White Hot

by Ilona Andrews

  I reached for his hands, locked my fingers with his, and rode him. We moved in perfect rhythm, making love as if our bodies were meant to be together.

  His magic wound around me. I leaned into it, my shoulders back, letting it claim me.

  He was thrusting into me.

  I felt the climax build. It broke like a wave. I shuddered, feeling the hardness of him inside me, and slumped on his shoulders, boneless, breathing deep, done. Sated and happier than I had ever been in my life.

  He locked his arms around me and emptied himself inside me with a short rough growl. A burst of pleasure consumed me, so intense everything else paled before it, and I realized I was feeling the echo of his orgasm.

  We stayed like that, pressed together, arms around each other.

  Slowly Rogan lowered me onto the bed. I curled into a ball and he wrapped himself around me and pulled a sheet over us. I wanted to stay awake, to enjoy the feeling of him holding me, but instead I yawned and fell asleep.

  When I woke up, the first thing I felt was Rogan next to me.

  He nuzzled my neck, his hand stroking my stomach. “Are you alive?”

  “The jury is still out.” I tried to smile. Pain shot through my face and I winced. “Ow.”

  “Did I hurt you?”

  “No, the painkillers wore off.” I tried to gently turn over and instead managed to hurt my whole right side. “Ow.” I finally flopped on my back.

  He reached over carefully and brushed the hair from my face. Anger stirred in his eyes. “I’m an asshole.”

  “You just now figured that out?”

  “I should have waited.”

  I gave him my best come-hither look. My puffy eyes probably made it look really stupid. “That wasn’t your decision.”

  “Yes, it was.”

  “What was the alternative? Leave me standing naked in your living room? Because shoes were only the first step. My clothes were coming off.”

  “The alternative would’ve been not jumping you and dragging you into my bedroom like some sort of Neanderthal.”

  I kissed him. “Foolish, foolish Rogan.”

  “Don’t start,” he warned me.

  “You realize that you will never be able to hear me say that without thinking about sex?”

  He shook his head. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but that changes nothing. Anytime you say anything, I think about sex. Anytime I see you, I think about sex.”

  I caressed his face. “Am I that sexy with my bruised face and messy hair?”

  He kissed me, his touch light and tender. “Yes.”

  “Let me see your back,” I said.

  He sat up and turned. His whole back was raw. He looked like somebody had dragged him across a stretch of asphalt behind a car.

  I groaned. “I should’ve put some clothes on you.”

  “You should’ve left me.” He turned around and leaned closer to me. “The next time I tell you to leave me, you will go, do you understand?”

  “No. I’ll do whatever I think is right.” The next time . . .

  “What?” he asked.

  “Will there be a next time?”

  “There might be,” he said. “This mess isn’t finished. It’s a dangerous game and we’re in it now. There is no backing out.”

  The memory of him limp in the circle came to me. I remembered my hands on David Howling’s head. It was too much. I covered my face with my hands.

  “Don’t,” he said quietly.

  “Rogan, I snapped a man’s neck with my bare hands. I don’t even know how I did it.”

  “Well,” he said. “You did it well. Too well even.”

  I stared at him.

  “It was quick,” he said. “He didn’t suffer nearly enough. If I had gotten my hands on him, I would’ve made it last. Instead I lay on the floor, unable to move, and watched him hit you.”

  I slid even closer to him. He moved to the other, less injured side of me, and pulled me to him. I lay with my head on his carved arm.

  “I don’t want it,” I said.

  “Don’t want what?”

  “The life of a Prime. I don’t want it.”

  “Too late.” He kissed my head. “No choice now.”

  We’d gone through all that, and Olivia Charles was still free. As long as she remained free, none of us would be safe, and Cornelius would still be waiting for justice. We had to end it.

  But even if we ended it . . . David had mentioned Caesar. Olivia wasn’t Caesar. When David mentioned her name, he did it matter-of-factly. When he said Caesar, his voice was filled with awe.

