by J. R. Ward
Whereupon the good doctor had helped her into the treatment bay and shut things up tight.
Watching the exhaust rise up through the red glow reminded him of when Syn’s little ocular trick had turned everything Freddy Krueger. Who knew that vampire eyes could do that? Then again, there were all kinds of subspecies in the world.
Maybe the male had a little something else mixed in his veins. Who knew. But there was a more pressing issue with that Bastard—and not just the fact that, for some inexplicable reason, Syn had decided to take the blame for the dead human male back there in the snow.
Which was something Boone had tried to rectify in the alley. Syn had just talked over him, however, and then things had had to be sorted with the victim. But that misattribution of castration and other fun and games was going to be dealt with.
Back to Syn. When the Bastard had appeared in the alley, Boone’s memory had fired off with a connection made, but there had been no piecing together the mental triggers. Now he remembered. Last night, when he’d gone to Pyre to search for—read: look after—Helania, he had sensed a presence in the crowd that he recognized, but couldn’t immediately identify.
It had been Syn. He was absolutely certain of it.
And ordinarily, that wouldn’t have been any big deal. The Bastard might have been a full-blooded warrior, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t blow off steam around some humans. Other members of the species did go there. It was just . . . why hadn’t he mentioned it to Butch in the group text that included everybody? The Brother had been updating everyone on the investigation, and had specifically asked whether anyone had been to Pyre’s Revyval.
Maybe Syn hadn’t seen the message, though. Or had had a conversation in private?
The surgical RV’s back doors opened, and Dr. Manello stepped down into the snow. After closing things back up, he shook his head at Boone.
“Can I ask you something?” the man asked.
“Yes?”
“Did you catch the bastard who did that to her?”
“I did. And I took care of things.”
“Thank fuck. Because that poor girl . . .” The physician shook his head. “She’s in rough shape. I’m giving her an IV right now to replace fluids and get some antibiotics into her. I stitched her up where necessary, but she’s going to need follow-up with a doctor to get them all removed. And more immediately, I don’t think she has anywhere safe to go and we can’t just leave her here.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“I don’t know.” The doctor stared at the closed doors. “I’m going back in. I’ll let you know when she can have a visitor—and you, or someone else, is going to have to wipe her memories.”
How far back to go, Boone wondered as the physician reentered the RV.
Boone was still standing in the taillights when heavy footfalls brought his head around. Syn was striding toward him, the warrior’s heavy legs eating up the distance.
“The mess is gone,” he announced.
“What did you do with the body?”
“We wrapped it up and hauled it out of there. Started a trash fire on the blood in the snow. But no one’s going to give a shit—”
“Why did you cover for me?” Boone demanded. “And then not let me talk.”
Syn crossed his arms over his chest and there was a period of silence. Just as Boone was about to ask again, the Bastard nodded over his shoulder in the direction of where things had gone down.
“How often do you do that.”
Not a question. And even though Boone knew what the male was asking about, he said, “Do what?”
“Sing Christmas carols at the top of your lungs,” Syn snapped “What the fuck do you think I’m talking about?”
Boone looked away. In truth, he recognized that what he’d done with that assailant went way too far—and that was only part of the problem. The reality that he could not have stopped himself was the even bigger issue.
He was not about to talk about all that, however. “I killed him. I saved her life and I took her assailant’s—”
“You disabled the fucker and then castrated him while he was still alive. And then you started cutting pieces of him off until he died.”
“Balthazar did the same thing. You said so yourself.”
“Not even close. He toyed with a slayer. You, on the other hand, inflicted pain in a deliberate manner.”
“Splitting hairs.”
“You think? You had a victim waiting for aid, and you still had to get the suffering in, right? Even though she needed medical attention, you just had to get that release or the roar inside your body was going to destroy you. Am I right.”
Again, not a question. And Boone became acutely aware that any of the Brothers could show up out of thin air at any moment.
Boone cursed at himself. At what he had done. At the fact that the Bastard seemed to be walking around in Boone’s own skull.
Syn’s voice dropped in volume, the deep tones nearly seductive. “When you came out into the field tonight, even though you’re not supposed to be here, you would have kept going until you found something to play with. Until you got the poison out of you. Until you slaked your thirst for bloodshed.”
With a slow pivot, Boone turned to Syn. “How do you know so much about . . .”
The change in the Bastard was instantaneous. Gone was the snakelike knowing stare, as if it had never existed.
“I’m just giving you feedback on your performance,” Syn said dryly. “Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do with you trainees.”
Bullshit, Boone thought. You know exactly what I was doing in that alley. And your eyes lit up because you know how good it feels to have something at your mercy.
A sudden feeling of dread washed over Boone. “Have you ever been to Pyre’s Revyval?”
The warrior’s expression didn’t change. And his body didn’t shift. And his eyes didn’t flicker in the slightest.
“No,” he said evenly. “I haven’t.”
