by Sarah Fine
As he bowed his head and kissed her neck, his fingers slipping along the seam of her panties, she bit down hard on the inside of her cheek. The pain was just enough to keep her sane and focused. She skimmed her other arm around his waist, flipped the cap off the injector pen, and, with a regretful, silent apology to Eli, stabbed it into the round, hard muscle of his butt.
Eli jerked in her arms and froze. Cacy pulled the pen away from his skin, pressed the lid closed, and cleared her throat. “It had to be done, Eli. You needed it.”
His hand was still on her breast, and he rolled her nipple gently between his finger and thumb, sending jolts of pure pleasure straight to her core. He raised his head and made sure she was looking at him. “I guess the joke was on me? This was all a distraction so you could jam a needle in my ass?”
This was it. Her out. She could pull away and make light of it. And thank God he hadn’t gotten her panties off, because if his fingers had slipped between her legs, he would have felt exactly how much she wanted him, exactly how ready she was, exactly how far this was from a joke. Maybe he’d buy that it was just a trick. Sure, he would hate her, but it would protect them both. She had secrets to keep. He had a life to live. And he was probably safer leading it away from her. Especially now.
His hand slid down her belly and around her hips, and her body responded automatically, flexing forward, hungry for him. “Are you going to lie to me, Cacy?” His voice was low in her ear, and she shivered.
All right, maybe he wouldn’t buy it after all.
“Cacy? Eli?” Dec’s voice echoed off the tiles.
Cacy spun herself away from Eli and stepped out of the stall. Dec’s eyes went wide. “What are you doing?”
Cacy held out the spent injector pen and pointed to the small pile of used supplies at her feet. “I was making sure you didn’t lose a good paramedic to botulism, cholera, leptospirosis, or typhoid. You?” She licked her lips, hoping they weren’t too swollen from Eli’s kiss. God, that man could kiss. She folded her arms over her chest.
Dec nodded, but his eyes skimmed over her dripping-wet clothes and hair. “Is he all right?”
“I’m fine, Chief,” called Eli from the stall, sounding perfectly friendly, though Cacy could detect the edge in his voice.
“Glad to hear it,” answered Dec. He looked back at Cacy. “Concussion?”
“Mild. Pupils equal and reactive to light. Oriented to person, place, and time.” She continued to rattle off information about Eli’s physical and mental condition, hoping to bore Dec into leaving them alone. She hadn’t yet decided what she wanted to say to Eli, and she knew they weren’t done talking. But Dec stood there, listening, annoyingly attentive.
“I can call a company car for him. He doesn’t need to ride the bus home,” Dec said when she was finished. “Are you sure he doesn’t need a scan?”
“No scan needed, sir,” called Eli. The water switched off.
Cacy picked the towel up from the floor and held it out to Eli without looking in his direction. He took it from her. She heard the wet slap of his boxer briefs hitting the floor of the stall and had to force herself not to turn toward him.
Dec was staring at Cacy with a distinctly suspicious gleam in his eye. “You went a bit over and above tonight,” he said softly.
She glared at him. “He’s my partner.”
“You punched our night supervisor. And kneed him in the balls. And kicked him. You broke one of his ribs, Cace.”
She shrugged. “I’ll send him flowers. What are you going to do, fire me?”
“Don’t tempt me,” he growled.
Eli stepped from the stall, the towel slung low on his waist. Cacy swallowed hard, rocked by her lingering, unsated desire. But Eli didn’t look at her. His eyes were focused on Dec. “I’m sorry about the fight, Chief.”
Dec gave Eli an appraising look. “Manny has a cracked rib, too. And Gil’s pretty banged up. You took three of my paramedics off the roster for Monday. Want to tell me why?”
Eli stared at Dec’s feet. “Manny and Gil were self-defense, sir. Len is more debatable.” Eli didn’t see it, because his eyes were on the floor, but Cacy saw Dec working hard not to laugh at Eli’s cryptic assessment. She wondered what the fight was really about. Eli raised his head. “I’d appreciate it if you gave me another chance, though I’ll understand if you want to transfer me.”
