Vain (The Seven Deadly #1)

“What does it translate to?”

He sat up with me and peered hard into my eyes. “Exile,” he said succinctly.

I fell back then turned to realize that the sat phone was fully charged.

We’re not done, Ian Aberdeen, I told him silently.

And he knew it. I could feel it in the intoxicating charge in the air. He knew it.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

I tossed an extra two dollars on the counter as we left the restaurant and the woman waved at us emphatically in appreciation. Ian and I walked silently toward his jeep, both pondering, I guessed, about the bombshells we’d just laid on one another. It was the first time we had ever been vulnerable to one another and it felt overwhelmingly powerful.

As we walked, I suddenly felt a whoosh of air as Ian pulled me toward him violently just in time for me to avoid the bicyclist who’d lost control and was barreling toward us. Ian grabbed me by the waist, swinging me away and rushing me back onto the sidewalk and against the outer facade of the restaurant we’d just been inside of. As he pressed me against him, that same flush-inducing heat creeped up my neck and face and one of his hands traveled to the back of my neck while the other rested on my hip. My heart beat into my throat but not from the narrowly missed collision. I was losing control of my reaction and that had never happened to me. I was always methodically in command of the way I let a boy affect me and had their reactions to me checked as well. Always in control. Proximity to Ian Aberdeen was my kryptonite.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

Far from it, I wanted to say, gazing into his breathtaking face. “I’m fine, thank you,” I said quietly instead, afraid of blemishing the moment.

We were walking a razor’s edge and my blood pulsed dangerously in my veins, pooling at the skin where his hands rested, heating me up from the inside. He backed away slowly, but the muscles in his arms bunched as he forced his hands to leave my body. I felt alone too quickly, but there was nothing I could do. In my past life, I would have dragged him back to me, but I was no longer that Sophie so I followed his very delicate lead.

We hurried to the jeep and he opened the door for me before rounding the front and settling in himself. He started the engine, but I grabbed his arm before he could put it in gear.

“Wait,” I told him.

“Yes?” he asked, breathing unusually hard and whipping his head my direction.

“I should call Pemmy for an update.”

“Oh,” he began before clearing his throat and facing the windshield, “of course.”

My heart beat rapidly at his obvious disappointment. I watched him for a second as I pretended to dial Pemmy’s number. Kiss me then, I kept ordering him silently, but he never obeyed. Instead, he gripped the steering wheel with such ferocity I believed he might bend it. I dialed Pembrook in earnest and got him on the second ring.

“Sophie!?” I heard on the other line.

“Pemmy! Yes, it’s Sophie! We charged the phone, so it’s got a full battery. If I use it sparingly, I think it could last a few days. Do you have any news?”

“Good...hear...the doctor...I’ve arranged a plane,” he said, breaking in clearly. “They should be in Kampala in forty-eight hours with everything you need. I could only get clearance for medical supplies, Sophie, so let Karina know I couldn’t include food or clothing this drop. I’ve arranged for armed escorts...delivery to Masego.”

He broke out at this point and we lost connection. I tried again with no luck. I turned the sat phone off and tucked it into its canvas carrying bag before looking Dingane’s direction.

“Did you hear him?” I asked.

He nodded. “Forty-eight hours,” he spoke solemnly. “We’ll have to quarantine in three sections. Confirmed cases, suspected cases and children showing no signs of illness.”

“What are the odds we can keep most of them clean?” I asked.

“I’ve no idea.” Ian turned to me. “It’ll be you and me with the sickest children.”

“We don’t even know if any of them will be ill, Ian.”

His face softened. “Sophie, that’s an inevitability.”

Ian put the jeep in gear and we sped off in the direction of Masego and into a pinkening sky. The sun would be leaving us soon, making me nervous for some reason I didn’t know.

An hour after we’d left Jinja, the tension in the truck was palpable. So many emotions swirled around us and I wanted so badly for Ian to pull over and cut that tension with his mouth. I stared out my window, my elbow resting outside the window. I felt strands of hair whipping against my face. My braids had started to fall out. I checked the mirror to see if it needed to be let down or if I could just tuck in the strays. It was a mess.

I swallowed knowing the simple act of releasing my braids was more intimate a moment than I’d experienced in even my most vulnerable moments with other men. I looked over at him and brought my hand slowly to my left braid sliding the tie off painfully slowly. I wanted him to notice.

Ian’s eyes flitted my direction, his breathing grew deeper and deeper, and I could feel the heat of his gaze pool in the pit of my stomach. I dropped the band in the seat next to me before lifting my hand to release the braid but Ian’s warm, callused hand stopped mine. He slowed the truck a bit before threading his fingers over the top of my belt and sliding me closer to him. My eyes lidded and my breath rushed out of me. He turned me to face him and with his free hand, he undid each plait much like he’d done during the lesson. When he was done, he slowly lifted his fingers and cupped the side of my face, before turning his head toward me. I couldn’t stop myself from placing my hand on his forearm and closing my eyes, reveling in his scorching touch. I took three steadying breaths and tried desperately not to melt into him.

