Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
R onin led Mireille out of the greenhouse, wrapping an arm around her to keep her warm as they crossed the patio into the main house.
It was dark and quiet inside, splinters of moonlight slicing across the checkered floor.
They hurried past the empty parlors, then took the staircase to the second floor landing before turning down the hallway toward the west wing.
A sense of foreboding washed over Mireille, and her wolf stirred—hackles raised, teeth bared. As if there was an enemy hidden around every corner and the beast was preparing for a fight.
Mireille rubbed at her chest, trying to calm her wolf as she followed Ronin down the corridor.
Otto’s wing was even more ornate than the rest of the house. Colorful carpets with intricately-woven patterns lined the floors, likely purchased from artisans in southern Nephes. The walls displayed tastefully curated paintings of different continental landmarks. Mireille recognized most, but a few were completely foreign.
She paused before a beautiful landscape rendered in soft pastels. An opalescent palace stood above a field of white flowers. Due to the impressionistic style, Mireille couldn’t tell what type of flowers they were. Her wolf settled, a peaceful calm sweeping away her earlier foreboding.
“Keep up,” Ronin whisper-shouted from down the hall, his face half shrouded in shadow.
They crept up another staircase and came upon a circular landing with a single door. “We’re in the west turret,” Ronin murmured. “This must be Otto’s office. I saw him watching from the window when we arrived this afternoon.” He tried the handle. It didn’t budge. “Guess that would’ve been too easy.”
Mireille surveyed the small landing, then glanced out the window to the estate entrance. Down between the mountains, the city of Kheimos flowed like a spill of liquid glitter.
She unlatched the window and shoved it open, poking her head outside. This high up, the wind howled violently, whipping through her copper hair.
She brushed the strands away, then spied an open window to her right. Given the height of the turret and the smoothness of the wall, she didn’t question why. It was damn-near inaccessible.
For most individuals.
She pulled back inside, then bent down to remove her heels.
“What are you doing?” Ronin grabbed her arm, forcing her upright. “You’re not seriously about to climb out of the fucking window, are you? Dressed like that ?”
She twisted out his grip. “You worried about me putting on a show for the birds?”
Ronin poked his head outside. “No, I’m worried about you falling to True Death.”
Mireille shrugged. “I’m not.”
“There’s barely anything to cling to.”
“There are pockmarks in the stone.” She elongated her fingernails. “Just large enough for me to sink my claws in.”
“Let me do it,” he demanded.
Mireille straightened, hands on her hips. “You won’t even fit through the window. Not to mention, you’re twice as heavy as me.” She dragged a pointed gaze down his massive form. “Gravity is not your friend.” She shucked off her heels, then shoved them toward Ronin. “Here. Hold these for me.”
Ronin took them, his face a mask of panic. Why did he care so much if something happened to her? And why did just asking herself that question terrify her? She needed to shut it down.
“Mireille, I’m supposed to protect?—”
“Oh, please. Don’t pull that macho bullshit on me. I’m not some fragile little female who needs a big strong male to do her dirty work. I’ve been working for the IA, by myself, for centuries. If you can’t handle a little danger, just go back down to the party. Maybe start another fight with Kosera if you need to feed your ego.”
Hurt scurried across his face, swiftly replaced by indignant anger, and she knew her blow had landed. Thank the High Gods. Better that than to have him looking at her with such care and concern.
But he crowded in closer, his jaw clenched, cradling her heels in one enormous hand. “I am not going to let you?—”
“ Let me?”
“—do this. I don’t care if you think you’re in charge?—”
“ Think I’m in charge?”
“—there’s got to be another way to get into that room. If you’d just give me a minute to…”
He muttered a low curse, reaching for her as she climbed onto the ledge and swung out into the open air.
This was a terrible fucking idea.
Her wolf’s bellow was drowned out by the roaring wind.
Mireille’s ice-blue dress billowed around her legs and her hair whipped into her eyes. Her arms trembled and her calves burned as she fought to maintain her hold in the pockmarks, digging her claws in so forcefully she was worried they might crack.
That open window had looked far closer from inside the turret. And the window she’d climbed through looked equally far away.
No turning back now.
She wrenched her left claws from the wall, and the wind tugged at her arm with such force that she nearly lost her balance.
Be careful! her wolf yipped. You need to ? —
If you keep screaming at me, I’m going to lose my concentration.
Her wolf growled low, but shut her yap.
Mireille tossed her hair out of her face, her stomach roiling, then dug her claws into the next pockmark.
She picked her way slowly across the wall, cursing herself for her overconfidence. What had she been trying to prove? There were a thousand other ways she could think of, even at this very moment, to try to get into that room. She’d grasped at the first option she’d landed on, like an overeager rookie.
She blamed Ronin.
He was messing with her instincts, turning her usual careful planning upside down. And now she was hanging off the side of a building in the middle of the night with her panties visible to anyone who might decide to exit the main house.
She smothered her frustration. Now was not the time to indulge it. She needed to focus . Needed to find her next foothold.
The wind picked up again, a fierce, soul-freezing torrent that had her pressing so firmly against the wall that she almost tried to grip it with her teeth.
Her frozen arms quaked, her feet cramping, and despite being only several feet from the open window, she wasn’t confident she had the strength to reach it.
The wind died, praise Anaemos, and Mireille took a deep breath.
I know I told you to shut up, but I’m going to need to use your strength for this last push.
Oh? her wolf crooned. And why should I help you after you scolded me, huh?
