Grimm Tidings: Grimm's Circle, Book 6

by Shiloh Walker

  Celine didn’t pay any attention to Rob’s babbling. She was too busy staring at Will. “Tell me where he is.”

  “Celine—”

  “No! Don’t placate me, don’t try to stall me, just tell me where in the hell he is!” Rage burned inside her, bubbled and brewed, threatened to spill out. She had to find Jacob, damn it. “Don’t you get it? This isn’t your place. You want to run your merry little band of guardian angels, you go ahead and do that. But that’s not what this is—you’re interfering in my life. In his life. We have a right to personal lives, Will, and you don’t have the right to tell us we can’t do this or can’t do that or that I give him time. If that’s what turns out to be the best thing, then it’s my screw-up to make, not yours.”

  Will stared at her, silent.

  “It’s my life. I’ve ignored it for the past four years, but it’s high time I start living the life I’ve got, and you’re in the way.”

  Closing his eyes, Will bowed his head.

  “Don’t be expecting an easy way with him, Celine. He’s got it in his head that you still love your husband and he’s not going to think clearly on anything.”

  “That’s our problem—we’ll work it out.” She continued to wait.

  “He’s in England.” He lifted a hand and Celine stared, slack-jawed, as a silver circle formed.

  Oh, shit. She had to go through that.

  Will cocked a brow. “How badly do you want to speak with him?”

  Once the portal closed behind Celine, Will turned to Rob.

  “Well, I’ve had a smashing time, but all this togetherness is killing me.” Rob didn’t bother looking at Will. “I think I’ll avoid England for a while, though.”

  “You’re not quite ready to leave yet,” Will said, his voice neutral.

  “Oh, yes, I am.” Grimly, Rob gathered up what few weapons he carried and started for the door. “I’m done with the team-player bit for now. You can—”

  An invisible force froze Rob in place. “Oh, would you just stop?”

  Or that was what he tried to say—he managed, Oh before he went flying across the room, slamming into the solid oak of the front door, smashing his head into it.

  Will flipped him around with a twist of his mind and started toward him. “Whatever you think you know about me,” he said quietly. “You need to forget it.”

  Dazed, Rob reached up, touching his battered head. Blood seeped from it. “Look, mate…”

  “No.” Will’s eyes narrowed.

  There was no other warning.

  Rob felt something squeezing him—all over. It was like the very air was trying to crush him.

  “You look. I said, you need to forget it.” Then Will cocked his head. “But first…I wonder. Just who did you hear it from? You’re not old enough…”

  The pain that punched through Rob’s mind was obscene. He convulsed, his head slamming back—it was like snakes were crawling, wriggling through.

  “You’ve gotten rather strong,” Will observed. “I’ll get to it—”

  “Will.”

  “Mandy, do leave.”

  Rob screamed as the pain increased—buggering hell, it was going to split his brain in two—

  “Will.”

  Through bloody, watering eyes, he saw her. A haze of tears, sweat and blood half-obscured his vision, but there was a woman. A crazy, stupid woman who was likely to die—

  Mandy knew he was a scary bastard, but she hadn’t ever seen him this close to the edge. Hadn’t ever felt him this close to the edge.

  Her heart slammed against her ribs as she stepped between Will and whoever the other guy was. Blood streamed from the man’s eyes, his ears, his nose. She was going to have her hands full, healing that one. But, first, she had to stop Will.

  Reaching up, she touched his cheek.

  He was as cold as ice.

  Just as remote.

  As his silver eyes cut to hers, she said, “Whatever he’s said that’s made you so angry, is it worth this?”

  “Mandy, I believe I told you to leave.”

  “And I said…no.” Shit. This was going to hurt. She really, really hadn’t wanted to do this. Reaching up with her other hand, she cupped his face between her palms and closed her eyes.

  His power was so strange to her.

  A mix of silver, purple and red.

  Right now—all red. She caught that red and held it.

