Boston Avant-Garde 5: Bellicoso (13 page)

“Look.” Lars was really laying on the forced calm. “I just don’t want you mixed up in illegal stuff. You have enough problems as it is.”

“I do have problems,” Selena agreed. “My life has been completely destroyed. My now ex-husband—who had to be blackmailed into signing papers, by the way—tried to fuck a musician at our wedding reception. This after he’d already fucked a waitress in order to win a bet with his groomsman about who could bang the most chicks at the reception. Then we got into a very public fight where I threw cake at him, only to have some asshole wedding guest upload the video to YouTube.”

“That’s just fluff, love.”

It didn’t feel like fluff. “The clip made it onto a list of the top ten horrible weddings, Lars. Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to be out with Mom and have people mention that? I stopped leaving the house just so I didn’t have to hear them laugh at me.”

Lars swung the car into the parking garage at Triptych. The old brick building had once been the parish school. When the renovations took place, the club owner solved the longtime parking issues by making the school into a parking garage. Pricey, most definitely, but it had earned the club major goodwill points with the community. Worthwhile when you were asking them to look the other way on a lot of business practices.

Lars pulled the brake and put the car in first gear. “How about we forget about everything and go have a good time? I promise not to bitch about your new friends, and you promise not to brag about your Internet fame?”

She pulled her wrap off and threw it into the backseat. “Fine, but you’re buying the first round of drinks.”

Chapter Twelve

Demon paced the narrow walkway that traversed the length of what used to be the nave and now housed Triptych’s main dance floor. A stage occupied the apse, and there were bars in both transepts. He’d heard a few of their patrons make horrified comments about the blasphemous nature of the setup. Having been raised without the hang-ups that accompanied religious training, Demon thought it worked nicely.

As far as he was concerned, the galleries provided in the original architecture were damned convenient. They’d been built for maintenance but worked well for observing the hordes of people spinning and gyrating to the sounds of the hard-rock band that had taken the stage only minutes before. A line stretched halfway around the block despite the snow, and life was good.

Or it would be when Selena put in an appearance. He had no doubt she would. Her curiosity would demand it. She’d only had a taste of what Malachi had to offer, and he’d been able to sense her frustration as if she’d shouted it from the rooftops.

Demon’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He kept his peripheral vision on the floor thirty feet below and pulled his phone out to view the new text. He glanced down to read Lucas’s message. Apparently Seraph had checked into the Trump Tower Hotel for two nights. Mei-ling was with her.

Demon texted Lucas a quick confirmation and then slipped the phone back into the hip pocket of his jeans. The good news? Seraph was out of their hair for at least twenty-four hours. The bad news? She was up to something she didn’t want him to know about. Throwing Mei-ling into the picture only made things more serious.

As Sun Tzu would say, “He who knows when he can fight and when he cannot fight, will be victorious.”

There was nothing to be done about Seraph right now. Demon was a patient man. He’d been waiting years for karma to right itself. If it were only his life hanging in the balance, he would have ended Seraph and to hell with the consequences. Risking Malachi and Allie wasn’t an option. The time had to be right, like a game of chess played on a board so big it encompassed the world.

A splash of bright pink drew him from the dark direction of his thoughts. He smiled in spite of himself, unable to quell the inexplicable response of his mind and body to the blonde seductress who pushed her way onto Triptych’s dance floor.

Her cousin had come along, trailing in her wake as she navigated the writhing mass of humanity on a track toward the Underground. Demon gazed at the bouncers stationed at wide intervals around the room. They were oblivious to the wolf invading their territory. Of course this was partly because their positions on ground level didn’t afford them much of a view.

Demon grabbed the carved balustrade and jumped up to gain a better vantage point. Balanced on the narrow rail, he walked to an alcove created by the joining of the nave to the south transept. From here it was possible to see the second level of security situated on the balcony below his position. Their job was to spot possible conflicts on the ground and relay the information to the bouncers.

