The rogue's eyes shifted to Conlon standing beside her. Mick? “Conlon,” he acknowledged with a nod. “Would it be all right if I spoke with Stacey for a moment?”
A ripple of energy drew everyone’s attention to the yard beyond the porch. The biggest male Stacey had ever seen strode forward. “Sorry, that’s a conversation that will have to wait.” The male’s booming voice held no latitude for argument. Brown eyes glanced between Stacey and Conlon. “I need to speak with you … inside.” Stacey glanced once more at Mick and followed the giant and Conlon into the house. Hans and Cassie looked up from their conversation.
“What’s this about, Sargon?” Conlon asked the giant once the door closed behind them.
“Stacey’s plane went down.” Sargon’s eyes held compassion when they met Stacey’s. Denial ripped through her. Cassie’s quick indrawn breath from behind her didn’t shake the surreal feeling. “It exploded shortly after take-off from Amsterdam.”
Maybe Jack, Mark, and the pilots jumped first. Parachutes? Was her plane equipped with parachutes? Sargon seemed to read her expression. “There were two confirmed passengers along with the pilots. None survived.”
The reality of it washed over Stacey, chilling her to the bone, and her heart dropped to her toes. Her fault, this was her fault. She should have left the plane and brought everyone through the chortal. So what if it would have made her human assistant sick, at least he would still be alive. It took everything she had not to break down in front of everyone while she turned to Cassie. “Did you pack it?”
Tears ran down her friend’s face as she nodded. “Your bags are in Conlon’s room upstairs.”
Stacey nodded and headed for the stairs. She’d find her bag … in Conlon’s room. Right now, before the numb wore off.
****
“Sire.” Nine’s telepathic call interrupted Osiris’s berating of a scientist. Perhaps he’d terminated Huey Fennel prematurely. Osiris probed his son’s mind to ensure himself of Nine’s loyalty, ignoring the suppressed pain response he got. He needed to be sure. Since Ten, he no longer trusted that his sons would remain allegiant.
Osiris grinned; Nine had no intention of betrayal. “What have you to report?” He released his grip on his son’s psyche.
It took Nine a moment to clear the pain and answer. “The plane has been destroyed. I watched the female arrive in Mesa a short time ago from beyond the energy weave.”
Excellent. “Keep track of her activities. If you see an opportunity to capture her or her son, I want you to take it.”
Nine remained silent. Osiris could feel his ire climb when Nine didn’t immediately agree. “Yes, Sire.” Nine seemed hesitant for some reason. “Ten is on the campus as well.”
Oh, yes, this just gets better and better. “Same orders, Nine. Good work … son.” He rewarded Nine with a small amount of the acceptant that all his sons craved from him.
Chapter Sixteen
The shocked expression on Stacey’s face hadn’t been what Mick expected. Horror, accusation, hurt, hatred, outrage. He’d seen that in her expression, but not when she looked directly at him. She’d stared at him like an old friend thought dead who suddenly showed up. It didn’t make sense.
Mick sat on Conlon’s porch staring into the Mesa sunset for the first time. He could hear Mattie and Hans consoling the Tellus female Mattie had introduced to him as her sister Cassiopeia. Mattie had told him of her sister a few nights ago. A tear-filled conversation about believing that her sister had abandoned her only to learn that her mother had lied to her by omission. The way Cassiopeia and Hansi looked at one another, and knowing of the marriage contract between Mattie and Hans, Mick understood there was more to the situation than meets the eyes. At least Mattie had the sister she loved back in her life.
Mick thought about his brother Nine. He and Nine had been the closest of any of the brothers, a fact Osiris knew. Had Nine suffered because of Ten’s defection? Had all of his brothers? Probably. Osiris was a monster. No doubt his brothers had more compulsions added to their psyches because of Mick. If any of them even wanted to leave, it might prove impossible now. That responsibility added to the heavy weight on his shoulders.
Why had Herme brought him to Stacey’s doorstep upon arrival in Mesa? With news of the plane crash, Herme had returned to Greenland after telling Mick he’d return tomorrow to talk to them. He’d admitted to raping Stacey. Why hadn’t they charged him? His thoughts where interrupted when Mattie stepped through the front door onto the porch next to him.
