A Wicked Desire (Creatures of Darkness 3), page 13
According to Jamison, the airship was top-notch, high-end, exclusive to the very wealthy, which generally meant it would be like a playground to their every whim, physical or otherwise. A succubus should be right at home on such a ship.
So would he.
He pressed his foot down on the gas.
* * *
Cora stirred out of her daze as the car jolted forward, climbing in speed. She glanced at the odometer: one hundred and ten miles per hour. Her heart fired, not from fear, but from excitement. Ever since racing with Winston, she absolutely loved going fast, and wished she was the one driving. Even in the passenger seat, a thrill bloomed deep in her gut.
Knox cocked his head at her thundering pulse, but misunderstood. “I’ll not slow down. We’re making good time.”
“Good,” she said. “I don’t want you to.” She wanted him to go faster.
Freezing air whipped through the cabin, but she didn’t care. She breathed it in. She couldn’t recall the last time she had plain, harmless fun—she was so sick of the weight on her shoulders, the regret and responsibility pushing her down. Somehow she’d figure out how to deal with Knox. Till then, she decided she was going to make the best of this situation.
She tested her taut seatbelt. “Let’s see what this baby can really do.”
He sent her a sidelong glance. Then, slowly, his lips curled. He faced the road and hit the gas harder.
The engine roared angrily, but obeyed, eating up the highway. Out the window, the world flew by in a blur while wind swirled through her hair. She leaned her head back against the headrest and grinned at the teasing sensation along her neck.
Ahead, red tail lights taunted, but not for long. Knox shifted lanes and gearing up as he shot past the clunky white truck. The driver’s irritation blasted at them from behind, the horn dying off as they quickly extended the distance between them.
Cora couldn’t help but laugh.
Knox whipped his head around. “Are you an adrenaline junkie? Or is it danger that gets you off?”
She frowned, mentally slammed back into reality. They weren’t on this voyage for fun. This wasn’t a much-needed vacation. And no doubt Knox would make it unbearable at every turn. What exactly was he accusing her of, anyway? What was her sin now? Trying to eke out a small measure of enjoyment where she could? Daring to smile as Mace lay dying?
Her frown deepened, and she sighed as guilt assaulted her. She said and snuggled back into her seat, bringing her knees up, and glaring out the window.
She could feel him glance between her and the road, but he said nothing.
Finally she replied listlessly, “Neither.” She didn’t particularly care for danger. She’d lived too much of it to go looking for it. And adrenaline? Well, the two weren’t exactly mutually exclusive. To be an adrenaline junky, more often than not, you had to court danger. “I’m just eager to get there and have this trip over with.”
His dark tone startled her. “Already can’t wait to be rid of me?”
She turned, taking in the subtle tightness in his features. “Something like that.” Could he really blame her?
Without warning, he slammed on the brakes. Cora’s body shot forward. The seatbelt cutting across her front kept her from kissing the dashboard as the car fishtailed and came to a screeching halt.
“What the fuck!” she screeched when she caught her breath.
He cut off the engine.
“Why are you stopping?” She’d been worried about this. They were already two hours into the drive. If Knox wanted to, he could leave her on the side of the road. It could take her hours to catch a ride, get to a phone, and inform the others of her predicament. That is, if some psychopath didn’t try to pick her up.
“We have something to settle, don’t you think?”
Her heart sank, and she thought she caught his meaning. “You’re doing this now?”
“Can’t think of a better time.”
“I can. On the ship!”
“Then I’d have no leverage.”
“Of course you would. We still have to search the volcano and get back again. In time!” she stressed. “Plenty of leverage. Please, let’s go. You’ll make us miss takeoff!”
With dejection, she watched that old white truck putter past them.
“Then you’d better hurry and agree to my terms.”
She really didn’t want to ask. “What terms?”
“You’ll continue to do anything I want.”
“Already established,” she ground out impatiently.
“Everything I want.”
Meaning sex?
She’d known it would come to this, but had falsely hoped Knox had a little more integrity than to corner her like this. Stupid me. Oddly, she was more hurt than she’d expected.
“Waiting,” he said when she made no reply.
“Fine, you jackass! I’ll let you fuck me! Can we go now?” Her eyes watered with the shaking of her voice, but there was nothing to be done about it.
He was quiet for a time, staring at her with a confounded look. Then, at length, he turned the key and the engine roared to life. A few more seconds passed in suspended silence before he pulled back onto the road, as though he wasn’t quite sure if he’d won or not.
When they zoomed past the white truck a second time, she didn’t laugh.
Chapter 14
The harsh scent of diesel wafted in his nostrils as he filled the tank and watched the price tick higher. Oil was at an all-time high these days. No matter. They didn’t have much farther to go. He’d told this to Cora when she went inside to buy a map from the attendant inside. She hadn’t wanted to risk accidentally taking a wrong turn somewhere and end up having to backtrack. Many of the signs set up by earlier generations were either too rusted to read or were outright missing. With the government in flux, and the war-torn country slow to bounce back, fixing the signage was up to the states, cities, or townships that managed to keep a stable bureaucracy in place. Needless to say, not much was happening in the public sector.
