by Montana Ash
THIRTY-ONE
Ivy woke … in a bed … with another human being. What. The. Fuck. Clearly after their marathon sex session, she had fallen asleep in bed with Lark. She supposed it shouldn’t surprise her – the man was an absolute animal in the sack! But in the past, she had never slept with anyone, not even Alex. She had never allowed her guard to lower that much. And she sure never trusted anyone that much. So what did it mean now, to find her back flush against Lark’s front, as he spooned her from behind?
One masculine hand was loosely cupping her breast and there was a hairy leg, settled firmly and warmly between hers. She could feel his breath disrupting the hairs on her head as he breathed deeply and rhythmically, apparently still in the blissful ignorance of sleep. The previous night had been amazing. The sex had been fantastic – the best she’d ever had. She was feeling comfy and cosy and … panicky.
Lark had tried to do the noble thing yesterday and ward her off, insisting she wasn’t in the correct state of mind to jump into the sack with him. But had she listened? No. Life-affirming, instant gratification is what she had wanted, she remembered. The only problem, now in the light of a new day, was that she had no idea what the hell she was supposed to do from here.
The hand encompassing her breast gave a small squeeze and she felt Lark move his hips ever so subtly, his morning hardness brushing against the curve of her arse. His fingers on his other hand began weaving lazily in and out through the strands of her hair. He snuffled against her neck, “Hmm, morning.”
She felt the words rumble roughly through his chest and fought the shiver they immediately elicited. Danger! Abort, abort! she yelled at herself. She was a ranger on a mission to potentially save their whole society. She didn’t need to be feeling comfy or cosy or any other pansy emotion. She didn’t need to be having sex with her colleague who was one hundred and thirty years younger than her and best friends with her brother. She certainly didn’t need to be as attracted to the man’s mind as much as she was attracted to his body.
Therein lie danger.
Feeling panic, she sprang from the bed and snatched up her phone, racing to the bathroom. She slammed the door, half of her knowing she was acting like a maniac and the other half wanting to hyperventilate. Searching her contacts, she called the only person she knew would pick up;
“Ivy? You’d better be dying,” the sleep-roughened voice threatened, “Do you know what time it is?”
“Get over it!” she snapped, in no mood for Nikolai’s good-natured banter.
She heard a pouty hmpf before he asked, “Are you okay?”
“No! I am not okay!” she screamed, “They infected me with their virus!”
“Infected? Virus?” he yelled back, sounding more awake. “What are you talking about? Are you sick?”
“Yesss,” she hissed at him, “I’m very sick.”
“Chade poison?” he barked out, all business now. She could hear rustling in the background and could picture him throwing on clothes and weapons.
“No, it’s not that. Well, it was that. But not anymore. You’re not listening to me!” she yelled, knowing she had yet to tell him anything to listen to.
“You were poisoned?” he asked.
“Yes,” she huffed, impatiently.
“But you’re fine now. Not dying?”
She yanked on her hair, feeling her anxiety continue to rise, “Yes, I’m fine now. Death is not imminent.”
Nik let out an aggravated breath, “Jeez, Ivy. You scared the crap outta me. What’s going on?”
“It’s their … niceness. It’s contagious. I woke up all happy and safe and warm. I’ve talked more in the past few weeks than I have in my entire lifetime. And I feel like smiling all the time. Smiling!” she panted.
Her boss had the audacity to laugh at her, “I see. Well, this sounds very bad. I agree with you; it’s a virus. Definitely a nasty virus,” his words were solemn but his tone was filled with hilarity.
“I’m serious, Nik. Before I left they were calling me family. Family! It’s going to be even worse now,” she lamented.
“And what’s wrong with that?” he questioned, his tone quieting now.
She scoffed, “Come on, we both know I’m not family material.”
“Do we? Huh, what about Beyden then? Hasn’t he always been your family?”
She gritted her teeth – Nik was being deliberately difficult, “That’s different – he’s my baby brother.”
