Bastard
.
“Buyers love the newbies, and they’re not easy to come by,” he shrugged. “They don’t pay as much when you baby them, so I have to be rough.”
I grabbed the whip from his hand and threw it across the room. “You could have at least told me what you were!”
“Would it have made a difference? You’re not going to find answers out there,” he said, motioning towards the door. “Those men will eat you alive. I’m not a bad guy… just a man who sees an opportunity.”
“You should have asked if I wanted to be part of your sales. That makes a difference. I don’t like being deceived.”
“If you offer me something better, I’ll hold to the deal.”
“Like what?” I folded my arms.
“Memories. I don’t want your first birthday, or skydiving experience. This is a club with specific tastes, so the darker the memory, the higher the bid.”
Dark memories were something I owned in abundance. “I had an abusive ex.”
Eli laughed. “So does every whore on the street corner. Get more creative.”
I swallowed. “I have something. How do I know you’ll give me the answers I want?”
“I have to touch you to take the emotion. Go ahead and think about the memory; I’ll feel your energy and decide how much information I’m willing to trade,” he said, lacking enthusiasm. Clearly, he thought the whipping was more valuable.
I thought about the night that changed my life, when Samil brutally turned me into a Mage. Eli held his hands in front of my chest and tuned out, as if he were under hypnosis. His eyes fluttered and snapped open. “We’ll trade,” he nodded.
“How much will you tell me?”
“It’s an emotion that’s hard to sell, but I can find a buyer. I’ll give you three more questions.” He tucked his hands in his pockets and waited.
“Is he plotting a war?”
There was hesitation, as if uncertain. “Yes, but I don’t know the details. No one does.”
“How many is he holding against their will?”
“Nine that I know of, but there could be more.”
“When will he be in here again?”
“Next Friday.”
Eli lowered his chin and stepped forward. “Time to pay up.” His fingers spread out across my chest. “All you have to do is think about the memory. Relive it in your mind. It doesn’t matter how old it is because I can pull emotions to the surface that have been buried a long time.”
I looked at him anxiously, as I didn’t know how ready I was to dig up a graveyard of pain. I thought about crossing the field and falling to the ground. I still saw it vividly in my head, and while it was always swirled with shades of hate for Samil, Eli was extracting feelings that burned my senses. I glanced at the soft red glow beneath his hands. When a Mage transferred energy, the light was clean and blue, but for a Sensor, it was just the opposite. It scared me.
The light intensified, and the cruelty of the struggle overcame me. Tears welled at the corners of my eyes, and I turned my head.
“Finish it,” he said. “All the way.”
When I did, I balled my hands into fists. I felt like hitting something, because a Sensor had a talent for breathing life into emotions that had faded with time. Eli brushed his hands over my shoulders and dropped them to his side. “I can take it away, you know.”
“Take what away?”
“The pain. I can’t remove the memory, but I can permanently remove the emotions. Do you want that? It’ll cost extra, and I’ll take a favor.”
Meaning I’d be in his debt, at his disposal, to collect in any way he saw fit. Was a clean slate on a terrible memory worth it? My question was answered when I realized that without suffering, I wouldn’t be who I am now. Blacksmiths hammer metal in order to change its shape and make it stronger. I would never grow from experience unless I felt the impact of it.
“No, our trade is complete,” I said decidedly. “That memory makes me who I am."
I picked up my purse from the floor and left Hell in complete disgust.
Chapter 23
With two hours left to kill before Justus picked me up in his sex-mobile, I sat on the steps of Logan’s condo and shook my hair free from the ponytail.
Immortality hardened me in ways I least expected. The emotions Eli took still lingered like an unwanted fragrance, but it was worth the trade. I not only had an inside source, but an opportunity to confront Nero. However, Eli still might be able to provide more information.
Jesus, was I really considering this?
A moth landed on my skirt, and I stroked its dusty wings.
“I’d love to say that I’m pleasantly surprised to see you, except that you’re unsupervised, and under the impression that I’m out for the night.”
Shit.
“I thought you were with your brothers.”
“That’s exactly my point.”
Logan twisted his sneaker on the ground as if he was putting out a cigarette when in reality—he was annoyed. Whatever he did tonight, it was casual by the look of his jeans and pale yellow cotton shirt.
“Why do I smell blood?”
“I went to a bar and there was a fight. You know—Mage drama,” I said indifferently.
Logan sat beside me and I looked down at his soft brown sneakers.
“You look pretty in that skirt, Miss Silver.”
“Why thank you, Mr. Cross.” The little moth fluttered away and I wiped the dust from the dark fabric. “What happened tonight with your dad? You’re home early.”
“Chitah drama,” Logan grumbled, leaning on his elbows. “Levi’s date insulted our father and all hell broke loose when Leo jumped him.”
“Whose side did Levi take?”
“Ours, of course. Much to the surprise of his boyfriend.” Logan smiled and turned a sharp glance my way. “Come inside and we’ll talk.”
I hissed when he placed his hand across my back.
Logan sprang to his feet and knelt before me, holding my face in his hands. There was no talking, because he was picking up every detail with his nose. He looked me straight in the eye—deep—as if he were collecting thoughts. I remembered why I once feared him as his incisors gleamed from the porch light.
Pulling away from him was an exercise in futility. Logan leaned in, lifted a handful of my hair to his nose, and took a deep breath.
