Cold Moon Rising

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Cold Moon Rising Page 20

by Cathy Clamp


  “I’d like to start doing fieldwork. I really think I’d like that.”

  Okay, I wasn’t expecting that. “Fieldwork. Like as a Wolven agent?” She nodded and I had to draw in a sharp breath. I raised a hand to rest against my mouth and chin while I thought and let out the breath slowly. “Wow. Um. I can’t imagine that anyone would approve that, even if I did. Hell, they don’t even like me working on cases because I’m a three-day. You’re full human. You’d get eaten for lunch out there, sweetheart . . . literally.”

  She wasn’t deterred though. Her scent wasn’t disappointed or even afraid, still just determined. I couldn’t decide what I thought about it. The wolf part of me was terrified, because she was my mate and could die. The old mobster in me was proud of her for asking, but still chauvinistic enough to want to say no . . . like Carmine would say no if Linda wanted to start running part of the business. Qualified or not.

  And . . . like he’d probably said no when she wanted to order the hit. I’d have to talk to him. I knew that now.

  Her voice stayed calm and sure. Apparently, she’d worked out her arguments long ago, waiting for just the right time to bring it up. “But not every case has needed a heavy hand, or even magic. A lot of them got solved with just information and the person turned themselves in voluntarily.”

  I held up an amending index finger, because she was only seeing half the picture. “Not quite. The information is often gotten because of the threat of the heavy hand that’s doing the asking. And the person turned themself in to avoid being tracked and slaughtered.”

  “Not every time.”

  I nodded in agreement. “True. But you talk about the agents returning bloody. That’s the norm, not the exception, hon. How many scars do I have now compared with when we met? The being-cut-up-with-claws-and-teeth crap never used to happen when I was working for Camine. Now it’s nearly every day. How much time do you want to spend in the E.R.? ‘Cause a healer’s not always available and you won’t heal for shit.”

  Her face shut down and I didn’t have to be hooked to her mind to know she was frustrated. It’s the opposite of determined, so it smells of hot metal, rather than cold. Sort of like wiring burning inside the walls. “So you’re saying no.”

  I waved my hands in front of my face, starting to get a little pissed now. “Whoa, whoa. Don’t make me out to be the villain in this play. I didn’t say any such thing. I’m only stating the facts. If they don’t play nice with the script you’ve been writing in your head, that’s not my fault. I’d love to have you excited about something. Hell, if you want to be a policewoman, go for it. But Wolven? That’s like showing up for the Olympics before your first amateur match.”

  Now her voice turned sarcastic and biting, but underneath it was the scent of sorrow, so I decided to listen really close. “I’m dead, remember? Nobody hires dead people. Don’t you think I know I can’t afford to have my background or fingerprints checked? Everything I’ve ever trained for is in finance, and they do intensive background checks. Every single company. Maybe Lucas fixed everything in my background, maybe not. But I don’t dare check, and I would be too afraid to ask him if he did it right. Y’know?”

  Crap. The reality of that hit me like a blow to the head. It wasn’t just that I was stopped from doing my illegal job, she couldn’t even apply for a legitimate one without going through the meat grinder of the post–9/11 system. “Shit. Look, Sue. I haven’t even been thinking about your side of it and I should have. You’re not like Linda and I should know that.”

  She sighed and leaned back against the headboard with a sad expression. “Sometimes I wish I could be like her. She can spend a full week just shopping and buying things, or lazing around the pool reading book after book. If she wants to start a new business, poof! It’s opened, no expense spared and no questions asked by officials at any level. If it folds, then it’s, ‘Oh well. No great loss.’ ” She shook her head. “I just can’t do that. I have to do something, and I want it to have meaning. Wolven has meaning. It’s important . . . agents stop wars and keep people safe. I want to do that, and I think I could.”

  I was willing to listen, against my better judgment. Maybe this was a midlife crisis, or a near-death experience. Risk taking was pretty common after both. But to deny it now would only make it worse later, and this time I might be able to control enough that she wouldn’t die. “Okay, tell you what. Let’s go have breakfast downstairs and you can tell me what you have in mind. If there’s any possibility of making it work, I’ll try to come up with some buzz words that might win you a friend or two on the council to sponsor the idea.”

