Into the Fire
Page 15
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I tried not to focus on what came next, so I allowed myself to enjoy the unusual perks of my new body. So this was what it felt like to have boobs and a bubble butt! Never before had I felt things bounce while I walked. I even put an extra sway in my step just to feel it all bounce a little more.
Vlad caught what I was doing, and a sideways grin curled his new, wider mouth. “Do I need to memorize this spell so we can use it for our private enjoyment later?”
Before I could answer, Ian spoke. “If you think this is impressive, I know a fellow whose wife can shape-shift into an actual dragon. I ache with envy at the thought of shagging one of those.”
My jaw dropped. “You’d seriously bang a dragon?”
“Oh, for days,” he responded at once. “Can you imagine the Internet videos? I’d be a bloody legend.”
There was something very wrong with him, but tonight, we’d find out if Ian’s ties to the magical world were everything he’d promised.
“Remember your roles,” Ian said as we approached the entrance to The Pirate’s House. He pushed himself between the two of us, linking an arm around each of our waists. “And whatever you do, don’t kill anyone, Tepesh,” he added.
Vlad’s response was a low growl of “I said I wouldn’t, didn’t I?”
Yeah, but now our real disguise was about to begin. I took a deep breath to center myself. Showtime. I’d been a carnival performer for years, so I was no stranger to acting. This might be a different sort of role, but whatever, I could handle it.
When Ian’s arm slipped lower around Vlad’s waist, however, Vlad’s anger pierced his shields enough to singe my emotions. Saying that Vlad was prickly about being touched was like saying that God was mildly annoyed by the Devil. I stopped even though we’d only made it a couple feet away from the car.
“Are you sure about this?” I said, holding Vlad’s gaze.
It felt like molten steel coated my emotions with the resolve behind his reply. “Yes.”
Ian glanced at Vlad, assessing the situation. Then, moving so fast that he startled me, he grabbed Vlad and kissed him.
Vlad’s rage flash-fried my emotions with the intensity of a dozen wildfires. But he didn’t shove Ian away or burn him with the flames I could practically see beneath his skin. Instead, he bent Ian backward with the force of his answering kiss. When Vlad released him, Ian gave him a crooked grin.
“Guess I was wrong to fret about your past experiences being stronger than your willpower.”
I was so aghast at Ian’s casual reference to Vlad’s childhood imprisonment and rape that I slapped him as hard as I could. If I hadn’t been wearing thick rubber gloves, my whip might have spontaneously shot out and taken his head off, too. Ian rocked back a few feet, and a group of people entering the parking lot let out shocked sounds as they gaped at us.
Ian straightened and gave me a single glare before he turned to the crowd and waved at them. “She loves to play rough,” he told them. “That’s why it takes two of us to handle her, the fierce little vixen.”
One of girls let out an admiring giggle while the rest of the group averted their gaze as they walked by. Ian gave them another saluting wave, then he turned back to me.
“Seems Tepesh isn’t the only one with a temper,” he said in an exasperated tone. “Do I have to make you promise not to kill anyone, too, poppet?”
I stiffened even as part of me acknowledged that I’d gone too far. Vlad was more than able to defend himself, if he’d felt the need. At least our cover was still intact, even if it now looked like I was a sadist as well as a sex groupie.
“Sorry,” I muttered.
“Don’t be,” Vlad said. His fingers traced up my arm and he dropped his shields long enough for me to feel satisfaction rising in him, mixed with the remains of his anger. He liked that I’d overreacted on his behalf, even if there had been no need. Then he fixed Ian with a laserlike glare.
“Don’t ever bring that up again,” he said, his pleasant tone belying the scent of smoke starting to emanate from him.
The smile wiped from Ian’s face, replaced by an expression I hadn’t seen before. On anyone else, I’d call it sincerity. “I wasn’t making light. Men handle such things differently. Some heal and go on to live completely normal lives. Some abhor contact with others afterward, and some”—a shrug—“seek out all the contact they can get to prove that it’s their choice now. I simply needed to know if your history, combined with your well-documented dislike of personal contact, would be a stumbling block to our goals tonight.”
Ian continued to hold Vlad’s gaze, and the tension in the air changed. Anger gave way to an unspoken acknowledgment that made me glance away, suddenly feeling like I’d walked in on a very personal conversation. I wanted to tell Ian that I was sorry for what had happened to him, which was how I interpreted the subtext of his statements. But if I was right, Ian wouldn’t want my pity. No, if he was anything like Vlad, he’d scorn pity because he’d turned the pain from his former rape into steel that now made him unbreakable.
Then, abrupt as a thunderclap, Ian’s expression transformed into his usual mocking smirk.
“But, since we’ve established that you’re a very convincing actor—blimey, I’ll fantasize all night about that blazingly hot tongue!—let’s go find some sorcerers, shall we?”
