The pain eventually receded to a dull ache, and Trent slowly straightened. Thank God she hadn’t had more momentum, or he’d be worried about the ability to make werewolf babies. He looked down at her. Her eyes were filled with remorse and concern. She continued rubbing his shoulders. He captured her hands and pressed them to his chest. “That’s not where it hurts.”
She sharply inhaled as she glanced at the front of his shorts. “Well, I’m not rubbing anything down there.”
He chuckled. “I didn’t intend for you to, Sophie.” But he wouldn’t have stopped her if she’d wanted to give it a try.
Her hands felt small and warm under his. His heart pounded triple time, and his throat felt dry. Moonlight trickled through the oak’s foliage, but it barely penetrated the cocoon of darkness. He felt like he and Sophie were the only two people in the world. She looked at him, a question in her eyes. Her hands grew restless, but his fingertips stroked the soft skin, and she stilled.
Don’t do this, Trent, whispered Logic. It’ll complicate everything.
“May I kiss you?” he asked.
You are so stupid, hissed Logic.
She stared at him. “What?”
“I’ve wanted to kiss you since I met you.” Trent looped her arms around his neck, relieved when she left them there. He grasped her waist, hands trembling. He felt close to something important.
World-changing.
Sophie.
The sweet weight of her breasts pressed against him, and despite his recent “accident,” his body stirred at her nearness. She looked up at him, almost shyly, and he watched the play of emotions on her face. Trent lowered his head, his mouth only a whisper away, and waited, hoping Sophie would decide his lips were worthy of hers.
* * *
SOPHIE WAS DESPERATELY tempted by Trent’s magnificent mouth. She was afraid of the rapid pounding of her heart, afraid of the wobbly feel of her knees, afraid of the attraction to the handsome man before her asking so sweetly for a kiss.
She closed the distance and brushed her lips against his.
Electricity jolted straight through her right down to her toes. Her arms tightened around his neck, and he took the hint, drawing her more deeply into his embrace. His lips took hers again and again until he split the seam of her mouth with his tongue, and started a dance that made heart pour through her. Her fingers slid through his soft, wavy hair and she pressed even harder against him. She felt his heart thundering against her own.
Pheromones thickened the air, the musky scent of their mutual need building their desire to new, desperate fiery heights.
Trent regained control first.
He pulled away, just a little, his chest heaving as he tried to steady his breathing. He had a dazed look in his eyes and his lips held the plumpness of a mouth well-kissed. If she needed any other evidence of his desire, she needed only to focus on the thick length of his cock bulging through his shorts and against her stomach.
Sophie followed his lead and attempted to get her hormones under control.
She focused on the wind-strewn leaves cavorting on the ground. Sophie watched their dance, slightly mesmerized, as she tried to calm the jitters running through her.
“Sophie?” Trent’s deep voice sounded both reassuring and maddening sensual.
She faced him. “I don’t think I’m ready for this. Whatever this is. I’m…just…you know.” She frowned and rubbed her forehead. She wasn’t making any sense. The man even affected her sentence structure.
“I’m not sorry we kissed,” said Trent. “But I’ll back off. I want you to trust me.” He brushed a loose strand of hair from her cheek. “Do you believe I want to help you?”
She gazed up at him. Unable to discern the emotions on his shadowed features, she decided he sounded sincere. Sophie nodded slowly. “I believe that. But trust is another issue.”
“I understand.”
He let her go, and stepped away. She immediately missed his warmth, not to mention the feeling of being wanted. Her feelings skittered close to the edge of true caring.
Suddenly, a low throb started in her head. She rubbed her temples. The ache sharpened, drawing a hiss of pain from her.
“What’s wrong?”
“Headache.”
The pain increased, nearly buckling her knees. Trent steadied her. “Do you have headaches often?”
“No, I—” Sudden fear froze her. Eyes wide, she looked at him. His gaze darkened with concern. “The last time I felt this way, the Alberich attacked.” Panic rioted through her. “No. Not in Broken Heart. We’re safe here. Right?” She started shaking, her teeth clacking together.
