“I’ll take care of it. You’ll only get hurt.”
His dismissal cut through the lust fogging her senses. “Fuck that,” she snapped. “I’ve been following this for months. I know the routes, the holding houses, I know the people involved. I know way more than you do about it.”
“This is vampire business, Sidonie. I don’t want you involved.”
“I’m already involved, and I don’t care about your super-secret vampire business. You either take me with you, or I’ll follow you there. Actually forget that, I’ll get there before you.”
Aden released her leg and stood abruptly, doing that towering-over-her thing that he did so well. She thought for sure that he was going to snarl at her and forbid her from going after the slavers. For all the good it would do him.
But he surprised her by saying, “Fine. You want to see how the game is played, you can come along. Just remember, habibi, human law does not apply here. There will be no Miranda warnings, no worrying about civil rights. The only law that will matter is mine.”
“I’m not some delicate flower to be afraid of a little bloodshed, Aden. And I don’t give a damn what happens to those animals.”
She didn’t quite trust the smile he gave her, but he nodded his head and said, “Then be here an hour after sunset. You can wear similar clothes,” he added, glancing down at her jeans dismissively. “But bring a dress for later.”
“I don’t know why I need to bring—”
“Because I like skirts. They make you more accessible.”
“More accessible?” she repeated, frowning. “What does that—Oh,” she said, suddenly understanding what he meant. A skirt made it easier for him to fuck her. Part of her was outraged at the very idea of him saying something like that to her. But then a suddenly vivid image flashed through her brain, a picture of him bending her over his desk, his big hand shoving up her skirt . . . Lust punched her in the chest, and she shuddered uncontrollably. Clearly, her brain was going with her body on this one.
Aden’s hand on her hip startled her back to awareness. His fingers tightened, and he pulled her flush against his body. “You should sleep today,” he crooned. “Because you won’t be sleeping much tonight.”
Sid’s mouth went dry. “You mean, because we’ll be raiding the holding house tonight?”
“Of course,” he said, a smile playing around his lips. “Did you think I meant something else?”
His hand slid down to the curve of her butt before he lowered his head and kissed her, a sensuous tangle of his tongue and lips, slow and seductive. Sid sighed into his mouth, reluctant to let the kiss end.
“Tonight, habibi,” he said against her lips.
And Sid didn’t know if it was a promise or a threat.
Chapter Nine
SID FINALLY KNEW what it meant when people said they were on pins and needles. That’s what it felt like to her, as if every inch of her skin was being pricked by tiny little pins . . . from the inside. She sat with Aden in the back seat of his big SUV. Bastien was in the front passenger seat, and Travis drove as they raced through the streets of Chicago, going at what were surely illegal speeds, and definitely reckless. This wasn’t some wide open highway. This was Chicago. Even at midnight on a weekday, there was traffic. But Travis had reflexes worthy of the Indy 500, and apparently no fear of death or dismemberment. She only wished she could say the same. Tonight was going to test every inch of her resolve, every ounce of her courage. She’d never confronted the slavers directly before, had always settled for doing recon, gathering information. That was the sensible thing. She was a journalist, after all, not a soldier or a cop.
But tonight was Aden’s show, and he and his vampires were definitely ready for a fight. Assuming she survived the trip to the house where the slaves were being held, there would be a showdown between Aden and his guys and whoever was in charge at the house. And she doubted they’d go down easily.
Even more than the impending violence, though, she was worried that the slaves had already been moved. That the vamps had somehow gotten word they were coming and spirited the women away. But Aden’s man on the inside, Elias, had reported that tonight was the night.
Despite her trepidation, the inevitable violence, and everything that could go wrong, Sid was jumping with excitement, exhilarated by the prospect of finally doing something real to stop the slavers and avenge Janey’s death.
And if that wasn’t enough to leave her taut as a bowstring, there was the vampire sitting next to her. The vampire who only a few hours ago had been balls-deep inside her. Every time he moved, every time he spoke, she was reminded of what it had felt like to make love to him, to have him murmuring her name as he thrust between her thighs. She was almost embarrassed to find herself sighing dreamily, wondering how long it would be before he did it again.
“Heavy thoughts, Sidonie?” Aden’s midnight voice had chills skating over her skin, his words like warm honey sliding into her ear and down her throat into her belly.
She shook her head sharply. “Just . . . I’ve worked so hard on this and now . . . it might all be over.”
He chuckled and let his arm, which had been stretched across the seat behind her, fall heavily onto her shoulders. His hand dropped to her chest where his fingers began to play idly along the swell of her breast. Sid wanted to roll her eyes at her own pathetic response to him, her heart racing, her skin heating to his touch. Aden leaned close and pressed his lips to the side of her face. She felt the wet touch of his tongue as he tasted her skin. It was a not-so-subtle reminder that he could sense her reactions to him.
She didn’t even have to look to know he’d have a smug expression on his face, and she’d have loved to smack that look away. But, one, she’d already established that she wasn’t exactly qualified to smack anything off of anyone, much less a vampire lord, and, two, he’d stop her before she even got close. And then either there’d be hell to pay, or he’d find the whole thing oh-so-amusing. Neither of which appealed to her.
“What’s the plan?” she asked, trying to think of anything other than sex.
“The plan is simple. We go in two teams, front and back, and kill every vampire present.”
“What about the women?”
“The van will transport them to a safe location,” he said, referring to the second vehicle following behind them. She’d been surprised when they’d started out to see the plain, full-size passenger van in their mini-convoy. “Any injuries among the women will be treated,” Aden continued, “and they will have the option of returning to their homes, or being settled in this country. Either way, they will be well cared for.”
Sid blinked in surprise. She hadn’t expected that. In fact, she’d been prepared to put up a fight, to demand something close to those very arrangements.
“You seem surprised,” Aden murmured.
“No, it’s just—”
He licked her face again. Not a delicate taste, but a blatant doglike lick.
“Fine,” she admitted, rubbing her wet cheek. “I’m surprised.”
“I’ve no tolerance for slavery.”
“I see that.” And she did. It was the second time he’d made that point very strongly, and it made her wonder again about his background. She’d assumed he’d been born rich, simply because he was rich. She’d told him as much. But what if he hadn’t been? According to Dresner—assuming anything that bitch had said was true—the powerful vampires were all extraordinarily old by human standards. Not because age equaled power, but because those who gained power as a result of their transition to Vampire won every challenge as they took their time learning to use their newfound power. So, Aden could be old. Old enough that he’d been born in a time when slavery was common.