  As it punched straight into her core, a scream bubbled out of her.

  Rob knew the exact moment when she’d done something.

  The pain stopped.

  And her screams started.

  But he couldn’t do a damn thing.

  Because he still couldn’t breathe…couldn’t move.

  It wasn’t because of Will’s power, though.

  It was because that bastard had almost killed him.

  Will cut the flow off and caught Mandy before she hit the ground—what had she done?

  But he already knew.

  Mandy’s gift as a Grimm had nothing to do with her ability to heal. She’d been a touch-healer even as a human. Although it had strengthened since her change, that was uniquely her gift.

  This…

  The blood trickling from her nose, from her mouth…that was because of her Grimm talent. She’d hidden this, he realized. She could see their gifts. And intercept them.

  He knew, because he shared the same power.

  It was that power that let him train others if no other was able to train the new ones. She could intercept them, and manipulate them.

  But the power she’d taken from him was a devastating one and unless she’d deflected it back, it had to go somewhere…

  “You little fool,” he whispered. He touched the blood at the corner of her mouth.

  Under his touch, her skin was cool. But he could sense the steady beat of her heart. He could feel the strength of her, and it was steady. There was no permanent harm.

  And if it was anybody but Mandy…

  Her lashes moved.

  A few seconds later, he found himself staring into her eyes.

  “You’re are the most daft woman I’ve ever met.”

  A tired smile curled her lips. “Well, I told you to stop. What did you expect me to do? Just walk away? I’ve never done that before.”

  “So why should you start now?” He sighed. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I knew what I was doing. But you can say you’re sorry to the guy you were trying to kill.”

  Will grimaced and shot Rob a dirty look. He hadn’t been trying to kill him. Just hurt him. And find a few answers. If he’d wanted Rob dead, he’d have him dead.

  “Let me—”

  Mandy averted her face when he would have touched her cheek. “If you even try to take the pain before you heal him, I’m going to hurt you. I’ll find a way, too, and you know it.”

  He stared at her and wondered what she’d think if he told her that she managed to break his heart a little more every day.

  But instead, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed. He wouldn’t leave her on the floor. Already her body was undoing the damage he’d done. She was strong, and the healer gift in her would have gone to work almost as soon as the injuries had begun.

  Rob, though, well. He was a mess.

  Staring at the bloodied Grimm, Will realized that perhaps he’d been a little closer to the edge than he’d realized. All because Rob hadn’t been wrong. Will had lost his mind, his soul, all of it…so very long ago.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Celine had only one thought in the moments it took her to go from here to wherever in the hell there was.

  That thought—please let me end up where Jacob is.

  She’d left the States before, but only since she’d become a Grimm and that had always been with one of her trainers. Usually, with Jacob. It wasn’t like she’d been looking at the sights, either.

  If she actually had to search, she was screwed.

  She all
but fell out of the portal onto a musty carpet that had seen much better days. There was a fire crackling a few feet away and more, there was a long pair of legs sprawled in front of her.

  She knew those legs.

  Lifting her head, she found herself the object of a pair of narrow, gunmetal gray eyes.

  “I think Will sometimes gets too involved in the lives of others,” Jacob said, staring at her over the edge of a glass that looked like it might be crystal.

  “Well, I’d agree with you, but you know, he finally listened to reason and sent me here.” Standing, she brushed off the knees of her pants and shoved her hands in her pockets, watching him. If she even got an inkling he was going to try and pull his disappearing act, she was jumping him.

  “Reason? If he was listening to reason, you wouldn’t be here.”

  Ouch, she thought. Then she frowned, hearing the slight slur in his words.

  And the stink in the air—thick with the stink of whiskey. Very, very strong whiskey.

  “Are you…” She paused. That was going to sound really stupid. Oh, well. “Are you drunk?”

