by Joss Ware
“But I don’t love him,” she retorted. “Elliott, please. . . .”
“Let me . . . talk. Don’t have much longer.” He tried to smile. Failed. Pain washed over his face, his cheeks so hollow, his mouth flat and agonized. Those blue eyes, now empty and flat, closed for a moment, then opened. Slowly. “I love . . . you. So. Much. I. . . .”
Jade was shaking her head, tears coming from her eyes, dripping down her face and onto the floor. “I love you too, Elliott. I don’t want anyone else . . .”
“Listen.” He let out a long breath. “Just once. Please.”
She bit her lip, but didn’t speak. Tears rolled down freely now.
“I . . . can’t live . . . in this world. . . .” He made a little movement that might have been a smile, but it was more of a grimace. “It’s not . . . mine.”
“Yes it is. You can. With me!” she said fiercely, and by God, she didn’t care anymore. She reached for him, touched him through his clothing. She felt him stiffen, in pain or fear, she didn’t know, but she felt him, spreading her hands over him, felt his strong legs and hips . . . the warmth seeping through. And at last she felt a little comfort.
Jade moved her hand and felt something hard, and rounded. In his pocket. He shifted and it moved. “What is this?” she asked.
“Crys . . . tal,” he breathed. His eyes had lost their focus. His lips barely moved.
But she caught the word and suddenly . . . a ray of hope.
A crystal. . . .
She dug it out of his pocket and the cloth wrapping fell way, dried with blood. Slender glasslike tentacles radiated from it, and hope surged deeper. She’d just seen one. Preston’s immortality crystal.
This might just work. It might.
“Elliott. Hold this. Hold the crystal,” she said, moving toward his hands . . . hands that she’d had to refrain from touching, hands bloody and dirty and torn from his battles. His fingers barely moved, but she thrust the crystal into his palm, careful not to touch those lethal digits, and waited.
Prayed.
Watched.
Listened.
She knew it had worked when she heard the change in his breathing. Hardly daring to hope, she raised her face and found him looking at her. Eyes, clear. Focused.
Shining with a variety of emotions that made her suddenly feel weak . . . and comforted.
And because the moment made her feel more than a bit out of control, she seized it back, saying, “Elliott . . . I think I’m falling in love with you.”
He smiled. A real smile this time. “That’s a relief,” he said, his words clear and strong, “because I’ve been in love with you for a few days now.”
“A few days?” she repeated. “We’ve only known each other for five.”
“Then I’d say it’s been about four.” And he kissed her.
Epilogue
“So you killed Preston, single-handedly,” Elliott said. He looked ridiculously delicious, with mussed dark hair, well-kissed lips, and a wide, bare chest. “What a woman you are.” His eyes crinkled at the corners as they focused on Jade with pride and heat, a combination that stirred her belly and made her feel as if her glow would burst forth.
Of course, that glow could have had something to do with the tangle of white sheets thrashed around them and the lump of clothes on the floor.
They’d returned to Envy late yesterday, riding in three humvees driven by Fence, Simon and Wyatt, and filled with the rescued teens. The explosion that rocked the houseboat turned out to have been a bottle rocket, lobbed by Fence, who’d arrived just as Jade was freeing Theo in the hold.
It hadn’t done any real damage to the boat and by the time Theo came up to investigate, the cavalry had arrived . . . too late, as Fence complained, to do anything but shepherd the shell-shocked teens off the boat and into the waiting humvees.
“I can’t believe he’s really gone,” she said, sliding her hand over the plains of his warm chest.
“He’s really gone, Raul’s gone, Ian Marck’s disappeared . . . and we’re really here.”
“We almost weren’t, Elliott.” Her voice tightened and her throat closed. When she thought about how close she’d come to watching him die in front of her, chained and alone . . . “You said you couldn’t live in this world.” Tears stung her eyes as she remembered the stark expression on his face, the intent. “But I need you. You won’t . . . you. . . .” Words failed her as fear reared inside her. Surely he wouldn’t leave . . . or try to sacrifice himself again?