Knox had his phone’s GPS, so none of that had been a problem, but Cora was insistent. “There are dead zones everywhere,” she’d reasoned lightly. “What if you lose service?”
She was in an unusually chipper mood, a pleasant surprise, so he hadn’t wanted to argue, handing her a few bucks to get what she needed. She’d peered into his wallet, then held out her hand, saying, “What about snacks? Need to keep up my energy.”
He’d rolled his eyes and handed her another set of bills.
“Could use some drinks, too.” She’d smiled.
He’d raised a brow and, after a small internal debate, relinquished the rest of his cash. Her grin had widened, giving him an odd kick to the gut that he didn’t want to examine too closely. Then she had disappeared inside.
The gas pump cut off with a thunk. He put the nozzle back in its slot and waited for Cora’s return.
The moon was still bright, but the sky was already starting to lighten. Soon they’d see it from a whole other angle, from high above the clouds.
After they’d come to their clipped agreement in the car, Knox was curious to find his satisfaction wasn’t complete. The way in which she had capitulated, with cold, grim acceptance, left him feeling like a cad.
How had she managed that?
Worse, whenever she had gazed his way, her rueful eyes had been filled with condemnation and betrayal.
Fuck it! He would get what he wanted. She could lament all she wanted. Wasn’t going to change a thing.
His only reprieve had been when she’d nodded off, lightly snoring with the passenger seat reclined. But the fact that he found it soothing to have her slumbering so close rankled. He’d kept glancing at her, simultaneously wanting her to remain asleep while wishing she’d wake up so he could argue with her further. That she had given in so easily didn’t sit well.
When she had finally awoke, he’d expected more ugly stares, but to his relief, she seemed to have reconciled the situation as she calmly observed they were low on gas and then unceremoniously declared she had to pee. He’d been wary of this new attitude, but he’d take it over her disdain.
She emerged from the gas station.
As she approached, his eyes were drawn to the sultry sway of her hips, hips that taunted him constantly with their tempting curves. She moved in a way that made him wonder if she knew what she did to him. Or maybe that sultry saunter just came naturally to her kind.
The deliciously snug-fitting jeans she wore cupped the fine swells of her backside, making him mentally curse every time he caught a look at her from behind. Her white shirt was a bit loose, maybe a size too large, and swayed with the morning breeze. As a result, the material pressed into her skin, detailing the mounds of her perfectly sized breasts. It made him impatient to touch her. He imagined what it would be like to run his tongue along her taut flesh. What sounds could he draw from her?
Usually such simple clothing on a woman didn’t entice him this much…but Cora was a succubus, after all. Put her in a little black dress and he might spontaneously combust.
Resentment doused a bit of his lust. He shouldn’t be drooling over the woman who had trapped him, imagining her body wrapped around his, her gaze drunk with need. Or how he would tease her till she came over and over again, till she’d cry out for mercy, though he’d have none to give....
He’d have her in something short and tight directly.
When she halted in front of him, and he finally noticed her sullen expression.
“What’s wrong?”
“The asshole in there shorted me?”
“Seriously?”
She showed him her remaining cash, far less than he’d given her, and all she had in hand was a map. “Yeah. Said I must have counted wrong. Even had the gall to look smug. Made a point to show me his gun holster to scare me off.” She crossed her arms. “Guess you’re not the only one keen to take advantage of a woman in a shitty situation.”
He frowned at her jab. “Wait here.” He crossed the lot and burst through the entrance, nearly cracking the glass door with his force.
The attendant, a young, gangly, twenty-something kid gaped at him.
“Did you steal from my girl?” He rushed the counter in two strides.
Rightly so, the attendant looked instantly terrified. “What? No!”
“Then why does she say otherwise?”
“I-I don’t know. She didn’t buy anything. The maps are free, man. I s-said she could take one.”
The rumble of an engine turning over had the blood leaching from Knox’s face. No. She wouldn’t.
Had he been so stupid as to leave the keys in the ignition?
He checked his pocket.
Fuck!
He raced outside to the after-dust of her peel out. Her arm poked out of the driver side window to wave…and then to flip him off.
“Goddammit!”
As the car sped away, he raked his hands down his face and couldn’t help the self-reproaching laugh. Sneaky little witch.
Then he caught sight of a worn-looking Ducati perched against the south side of the gas station.
Returning to the frightened attendant, he asked, “Whose motorcycle is that?”
Cagily, the boy replied, “M-mine. Why?”
“Does it run?”
His eyes darted warily as he nodded.
“Sorry about this, kid.”
* * *
Cora couldn’t help her languid smile as her arm hung on the ledge of the open window, a soft breeze rustling through her hair. The temperature was much more acceptable this far south: a balmy seventy-two degrees, even this early in the morning. She sucked in a deep breath of salty air and let it slowly drift out through her nostrils, allowing herself to pretend this was a nice, relaxing drive of leisure, though it was anything but.
She had almost missed that last turnoff.
She hadn’t anticipated how difficult it would be to keep up her speed and read the map at the same time. To find her location, she had to take her eyes from the road, and as soon as she did, the car would begin listing toward the shoulder. When she’d look up to correct her trajectory, she’d lose her location on the map. It was frustrating.
