Chapter 9: Things that are bumped in the night

Nefretiri

I'd never told anyone the truth of what I knew, not only because no one would ever believe me but also because I wasn't supposed to know myself. Of all the things Ricky was and did, it was the secret he never shared with me. I wish it were because he loved me, but it was never about love with him. For whatever reason, Ricky didn't want me involved in that world, and honestly, I was glad to be out of it.

If he knew that I'd known what he really did for money, I'm sure I'd be dead, my body somewhere no one would find it. So, I played innocent, never questioning him when he left town for days, sometimes weeks. I focused more on the fact that he had left me with a sitter than on what he was doing. When he returned, I didn't ask why his clothes had blood on them. I just cleaned them and pretended I hadn't seen anything. I was so good at playing stupid he didn't even put a lock on the basement door like he had in Texas. Ricky ordered me never to go down there when we moved here, and I agreed. That didn't mean I obeyed. Twice, my curiosity got the better of me, and I went down there, and both times, I couldn't pretend that the nightmare wasn't the only possible truth.

"What do you mean he's an assassin?" Ivan followed me into the living room—technically, my bedroom since I slept on the couch most of the time. However, I hated sleeping in the bed, especially after one of his women had been there.

"What do you think I mean?" I can't help the sarcasm in my voice. There to hide the tension and fear. "He kills for money."

The situation with Ricky's harem was as complicated as everything else about our relationship. It hadn't started like that. When we were dating, I was the only woman he was with—at least, that's what I'd thought. Then, after we married, I started suspecting he was sleeping around, and I tried to leave. That was the first time he'd beaten me. I'd run seven times, but he always found me and brought me back.

Not only physical abuse but other forms of punishment. If I called the cops, he cut the internet, I confided in someone, and my car was sold. He finally announced that I'd forced his hand, and he wasn't satisfied with only having me in his bed. I was too cold, and he needed to have something more. He has a revolving door of women, but three are his favorites and are my babysitters.

Darla, Jackie, and Stephanie.

They know who I am but don't care. When they're here, it's like they own me. I make their food, wash their clothes, and go where they tell me I'm allowed. They even took me to my doctor appointments, staying in the room while the doctors checked on the baby, pretending they were my friends. So if you ask me why I tolerate it, don't try to run again. I'm afraid of the consequences now that I know what he is.

"Nefretiri?" Ivan crouches in front of me, tilting my head up. "How do you know?"

"I... I overheard a conversation he was having with a client once. He didn't know I was in the apartment, and... he was setting an ungodly amount of money." Swallowing, I remember that day and the mixed emotions I'd felt. Mostly confused because Ricky was talking in Japanese, and for some strange reason, I understood him. "So I started watching our account, but nothing ever showed up, so I thought maybe he was lying, trying to cover his tracks about some girl he was fucking."

"But he wasn't?"

"No, he wasn't." Ivan starts caressing my face, and I look at the door nervously. "He had a secret offshore account under a different name. I found that and... everything when we moved here."

"Can you show me?" Ivan's voice has that power back, and every fiber in me reacts to it. Of course, I'm not compelled to obey him, but when the energy touches me, I feel wet and needy—things I thought I could no longer feel. "I need to see it."

"I can't."

"Is it somewhere else?"

"No." Closing my eyes, I try to make this go away. I don't want to go back down there. "Especially not now. "It's in the basement."

"You don't have to come with me, Nefra. Just show me where it is, and I'll check it out myself." His offer startles me, and I open my eyes again. Would he do that for me?

"What if he comes back while we're down there?" I whisper, already getting up.

"I'll hear him long before he comes in." Ivan taps his ear with a smile. "Werewolf hearing."

I slowly get up, taking Ivan's hand before leading him toward the back of the house. Our basement door was beside the laundry room and the den. A door you might miss if you didn't know what you were looking at. There's no lock or cameras, only a sign that has 'keep out' scribbled on it, and I was the one who put it on there. When you open the door, it's dark until you flip the switch and see regular stairs. Nothing about this seems sinister, not even when you reach the last step and see the home office.