“At The Pirate’s House restaurant,” I added, fighting a stab of ridiculous jealousy that made me want to inform Ian that Vlad’s tongue and every other scorching part of him was mine.
Vlad caught what I was doing, and a sideways grin curled his new, wider mouth. “Do I need to memorize this spell so we can use it for our private enjoyment later?”
Before I could answer, Ian spoke. “If you think this is impressive, I know a fellow whose wife can shape-shift into an actual dragon. I ache with envy at the thought of shagging one of those.”
My jaw dropped. “You’d seriously bang a dragon?”
“Oh, for days,” he responded at once. “Can you imagine the Internet videos? I’d be a bloody legend.”
There was something very wrong with him, but tonight, we’d find out if Ian’s ties to the magical world were everything he’d promised.
“Remember your roles,” Ian said as we approached the entrance to The Pirate’s House. He pushed himself between the two of us, linking an arm around each of our waists. “And whatever you do, don’t kill anyone, Tepesh,” he added.
Vlad’s response was a low growl of “I said I wouldn’t, didn’t I?”
Yeah, but now our real disguise was about to begin. I took a deep breath to center myself. Showtime. I’d been a carnival performer for years, so I was no stranger to acting. This might be a different sort of role, but whatever, I could handle it.
When Ian’s arm slipped lower around Vlad’s waist, however, Vlad’s anger pierced his shields enough to singe my emotions. Saying that Vlad was prickly about being touched was like saying that God was mildly annoyed by the Devil. I stopped even though we’d only made it a couple feet away from the car.
“Are you sure about this?” I said, holding Vlad’s gaze.
It felt like molten steel coated my emotions with the resolve behind his reply. “Yes.”
Ian glanced at Vlad, assessing the situation. Then, moving so fast that he startled me, he grabbed Vlad and kissed him.
Vlad’s rage flash-fried my emotions with the intensity of a dozen wildfires. But he didn’t shove Ian away or burn him with the flames I could practically see beneath his skin. Instead, he bent Ian backward with the force of his answering kiss. When Vlad released him, Ian gave him a crooked grin.
“Guess I was wrong to fret about your past experiences being stronger than your willpower.”
I was so aghast at Ian’s casual reference to Vlad’s childhood imprisonment and rape that I slapped him as hard as I could. If I hadn’t been wearing thick rubber gloves, my whip might have spontaneously shot out and taken his head off, too. Ian rocked back a few feet, and a group of people entering the parking lot let out shocked sounds as they gaped at us.
Ian straightened and gave me a single glare before he turned to the crowd and waved at them. “She loves to play rough,” he told them. “That’s why it takes two of us to handle her, the fierce little vixen.”
One of girls let out an admiring giggle while the rest of the group averted their gaze as they walked by. Ian gave them another saluting wave, then he turned back to me.
“Seems Tepesh isn’t the only one with a temper,” he said in an exasperated tone. “Do I have to make you promise not to kill anyone, too, poppet?”
I stiffened even as part of me acknowledged that I’d gone too far. Vlad was more than able to defend himself, if he’d felt the need. At least our cover was still intact, even if it now looked like I was a sadist as well as a sex groupie.
“Sorry,” I muttered.
“Don’t be,” Vlad said. His fingers traced up my arm and he dropped his shields long enough for me to feel satisfaction rising in him, mixed with the remains of his anger. He liked that I’d overreacted on his behalf, even if there had been no need. Then he fixed Ian with a laserlike glare.
“Don’t ever bring that up again,” he said, his pleasant tone belying the scent of smoke starting to emanate from him.
The smile wiped from Ian’s face, replaced by an expression I hadn’t seen before. On anyone else, I’d call it sincerity. “I wasn’t making light. Men handle such things differently. Some heal and go on to live completely normal lives. Some abhor contact with others afterward, and some”—a shrug—“seek out all the contact they can get to prove that it’s their choice now. I simply needed to know if your history, combined with your well-documented dislike of personal contact, would be a stumbling block to our goals tonight.”
Ian continued to hold Vlad’s gaze, and the tension in the air changed. Anger gave way to an unspoken acknowledgment that made me glance away, suddenly feeling like I’d walked in on a very personal conversation. I wanted to tell Ian that I was sorry for what had happened to him, which was how I interpreted the subtext of his statements. But if I was right, Ian wouldn’t want my pity. No, if he was anything like Vlad, he’d scorn pity because he’d turned the pain from his former rape into steel that now made him unbreakable.
Then, abrupt as a thunderclap, Ian’s expression transformed into his usual mocking smirk.
“But, since we’ve established that you’re a very convincing actor—blimey, I’ll fantasize all night about that blazingly hot tongue!—let’s go find some sorcerers, shall we?”
“At The Pirate’s House restaurant,” I added, fighting a stab of ridiculous jealousy that made me want to inform Ian that Vlad’s tongue and every other scorching part of him was mine.
