Sins of the Flesh

The concierge laughed and nodded. “That’s exactly how my sister talks to me.”


“Sibling rivalry,” Mal offered. But his gaze never left Calliope’s face. He could almost hear the wheels turning in her brain as she planned and plotted and tried to figure an angle that would get her out of here without bringing him along. Fat chance. He’d underestimated her once tonight. He wasn’t the sort to repeat his mistakes.

“My car’s around the corner,” he said. “You coming along for the ride, sis, or you want me to take it from here?”

He was certain she understood the warning. Either she chose to accompany him, or he’d go without her. Her choice. But the rug, and Kuznetsov, would stay with him.

“You can carry the front.” Her tone was bland and even, her message clear. She wanted him in front of her where she could keep an eye on him.

“Nah.” With a grin, he lifted the back end of the carpet. “I’ve got your back, sis.”

The very idea of having her behind him made him antsy. She’d stabbed him. Bitten him. Swallowed his blood. Impaled him and pinned him to the damned wall. He had no desire to find out what other fun and games she had in mind.

Even though he’d gained possession of three of her lethal weapons, he couldn’t ignore the possibility that she might be hiding a fourth, though where she’d hide it in that skintight outfit, he had no clue.

“After you,” he said.

The corner of her mouth tipped up in the faintest hint of a smile. One that promised retribution and more of his blood.

And damn if the sight of it didn’t make him want to grin in return. This girl was danger wrapped in one hell of a pretty package. He had every intention of hanging on for the ride.

Without a word, she turned, hit the automatic open button and walked through the door. She was one cool player.

“Cat got your tongue?” he murmured once they were outside.

“I prefer to converse with higher life forms.”

He almost let that pass, almost made himself behave. But it was just too tempting. “Then maybe we should put your tongue to other uses.”

She stopped dead, glanced back at him over her shoulder, pinning him in a universe of crystal-cold green.

“Does everything always come so easy to you?”

He didn’t even pretend to misunderstand.

“Always.” The not-quite-a-lie slid from his lips like honey. In his early years, he’d known more than a fair share of abuse, hardship, despair. But that was a long time ago, and the more recent past had been far kinder. Which was why he preferred to dwell in the present.

He sent her a lecherous grin, letting his eyes tell the story his mind was conjuring. Imagination was a wonderful thing.

“Silly. Little. Boy,” she said, dismissing him as she turned and started walking once more.

There was no point taking offense or protesting the facts. Truth was, she reduced him to, if not quite a silly little boy, definitely a randy teenager.

He watched her hips sway in front of him and grinned, looking forward to the challenge of showing her that he was no boy. He was going to have Calliope Kane; that was a given. Have her under him, over him, beside him. He was going to have her every way he could. The only question was, how fast he would get her there?

Not too fast. Anticipation…the chase…those things were usually denied him. He meant to savor them now that they were being served up on a lovely, dark-haired, ivory-skinned, green-eyed platter. With legs that wouldn’t quit and a nice, perky ass that was so grabbable his hand was itching to do exactly that.

He stared at that ass, and again that odd sense of déjà vu hit him.

They were maybe ten feet clear of the door when her head snapped up and she glanced through the high, glass front into the lobby. He followed her gaze in time to see…nothing.

A few seconds later, two men staggered out of the elevator. He didn’t recognize them, but he knew their type, could sense the faint energy signature they threw off like a bad smell. Topworld grunts.

The way Calliope had just acted, she’d known they were coming before they arrived, which prompted him to ask, “Yours?”

“No. They work for Big Ralph.”

“Who works for…”

She ignored him.

He figured they were here for the same reason he was. Same reason Calliope was. Whatever Underworlder they worked for wanted a piece of Kuznetsov. The man was mighty popular.

Glancing back through the window, he noticed that both men looked a little worse for wear, which made him think they’d already tangled with Calliope Kane at some point this evening. He almost felt sorry for them.

Since she wasn’t into answering that question, he asked another. “Can you usually jump four stories?”

She kept walking without a word.