Touch If You Dare (10 page)

“Oh, I won’t. I’m immortal,” Augustus said. “How do I find a deedub?”

Reina misted. She reformed right behind him, unleashed the powder at him—

He whirled around, whipped his hand into his pocket, then thrust the pink star at her neck. She had no time to duck—

A sword whipped past her face and then the star clanged against the flat of Jarvis’s blade where it was guarding her jugular.

The star bounced off and landed in the dirt with a hollow thud.

“Jarvis!” Disbelief and elation rushed through her. Not only had Jarvis revived from a deadly pink star attack, but he’d actually come to rescue her. “Thanks—” Her relief died as Jarvis stepped up beside her and she looked into his eyes.

They were solid black, haunted and deadly. She was looking into the soul of the monster she’d always known was there. Only now, it had come out to play.

***

Jarvis shoved Reina behind him as Augustus went for his second star. Her defender moved so fast she didn’t even see his hand move, but suddenly Jarvis’s sword was hilt deep in Augustus’s chest.

Well, that was probably a good plan for stopping a lethal assault. Who needs impotent death powder when there are long, sharp implements around?

Yes, Jarvis had monster eyes, but he’d turned them against her assailant, not her. Trouble, tormented, but somehow, in those depths, finding a place to protect her? No one ever protected her. She was always trying to keep others safe and failing miserably. To have him jump and take some of the pressure off… her chest tightened. It was a gift. She’d never touched him on purpose before, never dared to reach out. But suddenly she didn’t feel so afraid of him. She wanted to connect to that part of him that had cradled her face and saved her life. So, she reached out to touch his arm—

Jarvis moved out of her reach before she could make contract. Disappointment and embarrassment flooded her cheeks, and she jerked her hand back. Had he moved on purpose? But when she looked at him, he was focused on Augustus, and she got no answers from his expression.

“Bugger that!” Augustus clutched his chest as he staggered backwards. “How in the name of all that’s deviant and miserable did I not see you recover?”

“You were cocky.” Jarvis’s voice was hard. Brewing with some very scary stuff, which was fantastic. Scary stuff was needed when taking on Augustus, and she hadn’t exactly figured out how to corner that market. “That kind of shit doesn’t work on me very well.” Jarvis jerked his sword out of Augustus’s rib cage, streaks of blood on the blade.

Reina stared at the blade, her stomach turning at the evidence of death and violence, the world her boss was trying to force her into. Stabbing people was different than handing out confetti when a soul was finally freed from the constraints of their physical body. It wasn’t her thing. Really wasn’t.

Jarvis wiped the blade on his jeans with a casualness that spoke of an utter lack of concern for violence and killing. He simply wasn’t bothered by it, and she clung to his ease, got comfort from it. Maybe it wasn’t such a big deal, this whole killing thing. Maybe it would all be okay. Maybe?

Augustus peered at his body as his torso turned gray and streaks of black began racing up his throat toward his head. “Good Lord, man, what do you have in that thing?”

“Hate.” Jarvis’s response was matter-of-fact, but his grip tightened on his sword, almost imperceptibly.

Reina was startled by his response. What kind of answer was that? Yes, sure, he was all tormented and stuff, no doubt, but
hate
? That didn’t make any sense. Not for him. Not for a man who’d pulled himself out of a pink-star-stupor to save a woman he barely knew.

“Hate?” Augustus stomped his foot in fury. “Like I need hate in my life right now! I’m trying to find my passion and love again. What kind of a bastard are you?”

“The worst kind.” Jarvis pressed the sword against the assassin’s throat. “You have two seconds to get away from Reina, or you’re toast.”

Something jumped in Reina’s heart at his threatening tone. He was protecting her. Really and truly. Not just saving her life, because maybe any warrior would feel the need to stop a woman from being killed. Right now, there was no overt threat from the debilitated assassin, but Jarvis was still pushing him back, defending her space as if he had taken her safety on as a personal mission.

