Therian Prize

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Therian Prize Page 8

by Cyndi Friberg


  The call connected and his mouth settled over her slit. She wiggled, rubbing against his warm lips. His strong hands grasped her hips, holding her at just the right angle.

  “Who is this? How did you get Roberto’s phone?”

  The impatient female voice triggered an image in Zophiel’s mind. Classic Asian beauty, dark hair styled in a sleek, chin-length bob, and almond-shaped eyes shining with fierce ambition. Tias was the only member of the backers Zophiel found interesting. Roberto and Milliner were useful but boring, while Tias emanated danger and mystery.

  “My name is not important,” Zophiel began. “I am, or rather was, the person commanding Roberto.”

  Ah, Roberto. The handsome Italian had been wonderfully entertaining. He’d fancied himself a sexual connoisseur, so she’d used much of their brief time together showing him just how little he knew about pleasure—and pain. His body might have been the ideal of human masculinity but his mind had been weak. Just like Sean, Roberto burned out much too fast.

  She heard the rapid tattoo of high heels against a hard surface. Was Tias rushing away from curious ears or rushing toward assistance?

  “What did you do to Roberto? How did you… What sort of conditioning resulted in his obedience? I’d never seen anything like it.” Zophiel nearly laughed. Tias’ heartless curiosity made her even more convinced they would make wonderful partners. Tias was rumored to be ruthless and highly intelligent, qualities Zophiel appreciated. “Did you ‘command’ him to shoot himself?”

  Sean eased back and held her open with his thumbs. Then he attacked her clit directly, flicking his tongue against the sensitive nub. Sensations pulsed deep into her abdomen, pleasant yet predictable. She rolled her hips and fought back a moan then dispersed the spasms before they could fully form.

  “It’s an inherent ability, nothing that can be taught.” Sean repositioned his head and Zophiel smiled. He was nothing if not persistent. “And yes, I compelled him to end his own life.”

  Sean paused, his horrified gaze darting to hers. She rocked her hips and motioned downward with her gaze, refocusing his attention on the wager.

  “What do you want with me?” Tias sounded suspicious rather than frightened. If Zophiel’s information was accurate, it would take more than one conversation to motivate the shrewd human. “I still have a partner. I don’t need another.” Impatience made her melodious tone sharp.

  Sean slipped two fingers into Zophiel’s passage, sliding them in and out as he sucked on her clit. The combination was more stimulating than Zophiel had anticipated. She clenched her ass cheeks and twisted away but he stubbornly followed.

  “I wasn’t asking,” Zophiel snapped as she frantically unwound the rapidly building sensations. Damn, that was close. “I am your new partner. You can either cooperate with me or I’ll take control of you as I did Roberto.”

  “What about Milliner?” Each tight syllable revealed her agitation. “He’s been trigger-happy ever since Roberto’s death.”

  “Milliner has been trigger-happy a lot longer than that.”

  Sean lifted his mouth long enough to drag Zophiel downward. Once she lay flat on her back, he spread her legs wide and covered her sex with his open mouth. His tongue drilled into her core as his upper lip massaged her clit. She helplessly arched to meet him. Hell’s fire, that felt good. Her inner walls clenched and an orgasm rushed ever closer.

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  The irritation in the human’s voice allowed Zophiel to push back her climax, barely. Sean was really good at this. If she rationed his energy, taking less at each feeding, she might be able to increase the lifespan of her new toy. “Our interaction is all you need to worry about right now. Leave Milliner to me.”

  “That didn’t work out so well for Roberto,” Tias stressed.

  Sean must have realized she’d fought off the spasms. His lips closed around her clit again and he thrust three fingers into her pussy. He was doing everything right and with remarkable skill. She could have come at least three times by now if she wasn’t suppressing the sensations. She definitely needed to find better ways of motivating him to perform. Compulsion forced him to find relief from his raging desire but he lost all finesse. This was so much better.

  Shaking away the distraction, she told Tias, “We’ll work around the general, for now.”