• • •
Helania was back at her apartment, sitting at her little kitchen table in her P.J.s, her laptop open and hard copies of work fanned out in front of her. Not that she was getting much editing done. She had been in this chair, staring into space, for how long now?
Two hours. It was a little after four a.m.
After a nice-enough meal at The 24 Hr. Diner, she had left Paradise and Craeg in the back parking lot around one-thirty. Dematerializing home, she had taken a load off on her sofa and cradled her phone in her palms like it was a crystal ball, soon to tell her what the future held.
Following about a half hour of that nonsense, she had forced herself to get up, get changed and move over here. Like this was so much more productive, her papers lying untouched on the table, her screen saver spitting bubbles out over the Word document she should have been typing into, her butt going numb.
With a stretch, she looked toward her door as if that would send vibes out into the universe that someone needed to be coming through it. And no, she wasn’t talking about old school Avon.
That black cloak hanging with her other jackets by the exit was a reminder of the distraction from her true purpose. The time wasted. The neutral that she had allowed herself to fall into.
All because of Boone. And still, she had heard nothing from him.
Pushing her chair back, she put her hands on her stomach. She’d eaten way too much at the diner, but given that she couldn’t remember when her last meal before that had been, she probably didn’t need to worry about the calories. Furthermore, it did not appear that anybody was seeing her naked tonight.
Dearest Virgin Scribe, where was Boone? What had happened to him—
Her phone started ringing, the vibration sending it on a little wander next to her laptop, and instantly, her hand snapped out to grab the thing. As she saw who it was, she exhaled a soft curse.
“Boone—”
“Helania, I am so sorry.” His voice over the connection was the
best thing she had ever heard. “I didn’t mean to miss the diner—”
“Are you okay—”
“—but I had to deal with an emergency—”
“—all I care about is—”
“—I’m fine.”
“—that you’re all right.”
They both ended there and took a deep breath at the same time. The relief was stunning as it flooded through Helania’s body, her muscles loosening, her head swimming such that she became lightheaded: She had had him dead. Maybe it was at the side of a slippery, winter road. Or downtown in an alley. Or on his bathroom floor, head struck on the edge of a porcelain tub.
Death came in so many forms, and after Isobel’s loss, Helania was worried that destiny was going to put a curse on anyone she loved—
Cared about, she amended. She couldn’t possibly love him this fast . . . right?
“Thank you so much for calling me.” She rubbed her aching head. “I was just really concerned about you.”
“May I come see you?” he asked. “I don’t have to stay the day, I just—”
“Yes, please. I would love to see—” The knock on her door was a surprise, and she turned around. “Is that you?”
“It is,” he said, his voice coming through both the phone connection and the thin panel.
Helania tossed her phone down, rushed over, and whipped things open. She didn’t even bother looking at him. She just went right against his body, and he was the same, his arms shooting around and holding her tight.
He smelled freshly showered, and his clothes were casual, as they had been the night before—not that she cared in the slightest about his wardrobe. The only thing that mattered was the way his heart beat evenly in his broad chest, his pulse strong. Healthy. Alive.
“Here, let’s go in,” he said as he moved them into her apartment.
As Boone closed the door and locked things up behind them, she put her hands to her cheeks. The flush that went through her made her dizzy, and she went over and sat on the sofa. Lowering her head between her knees, his loafers entered her field of vision as he came across to her.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I was worried you were dead.” She shook her head. “Yes, I realize that sounds crazy—”
“I’m so sorry.” His knees popped as he got down on his haunches. “I got caught up in something out in the field that I needed to see through. I called as soon as I could.”
Helania lifted her eyes and then brushed his face with her hand. “What happened?”
“It was awful.” He shifted over so he sat beside her among all the needlepoint pillows. “Human female. Badly hurt. I was downtown and she crossed right into my path. I didn’t want to get involved, I really didn’t, but then this guy came out behind her, chasing her with a knife. I couldn’t let that go.”
“Did you save her?”
“I did. And after I . . . resolved . . . things with the human male, I got her treated by the Brotherhood’s surgeon. They ended up taking her back to the training center, but she can’t stay there for long. I believe they’re exploring options in the human world for her, and hopefully, they’ll get her into a halfway house. As long as her memories are properly scrubbed, she won’t have any recollections of the species—and at least part of the trauma she went through.”
Helania reached for his hand. “She’s so lucky she ran into you. What did you do with the man? Did you turn him over to the police?”
“He won’t be a problem for her anymore. That’s all that matters.”
Helania blinked as his meaning sunk in. “Well . . . I guess it would be hard to report the crime.”
“It does get complicated and there are rules against interacting with humans. But I couldn’t let it go. Someone needed to help her.”
Helania thought of what Craeg and Paradise had said about him, that he always did the right thing.
“I’m glad you stepped up.” She smiled. “We missed you at the meal, but you were where you needed to be.”
“I didn’t mean to disappoint you,” he said gravely. “Or make you worry.”
“Everything is better now. As long as you’re okay.”