Elliott sat up, his expression growing serious. “Jade. . . .” He shook his head, reached to comb away the hair that had fallen into her face, his fingers strong and warm over her skin. “We woke up to find the world completely different than we’d left it,” Elliott said. “We spent the last six months trying to come to terms with the fact that everything we knew and loved was gone. Had been gone, for fifty years.”
He closed his eyes. Jade’s heart swelled, filling her chest. What she’d been through was nothing compared to his experiences. At least she’d had some choices about her life. Sure, she’d lived through some frightening, painful moments, but at least her whole world hadn’t disappeared. How could he ever come to accept it?
“Elliott,” she said, and his eyes opened again, catching hers. For a moment, she felt like she might fall into them, literally sink right down into the rich, ocean-cool depths . . .
“I don’t know how to live in this world. It’s nothing like what I know, what I expected, planned for, nothing I could have conceived.” He squeezed his eyes closed for a moment, then opened them. “But I have to learn. I need to find a place. Someplace that feels right, that . . . I guess . . . grounds me. A haven.”
He planted his hand on the bed next to her, and she felt the mattress dip from his weight as he leaned closer. His eyes held hers, and she saw emptiness and sorrow there . . . and hope. Blazing hope. Something else . . . something that made her belly dip and slide.
Something infinite.
“I need you, Jade,” he whispered. “Will you?”
She met his lips halfway in answer, her eyes closing as they came too close to keep hold of his gaze. Her mouth sank into his, a glorious burst of warmth cascading through her.
Her injured arm in a sling was awkward, but it didn’t stop her from pushing forward, easing him back so that his head rested on the pillow. His strong arms pulled her with him, solid and gentle, curved around her back.
They faced each other, long legs shifting and twining together, his bare toes sliding up to gently caress her skin. The comforting weight of his thighs closed around one of hers and she felt the warmth of his belly and hips against her, raising little bumps all over her body.
He moved his hands down around to cup her bottom, drawing her close up against him, firmly but with tenderness, silently telling her how much he loved her. All the while, they kissed slowly, with great thoroughness, as though they would never stop. As though neither of them needed to breathe.
When at last he decided that they must breathe, he pulled gently away, his mouth pressing still against her cheek and jaw, the warmth of his breath gusting against her damp skin.
“This is much better,” she murmured, pulling him up against her. She wanted that bare chest against her, the heat, the muscle and hair and strength. She wanted to taste his skin, slip her hands down over the hard, ridged belly, down farther, beyond the tangled sheets.
“Better?” he murmured against her ear, just as she managed to slip a hand down into the heat, and around her quarry. He sighed as she touched him. “Oh God. Much better.”
She closed her fingers tighter around his erection, feeling the soft heaviness, the gentle pounding of his desire within her palm. “Better than last night. We were a little bloody. Dirty.” She smiled against him, remembering the flurry of tearing clothes and frantic, eager bodies the moment they had a bit of privacy. “And in a big hurry. . . .” She gave a quick little stroke and smiled with delight when he breathed in sharpl
y.
“So what’s the hurry now?” he murmured, settling against her, heavy and hard in her hand, hot and smooth. His cheeks curved against her throat and his lips nibbled gently.
Then, he moved. She was on her back with the breath knocked a bit out of her before she quite realized what had happened, her hand slipping from him and sliding up his chest.
His grin was a little crooked, his eyes hot and determined as he looked down at her. “Let’s see about taking our time,” he said, bracing himself on one hand over her while he pulled the sheet down . . . then bent and covered her perked-up nipple with a hot, slick mouth.
Jade sighed, arched up into him, and then felt her world become sleek, languorous pleasure . . . long, slippery strokes of his tongue over the sensitive top part of her nipple, the gentle suction of his lips closing over the taut point, drawing it long and hard into his mouth. Pleasure burned through her, curling into her belly, down into her depths.
