Chapter 2 - Vlad

At some point, I would get used to the fact that Emory was so beautiful. At some point, I was going to remind myself that this was a terrible fucking idea and that I'd never gone this far into an "exchange" with a woman without telling her I didn't speak.

But that time was not now.

Emory stood up off her stool and slid me the phone. As soon as I read the message, I got out of my chair and followed tightly behind her. This is not where I saw this evening going.

I'd just wanted to get a few drinks before heading back to the house, but when I saw that asshole trying to slip a pill into Emory's drink, I had to do something. Something that included grabbing him by the collar and hoisting his sorry ass out the door with a hard shove.

Things had sort of spiraled after that. I'd bought Emory a new drink, and being that close to her had gone straight to my head like she was the tall drink of scotch and I'd just taken a massive shot.

I just couldn't bring myself to interrupt the electricity we'd created with the mute thing. It always put the breaks on anything I had going with someone, and the interaction became about sympathy instead of connection.

Not what I'm going for.

Introducing myself on the phone as Nikolai had just happened, too. I sometimes used my middle name as a cover, but there was no call for it now. It's not like Emory had any idea who the Unholy Trinity was or that I was a part of them.

She would never know me as the Unholy Ghost or Vlad. Tonight, the natural way we'd come together had been all about Nikolai and his distinct lack of a tragic backstory. I was content to keep it that way.

As we walked quietly outside, I trailed just behind Emory, hoping she'd lead the way to her car. It was going to be tricky as fuck to keep up the "no talking" now that I didn't have the cover of the loud bar, and I hoped I could get by with the few non-committal noises I was willing to make.

"Did you drive?" Emory asked as she looked back over her shoulder at me.

I shook my head, giving her an "uh-uh." Her eyes widened a hair, and then Emory nodded, pointing to her car parked over near the street side of the parking lot.

"Oh, well, we can take mine."

Smirking—and thoroughly hoping that my eyes could do the talking for me, which they usually could—I held her stare for a moment, creeping up alongside her as she started for her car again. Emory reached inside her purse for her keys, and I quickly snagged them out of her hand.

"Hey!" She smiled at me, playing up her annoyance. "I'm not that drunk. I assure you I'm fine to drive."

She was. I'd been keeping an eye on her drinking because I wasn't interested in fucking a nearly unconscious woman, and Emory had been sitting comfortably in the three beers over three hours mark.

Reaching into my pocket for my phone as I held her keys, I pulled up the GPS to the safe house that would act as our "hotel" for the evening. Flashing her the screen for just a second, I cocked a brow at her, smirking.

"Oh, sure. You want to pick the location." She tossed her hand up in playful surrender, shaking her head as she stepped up to her passenger side door. "Fine by me. You do need to unlock it, though."

After I clicked the button on her keys, the car chirped as it unlocked, and I reached past her to open her door for her.

"Such a gentleman."

I chuckled, closing the door behind her and circling the car to the driver's side. As I got in, I adjusted the seat so that I could fit behind the wheel and fired the car up. My heart was a loud, staccato boom in my ears as I got us moving. I'd never done something like this with a woman. That was my brother's bag, at least before Ivan went off and found Adley.

All things considered, I wasn't very interested in sex or dating. Yes, not speaking did make that all more difficult, but it wasn't entirely that. I just…didn't want to. It didn't pique my interest.

But I suppose seeing the only couple in your life come to a bloody end has a way of diminishing the allure of romance.

It took the shine off in many ways, and I was still paying for someone else's mistakes decades later. Ugh, and Ivan had to go and schedule me for a "sit down" with a fucking shrink. Asshole.

Yeah, Emory wasn't the only one looking to drink away a few nerves because tomorrow was going to be a big day.

The trip to the safe house closest to us would only take seven or eight minutes, and I hoped that Emory's lingering nervousness would keep the conversation to a minimum. Once we were there, I could hurry this train along to its final destination.

