Page 58 of Wired Strong

Pim Wat presented him with his cup of tea on a saucer, complete with a small silver spoon on the side. The tea, an aged Darjeeling, smelled wonderful. “I thought you could add your own honey.”

“Thank you, Mistress.” He took the cup and saucer but set it down quickly because his hands were shaking.

The Master frowned. “I see the shift in your energy field. You’re considering taking their offer.”

“I would never betray you that way, Master.” Connor reached for the rose-embossed honey bowl.

“Yes, you would, if Pim Wat’s daughter was in the offing.” The Master accepted his teacup from Pim Wat. She seated herself on one of the slender gold Louis XIV chairs across from their table, her lips curved in a smile that did not bode well.

“What do you mean?” Connor folded his arms and rested his elbows on the table, studying the board and containing himself with difficulty.They were baiting him!

“Jake is dead, and you still want Sophie,” Pim Wat said baldly.

“I won’t discuss this withyou,” Connor snarled.

“Oh, your lapdog has fangs,” Pim Wat told the Master, laying a hand on his sleeve. “He doesn’t like me.”

Connor pulled his self-control together—he was in a far deadlier game right now than chess. “I respect you. That is enough.”

“Thatisenough,” The Master echoed. He gestured. “Drink your tea. Make your move.”

“No.” Connor’s heart pounded; his mind scrabbled. “I won’t drink anything that woman’s hand has touched.”

Pim Wat’s laugh was sexy, musical and all a woman’s laugh should be. Worst of all, it reminded him of Sophie’s laugh. “You’re wise, Number One.”

The Master turned to her. “I’ve chosen him, Pim Wat! This wasn’t the plan.”

Pim Wat pouted. “We cannot trust him. You need a new Number One.”

Connor slowly released a breath.She was trying to poison him, too!Where was the poison? In the honey? In his cup?

But maybe the two of them would still drink their tea . . . he had to buy time.

Connor gripped his knees because the tremble in his hands had increased. “What have I done to displease you, Mistress?”

“You love my daughter more than you love the Master. Your loyalty is to her.” Pim Wat set her teacup aside.

Connor looked at the Master, and discovered that the man’s penetrating purple gaze was intent upon him. “My Beautiful One has a point. Perhaps I do need a new Number One.”

“No. I am loyal to you alone, Master.” The words tasted like sawdust. Neither of them was fooled. Connor reached for his cup.He had to take a risk. “Together, the three of us make the Yam Khûmk?n strong. Let us toast to our partnership. I will show my loyalty.” He raised his teacup. “But I won’t drink this tea without knowing you believe in me enough to drink, too.”

Chapter Forty-Two

Connor

Connor held his teacup aloft,waiting, staring into the Master’s deep purple eyes. He felt the man’s extraordinary abilities sifting over and through him, searching for any weakness, for the secret he was desperately hiding.

“I, for one, have no problem with this bargain. To health.” Pim Wat lifted her cup to her mouth and took a sip.

The Master moved so quickly that Connor scarcely registered it as he smashed the cup away from Pim Wat’s lips. She cried out as the teacup hit the wall and smashed, and the hot liquid spilled over her open robe.

The Master lunged across the table for Connor. His hands gripped Connor’s throat, squeezing. “You tried to kill us. You are no longer my Number One.”

Black dots closed in, encircling Connor’s vision.

From deep inside Connor, a wellspring of will, determined not to go down, boiled up and strengthened him. Connor slowed time, just as the Master had sped it up seconds before. His hands pushed up between the Master’s arms, breaking the hold on his neck.

Connor sprang to his feet, employing all of his strength and abilities as he leaped up with a kick that tossed the chessboard into the air, and caught the Master on the side of the chin. The man flew backward and did a flip, landing on his feet in a ready position as the chess pieces bounced and crashed around them.

---