54. Riggs
RIGGS
There’s no clue’s down here. Izara tricked me.
“C’mon, Izara…” Riggs backed into a dresser, the drawers rattling on impact. “I don’t feel like explaining why I don’t want to do this with you.” His eyes fell on her ring, anxiety rushing throughout his entire body.
“What’s gotten into you?” Izara gripped the collar of his robe, pulling him close. “We used to fool around all the time.”
“Things are different now.” Riggs pried her cold, boney fingers off him.
“I am focused on my research. You know this.” There was no way in hell he was telling Izara there was someone else.
If she knew about Esemeray, she’d kill her.
Riggs was certain of it. A servant girl who had smiled at him years ago had gone missing quickly afterwards, and Riggs was certain Izara had something to do with it.
Izara pushed against him, pinning him to the dresser.
Wiping the sweat off his brow, Riggs' gaze roamed the living quarters, keeping an eye out for the mechanism to open the flooring above. He needed to get out of here.
He figured Kohen had a sanctuary beneath for prayer, but this was different.
This was a room specifically for pleasure.
No windows. No doors. Just a room with a bed made for a king wrapped in a ruby comforter, trimmed with a forest-green lace.
Ropes hung on the ceiling, and even a cage in the corner with chains.
A place where no one would find or hear you.
“I dream of you…” Izara licked the base of his throat, the tip of her tongue toying with his Adam’s apple. “Inside of me, fucking me.” She chuckled. “It can be our little secret. Just fuck me, I won’t tell.”
Riggs cringed, the handles of the dresser digging into his back. He grunted, attempting to scoot away, his voice straining. “Please, Izara…” He’d shove her off him, but that ring and her temper challenged him.
Izara dropped her hands, leaning on a beam, and popping the buttons along her gown, revealing the peak of her breasts.
She stuck her lower lip out. “You used to be so much more fun…letting me stroke you…suck you…” Revealing her nipple, she pinched down hard, and a deep moan ripped through the space. “Don’t make me beg.”
“Stop, Izara.” Riggs rubbed at his spine, certain there was an imprint of a monkey’s face on his back from the knob. “That was then.” Riggs wiped her saliva off his throat, fixing his gaze on the cherry walls. “We must?—”
The flooring shifted, and light flooded the room.
Thank the gods.
Izara twisted around the post, playing with her bottom lip, shadows dancing across her face. “Killian, Sophie. How did you find us?”
Riggs turned, his breath catching. He shifted on his feet, running his hands through his hair and fixing his strands.
He met Esemeray’s eyes, searching her for any signs of distress.
As wrong as this situation with Izara looked, he hoped Esemeray wasn’t thinking the worst. He needed to talk to her. Needed to know where her head was at.
Esemeray’s gaze broke from his and traveled around the dimly lit space, her cheeks slackening as it fell upon the bed, then to Izara’s open robe. Esemeray’s chest rose and fell, her hands trembling at her sides.
Oh, gods. Riggs' stomach plummeted. This is not what we needed.
“What are you doing down here?” Killian asked, walking closer to them, Esemeray following a step behind, avoiding Riggs' gaze.
Riggs released a defeated breath, keeping his eyes locked on Esemeray, hoping she’d look. Please, look at me. Please, please.
Izara stalked to Killian, attempting to size him up. “We were searching for the killer, what do you think?”
“Looks like it…” Killian said, his tone laced with sarcasm. He looked at Riggs. “You good, brother?”
Riggs nodded. Nope.
“What is this place anyway?” Killian roamed around, tapping his finger along a glass case full of what looked to be an array of sex toys. It was the only thing Riggs could think of. He had never seen such oblong and spikey objects displayed in a case. What freak would stick that up their?—
“An area that is not allowed for guests, and we should really get going before someone finds us down here,” Izara said, buttoning her robe.
“What did you find then?” Killian challenged.
“None of your business.” Izara flicked her gaze to his. “If anyone should be familiar with rules, it’s you, Killian, King of Cards.”
Killian choked, turning a shade of crimson. “King of Cards?”
Riggs wanted to laugh at his brother’s reaction—wanted too, but wasn’t in the mood. They had played one game with Izara and Oliver—one fucking game, and Killian beat them all. It was a silly game, and he had cheated. But King of Cards? Really? Who the fuck came up with that?
Izara wailed, the pitch so high, Riggs plugged his ears. Godsdamn.
“It’s what we call you in our lands.” She smiled, revealing her teeth, the front two gapped. “Did you and Sophie find anything?”
Killian matched her smile. “Again, rules are rules.” He pointed to the bed. “What is this place? A ritual for baby making?”
Esemeray stiffened, her gaze falling to the floor, her shoulders curling inward. Riggs made his way to her, until Izara craned her neck like an animal, pinning him with distaste. She cannot know. He halted his steps, sliding his hands in his pockets, and whistled a tune. Act casual.
Izara clicked her tongue at Killian. “Again, none of your business.”
In the corner of Riggs' eye, he saw shadows seeping from Esemeray’s hands and dumping on the floor. Riggs froze. Oh, shit. This isn’t good.