Had the staff been part of Malachi’s Underground dungeon master squad, they would have sniffed out the cop immediately and ejected him from the club. The security on the upper level was a little more lax—a condition Demon wasn’t going to tamper with just yet. He was curious what angle Lars Aasen was working. Was he simply watching out for his cousin? Or was he using her to gain entrance to the Underground?

Demon shifted on the stone barrier, the soles of his combat boots flexing as they gripped the surface. The dizzying view wasn’t one many could tolerate. He’d tried to station another guard up here at one time, only to discover none of them could abide being suspended above a three-story drop with no safety harness.

He gauged the distance between his position and the stonework of the arched entrance to the transept. Leaping lightly, he found familiar hand- and footholds and began working his way quickly to the floor.

SELENA PUT ON her the haughtiest expression, the one that had gotten her into every exclusive gathering given by Boston’s most prominent families. “I’m Malachi’s guest. Certainly that’s enough credentials just to get in.”

The man standing with his arms crossed over his broad chest gave her a lingering gaze from ankles to tits. “We’ve got rules for a reason, honey. You want in? You find someone with a pass.”

“You’re telling me I need a season pass? This is hardly an amusement park.” Selena tossed her head to make her hair settle against her bare shoulder. If the guy wanted to stare, she’d give him something to stare at.

“It’s not a country club either, princess.” The obtuse man wasn’t going to budge. “No pass, no entry.”

Selena’s temper was about to boil over. It was cold and damp in the stairwell, and she was tired of standing here like a loser waiting in line. She’d walked right past this same idiot not two nights ago when she and James What’s His Name had descended the steps and presented a pass to get through the heavy oak doors. Now this troll was going to act like he didn’t recognize her? Well, he wasn’t actually a troll. His obvious Native American heritage had given him too much natural beauty for that. Still, he could damn well let them in. She’d opened her mouth to rip him a new one when Lars touched her arm to shut her up.

“Come on, man.” Lars kept his tone congenial. “Every club needs another pretty piece of ass to liven up the scenery.”

The bouncer’s heated gaze raked Lars from head to toe. “That’s her excuse. Is it yours too?”

“Hey, if I’m your type, we can discuss it. Not usually my thing, but I’m flexible.” Lars didn’t seem bothered by the other man’s regard. Working in a place like Triptych, the bouncer had probably been propositioned more than once. He certainly didn’t seem to mind it from Lars.

Suddenly the bouncer came to attention, gaze locked on someone behind them. Selena’s neck tingled. The sensation danced down her spine and brought her pussy to full awareness. There was no question who had come to investigate her and Lars’s attempt to enter the Underground. She had no idea how this was going to turn out.

“Can I be of assistance, Owen?” Yaojing Yen didn’t have to shout to be heard over the music booming down the stairs from the main floor.

“The usual.” The bouncer nodded toward Lars and Selena. “They don’t have a pass, but they’ve been down before and want in again. No need to take your time with it. I’ll call a few of the bouncers and have them escorted out.”

Selena might have protested had she not been stuck trying to process Owen’s words.
Lars
had been down there before? She’d known the door troll recognized her. She hadn’t dreamed he’d known Lars too. What was her cousin into? He’d supposedly been out of the country for years.

The door behind Owen swung open, and Malachi stepped out. Thanks to Yen’s powerful presence Selena’s body had already been running on high. Adding Malachi to the mix jolted her system like pure pleasure unleashed. He looked even better than he had the first time she’d met him. Silky dark hair framed his strong face, and those piercing gray eyes cut straight through her.

She squeezed her thighs together beneath the short hem of her dress. Her pussy felt swollen and achy. The satin panties intensified the moist heat building in her fiery center. The pressure between her legs made her nipples bead into hard little points, a fact that wasn’t at all hidden by the thin material of her skimpy outfit.

Malachi didn’t turn from his obvious perusal of her body. “I’ll take her, Owen. The guy stays here.”

“The hell I will,” Lars snarled.

Selena touched his arm. “I’ll be fine. Really. I can catch a cab later.”

“To Danvers?”