“Tell me what happened, or I will hunt down the male scent that is mingled with
your
blood.”
He was serious as he stood up and his lip twitched.
“Logan, wait! Don’t. I’ll explain everything inside.”
***
Logan wasn’t kidding when he said he was a minimalist. His condo—with beautiful redwood flooring and sage green walls—was a shell of a life. Two green chairs and a sleeper sofa sat blankly in the living room. He owned no pictures, mirrors, or curtains. As we passed the kitchen, I imagined him eating alone at the island in the center of the room. It had one place setting on the black granite countertop.
“Take off your shirt,” he said.
“I don’t think so.”
He moved closer. “I want it off.”
Without waiting for an answer, Logan lifted the delicate straps from my shoulders. I said nothing as he peeled the shirt away and let it slide to my ankles. He rose back up, but kept his eyes centered on mine like an unspoken promise. A finger twirled, instructing me to turn around.
“Lie on the bed.”
I dropped to my knees and crawled over the bed, lying on my stomach as Logan ran water in a nearby bathroom. The sheets were cold, and his room smelled of vanilla and earth. The bed moved as he straddled me, wiping the wet towel against the heated wound.
“I need to remove this,” he said. I heard the tiny click of latches as Logan unfastened the bra.
“I didn’t know what kind of club it was.”
“Heal first. Talk later.”
“I can’t heal until morning,” I said, refusing to take light from him. It was a necessity the first time—more about clearing his debt—but a scratch could wait.
“This is going to feel strange, but it won’t hurt.”
My brows knitted and before I could jerk my head around, a warm tongue glided across my skin.
“What are you doing?” I said, almost knocking him off balance.
“Something I would have rather done under different circumstances. Now be still, little bird, and let me heal your wounds.”
The sting I really felt was pride as I let him heal me in a way that was unique to a Chitah. Vulnerability wasn’t an emotion I warmed up to, and that’s exactly how I felt beneath him. His tongue changed direction, swirling and tracing over the wound as the magic in his saliva numbed the pain. I’m not going to lie; I liked it. I snorted against the covers when I thought of Justus asking me how we spent our evening.
“All done,” he said.
I gasped when he fell on top of me and spoke softly against the back of my neck. “Any other places that I need to lick?” he asked, brushing his lips over my skin. “I like to be thorough, so let me know if I missed a spot.”
I squirmed.
Logan chuckled and sat up. “Explain why I’m spending my evening licking your wounds?”
Despite the flirtation, everything about his tone showed agitation.
“I went to Hell tonight and met a man who gave me information on Nero.”
“Obviously at a price. Why would you do this kind of trading?”
“Simon said people barter all the time. I got the information I wanted, and I don’t regret it.”
“Was it worth your blood?”
“Pain is incidental. I’m a Mage. I heal.”
“You’re a Mage. You heal!” he parroted.
I narrowed my eyes at his mocking tone as he tugged at my bra and secured the latches.
“Here,” he said. “Put this on.”
“I only let him do it once.”
A minute passed before he said anything. He wrung his hands and paced the floor, making me nervous.
“I feel very… protective of you, Silver. I’m not going to judge your actions because your strength is what attracts me, but do you think I can turn a blind eye to a man who
whipped
a female? Consensual or not, it goes against my very nature, and I would tear him apart.”
I decided to leave out the little tidbit that Eli was a Sensor.
“Justus can’t find out about this. He would forbid me from seeing you, and might never trust me again. Tonight, we went on a date, and I spilled wine on my blouse. He’ll believe that because I’m clumsy with my drinks.”
“I’ll agree on a single condition.”
I sighed. “Name it.”
“Include me in whatever you’re scheming. Otherwise, it’s a deal breaker and I’ll spill the beans to your Ghuardian, even if that means you go on lockdown.”
I considered if Logan would be a detriment to my plans. I couldn’t think of a reason, so I shrugged in agreement.
Logan crouched down and took a seat on the mattress, lifting me onto his lap. It was effortless, as if he had held me a million times before.
“You’re going to be a tough one to handle, but learn to trust me. I refuse to tame your independent nature, but know that I would have taken the lashings
for
you. I will prove myself a worthy male to you one day.”
“It’s a good thing you like to wear sneakers, Mr. Cross.”
His lips pressed a tender kiss on my ear, and I sighed against his skin. The sound that poured from him was primal. It rumbled so deep that it reminded me of distant thunder.
“I love the sound your body makes,” I spoke softly, looking at his chest. “You don’t have any tattoos?”
“Uh… no.” He sounded surprised at the question and tilted his head to look at me. “What about you?”
“Just my Creator’s mark.”
“I don’t like that another male has marked you.”
I looked up and smiled when I saw his lips were two thin lines. “Every Mage has a mark. I’m sure you know that.” I traced the curve of muscle in his arm. “Do you have any scars?”
“We all have scars,” he said thoughtfully.
Logan encased me in his arms, and the heat smoldered from him like the fire in the cave where he once held me captive.
“I’m a little offended you lied about being on a date with me, so I’m taking you out next Friday.”
“I can’t, I’m busy that night.”
When he huffed, I smiled, feeling struck by his jealousy. I may have been undecided about where things were going with Logan, but I knew I liked the way he touched me, and the way he spoke of me.