“Do you remember touching the chain Gabriel sent over?”
“Vaguely. Hey, you’re holding me in your arms.”
“I am.” Between the power surge and the fact that she’d recently fed him, his desire for her rose once more.
His gaze fell to her lips and images suddenly filled his mind, of taking her to bed and showing her that he really knew his way around a woman’s body, being generous with her the way she’d been giving up her blood for him.
Despite their recent agreement to keep things simple, if they’d been alone, he would have said exactly those words to her.
But they weren’t alone and Rumy was grinning at him in that lascivious way of his. Worse, Claire was now rubbing Lucian’s pec with a sensual swirl that made him think if she dipped any lower and touched his nipple, he wouldn’t be responsible for the consequences.
He knew by the shared chains that she was feeling it, too.
Desire. Pure desire.
And all because she’d touched the double-chain.
How hard are you?
Oh, God, Claire’s voice in his head really didn’t help, so he responded in kind. How wet are you?
Enough to handle what you’ve got. Her voice sounded loose and needy inside his head.
We’re both feeling too much right now. Must be because of the double-chain.
Maybe. Or maybe it’s just you, Claire. And how much I want you.
Aloud, he said, “Rumy, would you give us a minute and turn off your damn security cameras.”
“You got it, boss.”
The moment he left, Lucian lowered Claire to her feet, then turned her in his arms, slanting a kiss over her waiting mouth.
In turn, she grabbed hold of him, her fingers digging into the muscles of his arms, shoulders, back, whatever she could reach and fondle.
His hands went straight to her bottom. He cupped her and pulled her against him, grinding into her. His tongue drove in and out of her mouth, mimicking what he wanted to be doing to her.
When she suckled his tongue, he groaned.
Finally he pulled back, breathing hard. Her lips were swollen, her light-brown eyes dilated. His gaze drifted over her face, memorizing her features that, because of the damn chains, seemed to have gained critical, life-altering importance to him in only a night and a half.
He wasn’t sure what to say, but he would never forget this moment, her beauty, her long wavy auburn hair, her creamy skin, the small indentation in her chin, the laughter in her soft, light-brown eyes.
She caressed his face. “You’re driving me crazy, you know.”
“Same here.”
He’d smiled more than usual in the past few hours. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done that. Even with his brothers, smiling was rare. Marius had been able to make him smile, and on the rare occasion to laugh until his sides ached.
His thoughts fell hard to that other reality: Marius.
Now dead.
What is it, Lucian?
Just thinking about Marius. My brother is gone. Sometimes it hits me hard. I was thinking of him just now.
She hugged him, and he returned the embrace.
After a minute of just holding her, and once his body had calmed the hell down, he brought Rumy back in.
At the same time, the landline on Rumy’s desk rang. He crossed the room to answer it, but after a moment he turned in Lucian’s direction, frowning. “What’s her name, the one asking about Zoey?”
“Zoey?” Claire’s voice sounded small in the room. She glanced at Lucian and instinctively drew closer to him. He took her hand, holding it tight.
Rumy kept nodding. “Repeat that last bit.” He paused. “Okay. And you’re sure they’re from a club in Santa Fe? What did you call it? The Prickly Pear?”
Lucian heard a sharp intake of breath from beside him. “Oh, God, no,” Claire murmured.
Rumy pressed two fingers to his temple, concentrating hard. “Tell me where they’re at again?” Another pause, then, “Thanks, Sam. I owe you one.”
Lucian leaned close to Claire. “You were abducted from that club, weren’t you?”
“Yes. This does not sound good.”
Rumy settled the phone on its cradle. “Claire, were you taken from The Prickly Pear?”
“I was.”
“Shit. A vampire known to have connections in Daniel’s sex-slave operation owns that club. But one of my informants, who works at the Hawaiian cavern system, said a couple of girls arrived recently and they’ve been asking about Zoey and you. They said they were from Santa Fe. It can’t be a coincidence. Anyway, this system is a suspected trafficking center.”
Lucian lifted a hand. “But the disguising effects there are some of the most powerful I’ve ever seen. We could never break through to see what was going on, because an Ancestral created the fields.”
“Which means I might be able to help.” Claire squeezed Lucian’s hand.
Rumy nodded. “That’s what I’m hoping. The owners of the pineapple-exporting firm are a couple of major slimeballs. I’m pretty sure they paid the Ancestral a huge fee—and maybe a percentage of their trafficking business—to get that level of protection and secrecy. Anyway, the informant talked to one of the guards about half an hour ago and here we are.”
“What are their names? The girls who were taken, I mean.” Claire squeezed Lucian’s hand.
“Amber and Tracy. Do you know either of them? Apparently Amber has straight black hair almost to her waist, if that’s any help.”
“Oh, God.”
Lucian felt Claire’s sudden horror and wasn’t surprised, as he glanced down at her, to find that she was trembling.
Who is she? Who’s Amber?
Claire turned toward him slightly. “Amber is Zoey’s younger sister. Lucian? Is it possible vampires just kidnapped Zoey’s sister?”
Lucian frowned. “It’s possible, especially if she’d been hunting for information about Zoey.”
“Doing her own investigation.”
“And asking the wrong people.”
“But what are we going to do?”
* * *
Claire still held Lucian’s hand. She had never felt so solemn in her life. This simple phone call to Rumy, a communication from halfway around the world, had just added a new layer of complexity. Not only was someone she knew in trouble, but the whole situation reminded her yet again of the dark forces she and Lucian fought.
She knew Amber well, because she’d practically lived at Zoey’s house for over a decade and had even babysat Amber when she was a kid. Right now, she had to be eighteen, a very tender age for most young women.