by Angel Payne
What an adventure this is going to be.
I can’t fucking wait.
Chapter Six
Emma
The drive up the canyon back to the ridge has never been more incredible or magical.
The air, blowing in through the open windows because Reece insists on it, is redolent with sage and lavender and night jasmine. A little bit of ocean damp mingles with the canyon’s lingering warmth, even at this late hour. As the earth spins and officially kicks over the time from one day to the next, there are distant spurts in the sky. Despite the hell that LA has endured over the last few days, Angelenos across the land insist on giving the Consortium a giant fuck-you by celebrating our nation’s independence as they’d originally planned.
It’s perfect. So perfect.
Freedom.
It’s the ideal designation for the new road Reece and I are now looking toward. As I gaze up at him, with my head against his shoulder and my hand against his blanket-covered chest, I see that truth gleaming in the gorgeous silver lights in his eyes and in the golden outline around his tousled hair. The halo is so much thicker around him than anyone else—an anomaly I first attributed to the stampede of my adrenaline after securing Faline to the floor by melting the ends of some zip ties around her wrists and ankles.
But even as I’d left her that way—after our brief but meaningful “girl talk”—and was safe in Reece’s embrace, I almost shouted at Sawyer to stop the Rover so I could go back and end things differently at the mansion. End her differently.
Another misnomer, since I chickened the hell out and haven’t “ended” her at all.
So freedom isn’t really the most perfect tag.
But maybe freedom for now will be okay?
I don’t freaking know. And can’t come to any kind of peace about that. And because of that, can’t seem to settle comfortably, no matter how magnificent the night or ideal the occasion.
Damn it.
“Hey.” Reece’s gravelly prompt, along with a gentle slide of his thumb across my cheek, are the ideal incentives for focusing back up to his devastating stare. “What is it?” he urges, drawing my attention to his full, strong mouth. The color’s returned to both his lips, as well as the masculine burnish to his cheeks, though his jawline still seems more rugged than usual, and his thick hair clings to sweat from our ordeal.
But now more than ever, he takes my breath away. So much so, I’m having trouble summoning an honest answer. Maybe any kind of an answer. I mean, is he for real? The man’s been through another round of that bitch’s hell, and yet here he is, beseeching me to go ahead and boo-hoo with my issues?
Beautiful, unbelievable man.
Devoted, daring hero.
But does he still want to be my partner too?
Does he still respect me, after every irrational decision I made today? Does he perceive me the same way at all? And do I have any right to even ask him that, just an hour after he staggered off Faline’s magical mystery lab table of horrors?
“Emmalina…” He goes for a reproving edge now, and I slice him short with a resigned sigh as Sawyer slows the Rover in front of the house. The second we stop, ’Dia’s already got the front door flung open and is all but flying out to greet us, followed in short order by Trixie, Joany, Chase, and Angelique. From the lab’s side of the driveway, Alex and Fershan escort an exhausted but grinning Wade, still blatantly basking in his moment of being the hero returned from battle.
But even as we’re immersed in warmth and embraces and concern, the ox next to me remains…well, an ox. He’s reading my thoughts better than ever, damn it. Revision. He’s probably always been this annoyingly clairvoyant; I’m just really aware of the talent now.
Astoundingly aware…
“Hey! Gang!” His shout booms into the night, sending birds out of the trees and nocturnal animals scurrying away but definitely gaining everyone’s undivided attention. After giving them all a grateful nod, though still shrouded in just a blanket, he declares in a more reasonable tone, “Look. We’re damn thankful for every single one of you”—and flicks a meaningful gaze toward Wade, Fersh, and Alex—“especially those who poured so much of their talent and courage into helping both of us today.” While winging his dazzling smile around to everyone else, he loops an arm around my neck. “But right now, Em and I need a second to break this all down for ourselves.”
As soon as he hits the middle of that sentence, I duck my head. I’m probably not the only one who heard his stress on “all,” but I’m damn sure I’m alone in understanding what it really covers.
The more for which it’s come to truly stand for.
