by Laura Hall
With consummate grace, he stepped into the massive tub and knelt before me. The water, clear now, did absolutely nothing to conceal him. Or the effect my continued charge was having on him.
“I won’t hurt you,” he said, eyes scanning mine and full of . . .
Full of . . .
His fingers framed my jaw, lifting my face. “Yes. I love you. I know you’re not ready to say it, and that’s all right. I’ve felt it. I know I’m in your heart.”
He knew.
“Stop talking,” I said, lifting to my knees. I held out a hand, reveling in the way his attention was riveted by the water sluicing off me. “Soap, please.”
His brows lifted above eyes dancing with sudden humor. “I declare my heart and you ask for soap?”
I grabbed the bar and a nearby washcloth. “I haven’t bathed in two days. And there’s no way I’m having sex for the first time in fourteen years in a freaking bathtub.”
The words were pure bravado, but they worked. His mouth opened, then closed. Pleased at having rendered him speechless, I handed him the soapy washcloth. “Impulse control, right? It’s your thing. You’ll be fine. I’ll wash my hair and you can wash—”
The cloth slid perfunctorily, albeit gently, between my legs. I choked and glanced up at his wicked grin. “Everywhere else?” he asked, dragging the cloth with intentional slowness.
I fumbled for the container of shampoo.
We managed, somehow, to wash each other without combusting. We touched, but not greedily. Our first time naked together, and it was already nothing like I’d expected. Instead of heat and frenzy, it was slow, erotic play. Sparks danced around us as his lips and fingers stroked and teased me to the precipice of release. Until he seized my own questing hands.
With a smile in his voice, he murmured, “Not yet.”
When he finally lifted me from the bathtub and let me slide down his front, we both hissed at the new sensation. And despite his words of minutes before, the air between us changed and grew urgent.
Compagno bond, fate, or perfect accident—whatever the cause, as I lifted my head, his came down, and the second our lips met all gentleness fled. My charge spiked. Connor absorbed it with a growl. Suddenly I was airborne, my stomach landing on his shoulder as he strode purposefully for the bed.
“Seriously?” I squealed.
He tossed me onto the mattress and followed me down, caging me with his arms, entwining our lower halves. The contact was transcendent. Too much. Not enough. I hooked my legs around his and arched upward in invitation.
No more waiting. No more denial. I was his. Before I’d known it, I’d still been his.
“Connor, I—”
His mouth silenced mine, then trailed along my jaw and down my neck. “No declarations. When you say it, I want you serious and sober. Just feel. Let me love you.”
I squirmed. “No more foreplay.”
“As my lady commands.”
When he shifted and sank into me, that’s where I was—caught between laughter and a sigh from his words. The sigh caught in my throat and deepened to a moan.
His hands framed my face as his lips rained kisses across it. “Are you all right?”
There was fullness, yes, so much it flirted with pain. But it was perfect, too. Electricity snapped from my body and was absorbed by Connor, whose eyes were as dark as uncut emeralds with his effort of restraint.
“Perfect,” I said, moving restlessly. “Don’t stop.”
He caught my lips with his and gave me what I asked for. What we both wanted. He marked me, not with fangs but with his touch, and every touch was a promise and praise. I was claimed. I was treasured. And I claimed and treasured him in turn.
Close to dawn, as we drifted to sleep, he whispered a final time that he loved me.
I believed him.
But God help us both, I wasn’t sure it changed anything.
Twenty-Three
The bed was empty, cold sheets dully reflecting morning light. I wasn’t surprised—he was the Western Prime, after all—but I was a little disappointed. The dream was over and reality was waiting. I had a very difficult decision to make.
Stay. Or go.
I found my gloves where I’d left them in the bathroom, then commandeered Connor’s bathrobe. As his scent surrounded me, so did a strange swell of nostalgia. I gave myself a shake to dispel the feeling, made sure Janelle’s necklace was secure in my glove, and fled to the Consort’s Suite. As I’d hoped, my clothes were still in the closet and drawers.