“Take me home, Mick.” Home. At Mattie’s request, they’d been given a couples barrack unit on campus. His dreams of their first night together had been blown to smithereens just like the plane.
Mick nodded and rose. “How is she?” He used his chin to indicate the house.
Mattie sighed, her arms going around his waist, her cheek to the center of his chest. Mick groaned with the sensation of her in his arms and held her tightly. “The people on that plane were her friends. She took it pretty hard. I only met Jack and Mark on this mission. Mark … I didn’t really get a sense on him, other than that he was human and worked hard for Stacey. Jack … I liked him. He was a good warrior. Cassie had to make the call to both their families. I feel so bad for her.”
Mick couldn’t imagine having to notify next of kin. What an awful thing that must have been. With slow steps, they made their way across campus. Mattie led the way since Mick had yet to actually see where he and Mattie were to live. Gil had sent the bags he’d packed over, so at least his things would be there. “Is Hans staying with her tonight?”
Mattie met his gaze with a calculating glint in her beautiful, amber-colored eyes. “He’s trying to talk her into going with him to the temporary unit he’s been assigned. Cassie denies it, but I can tell they are in love, Mick. Have been for centuries. Though I never knew, I think my mother did.”
They approached a building four stories high. It resembled a human condominium, except for all of the perch landing platforms extended off the balconies. “I got us an apartment on the fourth floor.” She looked up into at a set of darkened windows. “Tellus usually live on the first and second floor since we can’t fly.” She shrugged innocently. “It has stairs, unless …”
Her non-subtle hint was obvious. Mattie loved to fly. He’d only been able to take her on limited excursions since he had to remain under the weaves at all times. Mick chuckled and removed his shirt, extending his wings. Mattie squealed happily and leapt against his chest, wrapping her arms and legs around him. Mick’s erection pounded hard surrounded by her curves, her tangy scent, and her joy at such a simple thing. “You planned an apartment to be charioted to, huh?” His voice fell to a husky tone.
“Absolutely.” She wiggled against him, unrepentant.
Mick took her lips in a fierce kiss. Mattie matched him nearly as aggressively in her desire for him. She had a playful side that fueled his passions like none other. With a few flaps he landed on the perch she’d indicated with her gaze. Willing the glass doors open with his kinetic energy, he strode into their home, clinging to her, his one calm in the emotional storm of his life.
Never breaking from her kiss heating his blood, he navigated the space with one eye open, dodging his belongings scattered around the space. Reaching the unmade bed, he threw the sheets and blankets stacked in the center off the mattress to the floor and settled his weight above the softness of the female he loved. Mattie’s nails scratched into his back over the flaps his wings had tucked into. Pleasure/pain had him hissing as he kissed across her check and neck. Tender was not on her agenda tonight. With a few quick moves, he destroyed yet another one of her outfits, shredding it from her body so he could gaze down upon the perfection of her. His clothes added to the pile of hers in short order.
Grasping her bent knees, he widened her spread, the glistening moisture of her sex declaring her readiness for him. She squirmed, her eyes pleading with him. His dente’s throbbed in his gums, yet when he took her nippl
e into his mouth, he focused on being gentle to the tender bud. Her skin was soft, fragile in its own way, yet more durable than any other species. She grasped two fistfuls of his hair, holding him to her breast an instant more before yanking his head free. Her gaze illuminated the dark like headlights, so bright it hurt Mick’s eyes to stare into them. Hands flat against his chest, she pushed him into a standing position as she rose from the bed.
Mick grinned; Mattie was in take-charge mode. She turned her cheek into his kiss. Mick knew the drill, loved the drill, relished it. “My liege, I am at your command.” He took to the role he knew she wanted instantly.
Mattie dropped her head to the curve of his neck, the heat of her breath along his pulse sent shivers through him. “Yes, you are.” She bit his shoulder, her blunt teeth barely breaking the skin. Mick growled low in his chest at the erotic sensation. Then she shoved him back away from her and turned with her feet on the floor, her elbows braced on the bed, presenting her ass to him in all its magnificence. “On your knees.”
