by JL Madore
Sharp pleasure raked across nerve endings too sensitive to bear. Her senses spun. Time and place dissolved, her breath coming in bursts of feminine cries.
“Come for me, Cass.” His demand vibrated against her core.
As if her body knew nothing but to follow his command, waves of sensation exploded though her system. Shattering from within, she gripped the marble edge of the buffet and held on while he sent her flying weightlessly out of her own body.
While her inner explosions ebbed and settled, he kissed her deep. Her mind stopped functioning. She was utterly unaware of her surroundings—
The room spun, and he set her on her feet. Tight to her back, he dragged his teeth against her neck and pinched her flesh. “Round two. Go.” The erotic sting of his palm to her backside brought back the reality of their game. “. . . two . . . three . . .”
Hell in a hand-basket, she had to get her feet working. Growing up in these rooms, surely, she could find somewhere sufficient to hide from him for thirty seconds. He was a trained hunter and had the advantage of tracking her by scent.
With that in mind, she raced in and out of several rooms, through adjoining bathrooms, and doubled back. Let him pinpoint her scent now.
She knew where to go. Her cousin, Rhys, had been a paranoid ass when he lived. He built a false panel in the back of his closet that connected to a hidden passage behind the walls . . . if she could only remember how to release the catch on the thing and get inside.
“Twenty-nine . . . thirty.”
Her fingers fumbled along the wooden trim, feeling for the finger latch. Kyrian was coming. He was taunting her from down the corridor, but definitely closing in. Click. The sound was almost inaudible but thundered in the deserted bedroom. Quick and careful, she slid the panel aside, stepped inside, and closed it all but a crack.
“Fourteen . . . fifteen . . .” He passed the doorway and continued up the hall.
She stifled the impulse to giggle. He wasn’t going to find her, and she knew exactly what to do for her reward. Kyrian held far more experience as a lover, but she wanted a chance to call the shots. She’d heard and seen things over the years that she’d wondered about. Things she never thought she’d have the nerve to try, but maybe . . ..
“Twenty-six.”
The counting stopped. Cassi peeked her head out and listened. Had someone knocked? There was no sound of voices. She eased out of her hiding place and padded across the room. He wasn’t in the hall.
“Kyrian? Is everything all right?” Her heart started beating fast as she walked the hall, peering in the rooms as she passed the open doors. She spotted him standing in her father’s study. He had his back to her and held something he’d found on the wall of shelves. Oh, sweet Prince.
“Kyrian, I’m sorry. My father—”
He turned to her, the Crystalline dagger belonging to the Watcher Tanek in his hand. He swept his wrist beneath his glassy eyes and blinked up at her. “This is a sick trophy, Cassi. Morbid, even for a demon.”
“I had no part in it. This is my father’s private study. Take the dagger back to Zander and your garrison, with my deepest condolences. I don’t want bad blood between Shedim and Nephilim. I thought we were past that.”
“I thought so too.” Kyrian stormed past her and back to the bedroom. He stomped his feet into his pants and yanked them up over his thighs. “But then it hit me in the face that you’re still the daughter of the man who chopped up my brother and ordered the slaughter of Austin. My brothers will never forgive that, and they will never forget it. I’m torn, Cassi.”
The easy comfort they’d developed over the past days dissolved faster than she thought possible. Cassi wasn’t sure how to get through to him. “I can’t change what happened. I’ve apologized. Take me to them, and I will apologize to them personally.”
Kyrian’s Mark glowed green. He clenched his jaw and shook his head. “You go nowhere near any of them. If they hurt you, I’d have to kill them and that wouldn’t solve anything. No, you stay here and I’m gonna go. Dougal can text me when you need to feed next. Maybe by the time I come back, we’ll have another solution.”
Cassi reached out as Kyrian sent his molecules flying. A split-second later, she stared at the empty space. She fell to her knees, rubbing what felt like a physical hole blown out of her chest. She couldn’t breathe. She thought she meant more to him—that he might even be falling in love with her.
