Chapter 11
Eleven
Markos didn’t know who or what the hell the woman beside him was—and that fascinated him as much as it concerned him.
Unease had flowed through him when she’d paused, touched Rhys on his arm, and spoken quietly.
Seconds later, the bouncer had handed over the keys to his car without a word of protest or question as to why they wanted to borrow it.
He gripped the steering wheel. His jaw ached from gritting his teeth as they sped through the midnight drizzle. He had witnessed some strange and unusual things in his life. Only once before had things felt this strange—and that was eight years ago.
She’s damn right I want answers, he groused.
“You going to tell me what the hell is going on?”
Kiki exhaled through her nose. “When we meet up with Nikos. I’m sure he’ll have some of the same questions. It’ll be easier to explain once, rather than twice.”
“I’m sure he will.”
She must have felt the sideways glances he kept shooting her. She gripped the armrest tighter as he swerved around a car, narrowly avoiding it before rolling through a yellow light.
“Eyes on the road, please,” she muttered.
He didn’t answer. She turned her head away from him, as if she were trying to pull behind a wall.
He glanced at her again and thought about the things she’d done at the club.
He thought about military tactics and the fact that every weapon, every ability, had a downside, a weakness, a circumstance where it could be turned against its owner.
What was that likely to be for someone who could command people with her mind?
He focused on slowing his breath and reining in his emotions. As he did, he noticed her body relax. A ghost of a smile curved his lips.
“Thank you,” she murmured, glancing at him before turning her head away to stare out the window again.
“For what?”
“You know,” she replied.
He sighed, relaxed his grip on the steering wheel, and slowed down.
“How much have you told Nikos about the things you can do?” he asked, curious.
She folded her hands together on her lap, curling her fingers together. “I haven’t. It’s… not something I normally share with anyone.”
“How did you know about me? About what happened eight years ago?” he asked, needing to know the answer.
“I was there,” she replied, leaning her head back against the headrest with a sigh.
He frowned, trying to remember her, but he didn’t.
“There was another girl—”
Kiki nodded, staring straight ahead. “Yes. She healed you.”
His gut twisted with emotion so sharp, he almost closed his eyes. The tension in his chest grew. He wasn’t crazy.
She was real.
“Where-where is she?” he asked.
“Somewhere safe,” she replied.
“Good,” he said.
She gave him a surprised glance when he didn’t press further. He wanted to ask where, but he knew she wouldn’t tell him. Not yet.
Two things hit him: first, she never once said Brie’s name. Second, she’d been there that night—with Brie. She and Brie were the reason he was alive today.
Twenty minutes later, he whipped the vehicle into a snug parallel space right in front of a fire hydrant.
Kiki arched an eyebrow. “Really?”
“It’s raining. It’s after midnight. We’ll risk it,” he said flatly, already opening his door.
Kiki followed, blinking against the fine drizzle falling from the sky. Her boots hit the slick pavement, cold seeping through the soles. Markos rounded the car just as she shut the door and reached for her elbow.
She flinched. Not from fear, but from the emotional storm radiating off him like static. Questions. Confusion. Protective instinct sharpened like a blade. It hit her like a migraine behind her eyes.
“It’s best if you don’t touch me,” she said quickly, stepping out of reach.
He raised an eyebrow but didn’t press. He just followed silently as she climbed the stoop and punched in the code on the door panel. Her other hand brushed the glass, her senses fanning outward like radar, searching for danger.
Nothing.
Still… her pulse drummed hard in her throat.
Inside, the familiar scent of musty carpet and food lingered in the air. She led him up the narrow staircase, each creak underfoot echoing her anxiety.
She veered to the left when they reached the fourth floor and walked over to Harvey and Jim’s door. She paused and looked at him with a wry smile before she knocked. Her mind swirled as she waited for one of the guys to open the door.
The faint murmur of voices and approaching footsteps echoed behind the door.
Jim stood there in pajama pants and a T-shirt that read I Run on Coffee and Sarcasm.
Her lips twitched and she gave him a rueful smile when he raised an inquiring eyebrow at her before his eyes flicked from her to Markos, then back again.
“Hey,” she mumbled.
Jim stepped aside. “Come in.”
Kiki stepped into the warm glow of the apartment. The living room was cozy and cluttered—books, plants, and a familiar calico cat curled in Harvey’s lap.
Ms. Peabody blinked at her.
