Kiss at Your Own Risk (4 page)

“Neither is flower arranging, but I find it soothing.” Christian reached Blaine. “What’s the magic word?”

Blaine grinned. “Freedom.” They were inches from it. Once they made it through that door, they were home free.

Christian’s eyes flashed with hope. “Freedom,” he repeated, his voice almost reverent.

“Let’s do it.” Blaine raised his arm and allowed a small window to form in the flames.

Christian dove through it, and then Blaine filled it in.

Taking advantage of Blaine’s distraction and his weakening shield, another schnoodemgon hit hard, and his claws raked across Blaine’s chest before it turned to toast. The gashes burned with cold, and Blaine looked down. The slashes had turned ice blue, and water was dripping from the wound. How about that, huh? It hadn’t been acid oozing from their claws. It had been
water.

Fire didn’t play well with Poland Spring’s finest, and neither did Blaine. An enema of ice water in his veins was freaking brilliant. Damn the bitch for being such a visionary killer.

His fire shield flickered, and then it was out.

“Get down!” Elijah reached the table, grabbed Trinity by the back of the neck, and flung her under the table so hard she crashed into the center table leg and split it with a loud crack. She rolled onto her side, biting her lip against the pain shooting through her shoulder. Oy. Shouldn’t at least some of her dad’s strength be dissipating now that he was almost three hundred years old?

Reina’s head popped down beneath the table. Her eyes danced with delight. “I smell death! Someone’s going to die!”

“Really?” Oh,
man.
Trinity scrambled to her knees. Possible shoulder dislocation was so trumped by dead people.

“We need to get her out of here,” Elijah said. “Reina! Get up here!”

“Oh…” Reina’s smile faded. “I
really
hope it’s not you that’s going to kill someone.” She disappeared from view, leaving only knobby knees and a short hemline behind.

“Thanks for that support.” Trinity threw the linen tablecloth out of her way and crawled out.

Her six foot six father was standing on her chair, spinning in circles as he scanned the restaurant.

Trinity rubbed her shoulder and tested her range of motion. Definite
Ow!
factor, but full mobility was a good thing. “What are you looking for?”

“Martin Lockfeed.”

Trinity froze mid-rotation. “
What?
”

Reina grabbed Trinity’s uninjured arm and pulled her to her feet. “Who’s Martin Lockfeed?”

“My first kiss.” Her first love. Only the fact that he’d moved away right after the smooch, before she’d realized she’d loved him, had kept him alive. At age fifteen, it took a bit to discern the difference between thinking a boy had cooties and being in love. But once he’d left… she’d sure figured out her feelings for him. She’d spent more than a few hours on the Internet trying to find him, and she’d never forgotten him.

Elijah wiped a clump of gray clay on his jeans. “Martin’s here.”

“What?” Trinity’s mouth went dry. “How do you know?”

Her dad shot her an impatient glance. “I drank his blood so I could track him. What do you think?”

Trinity blinked. “But drinking human blood is illegal.”

“So is murder.” Her dad went back to surveying the room. “Your mom and I spent a lot of money to get his family relocated so quickly, but I didn’t trust the boy, so I tapped a vein before he left. Just in case.”

“Excuse me, sir.” A tuxedo-clad
maitre d’
lightly brushed Elijah’s arm. “I’m afraid you’ll have to leave.”

“There!” Her dad pointed across the room, and Trinity whirled around.

She saw Martin right away. Nearly bald, he was wearing a black suit and a red bow tie. No wedding ring, but he was dining with an attractive woman in a dress that matched his crimson pocket handkerchief.

Pressure began to build in Trinity’s heart instantly. She closed her eyes and imagined a purifying glow filling her chest cavity.

“What are you doing?” Reina’s voice was right next to Trinity’s ear.

“Meditating.” But she couldn’t concentrate. All she could think about was Martin, less than a room away. Of his kiss. Of the way he’d come to her cheerleading tryouts and taken her out for ice cream after she’d crashed into the captain and been banned from ever setting foot on the field again. He’d been so sweet that day.

Okay. That was
not
the smartest memory to be having right now.

She tried to clear her mind. Empty it of anything but a white light. This was her opportunity to prove she could withstand the curse. To show herself she wasn’t the monster she was so afraid she was.

“Trinity!” Her dad yanked her so hard she had to grab a chair to keep from falling over. “Let’s go. We’ll head out the back entrance.”

“Yes, sir, that would be a good idea.” The
maitre d’
was hovering, and Trinity felt the heat from his presence.