  Jacob tossed back the contents of the glass and then slammed it down, added more from the decanter at his side. With a devilish smile, he filled it and lifted the glass once more. “Do you know, when we first come out of stasis, our metabolism and all the rot is almost like it was when we were human? Which means if I drink enough, and do it fast enough…I can get drunk.” He sighed and lowered his gaze, studying the amber contents of the glass. “Sometimes I miss a good drunk.”

  Celine moved toward him. His gaze cut to her. She froze—oh, hell, don’t let him do it again, she thought. But all he did was watch her. As she sank to her knees in front of him, something bright and wild flickered in the depths of his eyes.

  “Why are you here, Celine?” he whispered, taking another swig from his glass.

  “Because you are.” She reached up and gently took the glass away from him, a little surprised when he let her. “Now I get to ask a question—why are you sitting here getting drunk?”

  “Beats sitting here thinking about things I don’t want to think about.” He started to reach up, but then he stopped.

  She caught his hand. “You need to know something,” she said quietly, lacing her fingers with his.

  Jacob closed his hands, dropping his head back against the heavily padded back of the chair. “I already know more than I care to, thank you,” he groused. “I don’t wish to talk. I want to go back to my drinking.”

  “We need to—”

  “No.” He opened one eye. And this time, when he lifted a hand, he did touch her. He pushed his fingers into her hair and abruptly, he rose. It should have been awkward, because he didn’t release his hold on her hair and she’d been kneeling in front of him.

  But Jacob had more than a few decades behind him to figure out how to move and he managed to do it without tangling their bodies or fumbling around. “I think I’ve changed my mind, love,” he muttered, pressing his mouth to hers. “I’ll be your distraction.”

  “My…”

  But she didn’t manage to get the words out. Didn’t manage to get another breath, because Jacob stole it. With his tongue in her mouth and his hands stroking over her body, he stole her words and her thoughts. And her strength.

  It drained out of her and if he hadn’t been there, that solid, steady length pressing against her body, she would have sagged to the floor.

  She wrapped her arms around his waist, clutching him tight. Damn it, if he tried to pull away this time, she was going to hurt him. In so many ways—

  This was madness.

  Sheer madness.

  And if his brain wasn’t clouded by liquor, need and that befuddling confusion, he might have been able to stop it. But he couldn’t…just couldn’t. Then there was that terrible ache in his chest. That need for her. That love for her.

  But still…

  “Celine—”

  She reached up and shoved his shirt away, then curled a hand around his neck, tugging his mouth back to hers. “Just kiss me,” she whispered. “You don’t want to talk, so we’ll do that later. Kiss me.”

  Talk—

  No. He didn’t want to talk.

  But this, was this what he needed?

  As her fingers stroked his waist and dipped inside his trousers, he thought, Hell, yes. Not like he didn’t already have all these miseries and regrets to live with. What was one more?

  He eased back, staring into her eyes. Toying with the hem of her shirt, he said, “You tore my shirt. It seems I should return the favor.”

  “Does it?” She lowered her gaze, eyeing the ripped shirt he still wore. She reached up, smoothed the remains of it away from his shoulders. “Yeah. I did pretty much ruin the thing, didn’t I?”

  “Yes, you did.” He hooked the front of his hand in the neck of her T-shirt, holding her gaze. “It’s not a favorite of yours, I hope.”

  “Well, I never asked if that was yours…”

  The sound of fabric ripping loudly echoed through the room. Jacob’s breath hitched in his chest as he found himself staring at the baby-blue lace that cupped her breasts. It was covered with little white polka dots and dotted with flowers. “Now, we can’t tear this,” he murmured, absently stripping the remains of her shirt away.

  “Well, I do like the bra.” She reached behind but before she could unhook it, he did it.

  Pressing his lips to her shoulder, he tossed the bra aside.

  “I should take you to my room,” he whispered.

  “I’m fine.” She glanced at the fireplace and smiled. “I like the fire.”

