Cursed By Destiny
Page 76
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Somehow I ended up on top of him with my knee pressed firmly against his groin. The reason I knew this was because the feel of his erection growing against my leg snapped me out of my foodie-induced insanity. I retracted my fangs and scrambled back to the other side of the limo. Both our faces flushed and we breathed heavily. The tremendous bulge in his pants warned me, though, that it was obviously for very, very different reasons.
The rest of Misha’s shirt had been torn open. I prayed up and down that he’d done it himself. That probably wasn’t the case, given the fiery red claw marks raking across his muscular chest. Shit. It was like Misha’s blood was catnip and his body the damn scratch post. I watched with horror as the grazes closed and the fang marks healed. Then I scowled and pointed at him accusingly. “You knew this was going to happen, didn’t you?”
Misha continued to stare at me with feral eyes. “Had I known, I would have taken the Italian grandmother for lunch much, much sooner.”
“I have to go.” It was horrible. I couldn’t believe I’d let Misha talk me into this, this S&M blood-slurping fiasco. I leapt toward the exit and inadvertently ripped the handle and part of the door off when I wrenched it open. I gawked at the parts like an idiot and then at Misha. He stared at the remains of his door. “It appears the process worked,” he mumbled.
I slipped out and tried to fix the door back into place. Instead, I accidently broke it free from the hinges. Rather than wrestling with it and risking more damage, I shoved it into Hank’s not so willing arms. He hissed at me—surprise, surprise. I ignored him and faced his master. “I’m so sorry, Misha. You can take it out of my paycheck.”
Misha suddenly stood on the asphalt with me, holding my face gently in his hands. “Do not apologize. Just promise you will return to me safely.”
Misha was many things: selfish, overconfident, and kind of a man-whore. Obvious erection aside, he was also my friend and honestly cared for me. “I promise I’ll do my best.”
He kissed my forehead and I waved good-bye.
When I entered the plane, I was momentarily taken aback by its extravagance. Unlike the plane we’d taken to Nicaragua, this was designed for the very rich. A set of four lavish chairs faced another set, with a table in between. Plush couches snaked around the perimeter and a minibar took up the far right corner. The light cream, sage, and burgundy decor suggested tranquillity and relaxation, while the rest screamed party time—both welcome feelings considering our destination.
My sisters and wolves engaged in a conversation about the plane and all its perks, buzzing about all the high-tech gadgets and who’d sleep in the large bedroom at the rear of the plane. The excitement of traveling in such luxury thrilled my loved ones and momentarily extinguished their anxiety.
Tye, if anything, appeared bored. He stretched his long body on one of the couches as if sunning himself on the boulder where Rafiki presented Simba. His white blond hair fanned out over the microfiber and his chest rose and fell as he napped. Typical lion.
The captain and copilot were a nice couple who came out to greet us and explain our flight plan. When they disappeared, Bren cornered me. “What took you so long?” He sniffed. “And why do I smell Misha all over you?”
I’ll just tell them the truth. After all, I’ve done nothing wrong. It’s not like I had sex with the guy—hell, I hadn’t even kissed him. All I did was try to give us some leverage on this suicide mission. What’s wrong with that? I mean—
“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” Emme asked.
“I drank Misha’s blood.”
That drew everyone’s attention; even Tye sat up. Their brows creased in unison. I steeled myself against the inevitable bombardment of questions, screams, and “Why did you do it?”s. Danny came to my rescue before the first stone was cast. “That’s a great idea, Celia. It will help make you stronger on the trip.”
Thank the Lord everyone considered Danny a supernatural expert. His comment mollified everyone’s fears. I sat and attempted to join their conversation. Danny and Emme invited Tye to join us. They were nice like that. I wasn’t.
Tye of course parked his cocky ass right next to me and flashed one of his sexy grins. It was all I could do not to smack him with a barf bag. My claws protruded when he inched closer and leaned into me. Had it not been for the sound of the plane door opening, I would have sliced that damn dimple clean off his face. I almost fell off my seat when I saw who stood there.
Misha had sent reinforcements.
Ying-Ying and Kuan Jang Nim Chang boarded the plane with backpacks and wide grins. Ying-Ying said something in Mandarin at the same time Chang fired off some Korean. Everyone looked to me as if I was the translator.
Shayna bent forward and whispered frantically in my ear. “Do you think he brought his balls?”
“We all need balls to survive this mission,” Bren answered for me.
I stood and bowed to them. “Welcome. Please join us.” I motioned to the chairs with a slight giggle. Team Aric comprised of Taran and the were equivalent of Special Forces. Team Celia consisted of a brand-new wolf, a former lone, a horny lion, three weirdos, and two non-English-speaking sadists.
And let the adventure begin.
We departed Tahoe sometime after eight. The flight to Amsterdam alone would last nine hours. Bren suggested a poker game to pass the time. I hated playing poker with him because he always won. This time, Tye gave him a run for his money and so did Ying-Ying. It was a real exciting game and kept everyone involved even after most of us folded. Kuan Jang Nim Chang repeatedly gave Bren advice in Korean.
Bren pointed to his cards. “That shit won’t work, Chang. If I place these down, he’ll get me here.” Chang squinted at his cards and patted Bren’s back apologetically.
Shayna stopped looking at Ying-Ying’s cards to crinkle her pixie face. “You understood him?”
Bren scratched his scruffy beard. “Hell no. But I got the gist.”
Shayna’s phone rang, and I didn’t need to hear Koda’s voice to know it was him. Her smile lit up the cabin right before she stole into the back bedroom to speak with him.