  “Did Bug get anything off David’s phone?” I asked.

  “It was brand new and Howling was careful about texts and calls—all went to burner phones. The texts are interesting. This thing reaches very far. At least six Houses are involved, likely a lot more. And the moment we walked into Lenora’s office, the video hit the Internet.” His lips stretched.

  “Then why are you smiling?” It was a disaster. We’d gone through all that, had nothing to show for it, and whoever was behind it all still got his civil unrest.

  “I’m smiling because I emailed the video to Lenora the night we got it. I beat you and Bern by about ten minutes.”

  I sat up. “What?”

  “Don’t act so shocked. I knew you would send it to her the moment you asked for a copy of it.”

  I stared at him.

  “I might be a dragon, but you’re a paladin.” He put his hands behind his head, looking unbearably smug.

  “Why don’t you just tell me the whole thing?” I asked.

  “Originally these people had two options: they could continue to blackmail Howling or they could release the recording of his actions and incite civil unrest. Once they realized that we had the recording, they would release their version. You were right. If you want to destabilize the existing power structure, you have to incite the public to action. It was just the matter of timing it to cause the most damage. They were waiting for the right moment and, since Howling decided to wink and smile at you across the room to make sure you saw him, I realized that that moment was tied to us. We were annoying, because we kept digging. We had to be neutralized. They had plans for you and me. Or rather for our corpses. We were to be the fuel to their bonfire.”

  Mad or not, Rogan was a war hero and a man who’d saved the city from Adam Pierce. Houston was proud of its homicidal, terrifying son. If they released the video of Garza’s murder, and then dumped us somewhere in a public location, dead, naked, discarded like trash, the message would be clear. We killed your representative and now here is your hero, stripped naked, humiliated, and dead. He couldn’t protect himself or the woman with him. If this could be done to him, think what can be done to you. That’s why Howling had to resort to hypothermia. They wanted us killed by magic but be instantly recognizable and they wanted people to know we died slowly and suffered.

  Houston would have rioted for sure.

  Rogan reached over and ran his fingers down my arm.

  I exhaled slowly. We’d come so close to the edge of disaster.

  “So, after you fell asleep after the ninja ferret heist, Lenora called me on my private line. Augustine, Lenora, and I talked. She had to bring Richard Howling in safely. We assumed that he was being watched, so Augustine volunteered his services. That day Richard Howling went to work as usual, and then he split. One Howling went up to his office and the other was smuggled out by Houston PD. Then that first Howling simply vanished.”

  “What’s in it for Augustine?”

  “Augustine, despite all his ruthless corporate maneuvering, always tries to stay on the right side of legal and on the right side of the DA’s office, Lenora in particular. He justifies it by claiming it’s good for business. In reality, he has these annoying things called principles.”

  “Augustine?”

  “I know, shocking.” Rogan grinned at me.

  I kissed him. “What happened next?”

  “We needed to buy
Lenora time to move all of her chess pieces into place. The fact that Olivia and Howling targeted Baranovsky meant they knew the video existed and that he had a copy of it. Either they bribed someone or most likely, it was the matter of a simple logical deduction. Elena de Trevino had access to the video and if she wanted insurance, she would’ve given a copy of it to the most powerful person she knew for safekeeping.”

  Made sense.

  “After our appearance, I knew they would watch us. One doesn’t go to see Lenora without evidence, so the moment we made that move, they would put two and two together and realize that we either have the recording or know where it is. So, I delayed as much as was realistic, and then you and I went to visit Lenora in broad daylight. She put on a show for the benefit of whoever was listening. Meanwhile, Howling was secured, and Lenora’s second-in-command, Atwood, called a press conference. By the time the video hit the social networks, he was in the middle of the speech explaining how badass they were. Olivia’s firecracker fizzled out. There is still outrage, but not nearly as much of it as they hoped.”