“And what about your mother? You always told me such wonderful stories about her,” he pushed.
She growled, “You’re deliberately twisting the situation. Of course my mother and brother are family – it’s not like I have a choice about that.”
“No, you don’t. But this family has a choice. And they’re choosing you. What a wonderful privilege,” his voice was soft, rich with rebuke and warmth at the same time.
Ivy felt her panic deflate and shame trickle in. Yes, a family made from choices and love instead of obligation was indeed an incredible type of special.
“Ivy, what’s this really about?” her Commander asked her now.
She felt herself hesitate, “I told you –”
“Yes, yes – you’re turning soft, nice-infections, and fuzzy viruses – blah blah. You’re just letting people in, Ivy, that’s all. That carefully constructed wall we all build so we can go and kill our brethren every day – people are finally choosing to see past it. It’s a good thing, Ivy. It’s about damn time if you ask me. What are you so worried about? Allowing people to see the real you will not take your power away. You’re still a hard-arsed, bitch of a ranger. Always will be. Some of us honestly like that about you.”
She pictured the red-headed, green-eyed man naked in the adjoining room and felt herself sigh, “I know – that’s the problem. He does.”
“He?” Nik’s voice perked up before turning downright cheeky, “He? Well, isn’t this interesting. Do you have a boyfriend, Ivy?”
“No!” she yelled, alarm rising for a whole other reason now. What had she been thinking, calling Nik about something like this?
“Oh, me think you doth protest too much. Tell me about him – no wait, let me guess; he’s mature, tall, dark, broad shoulders with rippling abs and a fuck-the-world attitude.”
Ivy didn’t say anything but knew he could hear the gnashing of her teeth.
He chuckled, “Come on, Ivy. I’m right, aren’t I? I bet he’s a real bear.”
She hated his assumptions, “You’re wrong on every count; he’s young – thirty-one to be exact, lean with auburn hair, the perfect six-pack, and happy as a lark.”
Silence met her ears for a few seconds, before; “Happy as a lark, you say? Or do you mean his name is Lark? Tell me you’re not sleeping with that baby-faced paladin!”
She stiffened in insult from his disbelieving tone, “And what if I am?”
“He doesn’t suit you, that’s all,” he answered.
“What do you mean, he doesn’t suit me? He suits me just fine! I’ll have you know that he’s very intelligent and can actually carry a conversation with words that are more than one syllable. He reads books that aren’t just pictures. He’s open and friendly and caring. And he’s a damn good soldier. You should see him cutting down the chades – he moves like some kind of a warrior-dancer-god!”
By the time she finished her defence of Lark, she was yelling and running out of breath. She then also realised two things simultaneously; Nik had deliberately goaded her into revealing her true feelings and Lark was now standing directly behind her, listening to everything.
“I gotta go. But when I see you next, I’m going to kick you in the nuts – hard!” she informed her commander. His deep, baritone laughter could be heard as she hit the end button on her phone.
Wondering if she could stay really still and Lark would move on just like a T-rex would, she held her breath. But apparently, he didn’t share any DNA with the extinct reptiles because she could feel his breath fanning again
st the back of her neck and his hands spanning her waist. A definite prod of something hard against her bottom left her in no doubt as to how Lark had received her words.
“Ivy …” he breathed.
“Yes …” she responded, breathlessly.
“I’m good with words.”
She nodded, “I know.”
“But I’m not going to use words now,” he informed her.
She swallowed hard, “You’re not?”
Soft lips traced the back her neck, “Uh uh … I’m going to use actions. Ivy …”
She gulped, audibly.
“Prepare yourself,” he warned one second before lifting her up and throwing her over his shoulder.
