Charlie grinned at the swearing coming from the back. “Man, she can string words together.”
Chalton nodded. “Wait until she really gets going.” He shut the door and headed back toward the furious woman. “The plane ride won’t be long, and the copilot will come out and cut your binding after reaching cruising altitude.”
She stopped swearing and looked up at him, her eyes the green of fury. “You’re not coming with me?”
His chest warmed. Even though she was pissed, did she want him with her? “I have something else to do here, but then I’ll meet you. I promise.”
Her glare turned even darker. “I hope you get hit by a bus.”
All right, so she didn’t want him with her. “I’ll try.” Indulging himself and knowing she’d probably bite him, he leaned down and pressed his mouth against hers. When she didn’t bite, he moved, finally kissing her.
Fire lanced through him and landed in his gut. She kept still and then slowly, tentatively kissed him back. He kept the pressure light and gentle, when all he really wanted to do was push her back and go as deep as they both could take it.
Finally, he lifted his head. Her eyes had softened to the color of a spring meadow, and her lips pursed in a thoughtful O.
She leaned toward him, her gaze on his. “I’m probably going to kill you,” she whispered, temper still in her tone.
He grinned. The woman had made him smile more in the last several hours than he had in many years. “Thanks for the fair warning. Here’s one back. Every time you swear at me, every time you physically attack me, and definitely every time you try to kill me...I’m going to kiss you until you stop.”
Her lip curled. “Then I’ll just have to succeed with the kill.”
Smart and spirited. “I look forward to it.” Whistling, he turned on his heel and exited the plane.
A ruckus sounded from inside, and he turned just as Charlie leaned out to shut the door. “She kicked me,” Charlie complained, rubbing his shin.
“She does that.” Chalton chuckled and slid inside the car. It was time for a family reunion.
Igor’s smelled the same. Leather, pipe smoke, tobacco, and varnish. Different vodkas took up the shelves, and men sat around in booths or at the bar drinking. No dart boards, no pool tables, no video games. It was a bar, and bars were for drinking.
Chalton made his way to a booth at the back, not surprised to find his brother waiting. “You shot at me,” he said mildly, pressing into the booth.
“I didn’t hit you,” Jared returned, pushing a shot of vodka from the home world his way. “I almost hit you in the leg just for fun, but I thought it might freak out the woman too much.”
Chalton took the drink and downed it, enjoying the warmth spreading right to his gut. It had been over a hundred years since he’d drank with his brother, yet the moment felt like home. Was it home? He should’ve tried to mend fences before now, but he had struggled for so long to find himself again that he hadn’t reached out. Then it became odd to reach out. “Who hired you?”
“Right to business, is it?” His brother’s dark eyes glimmered in the dim light. He’d cut his long dark hair shorter so it just reached his nape, and he’d filled out even more in the century or so they’d been apart. “Your hair is long.”
“Yours is shorter than normal.” Even though they sat only a couple of feet from each other, the chasm felt much bigger. Grand Canyon big. Chalton reached for the bottle to pour two more shots, wanting so badly to return to normal. “No longer trying to be a pirate?”
Jared sighed. “The high seas aren’t what they used to be, unfortunately.”
Chalton shook his head. “I’m sure you’ve found many ways to rob people without a ship and dangerous weather.” For years, his oldest brother had been a feared pirate on the open seas, even after the seas were somewhat tamed. Truth be told, Chalton had always liked that part of Jared. Admired it, even. “Now you’re taking contracts for innocent women?”
“As are you,” Jared returned, reaching for his glass. “Please tell me you’re not playing the conscious here...we both know your former occupation.”
“I was a soldier,” Chalton said, defensiveness rising up in him.
“An assassin for the Realm,” Jared said softly.
This time the liquid didn’t burn quite as much. “I did my job, and I had a purpose.”
Jared drank down the shot. “Being a pirate had a purpose, too. Damn, I miss those days.”
