“And remove pieces off him until he reveals a link to Gael’s operations,” I say succinctly. “I’m sure your little friend Axel has a bone saw.”
“It probably needs sharpening.”
“Mm. The blade will dull with overuse.”
“You can be sure he’s done that,” she clips out.
Comically waggling my brows at her, I stoop to retrieve her discarded phone. Ember takes it from me with a small smile.
“I half expected you to take the deal then concoct some grand scheme to disappear again.”
“Tempting.” I sigh dramatically. “I am not built for this country anymore. Far too cold. Alas, I have decided to stick around for now.”
“What about your friends?”
“They have their orders in my absence.”
“All part of the plan?” Ember’s head tilts.
She has me so nailed.
“You’ll soon come to learn that I’m never without a plan. Though I have made some adjustments to several of my plans since we met.”
She tucks the phone into her pocket. “Is that so?”
With a glance around the hallway at the steel-faced agents wearing their best blank expressions, I take hold of Ember’s biceps and push her up against the wall. She grunts in protest but doesn’t fight me.
Her fine body pinned against the wallpaper, I let my hand sail downwards to find the scars left by my stitches. My thumb skates over her brand next, tracing each individual number.
I lean in to let my lips meet her earlobe. “You were just a bargaining chip, sweetheart. That’s all humans ever are to each other.”
“What a charming thought.”
“Then I got a glimpse of that savage beast you barely keep shackled, and I wanted more. I’m not in the business of denying myself the things I want.”
Shivering at my touch on the marks that tell our shared story, I relish the way she turns to fucking putty. It’s one thing to own a woman. Satisfying? Certainly.
But to own a dangerous menace capable of ending your entire existence? That’s a thrill I’ve never experienced. My plans don’t matter if they don’t include owning Ember Lawson on the immediate horizon.
“On that note… Tell me what you want.”
“I want my brother back,” she demands.
“What else?”
Her beckoning body trembles against mine. “I want to hurt the people who hurt me.”
“Naturally. And?” I prompt.
“And… I want to find Gracie—there’s no way that she’s dead. And I want to feel the warmth on my face while my enemies’ carcasses burn.”
Lifting my lips from her ear, I move so our heads are together—foreheads meeting, noses brushing, my lips an inch from heaven. But I don’t let our mouths meet. Not yet.
“Ember.”
She startles at my use of her actual name.
“Yes, Phantom?”
Pleasure seeps over me. Oh, the game is so on.
“Let’s take them down together.”
Ember’s response is certain.
“Fucking deal.”
To be continued in…