I opened my eyes to look on him, but he glanced back to the road, narrowing his eyes slightly.

“No,” he whispered as a body of light unexpectedly shone brightly into the cab. He whipped my body down and covered my head with his chest.

I was beyond shaken as he veered the jeep into a sharp turn, coming to an abrupt stop perpendicular to the road we were traveling.

Before I had a chance to react, he was shoving me out the passenger side door ordering me to keep my head down. Adrenaline leaked into my limbs and I obeyed without hesitation. With stealth-like speed I didn’t think human, Ian slid out, tossing open the glove box and removing his revolver, cocking it and handing it to me without so much as a word before settling next to me. He sidled over to the back seat door and threw it open, leaning in to retrieve his AK just as the first bullet came whizzing over the top of the jeep. My heart froze in my throat and I ducked farther down, tucking myself against the side of my door. Ian shimmied out and slammed the door shut.

“Shit,” I heard him say as he steadily unfolded the stock and clicked the magazine in place. “Keep your head down, Soph,” he said, sliding to my other side and bracing his gun on the hood of the jeep.

Immediately, gunfire rang throughout the quiet night and my own revolver shook in my hands. Ian returned fire. After a minute, but what felt like an hour, I calmed myself down enough to grip my gun without trembling. I adjusted my body to set next to Ian’s.

“Don’t even think about it,” Ian said coolly to the night in front of him before sending a spray of bullets our assailer’s direction.

“I have to help you.”

“No, you only fire their direction if they’re upon us, Soph.”

Another round of bullets screamed our direction, shattering the only closed back passenger window and hurtling above our heads. Ian crouched down long enough to meet my eyes and a million promises transferred in that brief moment. He tore his gaze from mine and raised himself abruptly, repositioning his gun before firing their direction.

“Hand me one of those magazines?”

It was dark but the headlights of our attackers’ vehicle lit through the underbelly of our jeep and I spotted one of the magazines he asked for. I picked it up and handed it to him. He dropped the hot, used magazine to the ground and replaced it so quickly I barely registered it. He fired back within seconds.

“Who are they?” I asked.

“Thieves.”

“With automatic weapons?” I asked in disbelief.

“Yes.”

Ian unleashed an ungodly amount of bullets their way and they answered in kind. I covered my ears as best I could and tried so very hard to keep the tea down. Despite every attempt, I could not stop my body from trembling.

And just as quickly as it had started, it seemed to end. I heard doors slamming and their engine roaring to life, then their headlights disappeared. Ian hesitantly stood and I followed suit, sidling next to him and gripping his shirt in one of my hands. He tucked me behind him as we watched the attackers turn away from our jeep and go the other direction.

I could feel my blood returning to my extremities and they felt heavy, but it was short-lived when the men turned suddenly and came barreling our direction, firing bullets all the way.

Ian turned us into the side of the jeep and pushed us to the back before landing on top of me and burying my head into his chest. I could hear the attackers shattering the windshield with bullets before speeding off into the night. We laid like that for several minutes before he would let me raise my head. As soon as I raised it, he hugged me like we were dying. I gripped his back, desperate to be as close to him as possible, burying my face in his neck. It took a good fifteen minutes for our breathing to steady, but he still held me more tightly than I’d ever been held in my life.

He suddenly remembered himself and jumped up into a sitting position, searching my face and body, running his hands where his eyes roamed, checking for injuries and warming me up from the inside.

“Are you okay?” he finally asked.

I sat up and took in his own body. “I’m fine. And you?”

“Not a scratch,” he said with a slightly shaky smirk, making my eyes burn in relief.

He grabbed me and hugged me to him again. “God, Soph,” he breathed into my hair. “I was so worried.”

That’s when I noticed his body had finally accepted it was over and he began to shiver against mine as the adrenaline left him. He pulled me away and ran his hands across my face and through my hair, down my neck and rested them on my shoulders a moment before bringing my face back into his neck. We sat there in the dirt, holding each other, molding our bodies together as closely as we could get them, fear draining from every pore.

I couldn’t believe how incredible he had been during the attack. I had never seen a man move like Ian, nor had I seen one so quick on his feet and easy to protect. It was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen in my entire life. It all came so naturally to him, I doubt he even thought twice about each action. He was calculated and aware and amazingly hot.

My hands laid flat against the hard muscles in his back, still strained and warm from the danger we’d just endured. His t-shirt clung to him and I found myself running my hands up the ridges of muscles to his shoulders just to feel them before wrapping my arms around his neck.

He held me tighter when I encircled my arms. “The windshield is done,” he breathed into my throat, bringing me back to reality.