I stretched the stiffness from my muscles, then dressed for my walk with Dad and Mal. It was still early, but knowing the men, they were already waiting for me.
Sure enough, when I opened the door they straightened against the opposite wall. Two sets of hazel eyes scanned my face like laser beams.
“How are you feeling?” asked Mal.
“Fine.”
“Did you sleep there last night?” asked my dad, gesturing behind me at the suite.
“Yes.”
Mal shook his head. “You’ve always been a shit liar.”
My dad chewed on the end of a mustache and finally issued a gruff, “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
The laughter that bubbled in my throat was more pained than humored. “Not a fucking clue.”
“Language!”
I looped my arm through my dad’s and tugged him toward the elevator. “Sorry. Uncle Mal is a bad influence.”
“I know,” he agreed wholeheartedly. “Working for him has corrupted your brain.”
Mal sighed. “Some things never change.”
We squeezed into the small elevator and I jabbed the button for the lobby. As the car descended, I asked casually, “Have either of you spoken with the Omega?”
My dad’s hand found mine and he gave a significant nod. I returned his smile even as my insides knotted. Adam was still on board, then, with helping my dad and me disappear.
If I still wanted to disappear.
“Speaking of Adam,” said Mal, “he saw us on the way up and asked me to give this to you.”
I took the folded piece of paper. Opening it, I immediately knew the bold, slanted handwriting belonged to Connor.
I had to catch an early flight to Washington. I was going to wake you, but you looked so peaceful. Please avail yourself of whatever you desire. The compound is yours. I will see you in two days, mo spréach. Love, C
I folded the note with shaking fingers and tucked it in my jacket pocket.
“Kiddo, you okay?”
I tried to take longer, slower breaths. “Just a little claustrophobic stuffed in here with you behemoths.”
The doors chimed open and I rushed out, almost colliding with a small figure. “I’m so sorry,” I gasped and took a quick step back.
“It’s you.”
I pushed the hair from my face and met Gabriella’s caramel eyes.
“It’s me,” I agreed, glancing uncertainly at Mal and my dad, standing a few feet away. “How, uh, are you doing, Gabriella?”
She smiled, and it was as sweet as I remembered, only there was something hard and cold in her eyes. Plus, for some reason her aura was giving me the heebie-jeebies.
“I’m perfect. Except for one small problem.”
By her sinister tone, I deduced our conversation wasn’t moving in a healthy direction. “Oh?” I asked vaguely, while looking around the lobby for a familiar face. Preferably Adam’s or Declan’s. “I’m sorry to hear that. If you’ll excuse me—”
Nails dug into my bicep, sharp enough to break the fabric of my jacket. She held back just short of piercing my skin, letting me feel the threat of pain. I’d almost forgotten how unnaturally strong vampires were. Connor had never been anything but gentle.
I shook my head when I saw Mal’s sapphire aura flare. In a tone reserved for belligerent drunks, I said, “We’re fine. Right, Gabriella?”
She stepped so close I could feel her breath. Her aura snaked around me, icy and somehow d
amp, making my skin crawl and muscles bunch. “You are the problem,” she said, like I hadn’t spoken. “Connor and I were together for sixty years. Do you have any idea what it means to share your life with someone for sixty years?”
Sixty years was a long time. More than my lifetime. It was impossible to comprehend. “No,” I said honestly. “But if you loved him so much, why did you move on?”
She blinked slowly, her head tilting, disturbingly birdlike. “He told you that, did he? It wasn’t true. There were only rumors to make him jealous.” She ducked her head and giggled. “Or maybe there were one or two lovers, but I always shared with my master.” She cupped a hand near her mouth and whispered, “He likes blondes.”
Oh, Jesus H. Christ.
I caught movement from the corner of my eye and almost teared up at the sight of Adam. His eyes went wide, then flashed white. “Gabriella,” he said in a ringing tone of power. “Step away from Fiona.”
