Sweet Temptation
Page 16

 Wendy Higgins

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I grab the back of my neck, trying to steady myself.
“She doesn’t speak English,” Marissa says. “But some things are universal, yes?” She and Father share a smile. “She is to remain a virgin, of course.”
I allow my gaze to flicker to the girl, whose eyes are red-rimmed. Her light hair is pulled into loose pigtails. Her feet dangle, not touching the floor, in worn Mary-Jane-style shoes. I step back, causing Father’s eyes to glow like a stoplight. Marissa and the girl do not have the ability to see his eyes redden, and I wish I didn’t either.
“Is there a problem?” he asks through clenched teeth.
The answer should be “No, sir.” I could try to force myself. I could try to think of someone else. Anna’s face flashes through my mind’s eye. She would cry if she saw this. I look at the little girl’s feet again, and I can’t. I just bloody can’t.
“Kaidan,” Father whispers, and that one word is laden with warning.
I dare to lift my eyes to his and open my mouth to speak the words. “I will do anything you ask of me that’s in my physical power, Father. You know that. But I cannot force my body to react to a child. It’s just . . . not my thing.” I grab the back of my neck again as he stares at me. I’ve never defied him.
“Shall I get you a Viagra?” he asks. I nearly scoff. Oh, yes, that’s just what I need. Artificial lust. Marissa cackles in mirth at his cruel teasing.
“Anything but this,” I whisper.
“Are you morally against it?” He edges toward me, fire in his eyes. “Do you think the services Marissa is providing to hardworking clients are beneath you?”
“Of course not,” I lie.
“Are you like the other prudes in society who think their brand of lust is the only acceptable one?” He is right in my face now, and my heart is racing.
“No, sir. Lust is lust.”
“Then what is the problem?” he shouts, and spittle forms at the edges of his mouth.
Marissa is grinning, and the girl Viktoria begins to cry. Marissa pulls a fucking sweet from her purse and gives it to the child, crooning, “There, there.”
Father continues his tirade. “Did you not tell me you can feel lust for anyone?”
Shite. I should have never told him that.
“Not anyone, sir. Only those who lust for me first.”
Yeah, nasty little fact about me. Anyone, and I mean anyone who blazes a red aura for me . . . I will find something to fancy about them as well. Sexy ankles, full lips, shiny hair, you name it. It’s as if my body is hardwired to do my job with no excuses. But this child has a few years before she’ll know what lust is.
Father huffs through his nose, nostrils flaring. This is it. This is where he’ll give me an ultimatum. Take the girl to my room this instant or dig myself a nice burial hole somewhere out in the woods. I can’t believe it’s come to this.
Marissa stands and saunters over, placing a hand on Father’s shoulder.
“Darling, let him be.” She pushes herself in so she’s sandwiched between us, her arse against Father and her heavy chest against mine. Father growls and takes her hips as she runs her hands over my shoulders and down my arms. Her aura goes red as she stares up at me with bloodred lips and black-lined eyes. My stupid body reacts.
Marissa laughs and rubs against me. “He can’t help it if he prefers grown women.”
I hate her.
“I will train the girl myself, luv,” Father says against her ear.
I hate him, as well.
Father snaps his fingers twice in the air and shouts, “Raul!” In a moment the driver stands in the doorway. “Ready the car for Marissa.”
“Yes, sir.” The driver bows his head and hurries off.
Father glares at me and then flicks his hand to tell me to get out of his sight. As I turn to go I glimpse the girl with the sweet in her cheek and the sad eyes.
I hate my life.
CHAPTER FIVE
Road Trip with a Nun
“Come and take a walk on the wild side . . .
’Cause you and I, we were born to die.”
—“Born to Die” by Lana Del Rey
After the events of last night, I need to focus on protecting myself and staying alive. Nevertheless, here I am, humoring this girl who refuses to do what’s best for her. Driving her across the country to meet her demon father for the first time.
Yeah, there’s no part of this arrangement that’s smart, is there?
Patti, although she seemed to loathe the idea of Anna meeting Belial, thinks he will somehow be able to help and protect Anna. When Patti adopted Anna, she was told by the orphanage to find Belial and return to speak with a nun named Sister Ruth when Anna got older. There’s more to this story than I can guess, and I’m too damned curious to walk away now. Plus, I feel a foreign sense of obligation for her. I could have offered to fly us—I certainly have the funds—but a road trip will allow me more time to figure her out. Alone.
I turn up the stereo, but my thoughts are louder.
It’s like Anna’s a stray I stumbled upon, and she’ll be crushed by a damn car if I let her out of my sight. I’ve never met anyone so filled with bloody goodness. She practically glows. When I’m with her I feel . . . different. Lighter or some shit.
I glance over at this girl, this naive Neph, void of ego, and I shake my head. We drive with the music blaring. I expected my playlist to be too hard-core for her, but she seems perfectly content, even humming along with some of the songs. When “Sex and Candy” by Marcy Playground comes on I see her listening intently. She meets my eye at the chorus, a splotchy blush running up her neck, before she quickly turns to stare out her window. I look forward again and grin, keeping an eye on the skies for evil whispering spirits.