The pain makes it easier to push away the voice.
And that’s always been the case, even back then.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Chapter Nine
Trinity
It has to be the weed. Or the booze. Something’s doing weird, weird shit to my brain. That bit in a Disney movie where a magical light zooms around the heroine and lifts her up? That’s me right now. It feels like I’m suspended inches from the floor, a glittering aura whirling around me.
In my wildest dreams I would never have imagined anything could feel this good. This…right.
Reuben’s got one hand around the back of my neck, the other at the small of my back. Using his hands and body, he guides me.
Moments later, faint noises in the background clamor for my attention but they sound wrong and violent so I push them out of my mind.
This…this is the complete opposite.
“See?” Reuben murmurs into my ear. “And you thought you couldn’t do it.”
I wasn’t about to tell him I’d danced before. A lot. My mirror had been my only audience, and my worst critic. For all I know, I probably looked a right idiot back then as I swayed to my own quiet humming.
I’d really hoped to use my feminine wiles to strike a deal with these men, but I guess I still have a lot to learn about the art of seduction.
Also, dancing for an actual audience is much harder than watching yourself in a mirror. So much so, I hadn’t even known where to start.
Reuben saved me.
This whole time I’d had my hands at my side, limply moving along with my arms. But as soon as Reuben’s breath brushes my skin, I suck in a breath and force myself to reach out and touch him.
My fingers trace the outlines of his perfectly sculpted muscles. I tilt my head back and open my eyes. They flutter and then go wide in surprise.
Reuben’s glaring at me.
He stops moving, and snatches my wrists together in one meaty hand. “What are you doing?” he demands in a low voice.
“I was just…I thought we were…”
Movement draws my gaze away.
Cass storms out of the curtained area of the room, a hand on his stomach like he’s sick. The snarl on his face sends a chill through me, but as soon as he looks up and sees me, it disappears.
My mouth opens to ask him what’s wrong, but by then everything’s moving too fast.
“Enough of this bullshit foreplay,” he grates out, whipping his hand away from his stomach. He points straight at me and advances so fast that I wheel back from him with a stifled yell.
He grabs my arm before I have a chance to get away, and throws me into the armchair I’d been sitting in.
I gasp—more in shock at how fucking strong he is than in actual pain. Then he’s on top of me, straddling my waist and yanking my dress up my legs.
Cool air caresses my upper thighs as he hikes my skirt up my hips. Since my panties are still in Zachary’s tin box, there’s nothing to shield me from the dark lust gleaming in his eyes.
“Stop!” I yell. I start bashing at him with my fists, but he knocks my arms away with a flick of his hand, the other going to his belt.
“Keep singing that pretty song, little blackbird.”
The hair on my arms stands up straight. His voice is low, rough, and has an English accent, like he’s mimicking someone.
What. The. Fuck?
The button on his jeans pops open with a twist of his hand.
I scream, my fists turning into claws. He grimaces, now straining to keep back my attack while working his fly. I buck my hips to try and shake him off, but that just makes him laugh.
Why is no one stopping him?
Mother of God—are they just going to watch?
I obviously put up too much of a fight. Cass grabs my hair, wrenches back my head, and slaps me.
A shock wave coruscates through my skull. My vision swims with tears. My face goes numb. I blink hard, sending those tears down my cheeks.
I watch in dumbstruck silence as Reuben rips Cass off my lap and throws him against the wall like he weighs nothing. Zachary appears by the curtain, but his head hangs low, and there’s a strange set to his mouth.
My Disney movie has just turned into a horror show.
Reuben’s got Cass against the wall, his arm pressed to his throat. Cass’s face reddens, but he doesn’t fight back.
He’s fucking grinning at Reuben.
Reuben’s muscles bulge beneath his shirt as he uses his arm to shove Cass a couple of inches up the wall.
But there aren’t any blows exchanged. He’s just restraining him. Zachary lumbers over and tries to pull Reuben off. Reuben doesn’t even shift.
A cool hand slips around my wrist and tugs. My neck feels stiff as I turn to look at Apollo. I’m dimly aware that I’m exposed, but my hand’s shaking too much for me to successfully pull down the hem of my dress.
“Let’s go someplace else, yeah?” Apollo says, smiling so calmly you’d swear he hasn’t noticed someone was about to get murdered. “Come on. I wanna show you something.”
When I don’t move, he dips his head a bit and then presses a quick peck to my slap-stained cheek. “There. All better now.”
Again he tugs at my wrist.
Somehow I stand.
He leads me out of the lair just as I hear the thump of flesh on flesh and hear Cass groan in pain.
What. The. Fuck?
Bright sunlight bathes my face when we leave the crypt. Apollo hangs back at the doorway, his hair shifting as he checks left and right.
There’s no one in sight, but he still seems hesitant to leave the shadows and step into the light.
Vampire.
I laugh at the ridiculous thought, and Apollo throws a concerned look at me over his shoulder as he starts toward the dormitory.
“Okay there, pretty thing?”
I giggle at him.
“Sorry…it got a bit rough in there,” he says. We’re walking at a brisk pace, his fingers handcuffed around my wrist. “They’ll calm down. A few punches and they always do. Like Fight Club, right? And shit, how was that cinematography? Did you know Cronenweth deliberately underexposed the actors’ faces to force the audience to pay more attention in each shot?”
I say nothing, instead willing the world to stop bobbing up and down so hectically. I couldn’t have had more to drink than yesterday, but yesterday I’d had a good long nap before I’d attempted to walk anywhere.
Now I feel like everything I’ve consumed today has only just kicked in. I feel like I’m walking on a trampoline an inch off the ground. And every time I shift my eyes even a little, the world blurs.
“I’m drunk,” I announce.
“That’s the spirit,” Apollo replies without slowing. “Nice day for it, too.”
I finally find it in me to pull back. “No. I mean…really drunk.” I sway as soon as we come to a halt, and he steps forward to steady me by slinging an arm around my waist.
“Easy there,” he says and then starts walking again. “There’s nothing to it, see? You just keep your eyes on something that’s not moving. Like the bell tower. Can you see it?”
My head tilts back.
Fuck, that’s a big building.
“Yeah.”