Even without the long hair, Jared looked dangerous enough to be a pirate. Square jaw, broad shoulders, fighting shape. But beyond that, a wildness lived in him and always had. He’d never tried to force Chalton into his escapades, somehow understanding Chalton’s need for something more than adventure.
“Those days will come back somehow and someday,” Chalton said. Maybe with hovercraft or something goofy like that.
“I hope so.”
“Was that Theo with you when you tried to shoot me?” Chalton asked. Had both of his brothers held him in a scope on the same day?
“Nope. Haven’t talked to him since the last day I talked to you.” Jared poured more vodka.
What a shitty day that was. They buried their father, had an immeasurable amount of alcohol, and had ended up battering each other bloody, saying things that never should’ve been said. Things none of them probably even meant. “So you haven’t seen him in a century, either?”
“Nope.” Jared glanced sideways. “You haven’t talked to him?”
“No.” Chalton scratched his neck. “I, ah, am sorry about the fight. It wasn’t any of our faults that our father died.”
Jared gazed at the smooth wooden table. “I should’ve been with him when he sought out Peter Libscombe.”
“We both should’ve, but he didn’t let us know.” Instead, when their father went to challenge Peter Libscombe over a land dispute dealing with several mountain ranges, he’d taken his brother. “Uncle Jack should’ve called us.”
“Maybe. Neither one of us would’ve asked for help, either.” Jared kicked back in the booth. “Uncle Jack killed Peter Libscombe and survived that battle but died in the Kurjan war.”
Chalton blinked. “Hell, that’s true.” His mother had let him know, but he’d been in the middle of planning Realm strategy during the war and hadn’t reached out to his brothers...yet again. “That makes you the patriarch of the family.” He chuckled, unable to help himself.
“Sounds all official and grown up, right?” Jared shook his head. “Mom’s on me to find a mate and give her grandkids.”
“Well, you are four centuries old.” That was still young as far as Chalton was concerned.
“You’re three.” Jared played idly with his shot glass.
Yeah, and he had a job to do. “Were you hired to kill Olivia, Jared?”
“No.” Jared poured more drinks. “I was hired to capture her and get her to give up her source for the story about vampires existing. The gun was because I knew somebody was following her but didn’t know it was you or the humans in the van.”
“Who hired you?”
“Private group out of Monaco. Wealthy group of vampires with a small power base. Don’t align with the Realm but don’t oppose your people, either. They just want the magazine articles stopped before humans start believing it.”
Chalton nodded. All immortal species vowed to keep their existence a secret. If humans knew immortality was possible, they’d never stop trying to obtain it. War with humans would be disastrous because humans would lose. Vampires were male only, and since so many human females eventually became vampire mates, the risk in losing too many of them was unacceptable. Enhanced human females, those with extra gifts like psychic or empathic abilities, could mate a vampire, shifter, demon, or witch.
He cleared his throat. “I’ve locked the woman down and will discover and take care of her source.”
Jared eyed him. “Oh, will you?”
“Yes.”
“She’s a looker, isn??
?t she?”
Chalton leaned back. “She’s stunning.” He twirled his glass in his hands. “And enhanced.”
Jared’s eyebrows shot up. “Enhanced? You thinking of settling down?”
“No.” But if he were, it’d be with a sexy, curvy, brilliant smartass of a woman. Like Olivia. “Not anytime soon.”
“Me either.” Jared tipped over the empty vodka bottle. “So you’re not claiming the woman.”
“No.” Heat spiraled through Chalton, and his focus narrowed. “Are you?”
“No.” Jared grinned. “We’re at a standstill then.”
Chalton’s shoulders went back. “I don’t see how. I have the woman.”
“Where is she?”
Now he chuckled. “I’m not telling.”
“Well, then. I guess I’ll have to change your mind.” Faster than ever, Jared shot out the first punch.
Chalton’s cheek exploded in pain, and his head jerked back. Anticipation roared through him, and he plowed a fist into his brother’s nose.
It was on.