She couldn’t help but smile . . . smile at the beauty of making love. So different than anything she’d known before.
His hand slipped between her legs, fingers sliding into the slick warmth as he moved upward to nuzzle and kiss her throat.
Jade shivered, trembled, and then as he slipped and slid around, gently teasing her, she realized her whole body was gathering up . . . curling into the center of her universe, right where his hand was, his finger moving more quickly just where she needed it . . . She gasped in surprise, closed her eyes, and let the pleasure tighten up . . . tighten, unbearably sweet . . . and then roll over her in long, undulating waves, sending warmth radiating from her core to the tips of her fingers and toes. Oh God . . . Elliott.
“Well, now,” he murmured into her ear. He sounded very pleased with himself and she smiled, her cheek bumping against his jaw.
“Your turn, Hawkeye,” she said, reaching for him.
“Not quite yet.” He slipped out of her range, and before she knew what he was doing, had slid all the way down, kissing her belly, until he settled between her legs. She still quivered there, her labia warm and full, and her body damp and still trembling with pleasure.
But when he bent there, his dark head rising beyond her belly, Jade lost all thought. His tongue was wicked and strong, sleek and cunning . . . and when, moments later, after her breath had gone short and rough, he lifted his face and came back up to her, she met his lips as he settled once again there . . . right there.
They lined up, warmth to warmth, Elliott propping himself up so as not to crush her arm. “And . . . now,” he said against her mouth, “let’s try this. One more time.” And he slid deep inside. And settled, still.
Looking down at her with dark, glittering eyes, his mouth full and lips parted, he said her name . . . so softly and unsteadily . . . in such a way that she felt the timbre of it vibrate deep inside her.
Her heart swelled in her chest, she felt it kicking up speed as they looked at each other, waiting . . . savoring what was to come. Then his lips pressed tightly together, he drew in a breath and bent to press a tender kiss onto her mouth.
And after that, he shifted smoothly and easily, and she rose and fell to meet his rhythm, wrapping her legs around his waist. Their breaths mingled with gasps and sighs and little encouraging noises that aroused her even further. She tried to grab at him, hold on with one hand, the rhythm faster and longer and more frantic.
Just about the time she felt that familiar gathering, the peak rising, he gave a long soft sigh that tipped her over . . . and then joined her. His heartfelt moan, low and deep against her ear, sent little pleasure-shivers over her as she felt his body trembling against hers.
She gathered his head close with her one arm as he sagged against her, half lifting his damp torso away from hers.
He sighed, slipping to the side and taking her with him. “Jade.”
She nestled next to him, sliding her hand through the hair on his chest, completely satisfied, wrung out, and ready to rest. At last.
When Jade began to awaken, Elliott was watching her. Miraculously, he’d slept too. He’d actually slept, dreamless, comforted.
She stretched like a lazy cat, purposely making her movements sinuous and slow, her bare leg brushing against his. Brushing away the cascaded hair covering part of her face, she opened her eyes.
“I love you,” she said. “Will you stay with me?”
He gathered her up. “I thought I’d already made it clear that I need you. I’m not going to leave you. Even if you try and send me away.” His lips quirked crookedly.
She pulled away, her heart suddenly pounding. “Elliott, we need to talk.”
Wariness filled his eyes, but he didn’t move. He waited, his heart bumping steadily against her hand.
“I know that you have a special gift,” she said, and felt his heartbeat quicken. “I know how important it is for you to help people. I wouldn’t want you to change, just like I hope you won’t expect me to stop going on my Running missions.”
She paused, measuring his response, but his face was blank. As if he were steeling himself against what she was about to say. “I hope now you know how important it is for us to destroy the Strangers. . . .”
“What are you trying to say?” he demanded, his eyes darkening to black. “Say it and put me out of my misery.”