Mick didn’t need to be told twice—he dropped to worship her core the way she liked. His tongue found the nub bundle of nerves at her sex. Her sweet/tart flavor tightened his sack with a need to release. Mattie moaned, arching her back to give him better access. He took her right to the edge before sinking his dentes into the tender folds, pinning her to his mouth and sending her into a shuddering orgasm.
The puncture location of his dentes released very little blood flow, though Tellus didn’t have a high enough iron level in their system to satisfy the needs of an anemic Volaticus anyway. Luckily for him, it also didn’t have enough to send his iron-rich chemistry into iron poisoning either. He rose behind her as she continued to writhe and plead with him for more. With a single thrust, he buried himself to the hilt. Her contracting inner walls quivered with a life of their own.
Mick braced her with his hands on the flair of her hips. “How, my liege?” His jaw clenched with the need he held, waiting for her command.
“Fiercely … own me, take me,” she cried out with abandon.
Mick complied, and the hard slaps as their bodies came together over and over echoed through the room like gunshots. It took everything he had to hold his release with a long, drawn-out growl. Mattie’s hips bucked under his firm hold. She cried out as her climax crested, gripping him, and Mick released with a growled roar. The force of it took the strength from his knees and he collapsed across her back, feeling her body tremble beneath him. Her panted breaths intermingled with his.
He shifted off her back, pulling her into his arms with her head cradled at the crook of his shoulder, running his hand through the silken mass of her hair. Mattie set her chin to his shoulder and met his gaze. Fates, she was glorious. Mick’s heart swelled in his chest, making it difficult to breathe. Her lips lifted in a sultry grin. “Mick?” The look in her eyes held a vulnerability he’d rarely seen from her. He couldn’t speak; she’d taken his breath away. He lifted a brow in response. “Do you … love me? I mean as … more than a friend?”
Tingling butterflies raced through his body. Didn’t she already know? Mick searched her expression. If he told her, would it ruin what they had, her arranged marriage, and her happiness? Mattie chewed her lip with apprehension, waiting for him to respond. Mick nodded. “You are the light of my life, Matalina. I love you with all that I am and all I will ever be.”
Her smile filled him with awe. She cupped his cheek in her hand. “I love you too. I should have told you sooner.”
Mick already feared Osiris would find out about Mattie and harm her. Yet he couldn’t help the happiness that bloomed inside. Mattie loved him.
****
Conlon watched Stacey’s stiff steps as she climbed his stairs. No doubt she sought some solitude. He wanted to follow her … but what could he say? “I fucked up and left your employees vulnerable?” He should have had a team come in to back Jack up on the return flight, but he’d been so focused on Stacey he hadn’t even considered Jack and Mark. If he were a better communicator, maybe he could consol her. Damn it. The look on her face tore him apart.
At a slower pace, he followed the scent of coconut through his house to his room. He pressed his palm to the door, bowed his head, and prayed to the Fates that he would be able to say the words she needed to hear, even though he had no idea what those words might be. Turning the knob, he looked around his bedroom. An enormous suitcase lay open on the floor next to a half dozen more that had yet to be unpacked. A light shone from the gap in the bathroom door. There was some sort of buzzing sound on the other side. He heard Stacey sniffle followed by a muffled grunt.
Conlon silently approached the door and peeked in. His breath left his lungs at the sight of her standing naked beside a large tub full of steaming water. She was directing her energy at the water the way Jess had shown her. A stream of blood ran down her right leg and pooled at her foot. A tattoo gun was gripped in her hand as she hunched over, etching detail into the scale of a large Koi fish tattoo. The fish’s head followed the top of her hip bone, while its back arced over the upper curve toward her butt, then wrapped forward again to the front of her thigh. The point of the new scale she labored at would still leave the fish incomplete. The scales above each had tiny scenes in them but the Koi didn’t yet have a tail.
He’d caught glimpses of the tattoo when he’d given her the massage earlier and when they’d … enjoyed those few minutes together.