THIRTY-TWO
Lark sighed, feeling smug, relaxed and just about perfect. He’d been concerned when Ivy had made her mad dash to the bathroom. He didn’t want to eavesdrop but had been scared she was talking to someone who would support whatever crazy notions were running through her head. Hearing her admit to her true feelings about him had made him feel like the king of the world. The power of a goddess running through his veins paled in comparison to the feelings her words evoked. After tossing her over his shoulder and throwing her down on the bed, he had proceeded to show her just how far his appreciation went.
Now, two hours later, he was exhausted but sated with a gloriously naked Ivy in his arms. They hadn’t spoken but she also hadn’t done another runner. He could only hope that meant she wasn’t panicking about the ‘nice virus’ again. He snorted, remembering her words to her commander. The poor woman had gotten so used to being unemotional, a few happy feelings made her believe she was sick. He would help her with that and he knew the others would too.
Presently, Ivy shifted, causing the blankets to slip down. Her high, firm breasts and dusky nipples were completely exposed to his gaze and he felt his mouth water. Too bad her next words had his erection deflating in one second flat.
“You know I had sex with Ryker, don’t you?”
He immediately stiffened at the reminder and took his time answering, forcing down the urge to march back to camp and throttle his Captain half to death, “I’m aware,” he bit out.
“Does that bother you?” she asked, head tilted on the pillow, long, black hair in utter disarray around her heart-shaped face.
Because of me, he reminded himself. Her hair is messed up, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes are glassy from pleasure because of me. He never considered himself to be a possessive person but hearing Ivy talk about ex-lovers had him re-thinking his position. Realising she was still awaiting his response, he answered her honestly;
“Yes, it bothers me. Not because it was Ryker, necessarily …” although, he was pretty sure he’d be challenging the other man to a duel next time they trained together, “The thought of you with anyone but me is bothersome.”
“Really?” Ivy asked, surprise evident in her voice.
Lark cocked his head at her, “Why does that surprise you? After everything we’ve been through these past weeks, everything I’ve learned about you. And especially after the amazing night – and morning – we just had. You’re perfect in every way to me. Seeing you here like this – relaxed and rosy …” he broke off, tracing a finger around the pert, dark disc on the tip of her breast, “The thought of anyone else seeing you like this … well, it makes me see red.”
“Even though it was before I met you?” she queried.
“Even though,” he admitted through gritted teeth. He had always thought he was so even-tempered and easy-going. Seems he also had some barbarian in him too. He kind of liked it – not that he would be telling Ivy that.
Ivy was watching him now with a gleam in her eyes he couldn’t place. “Max doesn’t care that I slept with her guy,” she pointed out.
He grunted at that, flopping down onto his back next to her. The post-sex happy glow he was feeling was steadily being sucked away with all this ex-lover talk. “Yeah, well. Max isn’t quite right in the head, is she?” he informed his woman, a little grumpily.
And then she did it – something he had never seen her do in all the months he had known her.
She laughed.
The sound was bright and bubbly, a tinkling tone filled with warmth and humour. Right then was the moment he felt himself fall … and fall hard.
*****
“What is it?” Ivy asked, peering up at the stupefied look on Lark’s face, “Are you okay? You look like you’ve just had a stroke.”
“What? No, I mean yes, I’m fine. No stroke.”
His chuckle was rough and sounded forced to her ears. But then, what did she know? This whole, relaxing with a lover in post-coital bliss was new to her. “You don’t need to be bothered,” she volunteered.
“Oh?” he arched an eyebrow at her, still looking a little miffed and she’d be lying if she said his possessiveness and jealousy didn’t make her happy.
“You don’t need to be bothered because this is a first for me. Nobody else has ever seen me like this,” she expanded.
“Huh?” he still looked a little confused and she wondered if he’d lost some of his IQ when he’d orgasmed so hard earlier.
“Like this …” she waved a hand at herself and repeated his words back to him, “All relaxed and rosy. I’ve never been this way with anyone else.”