And then she understood. Remorse washed over her. “Elliott, I just want . . . need . . . you to be careful. With your gift. I mean . . . you almost died yesterday. Twice.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to have to watch you go through that again. Those choices. That pain. The risk.”
At last his dark expression eased. “I see.” He settled back against the pile of pillows. “I’ve been thinking about that too. Now that I have the crystal, it appears that I can use it to heal injuries that I might take on from others.”
“But Elliott . . . what if you don’t have the crystal? Or if it doesn’t work? You’ve only tried it once.”
He looked at her, face serious, eyes understanding. “I’ve been given this gift for a reason, but I also understand its limitations. I still have pain . . . here”—he took her hand and placed it on the center of his chest—“where I took Ian’s bullet wound. And here,” he moved her fingers to his shoulder, “where Allie’s infection began. And in other places as well, like Simon’s ganga scratches.”
Then he curled his hand around her fingers. “It seems that each time I use the gift, even after I pass on the injury, I retain a little bit of it. That tells me that I can’t do it indefinitely. That means I have to choose when and where to use it.”
Jade was nodding, tears stinging her eyes. She brushed his chin with the tip of her fingers. “But you can still be a doctor, still help people, like you would before.”
His eyes crinkled. “I’ll just wear gloves. And, by the way, in regards to your Running missions”—she tensed, ready to argue, but he continued—“I’ll just go along with you and make house calls.” He leaned forward to kiss the tip of her nose. “That way you can be in charge of our travel arrangements.”
She moved so that their mouths met, and that led to another long, active battle with the sheets.
Some time later, they lay, once again sated and warm, comforted and rested . . . and with a rush, Jade remembered.
She sat up suddenly, grabbing Elliott’s arm. “I can’t believe I forgot to tell you this.”
“What now?” he asked. He looked down at her, lazily lifting an eyebrow.
“When I was with Preston, I asked him about Fielding,” she said.
“What did he say?”
“He said until they find Remington Truth, no one has any great power over him. Even Fielding. He was afraid of Fielding, I think. But it sounds like he is—was—more afraid of this Remington Truth. Whatever . . . whoever . . . that is.”
“Remington Truth,” Elliott murmured. “Quent said he was a member of the Cult of Atlantis.”
Jade continued excitedly. “But here’s the important thing that I’ve just
figured out. They’re looking for him. The gangas . . . that’s what they’re looking for! That’s what they’re chanting, over and over: Remington Truuuth,” Jade said excitedly. “Do you see?”
Elliott’s eyes sharpened thoughtfully. “And if they’re looking for Remington Truth . . . then we should do the same,” he said. “Because he’s obviously very important to them. And if we find him first. . . .”
“Exactly!” Jade smiled, feeling suddenly free. And light and happy. She was safe, Preston was dead, and she was with Elliott.
The only man she ever wanted. Forever.
A while later, she and Elliott joined the others and told them about her discovery.
They all turned to look at her, and for a moment, she was struck by these five men—Wyatt, Fence, Simon, Quent, and Elliott—the intensity, the energy emanating from them. She’d never felt so surrounded by power and capability.
She knew that these men were here to help. That somehow, whatever had happened to them in that cave had been because the world needed them. Now.
Forthcoming
Romances by Joss Ware
EMBRACE THE NIGHT ETERNAL
ABANDON THE NIGHT
Embrace the Night Eternal
Fifty years ago, their world ended.
Now five men must battle the immortals
who have destroyed everything they knew . . .
and save the women they love.
Simon had found only one way into the building, and it took him right through the darkened lobby—where the gangas lived.
He hadn’t mentioned to Sage that there were just as many canine bones as human bones littering what had once been a highly-polished black and yellow marble floor. Nor had he told her that there were about two dozen of the creatures trapped in there—obviously set to guard the place from inquisitive people like the two of them. He wondered how often someone came to provide the gangas with food—in the form of feral canines or unlucky humans. Or could the monsters subsist for months without food?