“You don’t,” I answer truthfully. “I mean, aside from our obvious connection with Kiznitch, you don’t.”
There’s a long pause.
“Lower her guard.” Kyrin brushes out from the same spot in the corner.
Before I can ask what lower means, Killian is leaning forward, his fists sinking into the mattress on either side of me, his nose almost touching mine. I fall onto my back, wanting some space between us. His scent is lethal. The sweet sting lingering over my skin before settling in the air between us. His cologne is strong, just like his personality, but it’s also mixed with the smell of his fading cigarette, which brings it to a whole new level.
“What are you doing?” I whisper, only I wish I didn’t speak because my lips rubbed against his softly. My palms sweat and itch, my stomach doing cartwheels.
“Lower,” Kyrin urges.
He grabs my wrists and pins them above my head, using his other to hike my leg up onto his hip.
“Killian,” I grind out. “Get off me.”
“Tad lower, then try again.”
Killian’s hand squeezes my thigh as his lips fall on top of mine. Not enough for a kiss, but enough for a warning. “How do I know you?”
I suck in a breath, my heart thundering in my chest. Thud. Thud. Thud.
“You d—don’t…” I answer.
He freezes.
I still. I’m confused, but mostly, I want his fucking muscular body off me and I need it off now.
His grin is untamed, and the only reason why I know that he’s grinning is because his white teeth gleam against the darkness of the room. “That wasn’t so hard, was it, Little Villain.”
“Stop playing with the food, Kill…” Kyrin snaps, but his voice is in the background now. “We got what we wanted.”
Killian doesn’t move and I’m still frozen beneath his body.
He leans down and suddenly I feel his tongue lick across my collarbone. My eyes shut as the tingles of his erotic touch sends electricity shooting all over my body.
I grind my teeth. “Get the fuck off me!” Just because he makes me feel some sort of way, doesn’t mean I’m going to give my body the satisfaction of getting what she wants.
“One, you’re a fucking liar, sweetheart, and I hate liars, and two?” He pauses, releasing my thigh. “Told you I’d be able to get you spread eagle in three seconds.” He jackknifes up from my bed, leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable. Words can be a powerful weapon, lethal enough to strip anyone of their composure while leaving their confidence bleeding out over the floor.
I shiver, unmoving.
“I’ll figure your shit out, Little Villain, and when I do…” Killian runs his tongue over his teeth and grins. “You’re going to wish I was still trying to get you naked.”
I kick the door to our bus closed, heading straight for the fridge and pulling out a can of Coke. I know that if I have any alcohol right now, it won’t help with the clarity that I need in order to decipher everything right now.
“Kill…” Kyrin says. “You need to think long and hard about what it is I know you’re thinking.”
I take a swig of my drink just as Keaton comes down the stairs, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. It’s been good having Dove out of the bus, but losing King in here was a loss I don’t think any of us were really prepared for.
“The fuck is the slamming for?” Keaton growls, dropping down onto the chair at the table.
“There’s something up with Saskia. There’s more to her.” That’s all I’ve got right now.
Keaton rolls his eyes, running his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, no shit, she’s Kiznitch, what do you expect? And by the way, this fascination you have with her is making you fucking grumpy.”
Ky looks back at me, bored. “If she isn’t who she says she is, we’ll just kill her. Now can I please go to bed? Fuck. We have a long ass trip tomorrow, and since Justice is all in love with Delila, we have to all do the driving ourselves.”
Kyrin threatening someone’s life should never be taken lightly. Because he will. Kyrin is a weapon and one of Kiznitch’s best-kept secrets because of the way he goes about his kills. Though that part isn’t really a secret. He leaves a brand on every single person he takes.
“We can’t fucking kill her,” I reply, bored with Kyrin’s lack of imagination. Kyrin is black and white. He doesn’t see grays or colors, or fucking lines or barriers. See where I, I look for opportunities. For games. That doesn’t mean that I have a problem putting someone down, it just means that I’m more histrionic about it.
“Why not?” Ky shrugs, opening a pack of potato chips and tossing some into his mouth.
“Because she’s close to Perse,” Keaton adds, as if that should simmer Kyrin.