Dark Desires After Dusk (Immortals After Dark #6)(62)

The trance broken, she glared at him. “That wasn’t funny!”

“Not meant to be. You need to practice with this, ten times a day if you have to. You have a vulnerability, poppet. A big one. You’ve got to overcome it.”

Though he was brusque and abrasive, he did seem to have her best interests at heart. She nibbled her lip. “The diamond was real, or I wouldn’t have seized on it.” When he nodded, she said, “How much do mercenaries like yourself make these days?”

“I’ve got a fortune in gold. Ah, was that a flicker in your eye? Do you like me better now that you know I’m rich?” He curled his finger under her chin. “Because I’m all right with that.”

He gave her a brief kiss on the lips.

“Stop doing that!”

He kept sneaking kisses, treating her as if she was his girlfriend. Which flustered her. It did not excite her.

“Now, prepare yourself,” he said. “It’s time for you to drive a really fast car.”





28





It’s ideal for our purposes,” Cadeon said, gazing down the length of the highway.

It was deserted, looking like an abandoned airstrip through the forest, and was visible all the way to the mountains in the far distance. Old snow lay in clumps off to the side of the road, but the pavement was clear and dry.

“You’re really going to let me drive?”

“Whose car is this?”

She answered, “Not ours.”

“Good girl.”

As he pulled over, she surveyed the area. The forest was lit by the waning moon, the sky clear. “I can’t believe I’m all the way up in northern Michigan, and there’s no real showing of snow.”

“Maybe so, but now you get to see the northern lights.”

“No way! Where? I don’t see them—which way are they?”

He pointed to the left, just above the tree line. “There’s your Aurora Borealis.”

Her gaze followed, and she gasped. Shimmering violet lights danced against the black sky. As they swirled, they alternately obscured, then highlighted the moon and stars.

Seeing this made her heart sing, and she murmured, “So lovely.”

“Legend held that the Valkyrie created the lights.”

“What was the legend?”

“The early northlanders believed that when the Valkyrie rode from Valhalla to choose brave warriors for eternal reward, their armor cast a strange flickering light over the sky.”

“Really?” When he nodded, she said, “You know a lot.”

“You think?” he asked nonchalantly, but she could tell her comment pleased him.

She was inclined to be nice to him, still delighted over her dinner, and excited about finally driving this car.

“You ready?” He turned a knob to the left of the driver’s seat.

She could feel the car sinking lower and heard a whirring behind her. “The spoiler in the back—”

“Retracts into the body of the car. So do the front flaps. And here’s something you’ll like to hear. These changes reduce the drag coefficient by .05 percent.”

She quirked a brow. He was speaking her language. Once they traded places, she sank into the driver’s seat, adjusting the mirrors.

“You know how to drive a stick, right?”

“I cut my driving teeth on a Carrera, thank you very much.”

“Good. Then put on your seat belt.”

She fastened the harness. “You, too.” At his mulish look, she said, “Please?”

“Fine, fine,” he said, startling her by conceding so easily. “Now just pull out real slow.”

Though he had yet to drive slowly, she dutifully slipped the gear into first and eased out onto the road.

“All right, get her up to the speed limit.”

Steadily giving gas, Holly shifted to second, then third.

“That’s it. You’re doing good. Really good. What do you think?”

By fifth gear, she was convinced the clutch was the crispest on earth, the accelerator the most sensitive. The engine was responsive, like nothing she’d ever driven. “Incredible. It maneuvers so easily. All-wheel drive?”

“You know it.”

“It’s hugging the road.” Like a bullet on a magnetized rail.

“Believe it or not, this car is as heavy as a tank. A full two tons.”

“No way.”

“If it’s so easy to drive, then let’s see you open her up.”

So Holly accelerated, feeling a thrill when she saw she’d broken the highway speed limit.

“Faster, pet. Come on, kick ’er in the guts!”

“You asked for it.” She nailed the accelerator, and the car shot forward, plastering them back into their seats. One hundred miles per hour. The tiniest correction on the wheel caused the most precise adjustment in the direction. One forty. The power, the thrum of the engine, the control—all so heady.

The road was indeed like a runway. And Holly felt like a different person—a boots-wearing, seafood-eating, thong-clad driver of million-dollar cars.

When she peeked at the speedometer again, they were doing a hundred and eighty.

Her heart was racing, her adrenaline pumping. But she also felt something she never expected.