He placed his fingertips on her temples. He looked at her, his expression calm, his gaze steady. “Look at me, Sophie.”
She obeyed his gentle command and stared deeply into his eyes.
“Stay with me,” he said very, very softly.
“I’m here,” she whispered. “Right here.”
Sophie felt warmth where Trent’s fingers rested on her scalp. The warmth turned into a pleasant tingling, and she felt the panic pulled from her like air escaping from a balloon. As she stared at Trent, his warm brown eyes turned a fiery gold, pure and bright, and as every second passed, she felt calmer.
Then Trent closed his eyes and let go of her head, stepping back. She watched gold tears leak from his eyes and wiggle like spastic worms over his body. They sank into Trent’s flesh, lighting his skin briefly before disappearing all together.
“What just happened?” she asked.
Trent opened his eyes, and he looked exhausted. “I think you’ll sleep better now.”
“Are you some kind of magical werewolf?”
He laughed. “No. Not really. I have an ability to absorb pain.” He swayed before steadying himself. “I need to rest now.”
She had questions, a lot of questions, but Trent appeared pale and utterly exhausted. Her worry for him stopped her from pummeling him for answers. Her concern grew as she saw him sway. She reached out and grabbed his shoulder, trying to steady him. “Are you all right?”
“It’s been a while since I’ve done this,” he said. “I forgot how it felt.”
“Do you want me to help you up the stairs?
“I’ll be fine.” He took her hand off his shoulder and lifted it to his lips for a gentle kiss. “Good night, Sophie.”
“Good night, Trent.”
He turned and walked slowly toward the garage, obviously in pain, as he limped up the stairs. She wanted to catch up to him, to help him somehow, but he’d made it clear that he didn’t want her help. There was a big part of her that was completely freaked out about watching gold tears swim into his skin. But she felt better. Unnaturally so.
What the hell had Nana and Queen Patsy cooked up?
And who…or what…was Trent Clayton?
Chapter Four
THE PHONE RANG. Sophie groggily opened one eye. It rang again, and she groaned. She’d slept well for the first night since, well, ever. Whatever mojo Trent used to take her pain, she was grateful. Weirded out, but totally appreciative.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
She grabbed the receiver. “What?”
“Sophie! How are you, darling?”
“Brianna. It’s...” Sophie tried to find her cell phone and check the time but soon gave up. “Morning.”
“It’s almost brunch, darling. Come to Zerina’s and catch up. I have mimosas.”
Sophie usually enjoyed Brianna’s impromptu visits. She was a fae, like Zerina, although a great deal less prone to revenge magic. Zee was well known for changing people’s hair colors—or removing the hair entirely in the case of one particularly persistent werewolf—if she got miffed.
“I love you, Bri. But there is no brunch on this earth grand enough to make me get out of bed.”
“You’re impossible.” Brianna heaved a melodramatic sigh. I’ll be there tonight at six sharp so we can get all dolled up.”
“Okay.” Dolled up? Crap. “Wa
it. Remind me.”
“You forgot.”
“I did not.” She bit her lip. “I’m nursing a sleep hang over. Brain’s fuzzy.”
“I put together a magical soiree once a year, and you can’t even bother to mark your calendar?”
“It’s been a difficult year.”
“I heard, sweetie,” said Brianna. “And I’m sorry. What happened to you was awful. But I will not let you sit around on your cute werewolf ass and miss my party.”
Sophie knew there was no way she’d get out of the fae’s annual Halloween bash. This was the first time that Brianna had hosted it in Broken Heart, and Sophie had promised, eight months before, that she would attend.
Besides, she didn’t want to risk Zee’s ire and suddenly have fur the color of an Easter egg. “All right. Six tonight. I’m all yours.”
“That’s my girl. Smooches!”
Sophie hung up the phone and lay her head back down on the pillow. She would rest her eyes for a little while longer, she told herself. But just as she drifted back to sleep, the sounds of hammering bolted her awake.