There wasn’t enough juice in the Omega’s persuasion. Gabriella hissed and lunged, fangs first, for my throat. There was no time to do anything but brace myself and vehemently swear I’d never wear my gloves in public again.
Mal and my dad yelled indistinctly and a strange, keening noise came from Gabriella. I felt the moistness of her breath on my neck, then she reared back, stumbled, and fell on her ass. Still screeching, she swiped at her face with both hands like a certifiable loon. Like that was even a question.
Score one for compagno bond.
I lifted my gaze to Adam, who approached while snapping orders at several shifters. Opal magic encased a rocking, sobbing Gabriella, then sank into her. She went limp and quiet. The shifters hauled her up and disappeared down a hallway.
A nice big crowd of laypersons watched avidly from around the lobby.
“Where are they taking her?” I asked.
A privacy spell flared, wide enough to encompass my dad and uncle. “Downstairs,” replied Adam. “Clearly we need to reevaluate her rehabilitation. I’m sorry.”
I pressed my fingers into my temples. “Me too, more than I can say.”
I felt again the wave of nostalgia I’d experienced while putting on Connor’s robe. My charge was strangely quiescent.
Adam’s expression went alarmed. “Fiona—”
“Don’t,” I warned him. “You made a promise.”
He shook his head slowly. “Please reconsider. Did you read his note?”
“She did,” said my dad, his warm hand encasing my shoulder. “But as far as I see it, your Prime has a whole lot of baggage and my little girl just made up her mind. Freedom, Omega Gibbs, is not what I see around me. I see a fancy prison. And we Sullivans have a saying.”
“Live to be free,” I said softly.
Adam’s expression turned beseeching. “Please,” he murmured, “don’t do this. He loves you, Fiona. Dear God, don’t leave like this.”
I barely felt the wetness seeping from my eyes. “And if I stay, Adam? What then? You and I both know I would be little more than an ornament for him in public. When he’s in town, that is. The rest of the time, I’d wither away in that beautiful suite upstairs, waiting for his return. I won’t end up like—” I cut myself off.
Dragons destroy their treasure.
I reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. “I know you don’t understand, but Connor will.”
Maybe. Eventually.
Adam’s jaw went hard as granite and he stepped away from me. “Very well. I think you’re making a terrible mistake, but I gave you my word. When do you want to leave?”
“As soon as possible,” said my dad.
I nodded.
Twenty-Four
The storm had cleared sometime during the night, but the rainfall had been unusually heavy. Even beneath the thick forest canopy, the ground was too soggy for anything but careful walking. Wherever the pack was today, they were likely restless.
I wondered if I would see Declan or Tabby before I left. Or if I even wanted to.
My feet carried me to a familiar clearing, black and charred from my final Ascension. I didn’t hesitate this time, but stepped onto the barren ground. My sneakers sank into freezing, muddy water up to the laces. I barely noticed. My gloves were off and my charge hummed beneath my skin, keeping me warm.
I crossed to a fallen tree, still clinging to its base with burned fingers. The trunk creaked as I sat, then settled. Insulated by a fog of impending heartache, I purposefully thought of nothing.
Nothing.
Love, C.
Dammit—I hadn’t earned his love. I didn’t even remember our first meeting, the supposed origin of his infatuation. Twenty years he’d been watching me. Twenty years he’d had feelings for me.
But people were supposed to fall in love with each other on the same general scale of time. Exploring and learning together. Right? Did wanting someone from afar really equate love? Did we truly know anything about each other?
I do know you.
Perhaps you do, inasmuch as anyone can know me.
I tried to imagine life at the compound as Connor’s newest girlfriend and my breathing immediately grew labored with panic. And the kicker was, it was my fault we were in this predicament. If I hadn’t summoned plasma and tried to take down the Liberati like the hero I wasn’t, Connor wouldn’t have needed to save my life with the compagno bond. Therefore, he wouldn’t have poured his heart out and I wouldn’t have slept with him.
I was so full of shit.