“Back to Brookline if I have to. I don’t care.” She realized it was true. She was ready to risk the possibility of spending a night under her mother’s roof for one more chance to experience what Malachi had to offer. She understood why Lars thought she was crazy, but she couldn’t explain why she trusted a man she hardly knew. Malachi had already passed up more than one chance to cause her harm. In fact, he’d done the opposite. She’d known him a fraction of the time she’d known Jackson, and yet Malachi was more trustworthy than her ex had ever been.

Lars made one last attempt. “Selena…”

Malachi held out his hand, one eyebrow lifted in question. She had to smother a moan when she took it. The instant shock was so intense it was almost humiliating. She was stronger than that. She had to be.

She had one last coherent thought. “Don’t forget to call Mattie and tell her I’m fine.”

As she cast a look over her shoulder at Lars, Selena caught Yen staring. The fringe of hair covered his right eye completely, leaving the other to gleam like a dark shard of glass. She thought of asking him to come along. Playing Malachi’s games would be delectable. Doing so while Yen watched would have been erotic beyond endurance. The only thing she had to figure out was how to get what she wanted without it blowing up in her face.

DEMON HID A smile as Selena’s gaze drank him in. Even while being bold, she showed her submissive side. Her gaze barely touched his, her eyes sweeping his frame before she hooded them beneath her thick lashes. He could smell her arousal, sense it in his body’s response. There was no doubt she wanted Malachi so bad she could taste it, yet she was determined to pretend mild interest.

“I’m not letting you go down there alone.” Lars started to reach for Selena, but the door had already closed behind her.

He lunged, and Owen moved to block his path. Demon wondered if he was going to have to subdue the guy or if Lars would be willing to listen. “You can either find yourself on the curb outside, or you and I can have a civil conversation.”

“You want me to just leave Selena down there with those animals?” Lars pushed his fingers through his hair, looking nearly panicked.

“You and I both know she was going down there with or without you tonight anyway.” Demon observed Lars’s behavior with interest. “At least this way she’s with the one man nobody would dare challenge.”

“Sorry, that doesn’t help me any.”

Demon gestured for Lars to follow him. He walked ahead, sensing rather than seeing the other man climb the stairs and begin threading his way through the crowd as they headed toward one of the smaller rooms kept for more intimate gatherings.

In another life the room had housed confessionals, yet another idiosyncrasy of Triptych. Demon closed the door and took a seat on one of the richly brocaded chairs situated into a small conversation area.

A thick rug softened the hard stone floor, drapes and tapestries doing the same for the austere walls. The space had seen more than its fair share of deals. There was no reason it couldn’t serve the same purpose again.

Demon didn’t bother with formalities. “Normally I have law enforcement personnel ejected as soon as they walk through the door.”

Lars took the opposite chair. “Why change your habits now?”

It was refreshing not to have to wade through half a dozen denials, redirects, or outright lies. “I’m still trying to decide if Selena knows what you are, or if you’re simply using her to get at something in the Underground.”

“Selena doesn’t know anything,” Lars said quickly. “It was a coincidence that her quest for self-destruction happened to coincide with my investigation. Whatever it is you have planned for her, let her go instead. I’ll take her home and convince her never to come back.”

It sounded so simple—until Demon tried to reconcile the deep ties he felt to this woman he’d never fucked. They’d barely spoken, but something had happened the night Malachi gave her a taste of what bondage could be. The effect she’d had on Malachi had translated itself to Demon in some irrevocable way. He had no intention of letting Selena leave anytime soon. If he could get her out of his system, out of
their
system, then Lars could have her with his blessing.

“So, who are you?” Demon raked his gaze over the trappings of Lars’s rich-playboy image. “Other than the spoiled society brat, of course.”

“Interpol.”

Possibilities began forming in Demon’s mind, a pattern of events leading in a direction he didn’t want to contemplate.

“We have quite the file on you, Yaojing Yen.” Lars looked a tad smug. “Born in Canton Province, parents dead, raised by your grandfather who also died when you were sixteen. Then you joined your uncle’s crime syndicate in China, and things got really interesting.”

It was no surprise to Demon that Interpol had his personal information. He had always figured they would arrest him when they were ready. “Is that so?”