Cacy’s mouth dropped open. “You are not getting transferred.”
Dec put his hands on his hips, any humor erased from his face. “Isn’t that my call?”
Cacy clenched her teeth. “You’re not transferring him. I know Len, and this was his fault. Three against one! How is that fair? And I bet—”
Dec held up his hands. “Cacy. It’s been an incredibly long day for all of us, and I think it’s time to go home. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.” Dec was using his superpatient voice, which meant he was one smartass comment away from losing his shit. Cacy didn’t argue further.
Eli touched her shoulder. The look on his face was so sad that it stole her breath. “Thanks for looking out for me, Cacy. I really appreciate it.” His hand fell away from her, and he walked down the hall and into the locker room without a backward glance.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Eli turned down Dec’s offer of a company car and took the bus, unable to stomach more exposure to the Psychopomps empire. It only reminded him how far he was from Cacy’s world. He leaned back against the hard vinyl seat and closed his eyes, trying to will away the throb in his head. And in other places. He was still trying to figure out which parts of this evening had actually happened. Thoughts swirled and gusted in his brain, splitting apart and leaving odd gaps. He remembered the taste of whiskey. The flash of Cacy’s smile. The aching sight of her dancing with tears in her eyes. The satisfaction of his fist smashing into Len’s face. The sick, tilting feeling of falling. Glowing red eyes. A bone-splintering chill and the comfort of Cacy’s arm around his waist, pulling him close. All of it was hazy and seemed only half-real.
But those moments in the shower . . . he was pretty certain they had been branded into his memory forever. He’d been out of it, dizzy and hurting, barely able to remember how he’d gotten there, but Cacy’s touch had made it all go away. While her hands were on him, while her smooth skin was beneath his fingers, all he could think of was her scent, her taste. Her.
And apparently, all she’d been thinking of was injecting him with an antibiotic.
But . . . he’d been certain there was real desire in her eyes, certain he’d felt the eager quiver of her body as he’d touched her. It had been enough to make him forget everything else, to make him willing to risk everything for a chance with her. Then it had all turned out to be a distraction. Another distraction. That’s what Cacy was all about. Drawing attention away from what was really going on.
He couldn’t handle it anymore. He’d been seconds away from taking her right there in the shower stall. Seconds from getting caught by her brother.
On Monday, when he returned to work, he was going to ask Dec to transfer him. Or to place him with a different partner. No matter how much he loved working with Cacy, his feelings for her were going to get him in trouble. Knowing she felt nothing for him made it both better and worse.
He trudged up the hallway toward his apartment, but the door opened before he could reach it. “Oh, thank God. I was worried!” Galena came jogging down the hallway, took the bag of ruined clothes from him, and ducked under his arm.
“What are you talking about? You knew I’d be late.” He leaned against her gratefully.
“Cacy called me. She got my number from your emergency contacts. She told me what happened.”
Eli winced at the mention of her name. “And I’m sure she made it sound worse than it actually is.”
Galena laughed as she helped him through the doorway of their unit. “She said you�
�d make it sound better than it actually is.” She guided him into his bedroom and pointed to his uniform, which had been the only clean thing he had to wear home. “Do you need help getting that off?”
“I’m not an invalid,” he snapped, then instantly regretted his tone. “I’m sorry, G. It’s been such a long night.” He fell back on his bed.
“Are you not going to be up for tonight?” she whispered.
Tonight? Oh, shit. The fund-raiser. He squeezed his eyes shut. No, he wasn’t up for it. “I wouldn’t miss it. After some sleep I’ll be good as new.”
Galena leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. “You are the best little brother ever.”