Because if you don’t, we’re both going to be pancakes.
The creature huffed, but Mireille’s limbs strengthened and enough power flowed through her muscles that she was able to make a final push.
She strained for the ledge, the claws of her left hand digging into the stone. She was going to make it.
Her feet slipped.
She bit her lip to cage in a scream, didn’t want to draw any attention, and said a silent prayer in her mind to whatever Gods were listening.
She put all of her strength into her left arm, clinging to the ledge with her claws.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck ,” she hissed, her toes scrabbling to find purchase against smooth stone as she struggled to pull her body up.
Gritting her teeth, she surged her right arm upward, just barely hooking her claws over the edge.
After an agonizing, muscle-trembling pull-up, she managed to swing a leg onto the ledge, then hoisted herself up.
She stood on the narrow ledge, pressing her forehead to the cool stone as a hysterical laugh tore up her throat.
You are a crazy bitch, her wolf chuffed. I love it .
Mireille smirked, then reached her arm toward the open window.
A surge of energy shot through her veins, blasting her backward.
Time slowed as her breath whooshed out of her lungs, the free-falling sensation silencing her wolf.
She was about to die. Or be severely injured, at the least. In this stupid dress. On this stupid assignment. For these stupid males.
Another hysterical laugh bubbled through her as the wind tore at her body. She closed her eyes, waiting for the ground to break her.
She slammed into something hard, yet… warm .
Ronin let out an airy grunt, then stumbled backward, cradling her in his arms as they both fell onto the gravel driveway.
She sucked in a gasping breath, the movement bringing her awareness to every place their bodies touched. His hard chest rose and fell beneath her, and she swore she could feel every ridge and dip of his abs against her back. Not to mention a very considerable something pressed against her ass.
They stayed like that for several minutes, Ronin’s powerful arms banded across her chest and hips. She didn’t even feel the bite of the teeth-chattering cold, not with Ronin’s radiant heat seeping through the thin silk of her dress.
She was about to open her mouth when Ronin shifted beneath her, scooping her into his arms and marching her through the front door.
The foyer was empty as he carried her into the front parlor, then set her down in a maroon velvet armchair beside which she spied her shoes.
He gripped the armrests, bringing his face in line with hers, caging her in.
His narrowed eyes blazed, though neither of them uttered a word as she studied him. The hard line of his usually soft mouth. The sharp cut of his jaw. The patrician slope of his nose. All combined into a breathtaking vision of wild, savage beauty.
Of wild, furious beauty.
A bolt of pure, raw need shocked through her.
She wanted to devour the distance between them, slant her mouth over his, taste his anger.
But she didn’t give in to the foolish impulse, likely inspired by the adrenaline still coursing through her veins.
“What happened?” His voice was a faint, guttural sigh.
“The window was warded.”
“I gathered that.” He pressed his lips together. “I meant before. When your legs gave out.” His face was so close that his breath ghosted over her mouth. Had he been watching her the whole time rather than trying to get into that room?
“Foot cramp,” she whispered.
His eyes scanned hers, but he said nothing further as he lowered to his knees and crouched at her feet. And began to rub them.
She didn’t say a word as he worked, swallowing a blissful moan as he ran a strong thumb up her aching sole. He curled his fingers between her toes, loosening the tension, and heat coiled in her lower belly. Fuck, there was something so erotic about his calluses scraping across that soft, rarely touched skin.
“You know,” he murmured, concentrating on his masterful work at her feet, “if you had just given me a moment to think through our options before barreling out of that window…”
“Don’t start,” she grumbled.
Ronin squeezed her arch and the pressure was so delicious that Mireille released a pleasure-soaked whimper.
His golden-blue eyes darted to her mouth. “I’ll take a thank you at any time.”
“The fall wouldn’t have killed me. I would have healed. Probably.”
He snorted a laugh as he plucked up a shoe. He cupped her calf, his warm fingers a brand against her cool skin, then slipped it onto her right foot. “One of these days, Valette, you’re going to admit how much you need me.”
He tucked her left foot into the other shoe, and she pushed up out of the chair, towering over his kneeling form. “Immortality is an awfully long time to wait.” He dipped his head, snickering, as she vented an irritated sigh. “We’re going to have to figure out another way to get into that office.”
“Maybe you should try climbing out of the window again.” He stood, a raven eyebrow cocked beneath his messy white strands. “That ward that blew you off the turret was probably just a one-time activation.”
“Ass,” she muttered, trying not to stare as he sunk his sharp canines into his luscious bottom lip to cage in a laugh.
“You were right about the show though.” He angled his head. “Caught a glimpse of your panties as you were careening toward me. Black lace. I’m into it.”
She smacked his arm but couldn’t help a soft snicker. “We should probably get back to the party before anyone starts to question where we went.”
“Well, if you walk in looking like that , I know what they’ll assume.”
Mireille stepped over to a gilded mirror and nearly burst out laughing. Her hair stuck up at all angles, a tangled copper halo. She smoothed her fingers through it, trying to tame the nest. “There was a black pad outside the office door. I wonder if anyone besides Otto has access to it. Do you think?—”
Voices echoed down the hallway.
“Let’s go,” Ronin said. “No more scheming today, you reckless female. Weren’t you the one who commanded we just spend tonight mingling with the guests?”
She huffed as she let Ronin lead her out of the parlor and back toward the greenhouse.
“Come on, Matakos. Where’s your sense of adventure?”
Then laughed in earnest at his low, rumbling growl.