  She smiled and leaned forward, all tangerines and cinnamon spice that blended nicely with the vanilla perfume. “I knew you’d listen. Tahira said you’d scream and rant at me and say it was a stupid idea, but that’s not you.”

  No. It wasn’t me. Screaming and ranting come out of fear—whether fear of losing control over another person, or fear of loss. I wasn’t afraid of either one, so there was no need to rant. I didn’t want to control Sue, and I’ve been struggling with my fear of losing her for a year. Nothing new there. A light brush of lips sealed the deal, but it wasn’t enough. I slid my hand behind her head and pulled her mouth against mine. Scent and taste rolled into one and I was lost in her body and mind. The door opened, if it had ever truly closed, and it was like our very first kiss was rediscovered. Soft lips, strong jaw, delicate, probing tongue.

  She tasted minty and sweet and . . . salty. Yeah, salted cashews, or maybe walnuts. But where had she found walnuts in the hotel?

  So sweet . . . like the honey from the bees that swarmed through the gardens behind the palace. Her venom danced across my tongue like bubbles from champagne, and made me just as giddy.

  I pulled back from the kiss and stared into her eyes, those too-blue eyes, the color of the finest lapis stones from the quarries near her home. What had possessed me to pull her into my arms and kiss her? It was as though I couldn’t control my own actions. While there was nobody to see us on the sofa in the back of the custom plane, Nasil would most definitely smell any arousal. And how could I not be aroused?

  “Rimush.” The whispered name struck my chest like a knife, but not for the reason she probably expected.

  “Rimush is dead, Tuli. He died long ago. For better or worse, I am Ahmad. I chose my name when I chose my path. There is no going back.”

  She ran a slow fingernail across my neck, then farther and farther down the open neck of my shirt. When had it become unbuttoned to nearly my waist? I couldn’t help the shiver that raced over my skin from the tingle of her magic, far stronger than I’d remembered it. I’d never expected her to be alive after so many centuries. She was a lesser princess, with no particular magic to make her a valuable commodity to her father the king. She should be dead by now.

  But she’s not. She’s right here with me. And nobody is here. I pulled back my hand from where it rested just underneath the fold of her breast. They were still firm and taut under the tight green tank top, with no indication she’d ever nursed a child. Had my father never allowed her even that?

  “Ahmad.” She tried out the name. “It’s a good name, I suppose. But I don’t understand why you gave up your true name, your home, your . . . throne. You just disappeared, and we believed you dead for a very long time.” A pause and then she shook her head. “Ahmad al-Narmer. It makes no sense. How can you be from a man, not even your father, instead of a place? King Narmer was a fine ruler, but he was no Sargon of Akede. Your very name is a slap in the face of your family.”

  “Yes,” I replied, my voice once again dripped with disdain for the man and his ideals. “It is. It was intended to be. I didn’t just disappear, Tuli. I was forced out, stripped of my title, of my name—banished forever for bringing shame to his throne.”

  Now she looked truly confused and reared back in her seat. I’d forgotten how her emotions showed on her face so easily, while I’d schooled myself for centuries to show noth
ing at all. “Shame? But you were an icon of the people. The hero of the northern war who turned back the invaders and brought us new lands. You were the emissary to the great meeting of shifters . . . even learning the languages so you could speak on behalf of the snakes. You brought glory to all Akede by securing your father a seat on the first council of leaders.”

  All true, which is why it had been such a shock to me. “My shame had little to do with my own actions, I’m afraid. No. It was a small bobcat that was my undoing. We were to be a marriage between two great houses—the snakes and the lions. The girl was a half-breed, but a powerful seer and Father wanted her talents for his great mission. But she refused the offer, slaughtered the escort I provided for her, shunned the gifts of gold and slaves, and fled. I was forced to return home a failure. He cast me out quietly, in the dark of night, with a price on my head if I returned.”