Brushing a harsh hand across her cheeks, she forced herself to her feet. Stupid sap.
Devious stepped out of the portal on the castle roof and hustled down the back stairway. He hated leaving Thrash to come back to this forsaken place, but to everything there was a purpose. He met Force at the gate that lead to the mine tunnels and clapped his friend on the back. “Is everything in order?”
Force nodded, ducking into the shadows and leading the way to the off-site storage of Stryker’s red-metaled weapons. “We have everything ready for transport. It’ll take a few trips but there will be no trace by morning.”
“And the men? How many are with us?”
“Almost three-quarters of the hunters and a dozen of the soldiers. If Stryker’s Little Miss ever decides to show her face again, I think she’ll be surprised to find her forces so depleted.”
“She still hasn’t come out of her suite?”
Force shook his head. “There’s a betting pool. Some think that after the meeting in Purgatory, she lost what stomach she had for leadership and abandoned us. Others think she slit her own throat, and Dougal and his bitch are covering.”
“What do you think?”
Force shrugged. “I don’t give a fuck. She was never going to be my leader, so whatever happens, it’s no concern of mine.”
Devious smiled, anxious to see the men who were coming with him. “Stryker’s other daughter, Thrash, has a compound in the Human Realm. No Hell rains. No hounds to tear your throat out in your sleep. I’m telling you, my friend, it’s feasting, fighting, and fucking up there. A world ready for the taking, just like Stryker planned.”
Force nodded. “Then let’s not let him down.”
The Navigator tires crunched over pea-gravel as Zander parked the truck outside the racetrack clubhouse. He popped the door, jogged around, and helped Austin out of her side. Remarkable how things had changed from the first night he’d driven her in this truck three months ago. Cuffed and naked, she had fought him at every turn to assert her independence.
Now, she did as he asked. Tried, anyway.
Though, she preferred to make her own way in everything she did, he’d insisted that him opening her door was a necessary precaution to check the sightlines and secure the area before having her exposed to the world. While that was true, there was also an old-fashioned part of him that swelled with the honor of tending to his mate.
Ringo and Danel jostled out of the backseat with Stetson, and got themselves sorted. Ringo slid Stetson’s harness over the dog’s head and brought the pup to Austin’s side. “Z, are you good if I hang with D while he gets his checkup?”
Zander gave the kid a knuckle bump. “Yeah. You’re good to go, buddy.”
In no big rush, he watched the kid beat feet to catch up with Danel. Though all Nephilim considered each other brothers, those two shared a sire and were blooded brothers—like he was with Seth and Phoenix. That made the unspoken bond tight. Which was good. D needed a positive distraction right now.
“Danel’s gait is off,” Austin said, listening to the boots to stone. “Is he limping?”
Zander shifted his gaze. “Maybe a little. Could him stuffing his injured arm in his slicker have something to do with it?”
“Is that what he’s doing?”
“He keeps that stump hidden, more often than not at home . . . and always when he’s out and about.”
“Well, he’s twisting his gait, and I’d bet now his arm isn’t the only thing aching. What are the odds that I can get him onto my massage table?”
Zander sn
orted. “Probably as good as getting Seth to embrace celibacy.”
Austin chuckled and tilted her head back. The full moon washed out her complexion as she inhaled the night air. “We’ll have to get blankets for the horses. I hadn’t thought of snow coming. I should have ordered some.”
“There’s time, love.” Zander’s beast paced within him, anxious to get his beloved inside. For the first time in his miserable existence, planning for the future filled his heart to bursting. He wouldn’t be rushed.
“I can’t wait for you to meet your horse. He’s the brother to Kyrian’s, but more stubborn. I thought that was fitting.”
After thanking Lady Divinity for this, and every moment with his mate, Zander pulled Austin to his chest and claimed her mouth. He hated that the bulk of her fall coat kept her from him, but her body swayed against his, her lips warm, her hands soft against the hard lines of his cheeks.
