There is a grunt. My eyes widen as I flee across the parking lot. For a second, my heart pounds, and my brain allows me to think I might get away.
But then my right hand is grabbed. A scream escapes my lungs as I am ripped away from escape. I turn my head and look at the one that captured me. Not Him.
No, this one has the same dark hair and large frame. But he is rougher, his expression meaner. I feel his arm slip around my waist at the same time as I feel the push of cold steel into my belly.
He’s got his gun pressed flush against me, a wicked glint in his eye. My whole body revolts, kicking at him even though I know that he is probably going to shoot me. He reacts by jamming the gun into my tender belly. His face twists with a grimace.
“Quit resisting.” His lilting accent, I realize now, is Irish or Scottish.
“No!” I scream, fighting his hold. “Let me go!”
He jerks my hands behind me, neatly zip tying them together. He does it so fast that I have no doubt that he’s done it a thousand times. Then he grabs my arm and hauls me over to where the other two men in suits wait.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see that the young woman has fled. Maybe she will get help.
The main one of the three men in suits snaps his fingers in my face. “Hey. Right here.”
I focus on him, hearing blood rushing in my ears. He looks at me, a moment of humor passing across his face. It’s gone before I can name it, though.
“Persephone Corbin, I presume.” He tilts his head, waiting for a response from me.
I swallow, nodding. “Yes.”
His eyes rake over me body. I don’t know what conclusions he’s drawing about me, but I feel as though I am a fat pig being considered for slaughter.
“I am Hades Lyon,” he says, his Scotch burr rounding the vowels in his pronunciation. It’s pleasant enough that it sends a hot shiver rushing through my blood. Admittedly, I catch myself thinking that I could listen to him talk in this low, urgent voice all day.
He clears his throat. “These are my brothers, Ares and Eros. We are looking for someone with just yer skill set.”
I lick my lips, darting a glance to the bodies that the men left on the ground. “I’m… I’m not interested.”
My voice sounds desperate and cornered. I flush, though I don’t know why.
“We were told ye might feel that way.” His lips curl faintly at the corners of his mouth. “Ye didn’t ask what the skill set we require is.”
I look at Hades, feeling my heart skittering in my chest. “I don’t care. I want to be left alone.”
The one who holds my arm, the one Hades referred to as Ares, releases a sound of disgust. “Who cares what ye want?”
Hades keeps his eyes trained on my face. “We came here looking for a very talented forger.”
The second he says it, I can feel the blood draining from my face. I give my head a tiny shake.
“No. You have the wrong person.”
Hades trades a sideways glance with the other brother, Eros. “I dinnae think we do. We are looking for ye, lass. An angel beset by devils, on the run from the law.” His lips twitch. “Or is it Constantine yer running from?”
At that moment, all hell breaks loose inside my head. I thrash violently, trying to get loose. All while, Hades just stands there, seeming almost amused by my struggle for freedom.
“Yer just going to hurt yerself, Persephone.”
Ares jerks my arm. I reflexively bite him, burying my teeth into the flesh of his shoulder.
“Fuck!” He jabs me with the gun again, but I don’t care. There are worse things than dying.
Never, ever let a kidnapper take you to a second location. Those words keep playing repeatedly in my head, an incessant loop.
I start screaming. Hades flicks his fingers at me, dismissive. Ares digs his hand into the flesh on my neck, his fingers forming a band. My air is cut off at the slightest pressure from his fingers.
I look to Hades, my expression pleading. He smirks as he looks at my face. “Shut up. Dinnae make any more fuss. Or I’ll let Ares render ye unconscious.”
“Maybe ye should let me do it anyway,” Ares grits out.
My struggles do not cease, but they do slow down. Ares still chokes me as I stand here, waiting to hear Hades’ decision.
He flicks his fingers again. “Get her in the car. We need to be going.”
Then he turns on his heel and heads away, leaving Ares to scoop me up and manhandle me all the way to the car.
Chapter Five
Hades
We are an hour from a private island in Turks and Caicos when Persephone finally quiets down. I find it harder to notice the absence of sound. Especially when I’m wearing a truly magnificent pair of headphones that drown out the sound of her muffled struggles.
After she was less than compliant during the boarding process, I ordered her gagged.
But eventually I sip my whiskey cocktail and I notice that the stewardess’s posture is less tense. For the first part of the flight, Persephone begged the attendant to do something to help her. Told her personal details, like her full name and that she has a brother that will miss her.
Trying to make herself more memorable, I would guess. And once I had Persephone gagged, the stewardess only seemed even more frightened.
But now she flicks me a worried little smile as she refills my drink. So I take off the headphones. Persephone doesn’t make a sound. All I can hear is the faint clink of the glasses on the stewardess’s tray as she retreats.
Blessedly, all that is left is silence. Standing up, I turn and walk to the back of the plane.
Persephone is still right where I left her, tied and bound. Her eyes are closed, her dark eyebrows delicately arched and her rimmed lashes lying still against her heart shaped face. Her dark head has fallen to the side and her long, raven locks move ever so gently when the plane bumps. She has devilish, pouty lips and a button nose that make her appear more innocent than she should dare to look.
I can’t make heads or tails out of the bulky sweater she’s wearing. But I know that despite the dynamite of her theatrics earlier, she’s just over five feet tall.
All that fuss. Yet here she is now, sleeping. There is something about her mouth that’s so fucking alluring. I rub the scar that peeks out of my left sleeve, my left eye twitching just a little. It takes me a minute to realize that the alien feeling inside my chest is something akin to desire.
Strange. I almost never feel such wasteful emotions. The lass is a siren, no doubt about it. But the fact that I’m moved by her innocence is… puzzling.
Why should I care about her in the slightest?
She stirs, waking gradually. I sit down in the seat across from her, watching her face closely.
She makes a soft sound against her gag. Then she looks up and startles, seeing me. She pushes up in her seat, glaring at me.
I purse my lips. “If ye promise not to scream and carry on, I can take the gag out of yer mouth.”
She looks at me for a second, taking my measure. Then she nods once.
I arch a brow. “Ye promise?”
She nods again. I rise and cross the cramped space, removing the balled up tie from her mouth. She glares at me again, working her mouth and tongue.
Her first question is pointed and unexpected. “Constantine sent you?”