Leaning forward in his chair, Bran’s gaze turned harsh. “It’s about something big. Something far bigger than we could have imagined. I have no idea who is involved in one of the factions. Only that they have gone to extreme lengths to hide who they are. Yet the footprint of their involvement is undeniable. Someone higher up in the government is working with two groups. One of those groups was led by Price and Marlowe. The other is led by Truvan Bond, the minister who oversees the Pythian Elite counsel.”
Stunned, Marcus stared at Bran. The information his friend had dug up pointed to the fact that what had happened to them led to a larger conspiracy against the government. His jaw tightened. Their lives had been nothing to these men who played political games of intrigue. They’d been nothing but pawns to them, chess pieces moved across a board to give the players better access to the things they wanted, to the achievement of their goals. He decided he’d better tell Branson what he’d found out.
“I hacked the Elite’s network tonight,” he told Bran. “I found Price’s private files on Bond’s encoded drive. There was nothing there about Marlowe, but Price’s ties to Bond were clear. And Bond knew Price set us up. I found that much; although, I couldn’t determine if he knew it at the time it happened or if he learned of it later. I could find nothing that explained why we were set up and nothing to indicate a larger conspiracy, but all the documents and emails were encoded at a very strong level that included a magical snare. It took some serious hacking and magic to get past it all without Bond finding out. I didn’t like where the files led me, but I had no idea it was as big as you’ve discovered.”
Branson sighed heavily. “Ren, the General has to know something we don’t know,” he said in a low voice. “Why would these men want to be rid of us? What threat were we to them? None that I can see. And the connection between what was done to us and to Tait all leads back to her father. They wanted him out of the way.”
Marcus couldn’t fault Bran’s logic. And that meant two things. One, they needed to set this information in front of the General and find out what he knew. And two, they needed to show him that his daughter wasn’t dead.
“Tomorrow,” he said decisively. “We need to visit the General tomorrow. If we shock him, maybe we’ll get to the truth more easily.”
Bran’s eyes widened. “Oh, no. Tell me you’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking.” He shook his head vehemently. “She’s not safe here in this city, Ren.”
Grimly, Marcus vowed silently that from this point on, she would always be safe. “We’ll protect her. But he has to know the truth and then he has to tell us what he knows so we can fight this. Do you have enough evidence to clear her yet? To implicate Price and Marlowe?”
“Almost. Her testimony against Marlowe will seal his fate though,” Bran replied. “You said her scars were made by magic and that leaves traces of the owner behind. I’m sure Marlowe had others do most of his dirty work, but I’ve heard enough whispers about his unusual sexual practices to know that he couldn’t keep his hands off Tait. She’s a living, breathing piece of evidence against him. I’m surprised you didn’t sense his footprint when you touched her scars.”
“I was too focused on her.” The implications of Bran’s words hit him then and Marcus sucked in a breath. “He can’t know she’s alive.”
Bran nodded. “If he knew, he’d have to kill her.”
“All the more reason for us to tell the General the truth. This ends now,” Marcus growled. “Whatever machinations are going on in the government is secondary to Tait’s life. I need to fix that and afterward, once her safety is assured, then maybe we can look into what else is going on.”
“Tomorrow then.” Branson stood up. “I’ll let you get some rest. It won’t be easy getting Tait to agree to leave Hawksmoor. She’s stubborn.”
“You leave her to me. I’ll get her to agree. You just need to meet us in Avenal at the time I send you. Once in Falconaire City, she’ll need us both to protect her.”
Bran turned toward the door. “You got it.”
Marcus locked his quarters once Bran left. He lay on his bed and remembered the feel of Tait’s battered flesh beneath his fingertips. Tomorrow they would embark on a journey to give her back her life. Achieving it would be difficult. Convincing her to take it would be a task of monumental proportions. But Marcus was up to it. He would do anything to ensure her safety and well-being, including fighting Tait herself.