“Oh, my sweet boy.” Trixie takes the lead on responding for the entire group. With tears turning her seafoam eyes to peridot, she approaches with both hands outstretched, cupping her son’s face with tight adoration. “You two take all the time you need. You’ve earned it.”
Reece closes his eyes for a long second, rubbing his free hand atop hers. “Thanks, Mom. I love you.”
“Not as much as I lo— Reece Andrew?”
Her flustered demand halts him as he’s scooping up my hand and heading toward the footpath leading to the lookout point beneath the peak of our memorial hill. “What?” He jogs his head back over a shoulder.
“Wh-What are you doing?”
“Taking time with Emma?” His dark brows hunch. “Like you just told me I should?”
“Not in the middle of the wilderness! In nothing but a blanket! Reece? Reece?”
I want to giggle but don’t give in until we’re well out of range of the house lights—their power now fully restored by Alex and Fersh, thank goodness—and into the silver and gray depths where night shadows are mingling with the moonlight. As we climb the path, Chase’s soothing voice drifts out on the wind. “Mom, it’s July. And he is his own personal space heater. And if something decides to bite him on the ass, it’s his own damn fault.”
Reece joins me in the laughter now, though tacks on a grunt before muttering, “Can’t help it if I have a bitable ass, can I?”
“Mmmm.” I fit myself to his side, reaching beneath the blanket to cop a generous feel. Damn. The man does possess a very nice ass. “Seems delectable to me.” So fine. So firm. So—
“Do not tempt me, woman.” He grabs my hand and then threads my fingers with his. “Yet.” He qualifies it with a wink—earning him my sultry pout.
“All right, all right,” I concede. “You win, Mr. Richards.”
“I usually do, Miss Crist.”
“Bet you’re glad that hasn’t changed now.”
He doesn’t respond for a long beat. But with low sagacity, he finally murmurs, “Aha.”
“Oh, dear.” I release the mutter as he plunks down in a small patch of wild clover. A tall sage bush flanks the area on one side while an olive tree stretches overhead from the other. “Why am I already dreading the subtext of that?”
“No subtext, Bunny.” He somehow spreads the blanket to make room for me and opens the flap to beckon me in next to him. “That’s exactly what it means.”
“Which is what?”
I make the requisition with a quiet but watchful gaze. Somehow, this feels like the most important conversation of our relationship—and there have been a lot of important ones over the last twelve months. The night he first revealed himself to me as Bolt. The day we conceived Richards Reaches Out together. The new understandings after New York. Our fight, and then unforgettable night of making up, in Paris. The hours after he went globally public about the Consortium.
All such significant moments…
All of which I’d gone into—and come out of—as a normal woman. Okay, so “normal” means something different in this man’s world, though enlightening him about that is like telling a fireman he’s got a bit of ash on his shoulder.
“Hmmm. Forget I asked that.” I pull back by a few inches, realizing we probably both need the room—but especially me as I regroup thoughts. Oddly, the blackness
of the view before us is a help. Far away, I can hear the crash of the sea upon the shore. Closer in, it’s the shoosh of the wind through the grasses and its haunting echo back through the canyon. All around me, signs and proof of life and power, though I can’t see them. It’s the same with the force now churning inside me. It’s invisible right now, but I already see it.
I already know it.
Part of me now. Defining me.
But how does it change us?
Ding, ding, ding. And there, kids, is the million-dollar question of the night.
The dilemma I already feel him reading in me. Thank God some things haven’t changed.
“So what are you asking, Emmalina?”
A deep breath. Another. And then a study of the dark beyond, borrowing from its vastness for strength. Because even though this vista is black, I still know there’s a ridge beneath us. A foundation, even in the unknown.
“Everything’s different now,” I finally utter.
“Is it?”
