, as if to push me away from him, but instead he ran them with painstaking slowness down my arms, making me shiver in a not-unpleasant way.

“I’m the only one watching you now.”

A breath caught in my throat, making a squeaking sound when I opened my mouth to speak. “I-I should get back.”

“The line is long.”

“What?”

“At the bathroom. We have time.”

His hands came to rest on my waist. He pushed himself off the wall and continued the forwards motion until he had me backed up against the opposite wall and he was pressed against me. My heart was hammering and my eyes couldn’t quite focus on his. I kept getting distracted by the fullness of his mouth.

“I should…”

Holden lowered his mouth to my ear and forced out a breath, making me shudder. His lower lip rubbed against my earlobe when he said, “You made me a promise, Secret.”

I didn’t want to respond physically, but when he whispered the words, a primal heat stabbed at me and I arched against him. “I did.”

His hands moved from my waist and to the small of my back, and our bodies were so close I could feel the heat from my body seeping into his. His soft lips grazed my neck, and I let out a whimper.

“You’re running out of time to make good on it.” His tongue darted out, flicking against the pulse held captive under his mouth.

“I don’t think…”

“Don’t think,” he instructed. “Stop thinking. You want this.” He lowered his lips again, this time to my mouth, and when he kissed me, I wanted to stop time. The bass thump pounded through us, making my skin hum, and when his tongue curled against mine, I had to kiss him back. My whole being insisted on it. His fingers dug into my spine, winding their way through the folds of satin to touch bare skin.

When one of his hands found the tie at the base of my neck, the one that would undo the whole dress, I broke from the kiss and held his head back, my fingers buried in his dark hair. I knew if I let him kiss me again, I wouldn’t be able to force myself to stop. He tasted too good.

I felt dizzy, and it wasn’t from the booze. The tequila haze had already begun to fade, leaving an aftertaste in my mouth that had me craving limes.