Unbreak Me (Spellbound Treasure)
Unbreak Me (Spellbound Treasure)
Chapter Six
Estep Realm
Hawksmoor
“Open up!” Marcus hissed as he tapped on Tait’s door.
After a few moments, she opened it a crack and he pushed it wider as he slipped in. She locked the door and signed a protective ward on it before pulling her thin flannel robe tighter around her too slender body.
“Why are you here?” she grumbled as she walked over to the stove. “People are going to start noticing you coming round. I can’t have that.”
Marcus shrugged off his duster and draped it over the back of an upright chair. “If anyone noticed me, all they saw was a beggar looking for a handout,” he replied gruffly. “I wouldn’t do anything to put you at risk, Tait.”
She huffed out a sigh and put water in a kettle then placed it on the stove. With a wave of her hand, she turned on the burner. Marcus tried not to smile. She used her magic to turn on the stove, but not to just heat water in her cup. He’d never understood her logic about the way she used her magic. And he especially didn’t understand it now when using her magic was a huge risk.
Magic came from a person’s soul and as such it held a footprint that could be traced back to the person who created it. Anyone with the knowledge and power could identify Tait’s magic as belonging to Captain Tait Boland, a Pythian Elite assassin who was supposed to be dead.
She pulled two stoneware mugs from a cabinet and placed them on the table. Opening a metal canister, she spooned tea leaves into each cup. The kettle began to whistle, and she snapped her fingers, extinguishing the flame beneath it. The kettle stopped whistling. Pouring boiling water into each cup, she replaced the kettle on the stove and sat down at the table across from him. She wrapped her hands around the mug and hunched her shoulders in the faded robe, staring down into the swirling tea leaves.
“It’s still not wise for you to come here, Marcus. You don’t belong here. You have a future.” Her voice shook slightly, but he heard the resolution. “You’re a tactician. You know the odds. You know what I have to look forward to. I can face it a lot more easily knowing you’re okay, that you’ll have a good life.”
Pain wrenched his heart when he heard the stoicism in her shaking words. Before he could say anything she held her hands out to him, palms down. He stared at her long slender fingers, their scarred surface meaning much less to him than the steady tremor that racked them. That tremor foretold her death. His mouth tightened grimly.
“Not without you,” he said roughly. “I’ve no life without you and you know it.”
She shook her head, the white strands of her lank hair catching on the worn material of her robe. “That’s no longer true. You only have a life without me. I’ve no future. That tremor proves it. I’m a marked woman in more ways than one.”
Fury and helplessness ripped through Marcus. He pushed to his feet and rounded the corner of the table, gripping her elbow and pulling her up into his arms. “You are marked,” he growled. “You are mine. You have been and always shall be mine . I marked you years ago. You belong to me.”
She tried to squirm free of his grip, but he held her with relentless hands.
“Marcus, please!” she whispered, her eyes agonized.
“No. Listen to me, Tait. I promised to always take care of you. I promised that we would always be together. I promised you would always be mine.” He stared down at her, his determination rising as every word he spoke made her flinch. “I do not break promises. Not
the ones my heart makes. Without you, I have no future. You need to get that clear in your head. This vision you have of me with some other woman, having kids and getting on with my life after you’re killed on some assassin job…it’s wrong. It’s not what would happen. Instead, I would die a lonely, bitter old man, longing to be released from this life so my soul could be with the only woman I could ever love. You. Only you.”
Tears spilled from her eyes, her expression tortured. “What’s going to happen to us, Marcus? There’s no happy ending.”
He gathered her close, his heart overjoyed to have her near. He held her tightly but with reverent hands, intent on showing her how much he loved her. Nuzzling her neck and ear, he brushed aside her hair and whispered, “There is. We just have to make it.”
She melted into him. He could feel her let go of her control and place herself in his hands. Her face burrowed into his t-shirt as she rubbed her head against his chest, just over his heart.
“I miss this. I miss you. I miss my father. I miss…” She broke off on a sob. “I miss being a woman. I’ve been a shell for so long. I’m tired. I don’t want my old job back. I don’t want to kill. I just want peace and love and contentment.”
