She moistened her lips and blinked several times as if trying to focus on him. She was resistant to breaking off attempting to heal Destroyer’s throat.
Savage framed her face with his hands. “Right here, baby. Eyes on me.” He waited until she focused completely on his eyes. “Did Destroyer interact with this Russian woman?”
She nodded her head. “Several times. Again, he passed on her.”
“Destroyer, you’re up next with Absinthe,” Savage said without looking at him. He glanced at the line. Only Maestro and Lana were waiting. Lana looked extremely uncomfortable. Guilty even. Maestro wore no expression whatsoever.
Lana stepped up. “I want to apologize for making you feel as if you weren’t wanted, Seychelle. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to Savage. Ever. You’re right, I was afraid to have you come on the run because I didn’t want you to see anything that might make you leave him. All I did was drive you away from him and us. I’ve felt edgy and moody for a while now, and I guess I took it out on you.”
Seychelle studied Lana’s face for a long moment, and then she nodded. “It happens. I know I look like I’m fragile, but I have unexpected, very deep wells of strength. Savage knows I can handle whatever he needs. If you don’t yet have faith in me, and that’s understandable, you should have faith in him. What is it about me that most puts you off?”
Lana shrugged. “I find myself wanting to protect you all the time, even from Savage. You look so innocent. Sometimes I want to scream at him that he chose wrong. That he can’t pull you down into the wreck of our lives. I hate it for him, that none of us can save him from what he needs, and I hate it worse for you.” Her hands shook as she pushed at the dark strands of her hair. “I want to shake you until you see sense. You don’t belong with us, and yet you fit with him so perfectly. I see you two together, and you blend. It doesn’t make sense, but he laughs. He’s never really laughed before, not really. He’s different around you, and even I can see that.”
Savage was watching his woman concentrating on the notes emerging from Lana’s mouth as she spoke. Her notes were strong, like the woman, a deep red mixed with a lighter red and, strangely, light purple and aqua. It took a moment before he saw the other woman’s deceptive notes emerging as well. Lana had been around the Russian woman for certain.
“What you need to remember when you start feeling that way, Lana, is none of you had a choice. I do. Savage always gives me a choice. I choose him. I choose our life and what we do together. I say yes, or I say no. Not him. Me. He doesn’t have that choice, but I do. He’s always aware of it. Mine is from free will. His isn’t.”
“Does loving him give you a choice, Seychelle?”
Seychelle had already sent out her golden net and looped the notes that didn’t belong, following them back to the source. “Of course. I told you, I’m much stronger than anyone believes, and if I don’t believe Savage is as committed to us as I am, I will walk away. I refuse to have anything less than I deserve. Putting myself entirely into my relationship is scary and difficult, so I expect—even demand—that he does as well. That was a promise he made me.”
Seychelle had a little frown of concentration on her face that told Savage something wasn’t quite right. He glanced at Czar. Czar was aware that something was different as well, but he didn’t ask questions. He just waited.
The president of Torpedo Ink had sent most everyone who had been examined to their campsite for the night, leaving only his guards, mostly because they refused to leave. Savage knew that was partly because he hadn’t been examined yet and neither had Maestro. No one wanted either of them to suddenly turn on Czar.
“You didn’t spend much time at the De Sade, did you?” Seychelle said, flicking a quick glance at Absinthe.
He moved closer to Lana. Lana’s brows drew together. “I don’t think so. I’ve actually lost some time, and it bothers me. I’ve asked Maestro about it. He said we went to the De Sade together. I remember going in. I sat at the bar. A couple of guys approached me, and I waved them off.”
Savage saw the exact moment when Seychelle was able to extract the notes from Lana, but they were so faint he could barely see them.
“Maestro, will you come over here and tell us about that night?” Seychelle asked. “What you remember?”
“Sure. Lana wanted to see what all the fuss was about, and I told her I wasn’t babysitting her. I left her at the bar, but I didn’t feel right about it. I went back after a few minutes, and she was sitting with a dark-haired woman. I’d never seen her before. She was asking Lana questions about Czar. Not the club, but about him specifically. She actually used his given name, Viktor, not Czar. Lana was very uncomfortable and tried to change the subject. I could tell the woman had been at her for a little while, so I just stepped in between them. She instantly looked me up and down and gave me the submissive shit, pretending she was all about that and wanted to go with me to a private room.”