I shoulder-bump him. “You know what I mean.” But then scoop my head over, tucking myself against that carved, broad plateau of muscle. “So I guess I’m just wondering…”
“What?” Though Reece’s voice is rough, his demeanor is gentle. I have no way of telling him how grateful I am, besides the equally tender grasp I form around his raised knee. I don’t dare try anything more. With glaring clarity, I now understand what he goes through after intense missions. The aftereffect of burning through so much energy in such a short amount of time… It’s like when the sugar kicks in after drinking too much wine, the mellow buzz replaced by a tired but sizzling restlessness. It’s hard to stay still. It’s really hard to mind my manners. I get double points for doing so, since I’m pressed against my sculpted, sinewy, and completely naked fiancé.
But we have to talk this out. And it has to be now.
After another fortifying inhalation, I lick my lips, lift my head, and state, “I guess I’m wondering how you feel about that.”
And there it is. Bald and exposed and truthful and scary.
Especially because his answer isn’t immediate.
Which means he must either love or hate the question—a perception I can’t get an accurate reading on, even with my fab new “Emma ESP.”
So I stammer on, attempting to compensate for my wild nervousness. “Okay, so I—I guess I mean that—well, that I’m different now, so it would stand to reason that we’ll be too, so if you’re freaked out and need some time to think about it or whatever, then I underst—”
The man razes my words—and damn near all my senses—down to their scorched, charred foundations with his fierce grip to my face and his brutal possession of my lips. I don’t even get out an answering sigh because he steals it from me, breaching me with a ruthless sweep of his tongue, which possesses me with commanding force.
Dear God. I thought I’d experienced every passionate kiss in the man’s arsenal. Right now, it feels like I’ve never kissed him—or anyone else. My senses are like virgin grass beneath a forest fire, seared to the roots and then exposed for punishment by all the elements. It hurts, but I’ve never felt more alive. It’s hot, but I’ve never wanted more blisters.
Sound finally tumbles from me in the form of a protesting moan when he pulls away and we can both suck down some air. He answers my dissent with a maddening, mesmerizing smile. His perfect white teeth glow against the gloom, an ideal accompaniment for the silver sparks in his eyes.
“My beautiful Velvet,” he murmurs, a soft chide in his voice. “Of course I’m freaked out.”
“Oh.” I stutter it out in three separate parts. “Um. Okay…”
“But why is that a bad thing?” He twists to face me fully, going nearly crisscross with his legs. Only with sheer force of will do I keep my stare from dropping into the gap between his timber-log thighs. My climbing libido will not be able to handle the sight of the perfect treasure there…
“Well, it wasn’t like you had any warning about this.” I’m bemused by how defined I now am, thirty seconds after bumbling through my sentences. “And I know it probably wasn’t the best-thought-out plan, but when I got back here, all that filled my mind were images of them dragging you away into Faline’s torture chamber…”
So much for clarity and composure. Tears take over my voice, and not delicate little princess ones either.
“Ssshhh,” Reece consoles, spreading his hand to the back of my neck and kneading me steadily there. “It’s all right, baby. I get it. I know.”
“I felt so helpless,” I grate. “After my shitty call had landed you back in your worst nightmare…”
“A nightmare you had to endure too,” he counters. “Apparently twice—and willingly volunteering yourself for the repeat ride too.”
I swallow hard. “Just as you did.” And I don’t hide the subtle accusation in my voice.
“Yeah.” He presses harder on my neck, pulling me closer to feather his full lips across my forehead. “Just as I did—and as I would all over again, given the same set of circumstances courtesy of that deranged witch.”
I slide my eyes shut, savoring the feeling of having him so close and big and near, before steeling myself for being the one that’s likely about to blow it to shreds. “Reece?”
“Hmmm?”
“I…I didn’t kill her.” I dot that stunner with a soft wince, hoping it sufficiently relays everything I can’t add out loud. I couldn’t. I have no idea why. She doesn’t deserve to live. I would’ve been doing the entire world a favor. But—
“I know.”
“You do?” I blurt it at his throat, since he still hasn’t stopped his caressing kisses across my eyebrows.