* * *
THE SHOE HIT him in the head. Trent stopped hammering and looked down. Sophie was a sight to behold. Her long white T-shirt nightgown read, “Mornings Suck.” She wore no bra, and he saw the faint outline of her panties. Her hair stuck up as if it were trying to leap off her head. She had the other shoe in her hand, ready to lob at him. She looked bleary-eyed, puffy, and he wanted to kiss her again.
“Not a morning person, huh?” he asked.
“I hate you.”
He grinned. “Well, if it helps, there’s only two hours of morning left. It’s after ten a.m.”
“I’m aware. Do you have to fix the staircase now?”
“I guess I can risk breaking my neck a few more times.”
She sighed and grabbed the previously thrown shoe from the ground. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Fully recovered. And I slept well.”
“I did, too.” She paused. “Thank you. For taking my pain.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Do you need any help?”
“If you want to help, go to the kitchen. I think your grandmother’s cooking breakfast in the wok.”
She groaned. “Not the wok.”
“Afraid so.”
They stared at each other for an endless moment before he cleared his throat. “I heard there was some kind of party tonight.”
“Yeah. Are you going?”
“I might. If you’ll go with me.”
He saw a flash of disappointment in her expression.
“I’m going with the host,” said Sophie, regret evident in her voice.
“Save me a dance?”
She nodded. “It’s a fae party. Be prepared for glitter.”
“Noted.”
“Guess I’ll save breakfast.” Sophie stepped back, turned, and walked away.
Trent watched her walk into the house. Last night, it had taken him a couple of hours to deal with the pain and panic he’d siphoned from Sophie. He knew more of her struggle now, and he was more determined than ever to help her.
Even if he had to go to a fae party to do it.
* * *
NANA WAS NOT in the kitchen. The wok was in the sink. Considering the nostril-burning stench wafting from the disposal, Sophie guessed breakfast had not been a success.
She found her grandmother in what Sophie dubbed the “Shopping Channel Rejects” room. It used to be the sewing room, but the sewing machine had long since disappeared under the growing pile of junk: Elvis prints, neon-glow blankets, flower-shaped candy bowls, and something called The Atomizer. Nana claimed the pretzel-shaped contraption strengthened thigh muscles. Afternoon sunlight streamed through the blinds, giving a rosy hue to the crap crowding into every available space. Nana pawed through a bright purple trunk, muttering as she tossed out random items.
A neon yellow high heel barely missed Sophie. She moved back to avoid getting whacked by tennis racket and a bag full of yarn. “Nana! What are you doing?”
“I gotta find my lucky bingo marker. Betty Lee is picking me up so we can go to Ultimate Bingo.”
“What’s Ultimate Bingo?”
“Big prizes. Shiny trophies. Free drinks.” Nana continued her frantic search.
A curling iron sailed through air, followed by a large stuffed teddy bear wearing a glittery red tutu. Wow. She needed to cancel the cable. Her grandmother was addicted to buying useless products.
“Ah-ha!” Nana triumphantly held up the large green bingo marker. She rose to her feet, holding her prize.
Sophie watched as her grandmother straightened the rest of her outfit—a mauve pantsuit, short-sleeved white blouse, and low-heeled white pumps. She wore her pearl necklace and earrings. Her grandmother looked charming and fragile—someone right out of a Hallmark card commercial.
Nana burped. “Wow. Breakfast is really doing a number on me.”
Scratch the Hallmark moment.
“What the hell happened to your hair?” Nana poked at it with her bingo marker.
Sophie batted away Nana’s hand. “Stop it.”
Poke. Poke. Poke.
“Nana!”
“You are such a grump in the mornings.”
“I know. How long will you be gone?”
“What are you, my mother?”
Sophie arched an eyebrow.
“Oh, ignore me. I’m just overly excited.” Nana kissed her cheek. “I love you, honey. Now wish me luck!”
“Good luck.”