Her strangled words revealed just how badly she’d been abused. Marcus had the sense that if she could crawl into his skin and just curl up there, holding him and never budging, she would. For a woman of action to seek peace seemed horrific.
“That is what I’m aiming for, sweetheart. Branson and I are determined to get your life back for you.”
She shifted, lifting her head, her mouth opening to protest. He placed a finger over her lips.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to go back to it. We just want it reinstated. We want the truth to come out so you can go home to your father’s house and live a life free of deception, danger and fear,” he told her. “If you choose to leave his house to come to me then it will be your choice, not something thrust on you because of circumstances. I want our future back.”
After a moment of silence, Tait went limp in his arms again. She rubbed her head against him, her arms going around his waist. “You have your work cut out for you. What I know is only the tip of the iceberg. This was not the work of a single man, Marcus. This was a conspiracy. A conspiracy of high-ranking officials.”
He sighed heavily. Her words confirmed what he and Branson already suspected. “We need to talk, sweetheart. And you’re going to have to tell me things you don’t want to remember. I’m going to have to hear things I don’t want to know. But it must be done. I need every tiny little clue to nail these guys,” he said softly.
Her arms tightened around him. “Then you need to make love to me first. Make me yours again. Make me believe it once more,” she whispered. “Then it won’t be so hard.”
Marcus didn’t need anything else to make him scoop her up in his arms and carry her to the unmade bed. Their clothes fell away with the sweep of his hand, his magic doing the work for him. She pressed against him, her movements hot and urgent. His mind whirled as she tangled her legs with his, wrapping herself around him. The day before she’d been tentative and he’d sensed her fears. He’d tempered his lust and his eagerness to be with her. He’d had his own fears after all, and he hadn’t wanted to scare her or hurt her. He’d have done anything to be with her in that moment, even stopping, but today he wanted to give her his full passion once more. He wanted to mark her all over again and he wanted her to see his possessiveness and know how intrinsic she was to his future.
He thrust his hips against her, letting the urgency in his body transmit itself to her with every press of his cock to her belly. Their mouths devoured each other, kisses so hot and deep and sensual that Marcus barely held onto his reason. Today, he touched Tait with deliberate strokes of his hands. It was not the journey of discovery and renewal of life that they had shared the day before. His caresses now held a single motive, arouse her and make her his own.
Tait responded to his touch in kind which sent a shard of satisfaction through him. Everything Marcus did to her she echoed. It was at once both intensely pleasurable and hugely frustrating. He licked and sucked at her flesh, parting her thighs and snaking his tongue between her slick folds. She writhed beneath his stroking hands as he swirled his tongue inside her. Tasting her cream, the essence of Tait fired his blood.
Marcus feasted on her pussy, pushing her toward orgasm. She trembled, her skin prickling as her breathing hitched and her muscles went rock hard. With a muffled cry, her body convulsed. Marcus smiled and rose to his knees, pressing his cock against her swollen tissues. Another cry escaped her as she arched into him, obviously eager to fuck. Taking her mouth in another deep kiss, he slid inside her. As his cock filled her, the tight walls clamping around him like a fist, he opened his eyes to find her staring up at him.
The indigo irises never wavered. She focused solely on him. Leaning over her on his knees and elbows, he caressed her face, pressing another kiss to her mouth. The expression in her eyes didn’t change. She gazed at him as if committing him to memory. His stomach clenched, and he momentarily forgot that he was in the middle of making love to her.
“Why are you looking at me that way?” he murmured. “I’m not going anywhere and I’m not letting you go anywhere. We belong together, Tait, and I’m going to make sure we have the opportunity to have a future.”
Her fingers brushed the edge of his jaw. “You can’t promise that, Marcus. You can’t make it happen.”
“You’re wrong. Just watch me,” he growled.