***

Sure enough, Emory didn't say much on the drive. I used that to my advantage, offering up the occasional "uh-huh" when she asked a question, which was few and far between. She'd only asked, "Is it close?" and "This is your place?"

I shut off the engine and parked the car out front of the little house, which was as bland as could be. It lacked any decoration or anything that might distinguish it, but it was also off the map for most of the crime families in Chicago, and no one knew we used it. The windows were bulletproof, too.

As I went around to Emory's side of the car and opened her door, she took my hand to step out. When she was on her feet, our bodies were suddenly right up against each other, and my cock twitched. Fucking hell, she was just so damn beautiful.

And it was damn clear the woman had a strong head on her shoulders, a fact I found more than attractive. Standing there with her, I tested the waters, tucking a strand of her long, wavy hair behind her ear. The strand slipped free from a clip that held it back from her face, and I imagined ridding her of the thing and watching all those chocolatey waves fall freely.

Emory released a shuddering breath, her eyes flicking down before they met mine again—worried and intrigued in equal parts.

"I…I'm sorry. I'm a little nervous." She chuckled softly but melted into the touch as I put my hand to her cheek, cupping it gently. "Damn, for a man of few words, you certainly know how to make an impression."

Sliding my hand over, I put my finger to her lips, offering a barely audible "Shhh."

Emory's eyes fluttered closed, and her full lips parted slightly. For a moment, all I could do was take her in, admiring the round curves of her mouth, the slender curves of her body that pressed against mine as I leaned her back on the car, the warmth of her tan skin that seemed to glow from within.

She'd mentioned that her grandparents were originally from Milan, her dad being the first of the family to be born in America, and the barest hint of an accent in her voice supported that. I'd never been a particularly big believer in luck, but I was silently thanking whatever had brought her family to the States.

Because it ensured Emory's existence, and I was damn glad for that.

As the moment crested into the heights of tension, I ghosted my lips over hers, waiting for just a tick for her to decide she didn't want this. No resistance came, and so I sealed our mouths in a feverish kiss.

Emory moaned as I slipped my tongue past the seam of her lips, and as hers met mine, dancing with it, I hoisted her up onto my waist. She'd chosen to wear smart business slacks, another sign that she did not belong in that bar, and her legs wrapped around me, hooking together at my back.

With that, I stepped back, shutting the car door, and walked us up to the steps of the safe house. I had to fumble with the keys in my pocket for several seconds before getting the fucking door open, unwilling to break the kiss with Emory or set her down.

Once inside, I just let the keys fall to the floor with a clatter, turning over the deadbolt and carrying Emory to the bedroom at the back. The house was dark and quiet, and I didn't bother with any lights. Beams of illumination cut through the blinds from the street, creating a striped pattern across the floors and walls. Emory didn't even look around, content to keep our exquisite dance of frenzied kisses going on for as long as she could.

At the end of the hall was the master bedroom, and I kicked open the door when we arrived. Emory yelped slightly against me, parting our lips just long enough to look over her shoulder and giggle.

"Well, that's one way to get it open," she mumbled against my mouth, and I smiled.

What am I doing? This is so fucking insane. I just…I need her. I need her like I need air.

I got us inside the master suite, kicking the door closed again. The hinges creaked loudly, and I had a feeling that the thing was likely on its last legs, thanks to the abuse. It tickled me endlessly, and I grinned against Emory's kisses as I walked over to the queen bed and laid her across the mattress.

Hovering over her, I enjoyed the feeling of her body beneath mine, kissing over her neck and chest until I was just about to reach her breast. I pulled back, meeting Emory's eyes with a stern look. I cocked a brow, waiting for her to tell me no.

"It's…it's okay. I want this."

It was all I needed to hear, and with that, I threw caution to the wind and indulged myself. I'd have quite the story to tell my brothers when I got home. And, of course, I'd be spilling the beans about exactly none of it.

This was just between Emory and me, and it was going to stay that way.