  “No.” Dimly, through the lust, through the need, he could still think and he knew he shouldn’t let this happen again. Not unless she was really his. He’d have one memory of her in his bed, though. One memory. Then he’d let her go. Find some way to keep away.

  Sweeping her up into his arms, he waited until the room stopped spinning and then he left the library, striding down familiar halls. This had been his home for decades and although he rarely visited, it was still…plain and simply, home.

  He’d wanted her in his home.

  The sprawling four-poster bed waited for them in the shadows. He didn’t bother with the lights. He didn’t need them to see her and he didn’t want to waste a second. Already he could feel the cloud struggling to clear from his mind and he didn’t want that—didn’t want the responsibility of thinking clearly. Not yet.

  He settled them on the bed and grabbed the waist of her jeans, jerking at the button, the zipper, fumbling in his haste. He should just tear the damn material—

  “Hey, what’s your hurry?”

  Her hands came over his and he looked up, half-mad with his determination to get her naked. “Damn blue jeans. They won’t seem to come off,” he muttered.

  “Sure they will.” She unbuttoned them, unzipped them.

  A flush settled on his cheeks as she lifted her hips, wiggling a little as she shoved them down. Then it stopped as the blood drained out of his head, straight, straight down…

  Straight to his cock.

  Covering her hands with his, he rasped, “Let me.”

  Why miss this chance to touch her? Stripping the jeans, the panties away, he stared at her, at those sleek, pale curves, lush enough to cradle him, and underneath those curves, the body of a warrior…his warrior. For now.

  Only for now—

  It ripped at him. Because he couldn’t let her see, he rolled onto his knees between her thighs and pressed his face to her belly, breathed in her scent. This…just this. To be with her. He hadn’t ever wanted anything as much as he’d wanted this.

  And although with every passing second, the fog in his brain was lifting, it didn’t matter. He could get drunk on her now. For now. For the moment. So he would. Easing lower, lower, he settled between her thighs, nuzzling the patch of curls there. Celine hissed out a breath, her hands coming down to grip his wrists.

  “Jacob…”<
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  He flicked her a glance as he parted her folds with his tongue, groaned as she bucked against him. Again…he wanted to have her do that again. And again…

  From under his lashes, he watched as her head fell back, the long slim line of her throat exposed. So damned beautiful. He loved her so damn much, that strength, that courage…

  His chest ached as he brought her to climax—the first time. In real life. They’d only have this for so long…

  No. Even the thought of it shattered him. Growling, he levered his body up over her, staring down at her flushed face. “I’ve dreamt of that,” he whispered, lowering his head to kiss her.

  She wrapped one arm around his neck, her mouth opening under his. “I’ve dreamt of you doing that…and more.” Sliding her free hand down his chest, she whispered against his lips, “You’re still wearing clothes. This would be much easier if you weren’t.”

  “Very good point.” He shoved up on his knees, tearing at the fly of his jeans, not caring when the sturdy denim tore under his suddenly clumsy hands. Shoving the ragged denim down, he moved back over her, wrapping her in his arms. “Celine…”

  “Hmmm.” She pressed her lips to his chin. “Make love to me, Jacob,” she whispered, curving her hand over the back of his head, staring into his eyes.

  If he didn’t know better, if he wasn’t careful, he might just think this meant something, might think it meant the same thing to her that it meant to him. And he couldn’t go down that road. Not without risking more heartache than he already had. Closing his eyes, he took her mouth. If he didn’t look at her. If he didn’t let himself wish for more…

  Settling between her thighs, he groaned as she wrapped her legs around him. Wet and slick, he could feel her as he nudged against her. The head of his cock brushed against soft, satiny tissues and they yielded as he pressed forward. Both of them shuddered. She whimpered into his kiss, her nails biting into his flesh and she bit his tongue, then sucked on it…

  Oh, fuck me—

  He slammed into her and she cried out into his mouth, her thighs tensed, the muscles in her sheath rippling around him, milking him—like a fist along all his length and the sensation got tighter and tighter—