Harvey looked up from his recliner, a hand absently stroking the purring feline. “What’s going on? You didn’t piss off some gang today, did you?”
Kiki shook her head, pulling her gaze away from Harvey. The moment her eyes met Nikos’s, the world slammed to a halt.
He stood near the window, his hands buried in his front pockets. His dark hair was mussed, like he’d been dragging his hands through it. His eyes met hers.
The bolt hit her straight in the chest.
God, why does he have to look at me like that?
Fury and relief warred behind those rich-chocolate brown eyes. He was angry. Confused. Dangerous. And still the most magnetic man she’d ever met.
Her heart thudded as she returned his gaze, a slight plea for understanding in her eyes. She curled her fingers into fists at her side when her eyes instinctively moved to his lips. The memory of their earlier kiss momentarily erased everything else.
Jim cleared his throat. “Drink? Tea? Whiskey?”
Both she and Markos shook their heads silently.
Kiki opened her mouth before she closed it again. Words tangled like vines in her throat. She shifted, rubbing her palms on her jeans. Five pairs of eyes—belonging to four men and one feline—watched her like she was about to detonate.
Say something. Anything.
She groaned, her fingers twisting in the hem of her hoodie. Her teeth worried her bottom lip as she tried to figure out what to say without revealing everything.
She started when tender fingers gently tipped her chin up. Her breath caught as she reluctantly looked up into Nikos’s face.
He hesitated for half a second, as if debating with himself what his next move should be.
Then he kissed her.
Right there. In front of everyone.
His lips crushed against hers, hot and claiming, and her body responded before her brain caught up. Her hands clutched his shoulders as he pulled her in, wrapping her tightly against his chest.
She melted—just as she had done earlier. It was like she forgot all her sense of survival when he touched her.
His kiss was fire and forgiveness, frustration and all the feelings she’d never let herself feel—wrapped in one tall, maddeningly irresistible package.
A snort of laughter broke the moment, snapping her back to the fact that they weren’t alone.
“Yep,” Harvey sighed. “That’s what I saw earlier.”
Kiki jerked back, blinking in dismay as Harvey’s comment sank in. Nikos’s eyes glittered with knowledge.
He remembered—every second. Her stomach dropped.
“I… have some explaining to do.”
“Yes,” Nikos said, brushing a thumb over her bottom lip, “you do.”
He didn’t sound nearly as angry as she had expected.
Behind them, Markos and Jim spoke in unison. “Yes, please.”
Harvey just kept stroking Ms. Peabody, who rumbled louder, clearly invested in the drama.
Kiki groaned and dropped her forehead onto Nikos’s chest. “This is exactly why I should never have agreed to go on that date with you. Life was less complicated. One date and look what happens!”
She felt the rumble of his chuckle. “No blind date remorse allowed.”
She lifted her head and scowled at him. “Why not?”
“Because I had a good time. I want to remember all of it—that includes the ending. Would you like to explain why I almost didn’t?”
She grimaced, nodded, stepped back from him, and looked around at the men watching her like she was about to deliver the evening news followed by a live explosion.
“I’m… a little strange, if you haven’t already guessed,” she muttered, wringing her hands. “Okay, maybe more than a little. My mother—” She stopped and closed her eyes for a second before she sighed and opened them again. “My mother called the things I could do… gifts.”
Harvey grinned victoriously at Jim, then Nikos. “Told you she was special.”
Nikos stood against the wall, his arms folded across his chest, and his jaw clenched so tight it ached. He listened in silence as Kiki spoke—calm, collected, and somehow even more mysterious than before.
He was trying—really trying—to wrap his head around what she was saying.
Gifts. Visions. Delicate ‘pushes’ that helped people forget what they saw.
And more… if the haunted expression in her eyes were any sign.
These weren’t things from real life. They were plot twists in paranormal and sci-fi thrillers. The kind he used to binge-watch with Markos after missions when they needed to decompress and forget the blood on their boots.
But here she was. Real. Tangible. And everything about her rattled the walls he kept around his sanity.
And the bloody tall one I thought I had around my heart, he thought ruefully as he watched her gaze flicker to his face time-after-time only for her to shy away again as she spoke.
He shot a glance at Markos, who sat forward on the edge of the couch, elbows on his knees, eyes locked on Kiki like she was the last puzzle piece of a nightmare he hadn’t known he was solving.
Markos cleared his throat. “You said you were there. Eight years ago.”