  “You could’ve told me all this from the start,” I said.

  “You were trying to decide what to do about Augustine. It didn’t seem like the best time.”

  “So what now?”

  “It turns out that domination forges a link between the dominator and the person whose mind they are hijacking. Richard Howling named Olivia Charles as the dominator who forced him to murder Garza. Olivia has disappeared. That Verona petition Lenora signed specifies that we are free to pursue David Howling and all known associates implicated in the assault, which gives us a clean shot at Olivia, if we can find her. The DA’s office would like Olivia Charles alive, but they will understand if circumstances make it impossible.”

  “So we have to find Olivia.”

  Rogan bared his teeth, looking predatory. “Howling’s people bugged my car. A very sophisticated piece of equipment. Looks like a tack. We rolled over it and our tire picked it up. Howling tethered his phone to it, so he’d know where we were at all times. He didn’t realize that every time he accessed the app, it recorded his location.”

  I laughed.

  “David spent a lot of time on a ranch outside of Houston, owned by Dedalus Corp. Bug is still untangling exactly who is behind it. It’s a fortified compound. Sixteen hours ago Olivia Charles arrived there with armed guards and a pile of suitcases.”

  “When are we going?”

  “Tomorrow,” he said. “There are a lot of people in the compound. It will be a long fight.”

  “I’ll need to go and see my family,” I said.

  “I’ll take you.”

  “But not now.”

  “What would you like to do now?” he asked.

  I turned over, leaning on his chest. “I would like you to convince me that this is real and we’re alive. Do you think you could do that, Mad Rogan?”

  His magic slid over me. His blue eyes darkened. “Yes.”

  Chapter 15

  I sat in the media room of our warehouse. My head buzzed. I’d taken some of the awesome painkillers Daniela sent home for me. They killed the pain, but brought a slight feeling of dizziness and I kept wanting to spin to the right.

  My family dealt with my new purple face about the same way they dealt with the fact that Mad Rogan had kissed me in front of everyone before leaving to his HQ across the street. Nobody said a thing.

  I missed him. He’d been gone for less than two hours and I missed him. That was just sad.

  I formally told Cornelius that Olivia Charles was the person who’d pulled the trigger and murdered his wife. David Howling helped, but it was Olivia who took over the minds of Rogan’s people. Cornelius equally formally thanked me and offered to release me from my contract with a full payment.

  “No,” I told him. “I’ll see it through.”

  “Okay,” he said quietly.

  He and Matilda then went off to the kitchen. He was cooking her something special for dinner.

  My mother was going over the plans for the assault. Both of my sisters sat in the room quietly. Leon studied the image of the ranch on TV. It had been recorded from the air. Cornelius and Bug had attached a camera to Talon’s harness.

  The building rose out of a clearing like a foreboding Spanish fortress, and that’s exactly what it was: a massive rectangular structure complete with observation towers, thick walls, and sheltered passageways. Bug reported both M240G and SAWs, M249 machine guns.

  “How much armed personnel?” my mother asked.

  “They estimate close to a hundred,” I said. “Some former soldiers, some private security forces, and some civilian employees.”

  “Why doesn’t Rogan just collapse it?” Leon asked.

  “Because it would kill everyone inside. You don’t just destroy a fort filled with people. You give them a chance to surrender.” The buzzing in my head made it hard to concentrate. “Some of them probably have no idea what they are involved in.”

  “But it would be safer,” Leon said.

  “That’s what bad guys do. We’re not bad guys.” At least some of us were not. I wasn’t that sure about myself anymore. “Also Cornelius’ contract specifies the right to confront Nari’s killer. Basically, we can’t kill Olivia Charles.”

  “Contracts are important.” Leon nodded.

  I looked at my mother.