Because I have the best big sister. He sighed as he heard her walk away and shut the door. With shaking hands, he unzipped his uniform and peeled it off, then collapsed back on his bed and welcomed the smothering blanket of unconsciousness that descended over him.
He dreamed of Cacy. That spicy scent, her warmth, so real. He let it take him, didn’t even try to fight it. He didn’t have the strength. And he wasn’t sure he wanted to. Her hands were on his face, on his arms, stroking. I’m here, she said. I’m here.
He smiled, wishing it were true, because that would mean he meant something to her. She smoothed the hair from his face, kissing his eyelids and nose. Be all right, she whispered. Please be all right.
He felt her body against his, her arm around his waist, her head on his shoulder. He let the lush heat of her roll over him, thinking this was all he wanted from her—this closeness, this warmth. Don’t go, he wanted to say. I’ll do anything. Just don’t go.
Her breath was on his neck. I’m here.
He sank into the feeling, the dream of Cacy pressing him into a deep ocean of rest.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Cacy’s head jerked up as her phone buzzed. Her fingers fumbled to silence the thing as quickly as possible. Silencing her pounding heart was another matter entirely. For a moment, she kept perfectly still, until she was assured she hadn’t been detected. Then she looked down at her phone. A text from Aislin.
Come to Psychopomps. We need to talk.
Cacy grimaced. She wanted to talk to Aislin about as much as she wanted to drink canal water, but maybe her sister had some information about the Ker who’d Marked their father. Or the missing footage of the attack. Maybe the mystery had been solved.
She tucked her phone back into her pocket and allowed her eyes to return to the man sleeping next to her. The text had been the wake-up call she needed.
This was the last place she should be.
Her plan had been to check in on Eli only to make sure he was still breathing, still alive.
For the second time in less than a day, she’d broken the rules and used her Scope for something other than her formal duties as a Ferry. She’d sneaked through the Veil and into his room. Where he’d been sleeping. Naked.
Too much temptation. She’d climbed through the Scope and entered the warmth of the real world. She’d been sitting next to him all morning, watching the rise and fall of his chest, the pulsebeat in his neck. But it hadn’t been enough, so she’d held his hand and felt its warmth, touched his face and heard him sigh, kissed his cheek and watched his lips curve into a heartbreaking smile. She’d wanted to run her hands over him so badly she’d balled them into fists.
Cacy stood up and pulled the sheet from the foot of the bed. She spread it over him, regretfully covering his gorgeous—if somewhat bruised—body. His breaths were even, and his eyes moved beneath his lids as he dreamed. His temperature had remained steady, judging by the lush warmth of his skin and the healthy color in his cheeks. No fever. No chills. “You’ll be fine,” she whispered, mostly to reassure herself.
She stared at his face, that peaceful expression, knowing he wouldn’t look like that the next time he saw her. He’d probably scowl. He’d probably turn away. He had every right to. It seemed like she hurt him every time they were together, without meaning to.
I’d better leave before I do it again.
On impulse, she leaned over and kissed his forehead, letting her lips linger against his skin, an intimacy she did not deserve. She straightened and pulled her Scope from around her neck. It was a familiar burden in her palm as she opened a portal into the Veil, and then another that took her back to her apartment. From there, she took a company car to Psychopomps.
The grim expression on the face of Walter, the weekend receptionist, instantly told her something was wrong. “Good afternoon, Ms. Ferry,” he said. “Your sister is expecting you.”
Cacy nodded at him as she reached the elevators and hit the button for Aislin’s floor. As the COO, Aislin oversaw the activities of the fifty thousand Ferrys of Psychopomps Inc., as well as their relationships with both foreign governments and supernatural entities. She’d just taken over the job from Rylan, who had been in the position for two decades. Cacy wondered if her smooth, flawless older sister ever felt like cracking under all that pressure.