  “What is your interest in my project?”

  “My project”? Did Milliner realize Tias considered the project hers? Interesting. “I’ve been studying Therians longer than you’ve been alive. Your project simply has resources I need to access.”

  “You’re one of them, aren’t you? Is that how you were able to control Roberto?”

  “We’re not talking about me.” She planted her feet against the bed and rocked her hips, driving Sean’s fingers deep into her body. “I’ll send you a disposable phone.” She tightened her inner muscles, relishing the fullness and the sensual slide.

  “What will our correspondence entail? What do you expect me to do for you?”

  Zophiel smiled. She was so close. All she’d have to do is let go and her orgasm would blast through her. She reached down between her thighs and tugged on his hair. He looked up without releasing her clit. “You’ll do anything I ask of you.” She looked deep into his eyes and smiled triumphantly. “I’ll be in touch.” She ended the call and pulled the earpiece out of her ear. “Not even close, you poor dear.”

  He withdrew his fingers and glared at her. “You’re a heartless bitch. You know that, don’t you?”

  She laughed and turned over, flipping her bathrobe out of the way as she arranged herself on her knees and forearms. “You will not come until I command it. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, Mistress,” he ground out between clenched teeth.

  “In me, now.”

  He knelt behind her and thrust home so hard she hit the headboard and saw stars. She laughed and allowed his tantrum to set the pace. With her body primed and ready to explode, it didn’t take long. She came, fast and hard, crying out loudly in case he was so lost in lust that he failed to realize he’d pleased her.

  “Can I come?”

  “No!” He stopped moving, his cock still deep inside her as he muttered a long string of profanity. He was shaking, his fingers digging into her hips. His harsh panting was music to her ears. The blissful fullness of his engorged shaft eased the ache deep in her body and cruelly denying him pleasure launched a new cycle of arousal. “Nice and slow this time.” She waited until he obeyed then added, “And find somewhere really nasty to thrust those clever fingers.”

  The rhythmic notes of Zophiel’s unique ringtone echoed through the room. She glared at the phone she’d set down on the nightstand then the implication of the sound penetrated her lust-jumbled brain. Only two people had the number to her phone and one of them was dead.

  “Stop!” She shoved Sean back to ensure his compliance then scrambled off the side of the bed.

  Her phone lay on the small table she’d been using as a desk. The ringtone sounded again and she rushed across the room. She accepted the call then raised the phone to her ear. “This better be important. I’m not in the mood for games.”

  “You’ll have to determine whether or not it’s important. All I know is it’s damn strange.” Eli sounded impatient and annoyed.

  “Go on.” She knew Eli sold information to anyone willing to meet his price, so she tried to be his best customer. Despite her efforts to earn his loyalty, some of her competitors had pockets even deeper than hers.

  “My other regular customer called this morning and asked me to watch out for anything unusual.”

  He meant Nate Fitzroy, the Canine network’s Prime. “‘Anything unusual’ is a rather broad parameter.”

  “I agree and I didn’t think much of it, but my real employer got the strangest phone call less than an hour later.”

  Now he meant Erin Lashton. Eli’s “real” job was coordinating technology and security for the Rocky Mount
ain Feline Network, which was how he had access to all the pertinent information. “Who called her and what did they discuss?”

  “Our favorite wolf’s middle son called her and asked her to provide assistance for his sister.”

  He paused while she applied the appropriate names to his verbal clues. Landon Fitzroy called Erin and asked her to help Heather. “Why did his sister need assistance?”

  “She’s a Therian female who just turned twenty-five. Do you understand the significance of that statement?”

  “I do.” Therian females were required to define their animal nature by the time they turned twenty-one and a mate could be chosen for them if they hadn’t selected their own by twenty-five. These and other outdated customs had launched a massive rebellion within the Therian nation. “Did she run or just rebel?”

  “She ran.”

  “And have you learned where she’s hiding?”

  “I have, but I suspect our favorite wolf will pay more for the location than you will.”