I couldn’t believe my eyes when Bren tossed his cards on the table. He took Shayna’s place and sat next to Ying-Ying, at first to help her with the game. It didn’t take him long to flirt, tease, and charm her. Ying-Ying giggled at Bren’s attention. I shook my head. Leave it to him to charm the yoga pants off someone without even speaking her language.
The rest of Misha’s shirt had been torn open. I prayed up and down that he’d done it himself. That probably wasn’t the case, given the fiery red claw marks raking across his muscular chest. Shit. It was like Misha’s blood was catnip and his body the damn scratch post. I watched with horror as the grazes closed and the fang marks healed. Then I scowled and pointed at him accusingly. “You knew this was going to happen, didn’t you?”
Misha continued to stare at me with feral eyes. “Had I known, I would have taken the Italian grandmother for lunch much, much sooner.”
“I have to go.” It was horrible. I couldn’t believe I’d let Misha talk me into this, this S&M blood-slurping fiasco. I leapt toward the exit and inadvertently ripped the handle and part of the door off when I wrenched it open. I gawked at the parts like an idiot and then at Misha. He stared at the remains of his door. “It appears the process worked,” he mumbled.
I slipped out and tried to fix the door back into place. Instead, I accidently broke it free from the hinges. Rather than wrestling with it and risking more damage, I shoved it into Hank’s not so willing arms. He hissed at me—surprise, surprise. I ignored him and faced his master. “I’m so sorry, Misha. You can take it out of my paycheck.”
Misha suddenly stood on the asphalt with me, holding my face gently in his hands. “Do not apologize. Just promise you will return to me safely.”
Misha was many things: selfish, overconfident, and kind of a man-whore. Obvious erection aside, he was also my friend and honestly cared for me. “I promise I’ll do my best.”
He kissed my forehead and I waved good-bye.
When I entered the plane, I was momentarily taken aback by its extravagance. Unlike the plane we’d taken to Nicaragua, this was designed for the very rich. A set of four lavish chairs faced another set, with a table in between. Plush couches snaked around the perimeter and a minibar took up the far right corner. The light cream, sage, and burgundy decor suggested tranquillity and relaxation, while the rest screamed party time—both welcome feelings considering our destination.
My sisters and wolves engaged in a conversation about the plane and all its perks, buzzing about all the high-tech gadgets and who’d sleep in the large bedroom at the rear of the plane. The excitement of traveling in such luxury thrilled my loved ones and momentarily extinguished their anxiety.
Tye, if anything, appeared bored. He stretched his long body on one of the couches as if sunning himself on the boulder where Rafiki presented Simba. His white blond hair fanned out over the microfiber and his chest rose and fell as he napped. Typical lion.
The captain and copilot were a nice couple who came out to greet us and explain our flight plan. When they disappeared, Bren cornered me. “What took you so long?” He sniffed. “And why do I smell Misha all over you?”
I’ll just tell them the truth. After all, I’ve done nothing wrong. It’s not like I had sex with the guy—hell, I hadn’t even kissed him. All I did was try to give us some leverage on this suicide mission. What’s wrong with that? I mean—
“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” Emme asked.
“I drank Misha’s blood.”
That drew everyone’s attention; even Tye sat up. Their brows creased in unison. I steeled myself against the inevitable bombardment of questions, screams, and “Why did you do it?”s. Danny came to my rescue before the first stone was cast. “That’s a great idea, Celia. It will help make you stronger on the trip.”
Thank the Lord everyone considered Danny a supernatural expert. His comment mollified everyone’s fears. I sat and attempted to join their conversation. Danny and Emme invited Tye to join us. They were nice like that. I wasn’t.
Tye of course parked his cocky ass right next to me and flashed one of his sexy grins. It was all I could do not to smack him with a barf bag. My claws protruded when he inched closer and leaned into me. Had it not been for the sound of the plane door opening, I would have sliced that damn dimple clean off his face. I almost fell off my seat when I saw who stood there.
Misha had sent reinforcements.
Ying-Ying and Kuan Jang Nim Chang boarded the plane with backpacks and wide grins. Ying-Ying said something in Mandarin at the same time Chang fired off some Korean. Everyone looked to me as if I was the translator.
Shayna bent forward and whispered frantically in my ear. “Do you think he brought his balls?”
“We all need balls to survive this mission,” Bren answered for me.
I stood and bowed to them. “Welcome. Please join us.” I motioned to the chairs with a slight giggle. Team Aric comprised of Taran and the were equivalent of Special Forces. Team Celia consisted of a brand-new wolf, a former lone, a horny lion, three weirdos, and two non-English-speaking sadists.
And let the adventure begin.
We departed Tahoe sometime after eight. The flight to Amsterdam alone would last nine hours. Bren suggested a poker game to pass the time. I hated playing poker with him because he always won. This time, Tye gave him a run for his money and so did Ying-Ying. It was a real exciting game and kept everyone involved even after most of us folded. Kuan Jang Nim Chang repeatedly gave Bren advice in Korean.
Bren pointed to his cards. “That shit won’t work, Chang. If I place these down, he’ll get me here.” Chang squinted at his cards and patted Bren’s back apologetically.
Shayna stopped looking at Ying-Ying’s cards to crinkle her pixie face. “You understood him?”
Bren scratched his scruffy beard. “Hell no. But I got the gist.”
Shayna’s phone rang, and I didn’t need to hear Koda’s voice to know it was him. Her smile lit up the cabin right before she stole into the back bedroom to speak with him.
I couldn’t believe my eyes when Bren tossed his cards on the table. He took Shayna’s place and sat next to Ying-Ying, at first to help her with the game. It didn’t take him long to flirt, tease, and charm her. Ying-Ying giggled at Bren’s attention. I shook my head. Leave it to him to charm the yoga pants off someone without even speaking her language.