As they stared at each other, Helania was aware of a deepening of their connection, a strengthening of the tie that had been instantaneous and was somewhat inexplicable. And yet neither of them acknowledged the profound moment.
It was too soon for words to be spoken. Too scary. And yet what was happening was very real—and maybe that was why they both stayed silent. If you found a treasure, you didn’t want to shine too bright a light on it until you were sure that you weren’t going to get mugged.
Self-protection, after all, took many forms, and not all of them were cowardly.
With a murmur of something sweet and soft, Boone pulled her against his chest, and his heavy arms were so good wrapped around her shoulders and waist. “Did you enjoy yourself with Craeg and Paradise? They’re really good people.”
“You know, I actually did. I mean, I’m rusty at making conversation, but even for me, they were really easy to open up to.”
“What did you talk about?”
Tilting her head back, she looked into his eyes. “Craeg says you’re wild for me.”
The sensual smile that stretched Boone’s mouth had Big Plans written all over it. And not in a conversational sense. “Did he.”
“Are you?”
“Well, if you remember yesterday . . .” His broad hand stroked down to the curve of her waist. “I think ‘wild’ seems pretty accurate.”
“Mmmm . . .” She focused on his mouth. “Yes, if memory serves, I think that covers it, but you may need to remind me.”
“My pleasure.”
As he dropped his mouth to hers and kissed her, he tasted like toothpaste and she breathed in deep so she could smell his aftershave. The idea that he had taken care to get himself clean before coming over made her smile.
“Would you mind if we went somewhere flatter,” he said with that sexy smile of his. “And naked’er?”
Getting to her feet, she was struck by a desperate need to be with him and she pulled him off the couch with a yank. “Let’s hurry.”
“I like your attitude.”
In her bedroom, she hustled over to sit on the foot of her mattress, and then she ripped off her T-shirt. Before she could work on her boxer shorts, Boone knelt between her knees and slowed her down.
“Allow me to help you.”
As he moved up to kiss her, she wrapped her arms around his big shoulders and lifted her hips. “I just want to be naked with you.”
The growl that percolated up out of his throat was oh, so satisfying, and he wasted no time in pulling those boxers down her legs and off her feet. Then his big, callused hands were stroking up her thighs as he continued to kiss her, his tongue teasing and retreating, getting her hotter. In fact, everything seemed heightened, every shift of his body, every point of contact—and certainly each lick of that tongue of his.
Lying back on the mattress, she expected him to come with her so they could get down to business. He didn’t. Looming above her, his hands drifted over her breasts, squeezing them together and holding them in place so that the tips almost met. His mouth alternated between her hypersensitive, swollen nipples, sucking, licking, and—
The release that lightning’d through her was a shock, and she jerked her head up even as she moaned.
Meanwhile, Boone stared at her over the swell of her breasts, lids low, fangs descended, massive shoulders blocking out the view of the outer room behind him.
“That’s right,” he said in a husky voice, “come for me.”
The sight of his pink tongue extending down and running a circle around her tight, bright pink nipple was enough to leave her in thrall again. God, she had no idea where her response was coming from and she really didn’t care. Maybe it was because they had already done this a few times the day before and her inhibitions w
ere down. Maybe because it was because he had awakened her as a female.
Maybe it was just because he was hot as hell and he wanted her as much she wanted him.
When Boone finally released her breasts, she was sure he was going to mount her—and she was so ready. As incredible as her releases had been, she wanted him inside her with a greed that was as shocking as that first rogue orgasm had been.
Except . . . no.
He didn’t come up higher on her. He went lower.
Much lower.
His hands locked on her hips as his lips kissed a path down onto her ribs . . . her belly . . . her belly button . . .
As she figured out where he was headed, her legs sawed with impatience, and she arched back into the mattress, her head turning to the side so she could watch. But damn, there were times to tease, cajole, sensually build up the anticipation. This was not one of them. And she prayed he somehow knew it.
Tonight, she was not playing. Her hunger was just too strong.
Boone caressed down one of her legs and then moved it to the side, opening her up. “Helania . . .”
No preamble. Thank the Virgin Scribe. He went right in, worshipping her core with his mouth, sucking in her sex and licking deeply into her core. She came again immediately, shouting his name, fisting the quilt beneath her, contorting her body from the pleasure. And as she writhed against his face, he took everything she had to give, the slick feel of his tongue, his hot breath, his relentless attention, rocking her world.
Closing her eyes, Helania panted and groaned. Then she had to open her lids and watch him again.
As if he knew she was looking at him with wonder and heat, he deliberately licked up the center of her as he held her stare, his pink tongue and bright white descended fangs the kind of thing she was never going to forget.
But what about him? He needed—
All thought left her mind as another release rocketed through her, her undulating pelvis creating friction against his mouth, and magnifying everything.
Boone might not have been into teasing, but he sure took his time with it all. He seemed content to spend what was left of the night and all of the coming day right where he was, the purring sound he was making deep in his throat suggesting he was enjoying this as much as she was.