  She chuckled, in no way intimidated by his tactics. If Nate could cough up Eli’s asking price, Eli would have called Nate first. “He might be willing to pay more, but we both know I am able to pay more.”

  “I want double our last transaction.”

  Greedy little cat. Did he honestly think he controlled this negotiation? “You will receive what you always receive, but I’ll allow you to double dip.”

  “Meaning?”

  “You will give me a three-hour head start before you call the other interested party.”

  “Agreed.”

  “If you fail to give me the full three hours I will not transfer one cent. Is that understood?”

  “Of course. I wouldn’t dream of upsetting my best customer.”

  She smiled, pleased by the designation. “So where has the little bird flown?”

  “The wayward wolf scampered off to Aspen, where she was taken in by an overprotective pub owner.”

  Her smile turned into a throaty laugh. Nate would flip out when he learned his precious daughter had run to the cats for shelter. Heather must have been desperate indeed. “Fascinating. Is there anything else I should know?”

  “My employer asked her oldest friend to check in on them.”

  Who was Erin’s oldest friend? Zophiel searched her memory, trying to determine who Erin had known—

  Ian Douglas. Cold, consuming rage spread through her being. Her pulse raced and her jaw clenched so tightly, a tiny muscle twitched in her cheek. Of course that worthless raptor would be involved. He routinely stuck his beak where it didn’t belong.

  She relaxed her jaw enough to ask, “Has he made contact yet?”

  “I have no way of knowing.”

  “All right. My three hours starts now.”

  * * * * *

  It was late afternoon by the time Heather emerged from the bedroom. Waking up in a strange house left her disoriented for a moment then the previous night came rushing back in horrible detail. She used a long, hot shower to quiet her nerves and tantalizing images of Jake’s passionate kiss chased away the darker memories. He’d held her so securely yet he’d been so wonderfully gentle. Then he’d refused to take advantage of her, even though she’d all but begged for his touch. She’d been angry and hurt when he left but he’d been right. If he’d allowed her to follow through with her rash desire, she would have regretted it today.

  Rather than donning one of Enya’s daring tops, Heather pulled the borrowed t-shirt on over the low-rise jeans. She brushed her teeth and ran a comb through her wet hair then left it loose to dry. She seldom bothered with makeup except for the rare occasions when she dressed up, so her preparations only took a few minutes.

  The house seemed deserted as she crossed the gallery then she heard unfamiliar voices. She was pretty sure the first one belonged to a woman but the distinct rumble of a male voice brought her up short. She couldn’t hear what they said but the male voice hadn’t been Jake’s. She paused at the top of the stairs, hand on the balustrade.

  “I think she’s awake,” the female said.

  “We’re in the kitchen,” Jake called. “It’s safe to come down.”

  Uncertainty kept her rooted in place. Who were the visitors and why were they here?

  A young woman moved into the living room, a friendly smile lighting her face. With sleek, dark hair and bright-green eyes, she looked anything but threatening. “I’m Devon Lashton. Your brother sent me.”

  Devon was one of the rebels. She came from a long line of cougar-shifters but Heather wasn’t sure if Devon’s animal nature had been defined or not. Devon was also the female the rebels had been searching for when they’d stumbled upon Dhane. If it weren’t for Devon, Heather’s youngest brother would still be a prisoner of the amoral humans. Landon had told her about the backers and the experiments they were running on captive Therians. Dhane and Devon might be safe from their cruel ambition, but everyone was certain there were other captives, other labs.

  “How did Landon know where I was?” Heather descended the stairs, her focus on Devon.

  Dressed in jeans and a button-up shirt, Devon smiled and ambled closer to the stairs. “Lexxie called Landon and Landon called my mother.” Her mother was Erin, Historian and rumored mastermind of the rebels. “Mom called me. Landon would have come himself, but your father’s men have been following him for weeks.”

  “Are you certain no one followed you?” Heather loitered on the last stair. Her anxiety didn’t lessen.

