Reznik? The blast from the past locked every muscle in Charity’s body tight. That wasn’t the name she expected, but maybe, just maybe she should have.
‘I see you know the name.’ The razor edge of Ruin’s statement was anything but casual.
‘You could say that.’ Dammit, she needed to remember he was no-one’s fool. Rubbing her arms against a sudden chill, she made her way around the end of Simon’s mattress. Memories better left alone crowded close, threatening to set her mind into a tailspin. Nervous energy coursed through her, forcing her to move. She paced the confines of the room, unable to still despite the watching eyes of the too perceptive man and his friend. Her mind clicked through what she knew of Reznik, but no matter how she tried, she couldn’t make the pieces work. Finally, she stopped in front of Ruin. ‘What else did the Raider say?’
One dark brow rose. ‘Why?’
‘Because this job doesn’t fit Reznik’s style.’
‘Care to elaborate?’ The barely disguised order came from Simon, who despite his wan complexion, was managing a formidable glower.
Because she could see the signs of pain he was trying to hide and didn’t want to watch all her work go to waste, she didn’t take offence at his tone. ‘Reznik is from New Seattle. He’s a scum-sucking leech who gets off on playing king of the criminal element. However, he stays in the city.’ Something she knew all too well, considering how often she tried to lure him outside the protection of his little kingdom with no luck. ‘Says they provide more opportunities.’ She sneered the last word. ‘It would take a shit-ton of incentive to get him to wander outside of New Seattle. Not only is he perfectly content where he is, but he’s well-protected.’ On levels she was barely scratching the surface of all these years later. ‘What could he possibly gain by Crane’s death?’ She stared at Ruin, who rose to his feet during her little rant.
‘If he likes playing king, then it’s all about power, isn’t it?’ He studied her from inches away, his gaze shuttered and dark, no hint of what he was thinking.
‘Even if he had the resources to pull it off, screwing with the supply lines is a stupid move,’ she snapped. ‘In the hierarchy of power, Reznik would need a ladder to touch Crane’s boots.’
Ruin’s voice was flat and icy. ‘How is it you know so much about Reznik?’
Refusing to bow to his indomitable presence, she closed the small gap between them, going toe to toe with the coldly angry Vulture. ‘Because it’s my job.’
His lips curved, but his smile was far from friendly. ‘Really?’
Wherever he was trying to lead her, she didn’t want to go, but she still answered, ‘Yeah, really.’
He shook his head and leant in close. ‘Colour me cynical, but I have a better answer. You’ve got a personal link with him.’ There was no stopping her instinctive flinch or the satisfied gleam in his eyes when he caught it. ‘Oh yeah, you’ve got a hard-on for Reznik,’ he murmured. ‘What’d he do?’ A cruel light flared to life in his amber eyes, and within the confines of his closely trimmed beard his lip curled. ‘You a woman scorned, Charity?’
The unexpected accusation brought her up short. ‘Excuse me?’
‘C’mon, sugar. One of the most sure-fire ways of turning a woman rabid is to trade her in for a newer model. Is that what happened?’
She blinked and fought the urge to slap the arrogance off his face, right after she introduced his balls to her knee. Still, that wasn’t her best move. At least not yet. Instead, she settled for popping his overinflated ego with a piece of the truth. ‘No, dickhead, he murdered my parents.’
That rocked Ruin back on his heels. ‘Say again?’
Huffing out a breath, she decided to elaborate. It wasn’t as if her past was some deep dark secret. ‘My parents were grifters, damn good ones. Normally, they’d have no problems steering clear of trouble. They targeted the wealthy since the pickings were good, but they ran a grift on the wrong man. When he figured out their con, he reached out to a friend of his. Unbeknownst to my folks, that friend was Reznik, who wasn’t happy that one of his buddies got screwed by some run of the mill thieves, especially if they weren’t paying into his coffers.’ Off balance with the unexpected turn of events, the door on her memories cracked, releasing a bitterness grown brilliant with age. ‘He made an example of them, displaying his displeasure in bloody terms far and wide in case others were stupid enough to consider freelancing in what he considered his territory.’
For a moment the only sounds were the dance of the fire behind them, then Simon cut in with a soft, ‘You don’t strike me as the forgiving type, Charity.’
Peering around Ruin, she gave Simon a toothy grin. ‘I’m not, but I’m also not stupid.’
‘So you let him walk away?’
Maybe he didn’t mean to twist the knife in her soul, but it still shredded. ‘A fifteen-year-old street rat would end up smeared under Reznik’s heel. Better to bide my time.’ And build her resources, which weren’t quite up to par with Reznik’s current playing field. But it wouldn’t be long before that changed, not if things continued as planned. She was careful not to let that thought gain too much strength. Ruin was too damn perceptive, and she was juggling enough balls she couldn’t afford to let one drop.