  “Leon,” Mom said. “A man is a man because he has a set of principles. He has lines he doesn’t cross. It shows discipline, commitment, and willpower to do the job. A man is someone who can be relied upon because he holds himself to a higher standard. That’s how you get respect. You need to sit down and figure out where your lines are, or you will grow up to be one of these assholes everyone despises because they would strangle their own relatives for money.” She looked at my two sisters. “The same goes for you. I said man because I was talking to him, so take the same speech, put woman in it, and use it to come up with some guidelines for yourself.”

  Nobody said anything.

  Catalina cleared her throat. “Nevada, can I talk to you?”

  “Sure.”

  “In your office.”

  I forced myself off the couch, walked to my office, and sat into my chair. Catalina and Arabella followed me.

  “There are over a hundred people in that building?” Catalina asked.

  “Yes.”

  “And they are armed?”

  “Yes.”

  My sister squared her narrow shoulders. “Then I’m coming.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “What if you get shot?” Catalina crossed her arms on her chest. “What if Rogan or Cornelius get shot? Or one of their people?”

  “We’re all adults. We . . .”

  “I’m not losing you because of this thing. These people came here and tried to kill us. They tried to murder Matilda.”

  “Which is fucked up,” Arabella volunteered.

  “Language,” I told her.

  She shook her blond head. “Oh, shut up, Nevada, you swear like a fucking sailor.”

  “I’m twenty-five,” I growled.

  “Well, I’m fifteen and I have more to swear about than you.”

  “If I go,” Catalina yelled over the two of us, “nobody will have to get shot!”

  “No,” I told her.

  She faced me. “Yes.”

  “You can’t control it.”

  “Yes, I can.” She raised her chin. “I’m better at it.”

  “Oh yeah?” I tilted my head. “Can you disengage?”

  “Some,” she said.

  “She doesn’t have to disengage,” Arabella said. “I’ll get her out.”

  “You will get her out in front of a bunch of people, all of whom will see you. Have you two lost your minds?”

  “It doesn’t matter anyway,” Arabella said.

  “We know,” Catalina added.

  “Know what?”

  “Mom told us about Tremaine,” Catalina said. “We know ab
out the other grandmother.”

  I rubbed my face. They had a right to know, but I really wished Mom would’ve waited. Silence lay between us like a big heavy brick.

  “What will happen if she finds us?” Arabella asked.

  “Bad things.” I didn’t want to elaborate.

  “How are we going to protect Mom?” Arabella asked. “Also, she thinks that I’ll end up in a cage.”

  Decades with no information and then all the information at once. Thanks, Mom. “Mom will be okay and nobody will put you in a cage. Once this is over, we’ll form a House.”

  They stared at me. They looked so different—tall willowy Catalina with long dark hair, and short athletic Arabella with blond curls. How the hell they managed to have an identical expression on their faces, I would never know.

  “Our own House?” Arabella asked.

  “Yes. If we form a House, she can’t touch us for three years. That’s enough time to get established.”

  “We won’t be forming any Houses if you’re dead,” Catalina said, her voice flat. “I’m coming, Nevada. You can’t stop me.”

  “Yes, I can. You’re a minor.”

  Catalina raised her chin. “I’m a Prime.”

  “So am I.”

  “Yes, yes, we’re all special,” Arabella said. “But she is right. What if you get shot? Who will take care of us? Who will bring us sushi?”

  “I’m doing this,” Catalina said. “I’m not letting them hurt you or Cornelius, or Matilda, or anybody else. My way nobody has to get hurt.”

  That’s what I must’ve looked like eight years ago, when I told my parents that they wouldn’t be selling the family firm. That I would take it over and keep it afloat. And I did. I’d been seventeen too.

  She was right. If she got involved, we’d cut casualties and injuries down to a bare minimum.

  “Fine.” I leaned back. “You’ll do this and then you’ll do your best to disengage.” I turned to Arabella. “You will get her out. You won’t hurt anybody. You will grab your sister and get the hell out of there. No heroics.”

  She made a high-pitched squeak. “Okay, boss lady!!!”