The detail of Stacey’s grief-induced scale started to develop quickly, miniscule flames and a propeller. Like a memorial to the plane crash—Jack and Mark. The movement of her arm kept the other scales obscured. What other tributes had she depicted? A Koi symbolized courage, the ability to attain high goals and overcome life’s difficulties. Did her tattoo only represent the latter? Was it an inked reminder of her life’s difficulties?
Conlon pushed the door open. Stacey snapped her head up in surprise, followed quickly by anger. “Damn it, Conlon, you can’t just barge into my … world! Even if this is your house.” She used her hand to cover a large portion of her tattoo. Conlon could hear his low growl of frustration. Most female’s caught naked would attempt to cover their breasts or the apex of their thighs. Stacey’s main focus was hiding the fish and repelling him with harsh words.
Her eyes were dry but her chin quivered when they met his pleadingly. He couldn’t tell if she were pleading for him to go or stay. The words he’d prayed for eluded him. “I’m not going anywhere.” His feet took him to her and he dropped to his knees beside her. His face even with her tattoo, he peered up into her eyes. “Show me, Stacey.”
She gave out a long sigh, transferring her gaze to the ceiling. He could see her fortifying herself. Dawning realization hit him—this was her way of coping, probably the only way she had … and he’d interrupted it. “You have any art skill at all, Conlon Einar?” Her voice had that “I am invincible” tone. Normally he liked her strength, but right now he wished she’d just drop it and let him be there for her. Conlon shook his head. “Then let me finish what I’ve started. You can ogle it while I work.”
Leaning back on his heels, he did just that. Stacey gave him a single nod and went back to the task as if he weren’t in the room. The propeller/flame scale finished, she outlined a second one offsetting the first so it flowed naturally with the Koi body at thigh front and center. This one was filled in with an orange/yellow-shaded dorsal fin partially obstructed by an open book, the fin for Jack and the open book for Mark.
With an idea of her drawing style, he started to see the pattern. One scale represented the what, followed by scales that detailed the who. The face of the fish was mostly white and orange with a few spots of black. Simple, abrupt lines of detail that looked like a part of the general design became clear. It represented her happy childhood. The stick framing of a huge house made up the fine lines across the top of the head. Within those lines were linked rings, tiny hearts, ink pen and gavel, plus more that were too abstract for Conlon to be
sure of what they were. The overall feel was joy.
Then his gaze traveled to where the fish arced drastically along her upper hip line toward her buttocks; then the scales turned dark suddenly. The fine-lined house was displayed in detail. Inside the tiny windows were manifestations of terrorized people. Others showed crumpled bodies in different positions. One reflected a single dente dripping blood. Smoking guns, shackles, cages, and abstract faces emitting silent screams made vomit rise in Conlon’s throat. Her terror had been compounded by the way she’d been captured, forced to watch the people she’d loved be murdered for no reason except she was Hulven. Others were too abstract for him to decipher.
He was grateful that the horror faded somewhat as the arc softened and came around her thigh. The emotion remained dark, though it no longer had the torrential damage feel. The blacks had been replaced by grays, the dark reds and violent orange morphed to deep yellows and softer shades of orange. The rescue encompassed several of them. The depiction of a Tellus and an Aquatie at a partially opened, barred door gave him a sense of the gratitude she felt. There was a Volaticus wing with the upper face of a dark-haired male peering over his shoulder. Who was the male? he wondered, feeling misplaced jealousy at the thought. No question Stacey felt a measure of appreciation to whoever it was. How deep did her feelings for him go? And who was he?
The shades continued to lighten. The gavel and pen were again represented in darker hushed tones. A single white scale caught his attention. Johnny. It had a tiny teddy bear with blue/gray eyes. The cooling of the colors declared she’d found some degree of peace; seeing the dark horror of the plane crash felt cruel. Devastating. Like him, Stacey didn’t allow the true depth of her emotions to show. Maybe she never had, or maybe it had been learned from the trials she’d faced. Either way, her tattoo was her way of allowing herself to forget and remember in a manner she could deal with privately.
Fire's Touch (The Enlightened Species Book Three) Page 14