She should have figured out a way to steal Knox’s phone before she’d ditched him. At this point, his GPS feature was priceless. She wished she had remembered to grab Mace’s cell, but she wasn’t used to constantly carrying a phone like the others, and she’d been in such a hurry to pack and get on the road, she had totally spaced.
Finally, she finagled the delicate map directly over the steering wheel so that she could peer over it while she drove. In the glove box, she’d found a ballpoint pen, and had used it to trace her path for quick reference. The problem with her plan? Many of the signs were still unreadable. And a map couldn’t politely inform you if you’d turned the wrong way!
The dashboard clock read five forty-five. The airship was scheduled to take off at six—seven, with the delay Trent had organized. Unless that promise fell through, that left her an hour and fifteen minutes to drive over one hundred miles.
She couldn’t afford any holdups—
A small object appeared in her rearview mirror.
She squinted at it as a sense of foreboding skittered along her nape.
She checked her map—something that was quickly becoming an obsession with each passing off-ramp—worried that she’d somehow miss the approaching junction. If the mile marker she’d just passed was to be trusted, the road should split soon.
She glanced behind her again. That object was larger now. A motorcyclist? Whoever it was, they were exceeding her speed of a little over a hundred miles an hour. She pressed down on the gas. The speedometer notched up five points.
Still the stranger gained on her—though she suspected it wasn’t a stranger at all.
Gripping the steering wheel hard, she increased her speed again. She thought the map was indicating she needed to take the left junction, but she wasn’t sure. None of the signs were clear. Rust and grit covered most of their surfaces.
He was coming up behind her fast now. She could almost make out his features; his angry, angry features.
She pressed the pedal as far as it would go. The car lurched to a dangerous one-twenty. The hellcat-roar of the motorcycle’s engine announced his swift approach.
Just as he came up beside her, she rolled up the window. He gazed at her furiously, mouthing for her to pull over. His expression threatened retribution.
She flipped him off.
At that, his expression broke, and he laughed. Actually laughed at her!
Fucker!
She veered sharply toward him, but he saw it coming and easily dodged the sideswipe, still smiling. He shot in front of her, teasing her with a back-and-forth sway of his bike. But then he suddenly began to lose momentum. He swerved to the sedan’s right side and began drifting back, waving his outstretched thumb and pinky as he did so.
When he got behind her once more, she glared at him in the mirror. He mimicked his easy sway from before. Then, just to prove that he could, he breezed past on her left for the second time.
Her blood boiled at the taunt. She bit back a vile curse and shifted gears. As though pulled by a thousand invisible horses, the car jolted into hyperdrive. The speedometer maxed out, no longer able to accurately relay her speed as she powered forward.
He glanced back, a little surprised. Then he grinned in open challenge. He was looking to race.
Astoundingly, she found herself grinning back, flooring it.
When he gained momentum, she pushed the sedan harder. When she accelerated past him, he’d keep pace with her for a while, then seemed to find another gear, blasting out of her reach yet again. The map lay in a crumpled heap on the passenger seat while their tires ate up the nearly deserted multi-lane highway. For a moment, she forgot the responsibility bearing down on her, her worries, her fears, her consuming dread that she might not have what it would take to succeed, or that they were truly on a wild goose chase.
She just let go and allowed the moment to rule.
Nothing mattered but the metal against her foot and the competing growl of their engines battling for supremacy. Even though she knew she could never outrun his sleek, undoubtedly stolen, Ducati, it was still fun to try.
But when she approached the junction she’d been waiting for, she slowed, taking the left lane.
He stayed to the far right. She eased off the gas even more, dropping to eighty, growing unsure. He glanced back at her and waved for her to follow.
Shit. Was she about to take a wrong turn?
Without thinking, she cut the wheel hard, crossing four lanes, missing the concrete barrier by inches.
Chapter 15
She screeched to a halt at the edge of a rough, grassy field. Past it, a great airship was moored to a raised platform about a mile away, maybe two. Beyond that, the Pacific stretched along the horizon.
Seconds later, Knox pulled up beside her, the engine of his bike growling as if in protest at the unwanted stop; her engine coughed pitifully. The scent of burning rubber filtered in through the air vents. There at the end, she had pushed the sedan near to the breaking point, partly because she feared they’d be too late…mostly because she couldn’t stand the idea of Knox beating her here. She had to wonder if he had let her pull ahead for that last stretch, though it didn’t seem his style.
She killed the ignition, slipped her satchel’s strap over her head, and shouldered the door open. Outside, the cool morning breeze played in her hair.
The airship was a hulking beast of a thing. The body reminded her of a bowhead whale. In the back, twin vertical steering fins were probably six stories tall at least. The gondola boasted three, four, maybe even five levels—she couldn’t quite tell from this distance—and was snugly attached to the belly of the plump, stretching bladder filled with helium gas. Four massive propellers stabbed out from the gondola’s front and rear and could be swiveled horizontally or vertically for additional lift or propulsion. They were angled toward the earth at the moment, already spinning in preparation for takeoff.
