Evernight
Page 18

And yet what could she say? “Well, you are compared to me,” she settled on. For even though he was not bulky, he towered over her by nearly a foot. He huffed again, a half-laugh, half-snort, before leaning back a little, weariness lining his fac.
“Well,” he said in a lighter tone, “we have one goal accomplished. We certainly gained attention.” Holly chuffed out a weak laugh. “Oh yes, well done, that.” Then she shuddered. “I didn’t expect a pack of them to come for me.” With a weary hand, Thorne raked the hair away from his fac.
“Those were not assassins, lov.
Those were Nex.” “You gave a rather vivid response to their offer to rejoin them,” Holly murmured as though her heart wasn’t racing. His hand found hers and squeezed firmly. “Congratulations, Miss Evernight. You have yourself an army of one.” He looked out the window, and his grip went slack. “Pray that it will be enough.” Someone was waiting for them when Holly and Thorne arrived at Evernight Hous.
As soon as Holly descended the carriage step, a figure slipped between the open gates at the end of the driv.
Thorne tensed, but Holly held out a staying hand. There was something familiar about the woman coming towards them. Her black cloak was drawn up high against the cold, but the little hat pinned atop her neat bun left the majority of her hair exposed. It shone copper bright when she passed beneath the massive gas lamp hanging on the portico’s ceiling. Holly’s tension eased a touch. They’d not be attacked, but a reckoning was imminent. Thorne, feeding off of Holly’s reaction, pressed himself against her sid.
The woman stopped before them. “Mistress Evernight,” said Poppy Lane, director of the SOS, and the woman most believed to be Mother, the secret head of the organization. She was the last person Holly wanted to see now, when blood was drying in Thorne’s hair. Keeping her composure, Holly gave her a respectful nod. “Director Lane.” It was on the tip of her tongue to say “fancy meeting you here” or something equally banal, but dread kept her quiet. Director Lane never visited Holly at hom.
The tension between them pulled tight as Director Lane surveyed Thorne, and a deep frown worked its way across her pale brow. “Mr. Thorne, my sources had marked you as missing and unaccounted for until now.” Thorne said nothing. “Where have you been?” Lane prompted in the face of his silenc.
“Madam,” Thorne said, “as I am not SOS, I do believe that is none of your business.” Director Lane’s mouth twitched. Holly might be inclined to think the woman was fighting a smile, but it was hard to discern when it came to Lan.
“No. But it couldn’t hurt to ask.” She turned her attention to Holly. “Mistress Evernight, did you allow Mr. Thorne the use of an anti-listening device at Verrey’s restaurant little less than an hour ago?” Despite the frigid air, Holly’s cheeks burned. Gods and gadgets but she wanted to kick Thorne’s shin for forcing her out of the house to begin with. But she held Director Lane’s reproving gaze instead. “Your information is correct.” “I see.” Disappointment and censure colored Director Lane’s ton.
“You don’t see at all,” said Thorn.
“Only imply with that supercilious look of yours.” Director Lane angled her chin towards Thorne as if only just giving him her attention. “And what am I implying, Mr. Thorne?” He seemed to invade Holly’s space even further, though he’d yet to mov.
“That Evernight compromised your precious SOS, which is rot.” “Perhaps my concern lies with your loyalties, Mr. Thorne,” Director Lane said. “You were Nex, after all.” “ ‘Were’ being the operative word,” Thorne retorted. “What occurs between Miss Evernight and myself stays between us.” Thorne’s conviction sent something warm fizzing within Holly. But she didn’t revel in it, for Director Lane’s gaze pinned Holly down once mor.
“After leaving Verrey’s, you deployed a top secret smoke bomb that has yet to go through proper testing, upon which time Mr. Thorne violently beheaded five supernatural beings in front of several humans.” Lane cocked her head. “Or do I have this wrong?” Well, hell. Holly fought the urge to cower. “Technically, he beheaded four. I killed one of them.” “Careful, Miss Evernight,” Director Lane said evenly. “Your cheek is not appreciated in this instance.” Holly hadn’t considered her answer cheeky, but she refrained from clarifying. “Why were you engaged in a public bloodbath?” Director Lane asked. “In the middle of Piccadilly Circus, no less.” “Because the bloody buggers weren’t polite enough to attack us in a back alley,” Thorne quipped. “I do so hate an inconsiderate killer.” Bugger all, but Thorne was going to get her sacked. Holly balled her fists to keep from slapping a hand over Thorne’s mouth. Lane’s gaze narrowed just as the temperature fell. Holly knew it was a sign of Poppy Lane’s rising temper. Her particular power was the ability to create frost and ic.
