Fetching Analia

by Jory Strong

  Analia rubbed her bracelet. Felt a spike of fear at realizing the action might draw attention to the charm. And then a second spike of fear at discovering the apple-shaped crystal was gone.

  Her gaze snapped to her wrist. Her mouth went dry.

  Both charms must remain in your possession, the old man had said.

  She flashed back to Maksim’s office. She’d been careful not to look at her wrist when he’d asked about items she’d purchased at the supernatural fair. She’d been too paranoid to look when he’d left the room with the dog.

  When had she last seen the charm?

  She frantically searched her memory, and came up with an answer. She’d seen it when she was sitting on the bench, after the Irish Wolfhound had departed for parts unknown.

  She glanced at Kellen, trying to suppress her panic. She needed to go back to the bench and then walk to the spot where she’d been attacked.

  Her palms dampened. The longer she waited, the less chance there’d be of recovering the charm.

  “I need to take care of something,” she said, easing away from the table.

  Kellen’s hand locked around her arm. His narrowed gaze moved from Deidra, to her, sending mortification through Analia at the implication he thought the sight of the other woman was causing her to flee.

  “You’re not going anywhere without me,” he said, putting heat in his voice and even though she knew it was for Sabra’s benefit, it had Analia’s heart tripping into a faster beat and wishing it weren’t an act.

  She wasn’t going to shake him. That much was obvious.

  I have to risk it. Despite the old man’s warning not to let the charms come to the attention of Supernatural Ops agents, she had to risk it. She had to hope that if Kellen hadn’t reacted to the charm when they were dancing, then maybe, just maybe this would turn out okay.

  Rubbing a damp palm against her jeans she said, “Let’s take a walk on the beach.”

  Sabra smirked, but Analia couldn’t care what her friend thought. And thankfully Kellen agreed, probably glad to leave the club and end the pretense.

  Within seconds of getting outside, her cell chimed with a text. She checked it, not surprised to find it was from Sabra.

  Not a competition? The text was punctuated with an eyebrow-raised emoji.

  It was followed by a second text.

  The cards have spoken. Go for it! This one was punctuated by a thumbs-up emoji.

  Analia put the phone away without responding, finding it hard to ignore the way her heart grasped onto hope.

  “Where are we going?” Kellen asked, curious, aroused—and then more aroused by the nervous swipe of her tongue over her bottom lip, followed by the grasp of that delectable lip between dainty white teeth.

  “I lost something on the boardwalk, or maybe on the beach. One of my charms. I didn’t notice it was missing until just now.”

  Remembering the mugger assaulting her, daring to touch her, brought a savage surge of anger. “When you were attacked?”

  “It probably happened then.”

  Another nervous swipe of her tongue across a lip he wanted to take between his own teeth had a hard throb of want going through his cock. The tarot deck didn’t have even the tiniest whiff of magic, but that didn’t mean his own desires and fears hadn’t been reflected by the cards.

  He wanted her and that want was growing with each minute he spent in her company. With each moment in her company their becoming lovers grew inevitable—and Maksim was making sure they didn’t escape each other’s company—even to the extent of having the Hummer retrieved from Stones, then texting him the news after they’d left headquarters.

  It wouldn’t change the outcome, not when it came to taking a mate. But he couldn’t fight her desire as well as his own—and her desire matched his. Her scent had grown lusher when he flipped over the tarot card to reveal The Lovers.

  He’d given her fair warning when it came to involvement with him. He wasn’t offering more than sex and protection. The Tower signified nothing beyond his fear of taking a mate and being destroyed as a result.

  “Does the hound sniff out magic?”

  The hair on his body lifted, then settled a heartbeat later. If she’d guessed that hound and man were one and the same, she wouldn’t be walking next to him so calmly.

  “He can sniff out spell boundaries and magical items.”

  “Are there a lot of them? Magical items?”

  He cocked his head, considered the question then shrugged away worry. It was inevitable that by the end of this investigation, she’d know far more than most humans did about the supernatural.

  “Yes. But most of them are benign.”

  Her lip was momentarily caught between her teeth again, and he had to fight the urge to grasp her arm and swing her around so she was in front of him, positioned so he could swoop and plunder her mouth.

  “Even though most are benign, whatever item I’ve had contact with is probably dangerous,” she said, the barest hint of a question—or maybe it was hoped-for denial—in her comment.

  “It depends on the intentions of the user. But, given they are willing to do violence, or have violence done, in order to gain possession of the item, it most likely means their intentions aren’t benign.”

  She shivered, and seeing it, he surrendered to the need to touch her. He took her hand in his, only to fight the desire to carry it to his chest and then downward.

  She glanced at their joined hands. “Can you tell anything from the charms?”

  It took him a second to shift his focus from the feel and sight of her hand in his, to the bracelet on her wrist. “Marginal magic.”

  He didn’t bother to bring her hand closer to his face. In hound form he would have noticed the presence of something magically powerful. He hadn’t.

  “I think we should start at the last place I remember seeing the charm,” she said, and proceeded to lead him to the very bench where she’d stroked him in hound form and shared her hopes and hurt.

  He made me feel beautiful and desirable. I should have known better.