Ruin crossed his arms over his chest. ‘Bide your time until when?’
Instead of answering she mimicked his posture. ‘Uh-uh, your turn. I’m guessing Reznik’s name came up when you were playing with your chew toy.’ She didn’t wait for any acknowledgement on her guess, before pressing forward. ‘In my experience, if someone’s itching to share a name, chances are pretty damn good it’s not the right name. How sure are you that you’re not being played?’
The expression on his face was a weird cross between astonishment and offended dignity.
On the mattress, Simon gave a wheezy chuckle. ‘Ruin, I do believe she doubts your interrogation skills.’
Ignoring his friend, Ruin kept his attention on her. ‘When you show a man his intestines darlin’, he gets highly motivated not to lie. In fact, he tends to spill his guts.’ His grin was all teeth. ‘Pun intended.’ His grin faded, replaced by implacable lines. ‘The Raider was more than willing to share. Seems a few months back Reznik arrived in Vegas with four of his buddies in tow. The Raiders mistakenly thought them easy marks. After Tank’s head, and only his head, showed up decorating the Tower, it didn’t take them long to figure out who was the bigger predator.’
She went through Vegas once, which was more than enough to sour her on the experience. It was crawling with Raiders, led by a giant bruiser known as Tank. Their goal? Terrorise anyone foolish enough to try their luck at passing through. The Raiders made their nests in the crumbling remains of what one old trekker called the Strip. He’d shown her a tattered postcard filled with light-encrusted buildings that boggled the mind. Especially when compared to the desert-gnawed bones of what remained. It was the strangest thing to recognise the Tower on the faded card. When she asked the trekker, he named it Eiffel, something to do with Paris, which lay worlds away on the other side of the ocean in some country she’d never see.
Ruin wasn’t finished sharing. ‘Once Reznik’s posse managed to get the Raiders’ attention, he made them an offer.’
Unable to resist her curiosity, she nudged, ‘What kind of offer?’
Ruin grimaced. ‘We didn’t get that far.’
From the floor, Simon snorted, then cut off a moan, drawing their attention. ‘What a surprise.’
Taking in the wounded man’s drawn face and lips lined white from pain, Charity dropped her arms and shook her head. ‘Time for another painkiller.’ Scanning the floor near the mattress, she spotted the edge of the kit peeking out from behind Ruin. She stepped forward, unsurprised when Ruin tensed. Instead of poking at him, she simply put a hand on his hip and gave a little push. He moved back without comment. Crouched next to the kit, she found the last of the painkillers and looked around for the cup. If Simon took a turn for the worse in the next few hours, she’d be forced to use her stash of Mary Jane in her saddlebag. It wouldn’t do a thing for a fever, but it would help dull the pain.
Ruin crowded in behind her, and the heat of him blanketed her spine and shoulders as he reached around her and retrieved the cup near Simon’s saddle pillow. She handed Simon the pills as the splash of water being poured came from behind her. Simon popped the pills in his mouth with a grimace, then accepted the half-filled cup Ruin offered.
She settled cross-legged on the floor, resting her arms on the mattress. At her side, Ruin did the same. When Simon handed back the empty cup, she set it aside. Knowing it wouldn’t be long before exhaustion sucked Simon under, she asked, ‘The kids you rescued, are they still at Pebble Creek?’
Simon nodded. ‘We have them safely tucked away. Gives them a chance to recover.’
Remembering the stern-faced female in charge of the wounded back at Pebble Creek, she made a guess at whose capable hands was doing the tucking. ‘Mandy?’
‘You met her?’
‘Briefly.’ Something tight in her chest loosened, not relief, but something close to it. ‘If I can, I’d like to talk to the kids when we get back.’
Next to her Ruin said, ‘If you’re expecting information from them, it’s a long shot.’
‘What he said,’ Simon added, his words starting to slur. ‘Already tried.’
Propping her chin on her palm, she stared over Simon’s torso and into the fire. ‘Not looking for information, just want to see if one of them is Tabby.’ Of course, if she found the girl in the traumatised group, what then? Taking her all the way back to Boulder meant leaving the Raiders to Ruin, and by extension the Vultures. Not something she was prepared to do because if Reznik was behind this, this might be her chance at payback. Not that dealing with Reznik was completely personal, not anymore. More like a mix of business and sadistic pleasure.
‘Might not be her.’ Simon’s voice carried a hint of kindness.
A lump settled in her throat. Swallowing past it, she murmured, ‘I know.’
‘If your girl is there—’ Ruin’s deep voice drew her attention, ‘—what’s next?’
She turned her head and held his gaze. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You giving up your piece of Reznik?’ There was no sign of judgement in his posture or voice.
She frowned. ‘Who said I was giving up anything?’
He didn’t answer, just continued to watch her in that disconcerting way of his.