No one ever stood between her and harm. It felt weird… and marvelous. Like this cool breeze rippling over her skin, clearing a humid, oppressive weight from her body after a lifetime of living beneath the smog. Instinctively, without even thinking it, she touched his back in silent thanks, and this time she made contact.

His muscles were taut, and his body pulsed with energy and heat. The connection rippled down her arm, and she felt a sense of rightness, of absolute perfection in that moment.

Jarvis glanced over at her, his eyebrows nearly shooting off his forehead in surprise. At being touched? Did no one ever reach out to him? That was so sad.

But he didn’t move away, and her hand continued to rest on his back, a silent connection between them.

“You can’t kill me,” Augustus proclaimed, pulling his shoulders back, as if he wasn’t turning into a piece of wrinkled black licorice.

“No?” Jarvis cut off one of Augustus’s chin hairs with a flick of his wrist. “You sure about that?”

Blackened lines were spilling into Augustus’s palms. The wrinkled angel of death was as immortal as they got, and one strike with Jarvis’s sword had poisoned him. Exactly how dangerous
was
Jarvis? Slowly, she pulled her hand away from his back.

“Back off,” Jarvis said quietly to the assassin. “And I mean it.”

“Oh, fine. I’ll be back when I’m recovered.” Augustus snapped his fingers, and his chariot landed beside him, the six winged horses as majestic as ever. “I’ll get her when you’re not around.”

Jarvis smiled with what could only be called macabre pleasure. Chills ran down her spine. “Then I’ll have to be around,” he said.

“She has to sleep.” Augustus climbed into his ornately carved black and gold carriage.

“I’ll sleep with her.”

Um, hello? The residual tingling of the Godfather Effect was too recent for that kind of remark. She took a step back, suddenly wanting space. It was too much, the decadent fantasies she’d had of him combined with the lethal and deadly vibes he was sending out.

“She has to shower.” Augustus grinned. “Somehow I think our little warrior woman will remove your testicles before she’d let you in there with her.”

Both men turned to look at her, and she felt her cheeks heat up in denial. “I’m not an ice princess,” she snapped, suddenly feeling embarrassed that Jarvis might think that she was.

Not that she cared what he thought about her sexually, but at the same time, she couldn’t help wanting to make it clear that she wasn’t defective. Yeah, okay, maybe she hadn’t dated since that miserable bastard had ditched her in a brutal move that eviscerated her soul due to her phobia of having those she loved leave her. But that didn’t mean she would never put herself out there again. She was just busy right now, you know, saving her sister and all. Someday, co-ed showers would be a part of her life again. Just not
now
, and not with a man who was so dark and dangerous that he would be the very, very last one to trust to stick around if she happened to get too emotionally dependent on him.

Jarvis shrugged. “I’ll take my chances on the shower.” His words were slow and drawn out, and there was no mistaking the thoughtfulness in his expression.

She swallowed, her throat suddenly tight. The way he was looking at her made it very clear he was looking at her as a woman, visualizing her naked with water streaming over her breasts and down her hips and to other more interesting parts of her body. Her skin felt hot, and he kept staring at her, making her feel even warmer.

Jarvis’s mind was clearly in the gutter now, and the thought of it made all sorts of sweet nothings run through her body. Damn the Godfather for getting her all worked up. Jarvis was not the kind of man a girl with intelligence, important plans, and a well-developed sense of self-preservation fantasized about. He was not the man to come out of retirement for, and certainly not at this pivotal time in her life. She needed to focus, get her job done, and
then
think about being a woman.

“I’m going to go heal this paltry insult, and then I’ll come back and kill you all,” Augustus said, jerking her attention back to the enormity of the problems in her life right now. The sexual high vanished, replaced by the cold tendrils of fear digging into her stomach.