  Tuli was open-mouthed, which was almost charming. The shock in her scent told me this truly was news to her. I should be surprised that Father had never told anyone. But I wasn’t. Just like I wasn’t surprised . . . now that Josette Monier, the cat in question, had refused me. She’d seen Father’s goals and treachery even back then. I knew that now. But I couldn’t imagine her abilities back then. I still hate her, will always hate her for the life she stole from me. But I couldn’t blame her. Not really.

  Tuli’s voice made my muscles twitch and I felt a swelling of something like pride inside at the intensity of her outrage. “She refused you? A prince who might someday rule an empire that stretched across most of Europe? You should have killed her for that insult!”

  My own chuckle caught us both by surprise. “Oh, I’ve tried. Trust me. She’s not so easily killed. As I say, she’s a seer with powerful foresight. It’s difficult to sneak up on her, and there’s no defeating her in a fair fight. The lion in her is strong.”

  She was silent for a moment and then asked quietly, “So Narmer took you in? Is that why you chose his name as your own?”

  I felt my head nodding and realized my hand had crept over to where it was covering hers. The olive skin was so very soft and I couldn’t help but trace my thumb over the pulse point of her wrist the tattoo of the order feeling slightly cooler than her skin. There was a frantic flutter as I did. And those blue eyes . . . they’d haunted me for so many years after I fled. “Rather than be publicly whipped and chased through the streets of cities and villages, I left Akede as Father demanded. He had that power back then, if you remember, with Nasil at his side to support his edicts among the populace. I wandered for a long time in the desert, a nomad filled with self-loathing and shame. But Narmer took me in when I finally asked to be allowed to settle—offered me a post as an adviser even though I was a man without a country, without a name. Frankly, I’d fully expected Father to send runners ahead of me to announce my banishment to the neighboring empires so I’d be forced to wander forever. But I wasn’t even worth that much time and trouble. I was simply forgotten, left to fend on my own. We didn’t see or speak for close to a thousand years, while I lived and served in the house of another. Narmer and his brethren taught me things that Father had no concept of—tolerance, patience, and leadership without the fear of the people. The man I became was because of him, not Sargon. I couldn’t hold my seat on the council now without the skills I learned from a foreign king. While some of the deceit and violence that were my father’s legacy have also served me, I honor Narmer instead. So in a way, you weren’t lied to. Rimush is dead. He has been for a very long time.” It was strange how little the recitation bothered me. I’d fully expected to feel anger and shame roil up again, even after this long. But it didn’t. Maybe it was the satisfaction of knowing I’d had a hand in his death that had also exorcized the demons that had chased me.

  I stared out the window of the high-tech jet, watching the blinking lights far below fade back to the blackness that had existed since the dawn of time.

  We were quiet for a moment, each thinking our own thoughts, so it surprised me when Tuli lifted my hand and pressed it to her lips. There were tears falling from her face to land on my skin and I suddenly couldn’t think what to say. All I could do was turn my hand in her grip to raise her chin and look into her eyes with a smile that said she didn’t need to pity or feel sorrow for me. She reached up with her other hand to stroke the side of my face, and when she pulled me forward into another kiss, I let her.

  With age has come experience, so each careful touch was meant to bring intense sensation. My magic could be feather or whip, and I really didn’t care whether Nasil heard Tuli’s moans as I refamiliarized myself with the taste of her skin, the curves of her body, and the delight of her cries. I wasn’t quite willing to go so far as to remove my clothes and bed her right here, but a great many pleasures can be had without revealing skin.

  I could tell she was fighting her desire. She also hadn’t planned on going this far, but something about letting me proceed was both terrifying and deeply arousing to her. When I unbuckled her seat belt, the muscles in her stomach twitched under the camouflage trousers and her fingers convulsed in my hair. Pushing her backward into the soft leather cushions and tracing my hand heavily along her muscled thigh caused a whimper and made her come up for air from the kiss.

  “Ahmad, I can’t.”

  That widened my eyes and forced me to ask, “Why? Are you married? Betrothed to someone?”