He kissed both of her eyes, his tongue tasting the salt residue of her tears. She shuddered, and he moved his hips, pulling back then thrusting within her. She shivered again and bit back a moan. Marcus set a steady pace, his body pushing hers further and further along the spectrum of arousal. Her skin flushed, her breathing grew increasingly erratic. When her eyes began to lose focus, he stepped up his thrusts, pressing his cock deep into her wet pussy.
Marcus fucked her with a single-minded intensity, an overriding need to make her his. The tight spasming clasp of her flesh around his foretold her orgasm, and he fucked her harder, forgetting how fragile she seemed. She needed to know who she belonged to and he wouldn’t stop until she acknowledged him.
“You’re mine,” he panted roughly in her ear. “I won’t let you go.”
“Marcus, oh God. I love you so much.” She thrust against him, meeting each movement of his hips with one of her own.
“Tell me, Tait. Tell me who you belong to. Tell me who owns you body and soul,” he insisted, his hands noting the shudders of pleasure that went through her body.
She moaned. Her head twisting on the pillow, she clutched him and clawed at him as her orgasm splintered her control. “Yours! I’m yours!” she burst out on a half-scream as her body shook beneath him.
He hooked his hands beneath her knees and pushed them toward her head as his cock pressed harder within her, each thrust harder and more possessive than the last. The wet sound of their flesh coming together, his tight balls slapping against her ass and the expression of utter capitulation in her indigo eyes sent him straight over the edge into an orgasm that robbed him of speech from its utter physicality.
Every muscle in his body shrieked as his cock poured hot cum inside Tait. He wanted to howl with the primalness of their mating. Collapsing on her, trying to suck in a breath from lungs burning from his strenuous efforts, Marcus acknowledged that nothing in the world would ever satisfy him as much as being with Tait did. Nothing made him feel more masculine, more in control, more powerful, than she did.
When their breathing calmed, he drew off her and pulled her against him, cradling her possessively.
“I know you don’t want to talk about it, but you have to,” he murmured. “And I don’t want to hear it, but I have to. Tell me everything that happened, Tait. Don’t hold anything back. There could be a clue in the events that will help us right all the wrongs against us.”
Marcus fel
t her tremors return and this time they had nothing to do with his presence. He tightened his arms around her as she began to speak in a low, shaking voice. Her recitation of what had happened after he’d left on the Mellonian mission at first sent hot anger through him. Then, when she began to tell him about her prison stay, he grew ice cold. The longer the story went on, the grimmer his resolve became. By the end of her story, Marcus had to fight the fierce desire to leap from Tait’s bed, find Marlowe and exact the same torture on him that Tait had used on Price.
Thoughts of revenge fell by the wayside though as he realized Tait had begun to shiver as if in shock. He bundled her in the blankets and held her tightly as she began to sob at first silently, then with huge gasping breaths punctuated with hiccups. The conspirators had done this to his proud, strong Tait, taken her strength of will and undermined it. They had broken her spirit and her soul, and he vowed to make them pay.
For long minutes that rolled into more than an hour, Marcus held the woman he loved and tried to will his own strength into her. She clung to him, at first with hard, frantic hands, and then gradually with a more reasonable grip. He held her in his arms as if sheltering her, cherishing her with every kiss he dropped on her forehead and hair. He hoped like hell that she could feel his love in every touch.
Finally, Tait let out a shuddering sigh.
“You came here for more than the truth and a fuck, Marcus. I can feel you thinking,” she murmured, rubbing her tear-damp face against his bare chest.
“You’re right, of course. I did come here for more than a chance to make love to you again. And I told you I’m determined to get our life back. That’s the reason I needed to hear what happened to you in detail.” Stroking his hands over her back, he could feel her sigh.
“Oh, I didn’t give you that much detail. Trust me, you don’t want to know anymore than I’ve told you,” she said, bitterness tingeing her words. “And I don’t want to tell it. Already, I feel like I’m going to be sick.”
Unbreak Me (Spellbound Treasure) Page 6