“From the second you got into the Rover, yes.” He drops his head so our gazes are completely aligned. “Despite the fact that you were still glowing like my avenging angel, there was still too much of you left.” A thoughtful intensity takes over his face. “Taking someone else’s life… There’s part of a person that gets lost along with that,” he utters. “A part I’m not sure ever comes back.” As a few blue and gold fireworks burst over the ocean, turning the faraway haze in his eyes to similar shades, he adds with quiet ferocity, “So, in a lot of ways, I’m damn glad you didn’t do it. What?” he cuts in on himself, addressing my bewilderment. “Aren’t you?”
With slow deliberation, I raise my fingertips to the edge of his jaw. His skin is electric vibrancy beneath the spikes of his stubble, and I lift a small smile as his energy resonates inside me…deeper and more significantly than ever before. “You…thought I looked like an angel?”
At once, I’m aware of the renewed sprint of his pulse, the harder concentration of his senses, the spiked sorcery of his allure. While the man has always hypnotized me, this is a new spell completely. A new elevation of attraction. As the awareness hits me, I’m also awakened to how everything inside me answers him. The magic in my spirit. The devotion of my soul.
And oh, holy hell…the heat in my body.
None of them are separate from each other anymore, even by the smallest fraction. Each feeds my undeniable connection to him. My perfect fusion to him.
Liquid silver thickens in the depths of Reece’s gaze, seeming to inundate his whole face before turning into poetry on his lips. “My angel,” he whispers, stroking the pad of a thumb across my cheek. “And so much more.” He pushes in, leaning forward until he rolls me all the way to my back, stretched out in all his flawless nudity next to me. “Every day with you has been a heaven in itself, Emmalina Crist. But now…”
He interrupts himself with a harsh growl as his words flow into me, surging light and energy through me…literally. A stunned gasp escapes me, blending with his eruption, as the space between us is suddenly suffused with molten, golden light.
Light that’s coming from me. From all of me, as we discover together when Reece reaches and jerks down the zipper of my leather jacket. I’m braless underneath, since the rush to rescue him didn’t exactly i
nclude time for a leisurely riffle through my lingerie drawer. That means the full beam of my torso is exposed to the night.
And I do mean beam.
“Holy…shit,” I rasp, taking in how every pore of my skin is like one of those dorky tap lights, only without a dimmer option. “I’m a damn glowworm.” Oh, yeah. There’s only one setting to this desk lamp, and it’s holy-shit-turn-that-thing-off bright.
Only that’s not the exclamation that spills out of my man, who leans over me looking like a jubilant, resplendent god. In the radiance from my skin, every bold angle of his face is defined. The fog in his eyes gives in to a billion strands of expressive lightning.
“You’re fucking stunning.” He pushes feverishly at both sides of my jacket. “Take it off. Now. I need to see all of you.”
As I sit up, obliging just because he sounds so much like a kid on Christmas morning, he’s already twisting at the button on my pants. Regrettably, the fit there is much tighter, and even the two of us working in passionate tandem don’t shuck them very quickly.
“Screw it,” he finally snarls, pushing me once more down to my back. The second I’m there, he snaps his fingers. At once, those graceful tips ignite into bright-blue sparks. “Hold still.”
An order easier given than obeyed. Much easier. As his blue bolts shred apart my pants, the residual lightning dances along my bare skin, and it’s all I can do to not squirm in delight as my nerve endings pop wide, empowered and enkindled. “Damn!” I exclaim. “Oh, damn!”
Reece declares the same thing at the same time—making me jerk my sights back up. “Oh, holy shit,” I blurt, taking in the pumps of his chest and the wide part of his lips. “You are freaked out.”
“Bet your sweet, amazing ass I am.” He hurls aside what’s left of my pants before lunging back over me. “And dear fucking God, I never want to be unfreaked again.”
“Reece…” But I’m already stammering into silence, questioning if I’ll ever be able to form coherent words again. With electrical storms taking over his gaze and his entire hands joining his fingers for the blue light show, he’s as much a celestial miracle he’s just called me. My rugged resplendent angel strips every breath from my lungs, thought from my mind, and sense from my head. All that’s left is raw, blinding belief—in everything I never thought possible. In a love I never thought conceivable.