Uh, oh. She shouldn’t be sensing him when he was still several feet away. Warily, Trinity opened her eyes. The room seemed so bright. The lights were glaring. Hypersensitivity to heat and light meant one thing: the curse was coming to the party.

Her body was tingling like there were thousands of beetles racing across her skin. She clenched her jaw. “I can do it—”

“Trin!” Reina was in front of her now, her face pinched with concern. “You have seven days! Don’t blow it now!”

“Losing the curse means nothing if I can’t prove I’m stronger than it.” Trinity twisted out of her father’s grasp and faced Martin. She allowed the fullness of his being to flow over her. Embraced her feelings of affection for him. Let his worth settle deep in her heart. “He’s a good man. He deserves to live. He’s a good man—”

A rainbow prism appeared over his heart. It was sparkling as if the sun was shining on it.

“Oh, man.” That was a really bad sign.

She stepped back, unable to rip her gaze away from the glittery diamond that was her guide. Her unerring map on how to kill him.

As she watched, a holographic image formed in front of Martin. The semi-transparent glittering prism took human form but it was amorphous, with neither a gender nor an identity. The 3-D figure slammed its palm onto Martin’s heart. A holographic Martin clutched his chest and fell to the ground. Dead.

Again and again it killed him, repeating the move like an endless loop of murder.

It was showing her exactly how to kill him. Martin had a weak heart. If she hit his chest with enough force, it would stop his heart. Instant death.

Her muscles began to contract, little convulsions as they flexed, preparing themselves for the assault. Thirty more seconds and it would be over for her. The black widow would be in residence.

She’d failed to contain it.

Tears filled her eyes and she lunged for her purse. She tore it open and yanked out her new present that she’d bought for herself yesterday. Her heart sank when she saw the black gun sitting beside her wallet. How had she fallen this low? But she had. There was no way to deny it.

The curse was building fast and strong, faster than she’d ever felt before. Another few seconds and she’d be gone. She gritted her teeth and pulled her last resort out of her handbag.

“A stun gun? Are you kidding?” Reina gaped at the small black weapon.

Trinity’s body was shaking now, and her ears were humming. She hit the power button and—

“No!” Reina ripped it out of her hand. “Do you have any idea what that will do to your childbearing capacity?”

“I can’t stop myself from killing him.” Trinity grabbed it back and aimed it at her leg. Then she hesitated, her finger frozen over the trigger. It felt so wrong to make this choice. To admit this kind of failure. To give up. But she could feel her blood burning in her veins, and she knew she was lost. She had no choice, not if she wanted Martin to live. She forced her fingers to close over the trigger—

“No!” Reina grabbed it and threw it across the room. “You’re not some crazed beast that has to be brought down by electric shock!”

“That was
such
a bad idea.” Trinity stared with horror as the gun skidded across the floor and slipped under a table at the far end of the room. On the other side of Martin. She’d have to walk right past him to get it. Her gaze flicked to Martin, and her heart began to thud. Like it was getting bigger and bigger. Oozing out between her ribs. “Martin,” she whispered. She took a step toward him. Then another. And ano—

“Trinity!” Elijah grabbed her shoulders. “Your eyes are sparkling. You’re seeing how to kill him, aren’t you?” He moved in front of her, cutting off her view of Martin and breaking the curse’s hold on her enough for her to realize what she was doing.

“A blow to the chest,” she whispered numbly. “He has a weak heart.”

Elijah swore.

“Get me out of here.” She hadn’t gotten any stronger than last time; she was just a puppet for murder. Five years of shoring herself up, and she’d accomplished nothing. She’d failed.

“Okay.” Elijah was all business now. “Reina, get her purse.”

“I’m on it.” Reina lunged for Trinity’s bag as Elijah turned her toward the back door. His grip was tight on her arm, but Trinity twisted around to take one last look at Martin.

He was staring right at her.

They locked gazes, and she saw the flash of recognition in his face.

And then he smiled.

Her body began to tremble, and her skin was burning as if it were on fire. She strained against her dad, trying to get closer to Martin. “Dad.” Her voice was strained, edged with violence. “I’m losing it.”

Martin stood up and waved. “Trinity! Trinity Harpswell!”

“Oh, hell.” Elijah pulled her toward the exit. “Reina! Help! The curse is making her too strong for me.”

Reina grabbed Trinity’s other arm.

Trinity gazed down at the hands trying to hold her. They blurred out of focus, and then her gaze sharpened. She could see every hair, every pore. She could smell the blueberry muffin her dad had had for breakfast. She could hear the blood rushing beneath their skin.

She smiled. The black widow was back. And it felt good.

