17. Ember #2
Richards contemplates me. “Perhaps you need a different mirror.”
I break out in a snort. “Do you ever let anything slide?”
“Infamously no.” He smiles, nudging his sliding specs back into place. “Same time next week. You have my emergency line if the meeting proves challenging.”
The door clicks shut behind me when I escape with a final nod. Rather than my usual deflating routine after escaping one of Richards’s sessions, I stand still. Breathing. Blinking. Adjusting to the new, strange lightness inside my chest.
“Did you finally snap and kill him?”
My head turns, finding Blaine lingering nearby on my immediate right. We haven’t been alone together since he returned in the dead of night, but I was relieved by his arrival.
“Not quite,” I hedge.
“Pity.” He lazily eyes me up. “Want me to do it for you?”
“Pretty sure that would get you permanently booted off the team.”
“Perhaps.” His usual smirk is especially shark-like today. “But it would appear I’m more vital than your team leader previously thought.”
Looking over his battered face, the discoloured skin stark against his short, jet-black locks and obsidian stare, I can’t help but wince. I’ve watched him fight before, but he took no prisoners. Seeing Blaine injured is wholly unfamiliar.
“That looks painful.”
“I’ve had worse.” Blaine pushes off from the wall to inch closer. “Worth it too.”
“Blaine–”
“Whatever speech you have lined up, don’t bother.”
“Who said I have a speech prepared?” I snipe at him.
“You’ve had enough time to think and doubt,” he responds like it’s obvious. “But it will hold no bearing on my intentions. I’m here because you want me to be, and little else matters now.”
“I wasn’t sure if you’d come back.”
“Here I am. Satisfied?”
He halts in front of me, chin tucked to peer down at my expression. His tongue flicks out to roll over the silver lip piercing that takes the brunt of his frustration while thinking. It’s a tic that I often find myself observing.
The scent of bergamot mingles with his leather jacket, forming an addictive concoction that hooks me in. I find myself edging closer. Blaine’s dark, understated aura of raw power never fails to intrigue.
“What do you want from me?” I whisper thickly.
“Your soul, if it’s available.”
“That’s a little bit complicated right now. But… I don’t regret our kiss.”
He preens like a deadly jungle cat eyeing up its next meal. The glimmering, midnight-blue flecks that pepper his irises seem to glow, deepening the velvety depths.
“Then I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give, sweetheart.” Blaine’s lip curls in a cocky grin.
“You understand what that means? There are others involved here.”
“Believe me, I’m aware of exactly who else is involved.” He captures the end of my braid, fingertips stroking the dyed-blonde tip. “It doesn’t scare me in the slightest.”
“Because you trust them, or because you intend to eliminate them?”
“Ah, Ember.” Blaine tuts. “Still so impatient. No more spoilers.”
Tugging on my braid, he guides me forward to ever so lightly brush his mouth on mine. Not a kiss. Not even a tease. It’s a mere whisper that absolves the insecurity his disappearance built inside me.
Surging desire and unmet need make me dizzy. Despite everything, I want something from each of them. Blaine included. The heart-pounding danger he incites inside me can’t be fulfilled by anyone else.
He’s a beguiling but deadly force that may just topple the fragile house of cards I’ve managed to stack. Our team doesn’t trust him. Most of the time, it seems like Axel actively wants to kill him. Yet here I am, dragging Blaine into this tangle regardless.
I must be crazy.
Or simply tired of being told no.
“They’re all waiting for you,” he murmurs in that spine-tinglingly crisp voice. “Else I’d take you into a quiet corner and demonstrate my commitment to you this very second.”
“Right.” I clear my throat.
“Next time one of those fools interrupts us, I won’t hesitate to remove their head with my bare fucking hands. Consider that before taking this any further.”
Gawping at him, it’s clear that Blaine’s serious. Not a hint of humour to be seen. I’m not sure if I find his unhinged brand of attraction terrifyingly insane or downright hot. Maybe even both.
“It’s considered,” I croak out.
“Excellent.”
Before I can step away from his enticing body heat, Blaine curls a hand around the back of my neck. I meet his stare, teeth sinking into my bottom lip.
“Now that I’m a free man, relatively speaking, I’d like to be a little more formal. Permit me to take you out sometime without your bodyguards.”
Copper slicks over my tongue before I find the sense to release my bottom lip.
“I’m sorry… Is the infamous criminal leader and prolific mobster, the actual Phantom himself, asking me on some kind of date?”
Blaine’s sore-looking nose wrinkles at my description. “I suppose so.”
“What does an average date even look like for you?”
“Say yes, and you’ll soon find out.”