Actually, as much as she despised Aislin—a side effect of years of neglect and cold disapproval—Cacy suspected her sister would do a good job. By all accounts, Aislin had been a devastatingly effective vice president of foreign exchange. She’d not only run a successful international money-laundering operation, which melted down the Afterlife coins into bars ready to sell on the open market, she’d also propped up the currencies of half the governments in the world by getting them to participate. And she’d been doing it since Cacy had been a little girl.
The elevator doors slid open, revealing the cool green-and-blue decor Cacy had come to associate with Rylan. Apparently, Aislin had been too busy to change anything yet. Cacy stepped into the room, wondering if she was imagining the chill that rode over her skin. She’d always felt welcome here when Rylan was the chief operating officer, but that was far from the case now, even though her sister had “invited” her. Cacy shivered and rubbed her hands over her bare arms.
Aislin was standing next to the long conference table in the central meeting room of the suite, in quiet conversation with two people, a round-faced young woman with flaming-red hair, and a dark-haired man with a stunningly sculpted face. He looked to be in his early thirties but was probably forty years older than that.
All of them were staring at a giant hologram of the Earth floating above the table. The bright-yellow deserts and dustlands of the central United States, southern Europe, and parts of southern Asia were stark in comparison to the verdant green of northern Canada, Russia, and the archipelago of Greenland. Sizable orange spots dotted the globe, denoting areas of high population density. Most people had migrated to the larger cities, some of which were newly established in the wake of the massive flooding and catastrophic climate change of the mid-twenty-first century. The big news lately was that the Arctic Circle colonies were about to declare independence from Canada, despite threats of armed suppression. Cacy had no doubt Aislin was keeping close tabs on the situation, should the need to reassign resources arise.
After all, with war came death, and with death came profit.
“I expected you half an hour ago, Cacia.”
Cacy jerked her gaze from the globe to stare into her sister’s glacial blue eyes. “Did you expect me to get here by magic?”
Aislin arched an eyebrow, and Cacy was suddenly quite sure Dec had tattled on her about using her Scope to transport Eli last night. She made a mental note to set a laser snaptrap in his desk drawer later.
“I expected you to take my summons seriously.”
Cacy rolled her eyes. “Look, I’m here. Did you want to complain about what Father left you in his will or something?” As she watched the color rise in her sister’s pale cheeks, Cacy knew she had gone too far, but she couldn’t force herself to take it back.
Aislin bowed her head and took a measured breath. “Cavan,” she said evenly, turning to the dark-haired man. �
�I apologize for the interruption. As I was saying, please return to the Lucinae and tell them we will keep them informed of the situation. Ask them to keep us apprised of any unusual Kere activity, and be sure to convey that their payments will remain unchanged.”
The Lucinae were the intermediaries of new souls, in charge of shuttling them from the Spring of Life into the bodies of babies all over the world. They would no doubt be nervous about the sudden and unexpected death of Patrick Ferry and wanting reassurance that the Ferrys and the Kere were at peace.
Cavan, obviously Psychopomps’ ambassador to the Lucinae and probably a cousin many times removed, nodded to Aislin. “Their leader will be happy to hear it from you.” He touched his Scope and bowed respectfully, then walked to the elevators without even acknowledging Cacy’s presence.
Fair enough. She hadn’t exactly been on her best behavior.
Aislin watched Cavan go, then said, “We’ll meet in my office.” She gestured to the redhead, who Cacy recognized from family gatherings. Shauna was a first cousin, the daughter of one of Patrick Ferry’s youngest sisters. She was usually at the reception desk in the lobby.
When Cacy gave her sister a questioning look, Aislin said, “Shauna is training to be my executive assistant. She will attend all my business meetings.”
“Business meeting. Wow, I feel so important.”
Aislin strode toward her spacious office. “You are as important as any member of our family, and you are also, for some incomprehensible reason, Father’s choice as executor.”
“You really have a gift for stating facts. How about you tell me something I don’t know.”
“D-do you want me to record the meeting, Aislin?” Shauna’s voice was a symphony of uncertainty.