  She shook her head and bit at her bottom lip while staring carefully at my neck. But her protests weren’t quite enough to keep her from sliding her hand across my chest under the shirt and flicking my nipple with her fingernail. I responded in kind and felt her shudder.

  I dipped my mouth to her ear and let out a slow, rolling hiss that brought a new tightness to her nipple, slowly being tormented between my thumb and forefinger. “Tell me, Tuli. What would happen if I took you again after all these years?”

  “It’s . . . it’s not something I can talk about right now. I just can’t.”

  I waited for a long moment, but there was no elaboration, so apparently that was all the answer I was going to get. She fought through her attraction until all that was left was confusion and embarrassment. I rose up off her, reluctantly letting my hand move away from her silken skin. “Very well. I’ve no need to force myself on a woman. If the feelings we once shared are gone, there’s nothing more to say.”

  She opened her mouth to reply, a startled look on her face. But then she closed her mouth again, tight-lipped to avoid speaking whatever had tried to rise to the surface.

  I moved away from her, buttoning my shirt as I did. “Perhaps it’s time I checked on Nasil. He’ll probably want a break from flying soon. I’ll leave . . .”

  . . . leave, Tony? I shook my head, pulling myself away from what Ahmad had been doing to the woman in the plane. Can you hear me? Don’t we have to leave?

  I pressed fists to my eyes, trying to scrub away the image of the plane floating in front of me. It had at least frozen in place, so I wasn’t hearing and seeing them.

  When I could finally open my eyes back to my own reality, Sue was lying under me on the bed, looking rather disheveled and hazy. The digital clock on the nightstand said another half hour had flown by. I had a raging hard-on, and she looked like I’d been doing to her what Ahmad had been doing to Tuli. Just great. “Goddamn it,” I muttered. “I’m getting sick and fucking tired of being trapped in someone else’s wet dreams.”

  I rolled off her and raised a finger and then made shooing motions to make her leave while I tried to think of things that would get rid of this erection without having another round of sex. Not that I minded the thought of sex again, but I had to beat this without giving in to it every time. My only consolation was knowing that Ahmad was probably going through the same thing at thirty thousand feet.

  Fortunately, the usual things worked to bring my libido to a standstill: mental images of my high school gym teacher, a creepy old guy who spent way too much time in the locker room showers watchin
g us. And then there was the horse-faced nun who’d slapped my wrist with a ruler every time I asked a question in Sunday School. Finally was Carmine, slashed and bleeding on the floor of a condo.

  Okay, that did it.

  Sue had done as I asked. She stayed quiet and left the bed to go comb the tangles out of her hair and touch up her makeup. Once I’d thrown down the rest of the lukewarm coffee from the four-cup maker on the table, I was just about back to normal.

  We didn’t really talk until we were almost out the door. Then she made a comment, real casual-like, that made me want to pound my head on the wall. “For what it’s worth, you’re a really good kisser when you’re Ahmad.”

  But a second later, I stopped cold, right in the hallway, and pointed the car key at her chest. I hadn’t said his name when I shooed her away. “Why did you say ‘Ahmad’? What was I doing while I was kissing you? Was I talking?” That would be something entirely new, as would Sue being along for the ride into his head. Would that mean she could also see hindsights now when I was doing them?

  The question made her freeze, brows raised and mouth open in a small ‘O’. She stared at me, and then the floor, and she finally wound up tapping her foot on the carpet, hands on hips. “I don’t really know. Let me think about it for a minute.”

  Fair enough. I turned to walk and she did too. We got in the car, breakfast forgotten, and drove silently until we were nearly at the clinic. Time was ticking by way too fast and I knew Charles wanted me to drive the kid to the airport. I didn’t know how many flights there were per day to New Jersey from Denver, but I was betting it wasn’t many.

  There were a ton of things rolling around in my head, but seeing a narrow cutoff at the edge of the Sazi land made me remember our earlier conversation—before the whole Ahmad-nearly-getting-laid episode. I turned down the road and had to slam on the brakes to avoid a big pothole.

  “Where are we going? This isn’t the way to the clinic.”

 

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