My lips curve upwards. “Now I’m intrigued. Yes.”
“There’s a good girl.”
His mouth secures on mine once more, this time harder. I relax into the kiss, my fingers finding his tee and curling into the worn fabric. His lips are firm and confident, applying just the right amount of pressure to scramble my inner monologue.
Everything about him is intoxicating. Least of all the way he languidly nudges his tongue past my lips, testing the boundaries of what I’ll accept. The hand fisting my neck tightens, applying a light pressure that holds me in place.
All too quickly, Blaine releases my neck. He gives my braid one last tug and steps back while I blink rapidly to regather my thoughts. He looks far too smug at the stupefying power of his lips.
“Come along before those boys start searching for us.”
“Boys.” I tut under my breath.
“Don’t tell them I said that. I’m on thin ice already.”
His hand finds mine, our fingers hesitant then curling together. With Blaine anchoring me, I leave Richards’s manipulations behind, creating space between me and his room full of exposed secrets. We ascend to the upstairs conference room in loaded silence.
Two figures stand outside, trading whispers. Warner straightens when he sees us coming, immediately locking onto where Blaine’s fingers grasp mine. It takes great effort not to tug my hand from his.
Looking over his shoulder, Sabre’s most fearsome director, Hudson Knight, nods at me. It’s been a while since our paths last crossed. His icy demeanour, layers of tattoos and multiple piercings fail to intimidate me despite his reputation around the office.
“Finally decided to do some work?” I call out.
His crystal-clear blue eyes roll. “Look who’s talking.”
“I was with that nutcase, Richards.”
“So I hear.” He casts a hand over his ever-messy, raven hair. “Done pandering to the shrink now?”
“Remove the requirement to sit with that weirdo every week, and I’ll be at your beck and call, Director Knight. Until then, I just go where I’m told.”
Blaine surrenders me so I can shake Hudson’s big, scarred hand, though he grips it a little harder than necessary. The way he assesses me is far from cold and professional. He appears concerned.
“You good?”
“Peachy.” I shrug off his worry. “How’s the wife?”
Hudson grimaces. “She’s at the stage of pregnancy where she can’t stand the sight of us. We’re safer hiding here until she decides that she’s ready to see our faces again.”
“So… never, right?”
“Right.” He chuckles.
Looking over to Warner, I find him glaring at Blaine like he can scare him off with a mere frown alone. Clearly, the invitation to return hasn’t resolved their issues.
“Are they here?” I glance back at Hudson.
“Yeah, inside.” He hooks a thumb over his broad shoulder. “Are you ready for this?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
“We’ll cover the updates, but I understand they have some questions for you too. Keep your answers short and brief. Anything you’re uncomfortable with, you can leave.”
“Have they seen the photos?”
Lips pursed, Hudson nods.
“Fuck.” I attempt to roll my tense shoulders back. “Okay.”
“We’ve put out an international BOLO for Gracie Livingstone with updated images and information. The intelligence team places her somewhere in Eastern Europe, though we can’t be sure it isn’t a red herring.”
“How the hell did she end up there?”
“When she was purchased from Luis’s trafficking operation six years ago, she could’ve been sent anywhere across the globe. But Rayna and Fox are confident in their assessment of the evidence.”
Finding Warner’s worried eyes on me, I swallow roughly. He tries for a smile, but I can read him like a book. He’s tense too. We have no idea who purchased Gracie or what she’s been through since then.
Hudson looks over my shoulder to where Blaine lingers. “Madden.”
“Yeah?” He arches an ebony brow.
“Do you still have underground criminal contacts in Europe?”
“Are you asking me as a suspect or as a member of this team?” Blaine counters.
“The latter.”
“Then my answer would be yes. Though none involved in the human trafficking trade. That was my father’s forte, not mine.”
“Any help is better than nothing,” Hudson says dismissively.
Warner harrumphs at that. “Not his kind of help.”
“Put the word out.” Hudson ignores Warner to continue giving commands. “Spread Gracie’s name and face among them with a reward for any information leading to her location.”
“I can ask my crew to make contact.” Blaine’s tone is noticeably hesitant. “But it may not go down well with some of the families. Our reputation was damaged after Sabre’s investigation. They don’t trust us.”
“Try regardless.”
“You want to offer a reward?” Warner reiterates.
“I’m willing to move beyond the playbook.” Hudson splays his palms. “I want results, and I want them fast. Time is running out for us all. Josh’s death was our last failure, understood?”
Mouth snapping shut, Warner reluctantly nods. “Yes, sir.”
“Very well. Let’s get this meeting done.”