A change in the wind, and a sudden sense that I wasn’t alone, brought my head up. I narrowed my gaze on Alisande, who stood opposite me in the clearing. For once, she looked less than composed. Her robes hung limp and soaked from her narrow frame, the hem stained with dirt and debris. Her gray hair was plastered to her face and neck. She eyed the damp ground between us mistrustfully, like she expected to be electrocuted any second.
I wasn’t about to reassure her.
“You’re not an easy person to find, Fiona.”
“That was the point,” I snapped. “What do you want?”
“I’m here to offer you information.”
“No, thanks.”
“Trust me, you’ll want this. And it’s free.”
I shifted on the tree. “Then spit it out so you can leave me alone.”
With a hint of her usual sass, she said, “Someday you’ll see how misplaced your distrust is, but for now, I’ll continue to do my best to keep you alive.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I drolled.
Her nostrils flared angrily. “When you eventually visit the Fae, you must be extremely careful of what you say and do. You must never meet the White Queen’s eyes, nor take food or drink directly from her hand.”
The words chilled me deep inside, but I quipped, “Or dance with a Fae man because the song will never end?”
Alisande made a noise of exasperation. “For your own sake, I hope you’ll take me seriously. As for Fae men, Lucian will do everything in his power to seduce you. At all costs, you must resist him.”
Not that I was planning on sleeping with Lucian—ever—but I asked, “Why’s that?”
She shook her head. “I can’t say. But there will be dire consequences. Potentially a loss of your Element.”
Clarity burst upon me and I jolted to my feet. Sparks dripped from my bare finger as I pointed it at Alisande. “You’re playing messenger for my mother again, aren’t you?”
The Opal’s eyes lightened to milk. “Please, Fiona,” she said urgently. “Delilah only wants to keep you safe. To protect you. That’s why she returned Connor and Gabriella, and provided the means to break Gabriella’s enchantment. She wanted you to see what would happen if you committed your heart to Connor Thorne.”
He is not for you.
Memories raced through my mind. The rocky coastline of our domhan beach. The way the color of his eyes reflected his emotions, the crinkles that fanned outward when he smiled. The hundreds of nuances of speech and expression. The public Prime. The private man. Hi
s restraint and elegance. His power and vast mind.
His gentleness.
His hands in my hair.
Memories of last night flooded me. The devastating peaks and repleteness. The soft, wondering look in his eyes as I set about exploring every dip and line of his body. How perfectly I fit snuggled into his side. How he held me all night. How safe I felt in his arms.
Sonofabitch.
“Oh, daughter, I’m so sorry. But you know I’m right.”
I blinked away tears and faced my mother, standing where Alisande had been. The Opal had vanished. I wasn’t surprised or angry, just very tired of it all.
“Why did you work so hard to bring us together?” I asked.
Delilah dropped the hood of her cloak, meeting my gaze with sorrowful blue eyes. If it was an act, it was a good one. “I’m far from omnipresent. I can’t See all futures at all times, only fractions of the whole. And sometimes . . . Well, sometimes I make choices that hurt other people, people I love, because I’m forced to choose between them and the greater good. I didn’t want to leave Frank and you, but my visions were overtaking my life. I had to answer the summons of my destiny.”
I scoffed. “Which is what? Mass destruction as the Liberati use my ether to blow up cities? The ends don’t always justify the means. Not when innocent people die.”
“You don’t have to approve of my choice of career. Nor do you have to understand it. But I am trying to bring down a worldwide terrorist organization.”
I exhaled a tired laugh. “I don’t trust you. I don’t even know if I believe you. But you’re right. Your life choices are none of my business.” I met her injured, hopeful gaze. “You knew Connor would be forced to initiate the compagno bond and I would be forced to complete it. Why did you allow it, if we’re doomed?”
“Because in the long run, there’s no one on Earth more capable of protecting you from the Fae than him.” Her words rang in my ears, my chest, and plucked a chord deep inside me. I couldn’t suppress a violent shudder. “Ah, you see?” she continued softly. “Even you can’t deny a Seer speaking truth.”