"I know it looks normal, but you have to look under the surface." I walk to the first large cabinet. Nothing had chains or locks, so I swung the doors open to show just one of the many collections of guns. "I don't know anything about guns, but I don't think half of these are legal."

Ivan comes closer, examining the weapons. I can tell by his expression that he knows many of the firearms in front of him and that I'm right about their legality. Before he can get lost in them, I go to another cabinet in the room. Opening it more carefully. The blades clink, and I'm always afraid they'll cut me.

I didn't say anything this time, letting him see for himself. Ivan scowls at the blades. Some were clean, but several had blood stains that hadn't been removed.

"Not all of these are human." And now he knows the truth. I look down, afraid of what he'll say to me. This was why I was scared to get near people remotely like me. The only ones I'd ever associated with were Liam and Sarah and the vampire who worked at the gas station down the block. It wasn't safe to know me. It wasn't even safe to be me. "This is dragon blood."

"Yes." Going to a closet door, I showed him the other things I'd found. "Wolfbane, liquified iron, acids for dragon scales, drugs that will kill a vampire from the inside out, even things for witches and... sorcerers. He has that and more that I don't recognize."

"Does he know what you are?" Ivan watches me instead of looking inside, so I close the door.

"No."

"How? If he has all this, he must know."

"Luck mostly. I never told him. I thought it would scare him away. I don't use magic when I know he'll be around. Besides, I told you, I'm not powerful." He looks at me with disgust, and I feel the spark of hope die in my heart. I knew the second he found out he wouldn't want me. How could he? I've lived the last three years with a monster who made money killing his kind, my kind too, and I'd married him and given him a child. "There's this too."

Walking to the second room in the basement, I pray it's not locked. It is, but the third and fourth doors aren't. Some people could justify what Ricky did as something good or religious, but that isn't the case when you see these rooms and everything in them. It's about money and cruelty.

"These are his trophy rooms."

Ricky had collected hundreds of trinkets—everything from werewolf fangs to dragon scales. Something from every victim he killed was here. Each piece is displayed like a collectible. He had more obscure things, too. Artifacts and even toys he'd taken from the children he'd murdered. So many lives he'd taken, and I always felt those people didn't deserve to die.

"If you wanted to leave, I understand. If you could... Penelope... she..." My voice trembles, and I can't finish what I'm trying to say. My daughter didn't deserve this life, and maybe Ivan would feel sorry for her, and he'd find her a good home away from us.

Suddenly, I'm off the floor and pinned against the wall. Ivan's lips were crushing mine. Unlike the kiss we shared at the store, this one was rough and desperate and had a burning and dangerous bite. It isn't one long, hard kiss. Instead, it's waves of them, one crashing on top of the other until my lungs demand that I remember to breathe. With the start of every demanding touch, Ivan growls against my skin, getting angrier and louder.

"You aren't to blame for any of this, Nefretiri." His fangs were out, and his eyes' blackness mesmerized me. "I am."

"What do you mean?" I blink, flustered by the kisses and confused by his statement. "You're not the one with a supernatural assassin."

"I should have come for you. I should've hunted you down when I sensed you calling for me." Ivan was shaking now, and I don't know why. "I have felt you for over a year, Nefra. I didn't understand what I was feeling. Not until now. I can feel how you feel. And for all this time, I've felt bursts of pain and sadness, and it was you. My mate. You needed me, and I ignored your call because I thought I was losing my mind."

"Ivan..."

"No, you've had to live with this monster. With his lair and the pain of everyone he killed. How could I blame you for all this when it's me who should be sorry?"

"You didn't choose to be with him. I did." Strangely, we're playing the blame game between us, but I hate seeing the guilt written on his face. It makes the scars on his jaw and neck stand out more. I hadn't given them much attention before.

"You wouldn't have chosen him if I'd been there. Our bond is strong. If you'd had the choice, your soul would have wanted to come with me."

I want to argue with him about that, but the truth is... I can't.

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