Holly was not afraid. Director Lane wouldn’t hurt her. That didn’t mean that she couldn’t and wouldn’t make her life miserabl.
“Miss Evernight, whether you were at fault or not, the fact remains that you are the head inventor of the SOS and privy to sensitive information. It is the express opinion of both myself and the SOS that you end your association with Mr. Thorn.
It is against the rules for an SOS member to fraternize with a Nex agent. Whether retired or not,” Lane added with an emphatic look at Thorn.
Never mind that Jack maintained his association with Thorne and was now a director, Holly thought bitterly. Thorne’s fangs flashed on a snarl, and he took a hard step in Director Lane’s direction. “You have no right to order Miss Evernight about!” “Oh, but I do,” said Director Lane without flinching. “I am her superior. As SOS, she answers to me.” Holly set a quelling hand upon Thorne’s forearm. But she kept her gaze on Director Lan.
“I am on hiatus, thus I am not SOS for the moment.” A ridiculous distinction, but Holly could think of little else to use as a defens.
The weight of Director Lane’s stare was crushing. “Given events of late, that is hardly comforting, Miss Evernight.” Lane’s pale face twisted with something that appeared to be regret, but she was a hard woman, and not one easily deterred. “Cease interaction now or you’ll have to be brought up for review.” Holly’s insides heaved. She hated disappointing Director Lan.
They were not close, and likely would never be, but it was Poppy who’d given Holly a position on the weapons and gadgetry team. It was Poppy who had promoted her to head of the division. Moreover, Poppy was Sin’s sister. Holly did not want to cause a rift between them. Nor did she fancy being reprimanded by the SOS. Her career had always been the bright star in her world. She was so very proud of her work. Holly squared her shoulders, knowing that she was in danger of losing everything. “I made a promise, Mum. I will not go back on it. You must do what you feel is best, and so must I.” As soon as she finished speaking, she felt ill, ready to be sick all over the cobbles. What would she do if she could not share her work with the SOS? It was too advanced for normal society. She’d be cut off, silenced in the cruelest fashion. What had she done? A cold shiver ran through her. And then she felt the soft touch at the tips of her gloved fingers. Thorne, reminding her that he was there for her. Holly didn’t want to think on how warm his support made her feel. Or the fact that she wanted to clutch his hand and not let go. Lane’s disappointment was fierce upon her fac.
And Holly found herself speaking once mor.
“However, when I return to work, I will…” Words stuck in her throat. She pushed them out. “I will no longer associate with Mr. Thorne.” At her side, Thorne flinched, though he said nothing. He didn’t need to. She knew she’d disappointed him. Did he think her a coward for folding under Lane’s censure? Holly rather feared that she was. Director Lane stared Holly down for an icy moment. “Well then,” she said finally, “I see your mind is set.” Her gaze went to Thorne, and the temperature dropped so swiftly that their breaths came out in puffs of whit.
“You harm Miss Evernight or my organization and there won’t be a safe place for you in this world, Mr. Thorne.” Holly expected a flip reply, but Thorne simply bowed and touched the brim of his hat. “Duly noted, Mrs. Lane.” Then he gave Holly a look of such sheer disgust that she flinched before he turned heel and walked into the house.
Chapter Fourteen
Holly’s father had always said that, when cornered, she tended to act rashly. She rather feared she was guilty of this now, that she hadn’t disappointed Thorne but rather had injured his feelings after Director Lane had backed her into a proverbial corner. For tension and some deeper emotion hummed off Thorne’s frame as he handed Felix his overcoat and gloves in the hall. Ought she apologize? But what could she say? She had to give up any association with him. He’d been standing at her side; surely he understood why. Was he truly upset over that eventuality? Or was it something else? She did not know. Emotions were ephemeral, fleeting things. She dealt in facts and figures. They were safe, logical. Thorne was anything but. Not having a solution to the problem, she kept to what she understood: a schedul.