  “That’s why Mom called me. I’ve been staying with Ian in Snowmass, so we were much closer and less conspicuous. Ian and Jake are friends. There’s nothing suspicious about us coming here.”

  Ian as in Ian Douglas?

  Heather moved across the living room until she could see into the kitchen. Sure enough, a tall blond man sat on one of the barstools. She’d never spoken to Ian but she’d had him pointed out a time or two. His features were too rugged to be classically handsome but there was no denying the strength emanating from the man. He flashed a charming smile that did little to calm her nerves. She’d heard stories about the enigmatic raptor ever since she was a child. He was rumored to be the oldest Therian in America, perhaps in the world. Everyone was certain he was extremely powerful but few could agree on his specific abilities. Nate insisted he’d seen Ian sprout wings and fly on several occasions.

  “I’ve got fresh coffee,” Jake offered, drawing her attention away from the mysterious blond. “And I’m making omelets. Place your order if you want one.”

  “He can’t help it.” Devon grinned. “He grew up in a restaurant.” Rather than joining Ian at the bar, Devon led Heather to the kitchen table. “Have a seat. I’ll grab us some coffee while you tell Jake what you want.”

  Heather had told Jake what she wanted last night and he’d still walked away. Heat spread up her neck at the thought of how close they’d come to having sex. His kiss had left her dizzy and aching. She could only imagine how much more intense making love with him would have been.

  Making love? She hardly knew the man. Love had nothing to do with this.

  “So, what’s your pleasure?” Jake turned from the stove, spatula still in hand.

  The blush already coloring her cheeks burned even brighter. “What do you have?”

  His gaze narrowed and one corner of his mouth quirked. The sunlight made his eyes especially green. He was obviously aware of the sexual undertone. “Name it and I probably have it. If I don’t, we’ll improvise.”

  Her nipples tingled and heat pulsed between her thighs. Oh this wasn’t good. She thought they’d settled this last night. Sex was not a good idea. They’d both agreed. Which meant she had to stop looking at him as if she wanted to devour him.

  “Should we give you two some room?” Devon chuckled as she set a steaming mug of coffee in front of Heather.

  “Anything but onions,” Heather finally answered Jake’s question and forced all thoughts of sex to the back of her mind. “I’m not hard to fe
ed.”

  With a knowing smile his only response, Jake turned back to the stove.

  “Mom said the hunters are still searching for you.” Devon drew Heather’s attention back to the crisis at hand. “Lexxie wasn’t sure how many are still out there but she was pretty sure they had no idea where you’d gone.”

  “Which buys us some time, but not much else.” Ian rounded the bar and sat down across the table from Heather. Again she was struck by the regal strength evident in his every move. “If you like, I can take this before the Prime Council.”

  “I hate to point this out, sweetheart, but Nate didn’t break any rules.” Compassion shone in Devon’s gaze as she explained, “The competition her father arranged is outlined in the Charter. I looked it up this morning to make sure. It’s old and antiquated—like too many of the Charter’s rules—but it’s still a sanctioned ceremony.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me.” Heather sighed. Her father was a master manipulator. He skated along on the razor’s edge, bending but seldom breaking the rules.

  “I don’t care if it’s sanctioned or not. It’s unacceptable.” Jake walked to the table and set down a fluffy omelet in front of each of his guests.

  “I’ll petition the council to purge the entry,” Ian assured him. “Unfortunately Nate is still protected by it. Even if every member of the Prime Council agrees that the contest was reprehensible, they can’t help us.”

  “And the fact that Dad is on the Prime Council certainly doesn’t help.” Heather picked up her fork and pocked at her omelet but her appetite had all but fled. This wasn’t the first time her dignity had been compromised by outdated rules. Her definition had fallen into the same category. When she’d tried to object to being bartered as part of a proposed alliance, her father showed her the entries in the Charter that made it all completely legal. “I’ll change my name and start over somewhere else. If I do nothing to draw attention to myself, maybe—”

  “You want to live the rest of your life looking over your shoulder?” Jake objected as he moved back into the kitchen.

 

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