CHAPTER FIVE
Two hours. Two whole hours. Olivia had sat in the chilly private airplane hangar, cuffed to a metal chair, for two hours. The pilots were in an office, doing a bunch of stuff with maps and ignoring her.
She’d kill them.
Once she got free, and she would, she’d end them. Somehow. Okay, she didn’t know how, but she’d come up with a plan. Or run. Yeah, that was it. She’d just run and call the police. Much better plan.
A loud whir echoed, and the massive hangar door opened. A jet, this one a little smaller than the one that had flown her there, rolled in. The engines cut, the door opened, and Chalton jogged down the stairs.
She gasped. Cuts and bruises marred his skin, while rips showed throughout his bloody clothing. “What happened to you?”
“Family reunion.” He reached her in long strides. “Charlie?” he called out.
The pilot with reddish-blond hair stepped out of the office and lobbed a small key toward Chalton. “Have fun.”
Olivia should’ve kicked him a few more times. She hissed, and he quickly dodged back inside the office.
“Easy,” Chalton said, unlocking her cuffs. “We’re in a quiet part of the very private airport, and nobody else is around. I have a car right outside, and you can choose to walk or go over my shoulder again.” Then he stepped back and crossed his arms.
She leaned to look around him at two men transferring items quickly from the plane to outside. Hey. That was her suitcase. “You brought my belongings.”
“Yes. I had them collected while I dealt with my brother. He won’t harass you again.” Chalton fingered a bruise under his left eye.
She jumped to her feet. “Oh my God. You killed your brother.”
Chalton blinked, studied her, and then threw back his head and laughed. Finally, he coughed. “I did not kill Jared. We got in a fight, I knocked him out, and then I came here. He has no clue where you are, so he’ll back off now. So long as our missions are the same, which they are.”
She planted both hands on her hips. “Meaning making my articles disappear.”
“Yes.” He towered over her without even meaning to do so. “Walk or ride, baby. Make a decision because night is falling, and I’d like to get cleaned up.”
It was beyond tempting to kick him again and fight, but she wouldn’t win. And everybody else around there worked for him and certainly wouldn’t jump in on her behalf. Even so, pride mattered. She just couldn’t help it. She leaped up, punched him in the gut, turned, and ran around him.
Well, she tried to run around him.
He halted her with one arm banded around her forearm. “Jesus, Livy.” Jerking her around, he ducked, and once again she found herself face down over his shoulder.
How did he do that? It wasn’t like she was a hundred pound yoga instructor. Yet the guy slid into motion, easily striding across the hangar for the outside like she wasn’t flopping over his shoulder like a flounder. “Let me go,” she ground out, trying not to shake out her aching fist. His stomach was harder than a boulder she’d tripped over at the lake last summer.
Cool air brushed across her legs as they exited the hangar, the world tilted, and she found herself in the front seat of a dark SUV. Chalton leaned over her, his handsome face within an inch of hers, snow dotting his hair. “Do I need to tie you to the seat?”
Heat and male...so damn much heat and male. Her gaze dropped to his lips, and swear to God, everything inside her turned mushy. How could this be happening? No way, no way, was she attracted to a kidnapper. “Stockholm syndrome,” she murmured.
He smiled, those gorgeous lips moving. “Keep telling yourself that.”
Her gaze slashed up to his to see those dark eyes sparkling with humor and so much more. Desire? Want? Heat? She drew herself up—finally. “I am not attracted to you.”
“Liar.” A very slight dimple winked in his left cheek. “You really do blurt out the first thing in your head, don’t you?”
Unfortunately. “I’m a little off, so give me a break.” Geez. It wasn’t every day a girl got shot at, kidnapped, and kissed in a way that only happened in romance novels.
“Livy, you’re not afraid of me, and you know it. Instincts and all that.” Smoother than glass, he reached around and secured her seatbelt around her.
