“Most agree.”
“And those who don’t?”
“Find themselves no longer in my employ.”
My lips pursed. “Firing them breaks the bond?”
“Only death does.”
A stark revelation that had no follow-up as he stepped outside the cave to greet Randy, leaving me to wonder if I’d ever be as matter of fact about ending people’s lives.
Then again, hadn’t I already proven I had the right mentality? After all, I didn’t mourn or even think twice about the two men I’d killed.
I’d even guarantee it would most likely happen again.
Chapter Thirteen
“Hey, boss.” Randy waved at me and Cillian as we stepped out of the warm and cozy cave into the chill of the night-shrouded ravine. Knowing the freeze wouldn’t murder me didn’t prevent me from shivering, and neither did my tightly wrapped coat. The draft up my skirt onto my bare cooch didn’t help either, especially not after the unexpected—but very pleasurable—interlude in the cave.
As we began the trek to the rope Randy mentioned they’d hung for easy climbing, I immediately stumbled in my heels and twisted my ankle. Ouch. Being a vampire didn’t magically make me graceful—or allow me to glide freakishly like Sophia. It might have been a miserable journey if Cillian hadn’t swept me into his arms.
It should be known I used to mock women who got carried despite their two feet working just fine. I took it all back now that I could see the benefit. For one, I no longer had to worry about twisting my ankle—which healed almost right away, but still, it did hurt! Two, I could smell Cillian’s cologne and press my lips to his neck, which made his arms tighten around me. And three, I enjoyed feeling dainty and protected. I know, not very feminist of me. I did not give a single fuck. Sometimes I didn’t want to be strong and independent, for example, when I saw how high I’d have to climb. I eyed that dangling rope and realized I’d have to haul my ass upwards, hand over hand, while praying I didn’t lose my grip and fall. I could do it, but when Cillian said, “Get on my back and hold on,” I didn’t argue, I wrapped myself anaconda style. Had to admit, it was pretty damned hot the way Cillian showed off his strength.
Guess my appreciation didn’t go unnoticed because when we reached the top, he dragged me close and whispered, “If only we didn’t have company, I’d do something about that sweet-smelling pussy.”
Holy shiver and thigh clench. Who knew the seemingly proper Cillian had such a dirty side? I barely resisted an urge to shove Randy off the edge of the ravine. I controlled myself, mostly because a grim Gwen stood guard with a gun in hand.
“You seem on edge. Is there a problem?” Cillian asked as Gwen opened the rear passenger door on a Toyota Corolla of all things.
“Thought I heard something.” Gwen kept scanning the shadows.
The wind chose that moment to whistle through branches and the sleet on them crackled and rained down, the noise of it an eerie musical plinking.
“I don’t sense anything.” Cillian had his eyes closed as if he mentally scoured the area. For all I knew, he did.
“Hard to tell what’s normal or not with all the ice making noise. The sooner we get out of here, the better,” Randy suggested joining us.
I ended up in the backseat, bereft of the heated leather of Cillian’s sedan. While it might lack material comfort, snuggling against Cillian, who tucked me against him for warmth, actually proved nicer.
“Where did you find the car?” Cillian asked as we drove off from the scene of the accident.
“A couple of miles down the road. Owner was asleep so we borrowed his wheels. Once you’re safe at home, we’ll have it wiped clean and left somewhere easily found.”
“With some cash in the dash or trunk,” Cillian advised.
“Will do, boss,” Gwen promised.
Despite the slippery conditions, Randy drove faster than might be wise with the car, though it handled the iced asphalt better than expected. We made it home—ahem, to the mansion—with less than an hour to spare before dawn.
Cillian leaned close and whispered, “I’ve just got to return a phone call then I’ll meet you upstairs in your room.”
I nodded. “Sounds good.”
Better than good. I raced upstairs and stripped from my now pretty ragged clothes. I felt kind of bad that the silver sequined gown got abused on its first outing. Maybe Yvette could clean and fix the missing sparkles. I hopped into the shower for a body sluice, making sure I kept my still decent-looking hair and face out of the spray. I gave my womanly parts a good cleaning and was in my bedroom wrapped in a towel when Cillian arrived—without knocking, as usual.
I whirled and almost lost the damp fabric keeping me covered.
He whistled. “I’m really wishing I’d not returned that phone call.”
