Wicked Burn (Realm Enforcers #3)(17)

His ears turned red. “Me too.”

“Jesus.” Nick reached back for her hand and started forward, all but dragging her along. She tried to tug free, and his grip tightened.

“Let go,” she hissed, drawing up alongside him.

“No.” His stride didn’t shorten, and she had to quicken her pace to keep from tripping.

The familiar rock around her did little to soothe her nerves, yet she kept her face set in calm lines. They passed priceless oil paintings, sculptures, and prints set perfectly against the smooth rock walls, while immaculate maroon carpets cushioned their steps. The guard led them through the labyrinth of underground tunnels, obviously one of the few soldiers who knew the path.

“Tell me about entering the council rooms,” Nick said, his gaze straying to a Vicente Voltolini landscape on the far wall.

“What do you mean?” Simone asked.

“The veil. Tell me about the veil and how to survive going through it.” His hand tightened around hers.

She tripped as they reached the end of the tunnel, and the guard maneuvered a bunch of rocks against the stone into the correct formation.

The stone slowly slid open. “Wait in there for them to get you,” the guard said. “Ma’am,” he added quickly when Nick snarled.

Nick led the way inside a waiting room set with plush blue furniture, gold accents, and a Persian rug. “You witches sure like it fancy,” he muttered, releasing her hand and crossing to the closed door on the other side. “Tell me about the veil.” He turned to face her, arms crossed.

She slowly shook her head, awareness crashing through her. “You’re expecting to go through the veil?”

His head tilted ever so slightly. “Well, yes. We’re entering the chambers, right?”

“Yes.” Heat filled her lungs. The veil was a protective shield of cosmic forces that protected the entrance to the chamber, and it could rip a person apart without leaving a trace. He’d thought to brave the veil just to be her representative? Why? Why would he take such a chance? “The only non-witch ever to survive the veil was Conn Kayrs, and he had been mated to witch Moira Dunne for a century. He barely survived.”

“I know. Now tell me what I need to understand,” Nick said, his eyes blazing.

“Nick.” She shook her head. “You’re not going through the veil.” She held up a hand to stop him as he began to argue. “We put in a back door to the chamber after Moira insisted that Conn accompany her on missions.” Moira, Simone’s cousin, was an Enforcer, and her vampire mate just had to tag along. “This is the back entrance. No veils.”

He blinked and uncrossed his arms. “That’s a security risk.”

“One we had to take.” She lifted a shoulder. “There’s plenty of security, in case you missed the crazy maze we had to go through to get here. Plus, there were several coded doors we went through before reaching the last room.” The emotional armor shielding her started to crack, and she scrambled to hold herself together. “You really can’t have meant to risk your life like that.”

He moved then, coming at her. “You’re not doing this alone.”

She shook her head, wanting to back up, but her feet remained frozen in place. “Nick, no—”

“Yes.” He paused in front of her, gently grasping her chin. “I’m familiar with your laws, all laws, actually. I will represent you, but you have to make me one promise.”

Butterflies blasted through her abdomen. “What promise?”

“If it looks like things are going south, and I have a chance to get you out of Ireland, you let me.”

What? She tried to shake her head, but he held her easily in place. “I’m not running. What are you planning?”

“Backup plan, Zaychik moy.” His gaze dropped to her mouth. “I always have a backup plan. You know that.”

She swallowed, suddenly feeling too warm. “I will not run.”

“You’ll do what I tell you to do, if it means surviving.” No give showed on his face.

Temper, finally, took over her emotions. Flames shot down her arms. “You do not tell me what to do.”

“There it is.” He leaned down and brushed his lips over hers. “Keep that anger with you today. I have a feeling we’ll both need it.”

Her temper flew. Oh yeah? Man, she was tired of him messing with her equilibrium. She was Simone Brightston, for Christ’s sake. Time to throw him off balance. She grabbed the back of his head and lifted up, angling her lips perfectly inside of his. Her eyelids fluttered shut, and she slid her tongue inside his mouth.

He stiffened, his lips nearly pressing into a line.

She smiled just enough to let him know he couldn’t fool her. Nicholai Veis had forgotten whom he was dealing with. She wasn’t some wilting human female who wouldn’t bite back. She was Simone Brightston, member of the Coven Nine, and a badass, bitchy witch. Her tongue flicked along his bottom lip, then she slowly, so damn slowly, moved away.

She leaned back, satisfaction relaxing every muscle in her body. If the demon thought he could take the upper hand with her, he’d forgotten her power.

His lids were half-closed, and a fire burned in those dark eyes. Crimson darkened his high cheekbones, and his nostrils flared like a panther catching a scent. Tension emanated from him in waves.