Chapter 18 #3
“Hmph.” Nala lightly tapped Varen’s ass again. That is a fine ass. “You said you were gonna take care of me, though. I know that doesn’t come for free.” She toyed with Varen’s buttons, gauging her non-reactions. “Face it. You want to see me get down on my knees and beg you to have your way with me.”
Varen narrowed her eyes. “Of course I do.”
Nala glanced at how Varen’s body became rigid in her tight clothes. I did that. I’m kind of awesome. “Well, you don’t get to. Because I’m not Nightingale right now, so you don’t get to boss me around until I give in to my temptations. Nala Nazarov doesn’t play that game.”
She could practically hear the next eye roll happening in the back of Varen’s head. Whatever. Nala diverted her hand to Varen’s pocket, plucking her wallet and flipping it open to her small wad of cash. A five was sufficient to help Nala get home.
“I’ve gotta go. Call me when you hear something. I’ll try not to make too many shady friends out there.”
Nala left, bidding no further adieus as she tossed the wallet on the desk and bypassed Andrew glaring at her.
She rode the elevator down to the ground floor, now full of businessmen and women starting their commutes home.
The transit mall along the street outside was fuller than usual, comprised of eco-friendly businesspeople and the service staff that helped operate the surrounding buildings.
Nala tucked herself beneath a glass enclosure as a drizzle fell on the already darkening streets.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She almost didn’t read Varen’s text, because she wasn’t in the mood to change her mind about things. I must remain resolute. Usually, that was easy… then she thought about the way Varen touched her… controlled her… Remain resolute!
Since the bus was still another ten minutes away, however, Nala pulled out the phone and saw that it was a mere image attachment. A single line accompanied it.
“No matter what name you go by, you will always be her.”
It was the picture Varen took the other night. Nala stared, at first in confusion, then in wonder.
The ropes twirled together, blending in, blending out, crisscrossing in an intricate design that represented an angel’s wings.
No, not an angel’s. A bird’s.
Nala knelt on the stage, head bowed. Her arms held out above her head, attached to the wings preparing to take off in flight. To attack. To run.
Anyone else modeling, and she would say it was very beautiful, and that was it. Being her? The Nightingale? There was a sinister air in the way the wings flapped. Her bowed head made her look injured but determined. Grief and a thirst for revenge comingling most dangerously.
It was her. It was Nala. It was the Nightingale.
Tears attacked the edges of her eyes. Nala turned against the wall, hiding her emotions from the people standing around her.
She really is an artist. Was Nala? Had Varen captured her essence?
Had she tamed an angry woman with a thirst for blood?
Or was Nala a willing canvas, waiting to be exploited by the first woman to show a genuine interest?
“I’m going to do it,” she muttered into the back of her hand. “I’m going to take that son of a bitch down.” Xan Ravenwood had been in awe of this image. Awe? Fright? “I’m going to need her, though.” Varen was her means. Her means to revenge, her means to justice… her means to freedom.
Her eyes were dry by the time the bus pulled up and a dozen people got off and on. Nala clutched her phone in her hand, purchasing a new ticket before sitting next to a woman with sleepy eyes and perfume as strong as the wind kicking up outside.
“You’ll help me, right?” Her thumb lingered above the send button before smashing it.
“I’ll give you whatever you need.”
“For Desirée?”
A minute passed. The bus stopped farther down the transit mall, letting more commuters on as the place quickly became standing-room only.
When Nala’s cell phone buzzed again, it was with a man with two shopping bags standing right beside her, threatening to smack her if he even so much as turned around.
“For you, Nala.”
The phone tapped against her lips as she bowed her head.
Nala undid the clasp in her hair, letting it fall.
She needed to shield herself the rest of the way home.
None of these people could know why silent tears fell down her cheeks.
They couldn’t begin to understand the horror inflicted upon her.
The upheaval Xan Ravenwood brought to her family…
and the heart-crushing emotion Varen Lake bestowed from behind a stoic fa?ade.
“Thank you.”
It was the first time she truly realized she could not do this alone. The enlightening thing? She didn’t want to do it alone anyway.
Varen would help her. Varen would be by her side. Whatever happened along the way – and whatever happened afterward – Nala could count on at least one person to protect and guide her on the road to bringing down her sister’s killer.
She had to not fall in love with Varen. That would lead her astray. That would lead to her heart shattering into a million more pieces she could not afford to lose – not without also losing the last shred of her soul.
“You have friends,” the note said. Nala didn’t know what it meant, but she knew what it should mean. Varen. Friend first, lover second. Nala hoped it would stay that way. She didn’t trust that it would.