Trinity pursed her lips and blew lightly on her dad’s fingers. Elijah flew backwards with a shout of protest and smashed into an eight-person table against the back wall.

Reina stared at her, her grip tight. “Don’t do it, Trinity. You need me.”

“I know.” And then she blew in Reina’s face.

Reina shrieked and went careening through the air. She landed on the table Elijah had hit. It collapsed and went down under a pile of screams and bodies and shattering china.

The crash of crystal and shouts made something deep inside Trinity pulse with satisfaction, and her cringe of horror was a mere shadow at the edges of her soul. She laughed softly, amused by her spineless aversion to doing what she wanted to do. The tenderhearted side of her would soon be gone. She would be free.

And Martin would be the one to liberate her. She turned toward him. “Martin,” she whispered. His smile was gone, his face shocked as he gazed at the carnage of the five-star restaurant. The horror in his expression touched something inside her, and a tenuous thought whispered through her mind.
I’m so sorry, Martin.

And then she launched herself at him.

***

The first wave of schnoodemgons hit Blaine so hard he felt like his body had been ripped apart. Teeth sank into his wrists and ankles, and then his assailants began to pull in four different directions. The air echoed with a high-pitched cackling that sounded suspiciously like the witch when she’d had too much champagne.

His joints began to stretch, and he realized they were going to pull until they literally ripped his limbs from his body. And since that wouldn’t kill him, that would kinda suck. Cross-stitching would be extremely difficult.

“On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate the pain you’re feeling right now?” Jarvis’s sword flashed past Blaine’s wrist, and four schnoodemgon heads went flying.

“Not even on the charts. Below zero.” Blaine was already stumbling to his feet by the time he hit the ground. His legs weren’t working particularly well, and water was still oozing from his pores.

Jarvis took out three more nasties with one sweep of his sword. “You’re leaking all over my new boots.”

“I needed a shower. I like to smell fresh and pretty for the girls.” Blaine sloshed toward the door and swore as more claws raked into him. “Go!”

As one, Jarvis and Blaine drove through the opening, and Nigel and Christian slammed the door shut. Blaine rolled onto his side as another beast attacked. For a moment, all four men went into battle mode to take out the dozens of creatures that had made it through the gate with them.

But three minutes of party time left five people and no mutant canines alive.

The hard edges of Christian’s scales began to melt into each other. For a split second, his body appeared to be a single piece of smooth, molten metal, and then in a rapid flash of movement too quick to decipher, the shiny material morphed into human flesh. Naked and bare, it took less than another three seconds for body hair to appear, leaving Christian with two days’ worth of stubble and dark hair perfectly coiffed. No matter what state Christian was in when he went scaly, he always returned the same: whiskers and gelled hair. Just how the witch liked her men. Christian immediately shoved his hand through his hair and messed it up. “Well, damn. I’m going to miss that kind of fun.”

“Almost makes me feel a little teary to be leaving.” Blaine touched his hip to make sure his cardboard carrier was still intact as he glanced around the room they’d never accessed before. Just as they’d reconned, it was a foyer, and stainless steel webbing laced through the glass window of the door. Blaine limped over and looked out.

Nothing to see but gray mist. Beyond the swirling clouds lay freedom. He wanted to slam his fist through the glass and get the hell out, but he couldn’t risk touching the metal. Now wasn’t the time to be getting handicapped by the allergic reaction to stainless steel that the witch had spliced into all the men. Blaine and his team had spent decades learning to work with it in secret. They’d taught themselves to tolerate it, but it was Christian who had developed the strongest talent for manipulating it. It was his skills they were banking on to break through the window.

“You sure there’s life out there?” Nigel was flexing his arms, trying to work the poison gas out of his muscles. “I’ll be pissed if we get out there and it’s just mist.”

“It’s a portal,” Blaine said. “The smoke hides her lair from others so no one can see it.” Once they left, they wouldn’t be able to find their way back, even if they wanted to.

Odds of that? Not so high.

Christian squatted beside his cargo and untied the bag. It fell away, revealing his girlfriend, Mari Hansen. Her brown hair was matted, her face was pale, and she was trembling. She grabbed for Christian and they hugged tightly for a moment. Blaine still didn’t get what Christian saw in her. The gal was too weak and fragile, and Blaine had a bad feeling she’d never survive on the outside.

But she’d won Christian’s heart when the witch had assigned her to monitor his demise after a lethal experiment. The minute Mari had walked in to start documenting his decay, something in Christian had woken up. He’d recovered fully, and for that, Blaine would always be grateful to Mari, even if she didn’t set quite right with him.