Augustus climbed into his carriage. “Except for you, my dear,” he said to Natalie. “I’ll give you massive amounts of money for two hours of your time. Call me. We’ll do tea.” He doffed his hat at Natalie and cracked his whip, then the vehicle leapt into the air and disappeared into the horizon.

She stared at the spot where it had disappeared, halfway dreading that it would reappear. That there would be no respite.

“Interesting son of a bitch.” Jarvis sheathed his sword, pulling her attention back to the present.

Jarvis was taking himself off the offensive. The threat was over. Augustus was really gone for the moment, thanks to Jarvis, a man she never thought she’d be indebted to for doing something nice for her. She started to thank him, and the words died when she saw his hard expression. It was her first good look at him since he’d swooped in on his devil broom and… yikes. On many different levels.

His blue eyes were darker than she’d ever seen them, and the air around him was rippling, as if he was burning with heat. His leather jacket was bunching over his shoulders, and his jeans were hanging low on his hips. His sword was jammed in a scabbard on his back.

She hadn’t seen him in several weeks, but he looked so much more tortured and dangerous than last time. He was studying her intently, like a panther about to pin her to the floor and end any freedom of a choice she thought she had. Her stomach tightened with the sudden urge to flee for her life, her sanity, and her womanly virtue.

“Jarvis!” Nigel jogged up. “You okay, man?” He stopped a careful distance away, as if he didn’t want to get too close. Resignation tightened Jarvis’s features, a recognition that his own friend, an immortal warrior who was unkillable, wouldn’t risk getting near him.

For a moment, her heart shifted with unexpected sadness for him. For her, there was nothing more terrifying than the prospect of winding up alone in this world, and there Jarvis stood. Alone. Even while standing beside friends.

“Reina.” Natalie touched her arm.

She was surprised by the look of sanity on Natalie’s face. “You’re better?”

“A little. When Jarvis stabbed Augustus, all my hate for the deedub who bit me jerked me out of my happy place.”

Jarvis was watching Natalie with an impassive expression, but his eyes were turbulent with regret. Hate was really his internal demon? That made no sense. Jarvis was scary, dangerous, and aloof, but hateful? Never. No man who lived on hate had the loyal friends he did, or stood up for women he had no reason to protect. Jarvis wasn’t hate, no matter what he claimed.

“I can already feel myself getting more relaxed,” Natalie said, “so I think I’m going to be going back to my lala land soon. Before I do, we need to talk.”

“Oh, Nat—”

“Here’s the deal. I don’t want you to die. Seeing you like that, almost dead, scared me.” Tears filled Natalie’s eyes. “If you get yourself killed trying to save me, when I’m going to die anyway, well, what’s the sense in that?”

“You’re not going to die—”

“I am! No one survives a deedub attack. I’ve been going along with your rescue attempt because I was terrified, and because I wanted to give us both hope, but if you could feel the intensity of the power building within me…” Natalie flexed her hands, and muscles rippled in her forearms. “There’s no stopping it, Reina.”

“We have to try—”

“No!” Natalie shouted her denial and slammed her hand over Reina’s mouth. “Stop talking, and listen to me! I don’t have much time!”

Reina nodded once, regret heavy in her heart as her sister began to slip away again. The real Natalie was gentle and soft-spoken. Warm. Not this muscle-bound tough girl.

“You’re supposed to kill Augustus to save me, right?” Natalie took her hand away, allowing Reina to answer. “So, let’s see. How well did that go?”

Reina shifted, aware that Jarvis and Nigel were listening. Was there a need for the warriors to know exactly how inadequate she was? “I wasn’t ready. Next time I’ll kill him—”

“You won’t! You’ll wind up in a thousand pieces on his therapist’s coffee table! And even if you don’t, how are you going to find investors willing to pay three billion dollars for an assassination by Friday? And you have to find the victims too? All that, just to have the
chance
to save me? You really think that’s going to work?”

Jarvis tapped his sword against his boot, and she jumped at the thwack. On edge, much? “Well, yes—”