She crossed her arms. Truth be told, she wasn’t feeling afraid of him. He had saved her, and if he’d wanted her dead, he wouldn’t have transported her a couple hours away in a very nice jet. Even so, being kidnapped had to involve some danger, right? “You and I are not on the same side.” It was all she could think of to say.
He leaned back, his lips still curved. “Maybe not today, but if I’ve learned anything in my long life, it’s that alliances shift quicker than an eye blinks.”
His long life. Right. “What are you? Maybe thirty...two?”
He laughed. “You have to be getting hungry. I’ll feed you the second we get to the ranch.” Without waiting for an answer, he shut the door and crossed to jump into the driver’s seat. The Jeep ignited with a low hum, and they sped out of the deserted tarmac.
She glanced around for some type of weapon, her mind spinning. Soon fields lined the way...and then cornfields? “Are you kidding me? Where are we?”
“Iowa.” His hands rested easily on the steering wheel, in perfect control. “We have a safe house here.”
“Who are ‘we’?”
He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”
The hell it didn’t. Night began to fall, turning the leaves of the fields ominous and so dark. Freaky, monsters are inside here, dark. She shivered.
He glanced her way. “What?”
“Cornfields. Creepy. Big monsters.”
“Quite the imagination you have there. I obviously have been neglecting this place too much since the stalks are still up, even without corn. Why don’t you write fiction instead of pseudo-facts?”
She chose to ignore the pseudo part. “I like facts and telling a story. Informing people instead of just entertaining them.” Although someday she would like to pen a novel—maybe a journalistic thriller or something like that. “You can’t tell me the snowy cornfields at night aren’t a little freaky.”
“Not a bit.” He rolled his neck.
Figured. The guy didn’t seem scared of much.
A farmhouse in the middle of an Iowa corn farm? “Who in the world are you?” she muttered, staring uneasily out the window.
“Somebody trying to save your life,” he said just as quietly.
“I don’t need you to save my life.” Once she’d published the last article, the truth would be out there, so she’d be perfectly safe. “Why don’t you just tell me the truth? How much do you know about the species with thirty chromosomal pairs?”
“Doesn’t exist.”
Right. The thought was unimaginable, but what if? Plants had fewer chromosomal pairs, while humans had twenty-three. What would a species with th
irty pairs be like? Would they be immortal? Her mind had been calculating possibilities since Helen had reached out with the information, and she figured the species would be airborne. Made sense. “We both know the people who hired you have something more to protect than just drug patents.”
“Really?” He turned his full focus on her. “How do we know that?”
Heat climbed into her face, and she tried to banish it. The guy looked deep into her, as if he knew. But no way could he know her odd ability—nobody knew about it. “Instinct.”
“Right.” He turned back to the quiet country road. “Now who isn’t telling the truth?”
Her mouth dropped open, and she shut it quickly. He was just being sarcastic. No way could he know something about her she couldn’t even explain. “I bet the species can fly.” Made sense that they’d be a combination of God’s creatures, and the ability to fly would be a step up from human abilities.
Chalton snorted. “Ridiculous.”
She rounded on him. “How long do you plan to keep me in Iowa?” If she didn’t escape, and she surely would, somebody would report her missing at some point.
He rubbed what looked like a granite-hard jaw. “I’m keeping you here until you give me the identity of your source and the location of all supporting documents. Then I just need you to sign a nondisclosure agreement, and I’ll go on my way.”
Something, and she wasn’t sure what, sounded off in the statement. “What aren’t you telling me?”
He sighed. “Nothing.”
Lie. It was her gift, one she didn’t understand. She could tell, almost always, when somebody was lying to her. And Chalton had been lying to her from the first second he’d opened his mouth. Such a sexy man shouldn’t be a liar. “Are your orders to kill me?”
His head jerked back. “Of course not.”
Truth. Interesting. “What if I don’t sign the nondisclosure agreement?”
He growled low and didn’t answer.
Yep. That’s what she’d thought. “I guess it makes sense,” she said thoughtfully.
“What?”