When he made to climb the stairs, she stopped him. “Are we not going to do your massage?” Even as she said the words, she knew she’d made an error. He stopped short, one foot on the first riser. His grip upon the newel-post went knuckle-whit.
Slowly he turned, and her insides jumped upon seeing his grim expression. In silence, he stared at her as if trying to discover any hidden motive she might hav.
She tried to reassure him. “It isn’t safe for you to forgo them.” He merely looked at her. As though she were a defective machin.
Holly swallowed. “That is, you might slip into madness should you ignore the problem.” Wrong thing to say, apparently, for his eyes narrowed to slits. When he spoke, his voice was a cold whip through the thick silenc.
“We wouldn’t want to put you into any danger, now would we?” That wasn’t precisely what she’d meant, but she didn’t want to argu.
“I’ll wait out here until you are ready.” He’d yet to lower his gaze from hers. “Why wait?” The silky tone slithered over her spin.
He took a step forward, watching her like a falcon does a mouse, even as his hand went to his cravat, jerking it free with a tug. “Such common actions as my undressing mean little to you, correct? I am, after all, nothing more than an experiment.” So then, she’d hurt him. Had he no sense of her finer feelings? That he’d stomped all over them more than once? Irked, she lifted her chin. “As I am nothing more than a remedy.” “Just so,” he said crisply. Like a perfect gentleman, he made a little bow and held out a hand, indicating that she proceed him into her laboratory. “After you, pet.” Walking with a stiffness she felt down to her bones, Holly did as bided. Thorne followed, closing the door behind them with a decisive click that had her insides clenching. Instinct screamed for her to beg off, fle.
But she wouldn’t give Thorne the satisfaction of seeing her unravel. For she knew, with the suddenness of one being caught out unprepared in a rain shower, that he wanted her unhinged. It was in his steady stare and the tight, unpleasant smile tugging at the ends of his lips. Thorne walked to the center of the room. There, he turned to face her. He watched her as he grabbed hold of the lapels of his ruined jacket and opened it wide like an offering. A lump filled her throat. Thorne slipped free of the jacket, and it fell to the floor in a muted thud. Moving with a languid sort of deliberation, he eased the braces off his shoulders. They slipped along the linen of his shirtsleeves with a soft hiss. Behind her, a log in the fire broke with a sharp crack. Holly clutched the back of a chair and remained caught in the snare of Thorne’s attention. Oh, but he knew what he was about. He wasn’t simply undressing. He was putting on a show. For her. As though they would soon tup. His eyes gleamed with rays of silver and black as he unbuttoned his shirt. Slowly. Each button, quietly coming undone and revealing more skin, more of him. Holly glared. He smiled. And then pulled the shirt overhead. The silken strands of his hair settled about his shoulders, drawing her attention to the breadth of them, to the way his waist narrowed down to lean hips. His trousers hung low, held up only by the jut of his hipbones and the bulge of his cock. Gods and gadgets but she didn’t want to notice his cock. Heat swarmed over her skin like a fever. As if he heard her thoughts and sensed her reaction, he paused, and his nostrils flared. Humor lit his gaze as his smile grew crooked, almost smug. Smarmy bastard. She fought the urge to run from the room. Something told her he’d follow. Swallowing with difficulty, Holly fussed about with the heavy blanket he would use to cover himself. She didn’t want to watch him lower his trousers. She didn’t think she could touch him with any sense of propriety if she saw him utterly bared to her. Obviously not fooled, he made a noise of amusement. She ignored that too and went over to add a few logs to the fir.
Something to do, at least. His voice, dark and laced with irony, called out to her. “I’m covered. Your virtue is safe, Miss Evernight.” Holly’s back teeth met with a click. Reluctantly, she turned. The first massages she’d given him had been something of a blur to her. She’d been either exhausted, both mentally and physically, or had managed to remain in a state of detachment, too eager to see if her theory proved correct to truly be affected by Thorn.
Now? She was alert. And far too awar.