  Kellen suppressed a growl of frustration. He’d explained why he’d walked away from her on the dance floor!

  But remembering what she’d said challenged him to convince her of just how desirable she was. And that would be far more dangerous than the as yet undetermined threat.

  “What does the charm look like?”

  “It’s a green, crystal apple.”

  They scanned the pavement as they slowly headed toward the place where she’d been assaulted. Though he had a vague idea, because of her shared confidences, he asked, “What kind of work do you do?”

  “I’m a rehabilitation counselor. I help people live independently, or as independently as possible. Some of my clients have sustained injuries and are having to adjust to altered limbs or limited movement. Others were born with physical, mental, emotional or developmental challenges. I work with them to accomplish their career and living goals.”

  Her words brought scenes from his past, of himself, shunned because of his withered forearm then later desired after having gained enough magic to make himself whole.

  She wouldn’t have turned away from him, been repulsed by his deformity, by the obvious physical weakness. She wouldn’t have been content to ignore him as he grew thin from not being able to bring down prey, as he slowly starved as a newly weaned pup, only surviving by eating vegetation and insects.

  Her words brought memories of the overheard conversation between Cosette and Cason.

  Admit you’d rather have me, Cason had said, jealous at now having to share their sire and dam’s attention, despite being the heir.

  Of course I’d prefer you to Kellen. Don’t you think I worry that regardless of what he looks like now, at least some of the pups he’ll sire will be defective? Don’t you think I loathe the idea of being whispered about after a pregnancy? When those pups have to be hidden away until they either die or are restored by magic?

 
Kellen squelched the memories that followed those, when he’d confronted her about the things she’d said. He told himself to remember that this was the price he’d paid for the weakness of lowering his guard and falling in love.

  Given who he was with, he’s probably some hotshot Supernatural Ops agent, and look at me, I’m a rehabilitation counselor. I can’t stack up against the women in his world.

  The words Analia had spoken when he was a hound with his head resting on her thigh overrode caution and restraint. Kellen did what he’d wanted to do earlier. He stopped, used her hand in his to swing her around to face him.

  He released her hand, but only to use both of his to grasp her hair and prevent her escape as his mouth took hers, his tongue rushing to rub and twine with her tongue.

  Pleasure pulsed downward to his cock. Pleasure forced his eyes closed and his nostrils to flare and fill with her lush scent. Pleasure had him pulling her tightly against him, wallowing in the sensation of her body against his.

  She met the thrust of his tongue with the thrust of hers. Placed her hands on his side and stroked, up and down, up and down.

  The touch made his cock scream with the demand to have her do the same to it, stroke upward, then downward, upward, then downward.

  He kissed his way to her ear, sucked the lobe, his pleasure heightened at feeling her shiver, at hearing her moan. He pressed his lips to her ear and words he’d never intended were wrenched from his soul.

  “I was born an embarrassment and kept isolated. I wish I’d known you then. What you’ve chosen to dedicate your life to is far worthier than what I’ve dedicated my life to.”

  He heard the catch of her breath and soaked in the pleasure of having her arms go around him, then tighten in a hug that squeezed his heart.

  He returned to her mouth, the need to retreat from the confession driving him to replace vulnerability with passion. And she responded, hands gripping his shirt, scent deepening with arousal as he thrust into her mouth with his tongue and ground against her mound with his cock.

  Desire shimmered between them and intensified. He wanted, needed, knew that when they returned to her apartment, he wouldn’t be able to withstand temptation.

  It was that very compulsion to get to her place that gave him the strength to leave her lips, though not without capturing them again, and again, prolonging the kiss for a few minutes more before saying, “You wanted to search for your charm.”

  “Yes, I need to find it.”

  Her breathlessness made him smile and brought a surge of satisfaction. “Onward then.”

  They followed the path she’d taken earlier. Her scent—and her assailant’s—still lingered.

  The closer they got to where she’d been attacked, the greater the urge to sink his canines into the mugger’s throat at the next opportunity. The charm hadn’t been dislodged at first contact on the boardwalk so they went down onto the beach.

  Analia knelt on the sand and he reluctantly freed her hand. She scooped up sand with both hands, then allowed it to sift through her fingers. Rather than scoop, he put his palm on the sand and ran it along the surface.

  Like a human metal detector, Analia thought. “Too bad you can’t find gold coins and other buried treasure that way.”

  “Who says I can’t?”

  Her eyes widened. “Seriously?”

  “No.”

  “Tease.”

  The smile he sent her way created a molten sensation in her chest. One that flowed unerringly into her breasts and sex.

  Not his fault, she knew. He couldn’t help the fact that he was panty-drenching gorgeous and she was hopelessly attracted to him. Would it be so bad to just give in?

  He’d been up front with her about what he had to offer. Nothing beyond a good time and protection.

  But… In those precious moments when he’d shared some of his childhood with her, she’d felt and heard echoes of the pain he’d experienced.

  She was curious about why he’d been an embarrassment, why he’d been kept isolated. And she didn’t doubt his truth, despite his good looks, his obvious success, his companions and his job.