And it was the truth too. She’d had her fair share of sex over the years but it had always been a perfunctory task. Usually something to do as a form of release but sometimes for the sake of having some basic human contact. Alex had been the exception and look how well that had turned out. She had never been interested in anything more intimate. But somehow Lark had managed to change her values in just a few short months. His daily words of romance and of kindness had accomplished what might and force could never have done; break down her fortified walls.
“Talk to me,” his voice broke the silence.
“You want to talk?” she asked, surprised.
“Sure. I’m happy to pursue more active endeavours if you prefer. I’m also happy to hold you as we sleep too. But we’ve already done both. Besides, I’ve been thinking–”
“Do you ever stop thinking?” she cut in.
He shrugged, “No. Not really. My brain is constantly on the prowl, wheels continuously turning, constantly processing. I’m pretty much a geek. Does that bother you?”
She looked at him, surprised, “No. Why would it?”
“I don’t know. Some people find it annoying,” he explained.
“Not me. Intelligence is sexy,” she admitted before she could censor herself.
“Really? Sexy, huh?” he almost sounded like he was purring as he nuzzled her neck and she felt her body light up with anticipation.
“I thought we were going to talk,” she reminded him. She was more than happy to go another round. But she also found herself wanting to know what he had been thinking.
He pulled back, searching her face, “You sure? It’s going to be a mood killer.”
Her stomach dipped a little but she nodded anyway, “You want to talk about the council,” she guessed.
He nodded, “I do. As well as the chades. I have these ideas you see and it helps to have a sounding board.”
Her duty as a ranger demanded complete loyalty to the council and any talk against them amounted to treason. She knew better than most what the punishment was for such a crime. But she’d be lying if she didn’t admit she had questions – for a long time now. She was also tickled that Lark trusted her and valued her opinion, so she simply nodded and waited for him to speak.
“Okay, well, let’s start with the massacre itself and then move on to the timing of it,” he began, getting up and pulling on pants. “We all know there has never been a coordinated attack like that ever in all our history, despite the fact that chades have been a part of our world for thousands of years.”
She propped some pillows behind her back, intrigued when he started to pace, hands clasped behind his back. He looked like a ho
t professor gearing up for a lecture. She responded even though he hadn’t asked a question, “Right. As long as there have been wardens, there have been chades. But never in the numbers that we’ve been seeing the past couple hundred years. And certainly not in the numbers we saw before the Great Massacre. Although, what we’ve seen these last few months …”
“Exactly, why is that? What happened to make the numbers increase? It’s a medical condition – a disease – so what changed a couple of hundred years ago to make the disease more prevalent?”
She thought about that, finding herself genuinely drawn into the conversation, “You think there was some kind of trigger?” she guessed.
He nodded once in the affirmative, “I do. There had to have been. It’s the only thing that makes sense. I’m thinking environmental …”
Now it was her turn to nod as she followed his reasoning, “Right. Because it can’t be evolutionary – like a natural progression. It slowed down. After the Great Massacre, the number of chade conversions decreased for a while. They’re just starting to increase again now. If it was merely evolutionary, we would have seen a steady increase in the numbers over the years – or at least a constant number.”
She looked up to find Lark grinning at her, “You’re right,” he said, “Intelligence is sexy.”
She ducked her head, feeling a warm flush heat her cheeks. His approval meant a lot to her, “How does this help us?” she asked.
He grunted, “I don’t know. But I think if we figure out the trigger, we can figure out the motive behind the attack.”
She sat up straight again, “You think there was a specific purpose for the massacre?”
“Of course. Don’t you? Why else?”
“Food,” she automatically stated, but Lark was already shaking his head.
“That made sense when we thought chades were driven purely by instinct – or evil. But we know better now, thanks to Dex and Knox and all the others.”
She couldn’t dispute that, “Then if not for vitality, why then?”
Lark shoved his hands in his pockets, pacing again now. With every turn, she caught glimpses of his scarred back and she remembered feeling them beneath her nails when she clung to him during sex. The rough texture added a little something extra to the experience – though she wasn’t insensitive enough to say so out loud.