A car horn beeped, and Nana waved, her smile wide. “That’s Betty Lee. I’m outtie.”
She clacked down the stairs and slammed the front door shut.
Well. Okay, then.
* * *
AT A QUARTER till six that evening, Sophie opened the front door. Brianna entered, carrying at least four shopping bags. She dropped them and hugged Sophie so hard her spine cracked. The fae wore a white skirt, white calf boots, and a beautiful green silk shirt, which matched her eyes.
“So happy to see you! We have much work to do.”
“But you’re already dressed for the party.”
Brianna laughed. “No, sweetie. This is the outfit I’m wearing to doll you up. Then I’ll switch into my fabu party dress.”
“Hey! What’s wrong with me?”
“Your hair, your make-up, and your clothes. Did I leave out anything?” She grinned impishly, revealing dimpled cheeks.
“What are in the bags?”
She looked expectantly at her. “The Sophie make-over kit.”
Brianna worked her magic, and an hour later, Sophie stared at a stranger in the mirror. Her blonde hair was pulled up in a Grecian style. A gold band glittered from the top and long curls draped her neck. Brianna had applied her make-up, giving her sultry eyes, slimmed-down cheeks, and pouty lips. The outfit, however, skirted the edge of decency. The filmy light green material of the dress swirled in layers at her mid-thigh. The top hugged her curves and gave her an amazing amount of cleavage. A jacket made out of the same filmy material draped her arm. Dazzling gold heels, dangling gold earrings and a gold bracelet twisting up her right arm completed the ensemble.
“Wow, Brianna. I don’t recognize me.”
“Oh, this is you, honey. We just had to peel off the rough layers, is all.” Brianna clapped her hands. “My turn!”
* * *
PATSY ROUNDED THE corner of the one-of-a-kind oak desk, walked past the chrome bar that housed expensive wines, dodged the mini-conference table with its plush chairs, and rounded the corner of the massive desk. She rarely used her office located in the Consortium’s compound. Being the queen of the vampires, and mom to four blood wolves and a human, was a lot of damned work. Good thing she was getting better at delegating. Her office on the second floor with its large windows had scenic advantages, and she stared at the darkened land that stretched out before her. The night called to her. She wanted nothing more than to shed he
r human skin and enjoy the wild. Especially if she could do so with Gabriel.
Her husband planned to meet her at the fae party. Tonight, she’d take off the crown of the werewolf king and wear instead the mantle of wife.
Patsy sat down at the desk and leaned back in the brown leather chair. Propping her feet on the cherry wood desk, he scanned The Broken Heart Banner. After, she stared at the stack of files in her inbox.
When had being the vampire leader been reduced to paperwork and meetings?
Patsy sighed.
How much damned adulting was a blood wolf supposed to do in a day?
She heard the click of the doorknob turning. Gabriel entered purposively. The expression on his face had Patsy straightening in her chair.
“We’ve sighted a group of Alberich.”
“Where?”
“New Mexico. Humans have been reporting sightings of Bigfoot across the state. We checked it out. It’s confirmed. The Alberich are headed in our direction. They travel at night, and for the most part, have kept themselves hidden. They’ve got the protection of someone very powerful.”
“How many?”
“Five.”
“Five is plenty enough to destroy Broken Heart and everyone in it. Hell, it’s enough to ravage Oklahoma and beyond.” She shook her head. “We need to find out who’s controlling them.”
Gabriel flopped into one of the wingback chairs that faced the desk. “I told Damian and his brothers to stay in Germany.”
“How’d that go over?”
He shook his head. “Not well. I had to call in Aufanie and Tark.”
“You told on him to his mommy and daddy?”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures, my love.” He captured her gaze. “We can handle this, right?”
“Hell, yeah.”
“Should we call off the party?” he asked.
“No need to panic everyone just yet. Besides, Brianna would have both our pelts if we dared to cancel it.”
Gabriel chuckled. He sobered quickly, though. “Will Sophie be ready?”
Lycan on the Edge: Broken Heart Book 13 Page 4