  She strongly suspected that he’d be mortified to know he’d revealed that old pain. He’d probably go so far as to deny it, or to at least blow it off as no longer relevant.

  Was it such a stretch to believe his insistence that he didn’t do permanent was just a way to shield himself from hurt?

  She lifted more sand and let it slowly sift through her fingers. Since her first crush, her heart had wanted a forever relationship.

  When it came to men, she’d always gone with the motto: You’ve got to risk the lows if you want the highs, otherwise it’s all flat-lining.

  The old man had given her the charms and said they’d lead her to the perfect match—and then she’d met Kellen. But, the old man had also made it sound like Supernatural Ops presented a huge threat.

  She nibbled on her bottom lip. Maybe this was part of the reason he’d insisted she not wear the charms at the same time, because apart, they would be harder for IRE agents to notice. But she still thought it would be better if she found it, and not Kellen.

  She continued scooping and sifting, trying to hurry as he moved further away. Five minutes passed. Then ten, and panic was beginning to settle in. What if she didn’t find the charm? What if she’d lost it days after being entrusted with its care?

  Her heart pounded so hard in her ears that it took a second to process Kellen saying, “I’m guessing this is it.”

  He stood and she lunged to her feet, hurrying to join him. Relief at seeing the small crystal apple on his palm made her feel momentarily weak.

  Strangely, the link was unbroken. The old man must not have completely attached the charm to the bracelet.

  “That’s it,” she said, going dry-mouthed, but unable to resist asking, “Did you sense magic? Or did you just find it on the sand?”

  “There was enough magic for me to find it.” He grasped her wrist, sending a shiver of heat up her arm. “I’ll reattach it for you.”

  He did just that, but didn’t release her wrist or move away. Their eyes met and held. There was nothing keeping them from going back to her apartment.

  Was she ready for that? Ready to make the decision that would be waiting for her there? Give into the attraction? Open her heart at the same time she opened her legs?

  Her sex heated and his lashes dropped, as if he were already imagining being on top of her, being inside her. A shiver of heated want sped up her spine and pooled in her breasts.

  She licked her lips and his gaze dropped to them, sending another shiver of hot need along her spine, this time downward to wet her panties with want.

  She wouldn’t be able to say no. Didn’t want to be able to say no. Not when everything inside her, except for a tiny sliver of self-preservation, shouted yes, yes, yes!

  Still, the sliver of self-preservation had enough of a hold that she said, “Walk on the beach?”

  “Sure.”

  Kellen released her wrist and took her hand, unable to stop himself from the physical contact.

  They moved down to the edge of the surf, careful to stay just out of the water’s surge.

  “What will happen to the dog?” she asked, the honest worry in her voice wrapping his heart in warmth.

  “He’ll be kept out of sight.”

  “Not punished?”

  “Does he deserve punishment?”

  “No. I’d give him a hug and a kiss if he were here, though he’d probably prefer a rare steak.”

  Kellen laughed. “You might be surprised.”

  Walking the beach was a nightly ritual for him. Before Taine had claimed Saffron, he’d often taken his hound form and accompanied the dragon.

  Now he walked alone. Usually.

  He hadn’t thought there was an emptiness to it, hadn’t felt lonely, but with Analia at his side—

  He blocked that line of thought. Nothing had changed.

  He was right back
to where he’d been upon first linking Analia to the scent he’d encountered at the supernatural fair. He’d fuck her until she no longer had the power to send blood rushing to his cock.

  He jammed his hand into a front pocket, adjusting the jeans—or trying to, which wasn’t an easy task given the hard state of his dick.

  His lips twitched. He’d give the humans credit where credit was due, they did come up with an assortment of interesting words and expressions.

  “What exactly do you do at IRE?” Analia asked.

  “Mostly chase around, cleaning up messes made by sorcerers.”

  She swung in front of him and walked backward, to better see his face. “Seriously?”

  Damn he found her adorable. Worse, he found her believably honest.

  Would she remain that way if she knew he was his sire’s heir?

  He could almost believe that she would. And that was dangerous thinking.

  Already he’d proven himself vulnerable to her. Even his fellow agents knew nothing of his childhood. They knew nothing of his early shunning by his sire, dam and older brother.

  What next? Would he share how he’d foolishly fallen for Cosette? That even when he’d confronted her with the overheard conversation, he’d desperately wanted her to somehow convince him she’d just been telling his brother Cason what he’d wanted to hear, that it had been a lie, and of course, she loved the spare heir and wanted to be his mate.

  Kellen shuddered, resolved to keep silent about the life he’d lived before coming to this realm. He would continue living as he’d chosen to live. Free. Completely free of any dictates that weren’t related to Supernatural Ops.

  His gaze swept downward, leaving Analia’s eyes to linger on her lips. He’d given her fair warning. Pleasure and protection were all he had to offer, and pleasure alone was all he wanted from her.

  Heat surged into his cock at imagining the lips he studied trailing kisses downward as she went to her knees. She stumbled on a half-destroyed sandcastle and he grabbed her other hand, steadying and pulling her against him in one smooth, fatalistically natural move.

  His mouth swooped down, covering lips he wanted exploring his body. And those sweet lips parted, her soft moan rushing into his mouth.