‘If she’s with Mandy, I’ll leave her there until this mess gets straightened out. If,’ she stressed as guilt battled with duty while vengeance waited on the sidelines, ‘we prove Reznik’s behind the kids’ kidnapping and Crane’s death, I intend to get my piece, but I’m not completely greedy. I’ll make sure there’s something left for you and your friends.’
‘Friends?’
His bland tone didn’t fool her. Wearily shaking her head, she went back to staring at the fire. ‘With the shape he’s in, we can’t move Simon, but I’m not stupid enough to believe the other Vultures aren’t winging their way to you as we speak.’
From her right came Simon’s mumbled, ‘I can make it down the mountain.’
Stifling her sigh at the evidence of yet another fragile male ego, she simply turned her head and stared him down. Based on the fact that his one good eyelid was barely holding steady at half-mast, the painkillers were finally kicking in. When it fluttered closed and didn’t lift, she turned away, letting him sleep. Without Ruin poking at her or Simon to tend to, the aches and pains she managed to ignore to this point made a comeback. Her shoulder ached like a bitch, her eyes were gritty with exhaustion, and every muscle begged for sleep. Unfortunately, she needed to stay awake, because chances were high now that his body was more worried about healing than breathing, Simon would spike a fever.
The second time her head slipped from her palm and she caught herself before face-planting, warm, firm fingers tunnelled through her hair, before pressing gently, but firmly. ‘Sleep, Charity, I got this.’
‘Just need a couple hours,’ she mumbled, blinking rapidly.
‘Then take them. If I need you, I’ll wake you.’
The ring of truth in his voice allowed the last vestiges of her wariness to loosen. For now, he would watch over Simon, and by extension, her. Giving in to Ruin’s urging, she shifted until she could curl against the mattress’ edge on her good shoulder.
Lying there, her mind drifted as she studied the man next to her. With the fire behind him, his face was half-hidden in the flickering shadows. It was mesmerising how the light played over his hair, picking up strands of gold mixed in with the dark browns and blacks as it brushed his shoulders. His neatly trimmed beard was more black than brown, but it emphasised the strong lines of his jaw. The shadows brushing along the straight blade of his nose left half of his face in murky darkness. The unusual amber colouring of his eyes as he watched her watch him captured her. Unable to break their startling intense connection, her pulse thickened as lust wound its way through her exhausted body. ‘You’re dangerous.’ The unchecked truth slipped out without warning.
‘Very.’ The low rumble of his voice merged with the quiet night. ‘But so are you.’
For some reason, his observation made her happy. ‘Yes, I am. Does that worry you?’
His slow, sexy smile wormed its way below her lazy lust. ‘Nah.’ He reached out and traced the side of her face with his finger, before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She didn’t fight the chills racing over her skin at the strangely intimate touch. He leant over, closing in. His shoulders blocked out the light, leaving them stranded in shadows and unspoken expectations. ‘I’ve always enjoyed a little danger.’ His gaze drifted over her face, and his finger slowly, too slowly, traced its way to her chin.
She wasn’t a naive daisy bell, but she was familiar enough with her body to know the difference between adrenaline-laced lust and something altogether different. This was a subtle combination of both.
‘Be careful,’ she murmured, lifting her chin at his gentle nudge. ‘Don’t underestimate me.’
He closed the distance between them, and with his lips a breath away, whispered, ‘Never.’ Then he kissed her.
It wasn’t the hurricane of need and desire she expected. Instead, it was slow heat and slumberous want. A soft touch of lips, followed by a gentle glide of his tongue seeking permission. Permission she granted as she met him, stroke for exploratory stroke. They took time learning each other’s taste in lingering tangles. There was a faint hint of mint leaves under the uniquely masculine taste, a cool counterpoint to the heat. The play of light changed as he leant closer, forcing her to adjust. She circled his neck with an arm, trying to bring him closer. The touch on her chin changed until he was cradling her face in his palms. His warmth seeped under her skin, turning her lust to hunger. Her soft moan escaped as need began to overwhelm the strange dreamlike kiss.
As if that was the sound he was waiting for, his kiss turned carnal, darker, more demanding. Instead of turning her off, his desire ignited a matching craving. Lost in the heat, she didn’t realise he managed to press her back against the mattress’s edge until he moved from her mouth to her neck. The combination of his lips and beard over her tendons left a shivery heat behind.
She arched into the sensation only to gasp as her nipples pressed against the solid muscles of his chest, despite the thin barriers of their shirts. Her hands curled into his shoulders as he leant above her. His hand drifted to her chest, cupping and shaping her until her breasts ached for more. When he found a particularly sensitive spot where her shoulder and neck met, she couldn’t stifle her, ‘Oh god.’
With one last, torturous swipe of wicked fingers over her hard nipples, he lifted his head, his eyes glittering with lust, his lips swollen from bites she couldn’t remember giving. ‘Like I said—’ his voice was rough, ‘—dangerous.’