War of Prey

8)Cherry Chapstick

"These days and nights fade to black."

***

Some things never change.

Attempting to sit up, Rhea is held down by thick white ropes. Classic. Either Rakel or her lover must have decided that Rhea was not to be trusted, that she could harm them in the middle of the night despite her drunken sleep. "Could you, uh, untie me?"

"I am sorry, Madame, but I have orders to keep you here until Masters Rakel and Hierro return," a voice says, young sounding. The man steps into the light, his hands behind his back, a glistening object showing.

"What, have you come to kill me? Or is that against the 'Masters' wishes?"

"I came to hold a civilized conversation, one void of violence if possible. And I have come bearing a gift," he smiles, handing Rhea a new bottle of wine after untying her right hand. "Something gentler for you."

"Thank you, although many would scold you for supplying me with alcohol, but cheers!" Unscrewing the cork, Rhea brings the bottle to her lips, taking a gulp before sighing. "Two years of sobriety will make you miss it. So, what did you want to talk about?"

"I will be in very serious trouble for talking with you if Master Hierro finds out. My name is Lane Davis. I was taken hostage four years ago by Master Hierro's father in a drug war in Puerto Peñasco. I was supposed to be used as a bargaining chip to get the Embassy to cave."

"Why would they use you as a bargaining chip? What are you to the Embassy?" Rhea asks, the wine bottle dangling from her fingers. Used to being bound against her will, Rhea finds a way to sit up with minimal discomfort, prompting Lane to gawk. "I have been a hostage more times than I can count. Comes with the job."

"I am the King's son," Lane whispers, taking the bottle from Rhea and chugging it himself. "They found out. They thought my father cared that much to get me back; he didn't. I was left here to a life of servitude to my captor's son and his girlfriend. They keep hoping that my father will change his mind and agree to their terms, but they do not know who he is and how little he cares for his child."

For the first time since Lane walked in, Rhea really looks at him. His neatly combed black hair, dark chocolate eyes, his face slender with youth, and jaw shadowed with stubble. His face is a little too angular, making him look more like a feminine boy instead of a man, but to Rhea it suits him. As she stares into his eyes, she finds him staring into hers, an unspoken conversation playing. "I need your help to escape."

"So you ask the assassin and con woman who has a bounty on her head?" he opens his mouth as if to speak, but she puts a hand up, stifling him. "I will help you."

"And in return?"

"You help me take down Hierro and the Iron Chain Link," Rhea says, Lane's eyes widening. Rhea takes her dagger and cuts a small piece of her shirt, very small to still be considered fully clothed, before slicing her palm open. The blood drips on the cloth, staining the fabric, and hands it to Lane. "As long as you carry this, I am bound to you. Our promise stays between us."

"Thank you," he whispers, taking the cloth from her hand. He looks up and smiles at her, his gaze ever so slowly dropping to her lips. He is one of many, Rhea thought, remembering all the males who gazed at her lips. Her lips are still painted red from her hotel bathroom. To anyone else, kissing a stranger may be a bad idea, but to Rhea, it is nothing. It is the least of the risks she has taken. As it is with most of her kisses, she has nothing to lose from it; therefore, why not? The intimacy was fun; it gave complete control over someone's emotions, complete control over them, and maybe that is why Rhea enjoys it. Or maybe it is because she has nothing else to lose. After agonizing seconds that wear Lane down, Rhea leans in and allows Lane to brush his lips across hers, the taste of his cherry Chapstick lingering on her lips. He pulls back to look at her, gauging her reaction and looking into her eyes with a pleading look. Can I kiss you again? his eyes ask her. She quirks her lips up and pulls him in by the lapels of his suit, the one that, despite its sheer ugliness, looks very well on him and fastens her lips to his.