He almost screwed this up. Too jacked up with dominant shit, he’d failed to do right by her. Well, he’d taken his knocks and wouldn’t make the same mistakes again.
Austin above all else. That was his new mantra.
She was his love. His life. His everything.
“That was nice,” Austin said, a breathless catch in her voice. “You okay, angelman?”
He nodded. “Perfect, and thank you for my horse. We’ll go to the stables in a little bit, but first, Kyrian is meeting us in the clubhouse. I have a gift for you too.”
Gentle pressure on her elbow guided her to the main entrance of the jockey clubhouse. He loved how they’d grown to move in stride, her sightlessness in the human world a non-issue. “Three steps up, cowgirl.”
The double doors were wide and wood, just like the ones at the stables and in the clinic. Inside the front entrance, he looked around and wondered if Kyrian had lost his mind. Closed down almost fourteen years ago, the racetrack and all the outbuildings had fallen into terrible disrepair.
“Great, you’re here.” In ripped jeans and wearing the evidence of his labors, Kyrian joined them in the front entrance. Zander cursed to himself. No amount of plaster and sawdust would mask that the guy looked like death warmed over. “Let me give you both the grand tour.”
Austin offered him her cheek for a kiss and smiled. “Tour of what, boys? What are you two up to?”
Zander tabled thoughts of Kyrian’s situation and smiled. “In those hours I sat in the hall, while you refused to see me or speak to me, I reflected on a great many things. I vowed to do better—with you, with Kyrian, and with our lives.”
Austin’s smile dropped. “You’re doing fine, angelman. What’s done is done. We’re looking forward, remember?”
And thank the heavens for that. “Exactly, so, in the spirit of moving forward, I thought we needed a home—a real home—one where our daughter can run, and Stetson can stretch his legs, and we can be close to the clinic if we’re needed.”
Austin’s hazels glassed over right on cue and he knuckle bumped his brother. Nailed it. “I thought you’d rather raise our baby girl in a private country setting rather than living over a hedonist club. It’s still in the middle of the city, but we’ve got eighty-two acres.”
Fat tears brimmed and rolled, her chin quivering as she swallowed. “Do you mean it? We’re going to live here? All of us? Kyrian too?”
Kyrian slung a heavy arm across her shoulders and kissed the side of her head. “There’s no keeping me away, sweetheart. Technically, I own the place.”
Austin laughed, and Zander handed her a handkerchief. “Kyrian is family. My beast may have lost sight of that, but it’s crystal now. The only threat he poses to us is breaking your heart if he can’t be near you. I get that.”
She lunged and was in his arms, squeezing her arms around his neck until he needed oxygen. He let her squeeze. He’d rather pass out that have her ease off.
“I love you, Zandros of Kish. I love you huge.”
He fought the sting behind his eyes and blinked fast. “I’m no good with designer shit, so it’s you and the Greek all the way. You two make this place everything you’ve dreamed of, ’kay? No expense spared. No holds barred.”
When Austin peeled off his chest and linked her arm with Kyrian, he was surprised at how calm his beast remained. When the two of them sauntered off, heading to the glass wall, which looked out onto the abandoned racetrack and the viewing stadium beyond—his beast stayed cool.
This was good. He could do this. They could do this.
The malevolence of the Darkworld revolt was gaining strength, aiming to plunge the human world into darkness. Austin tried not to worry, trusted that he and his men would rise to victory—good triumphing evil, and all that—but being a powerless observer sucked. She couldn’t sit in an empty loft hoping the world would right itself and magically become a safe place to raise their daughter.
He might be thick as an oak, but he wasn’t stupid. Like Phoenix had said, Austin needed to live. Needed to shine so that her light could illuminate him when things were bleak. Who was he kidding. The woman illuminated all of them.
Kyrian deserved that too. Deserved it more, actually.
The Greek may have mated the enemy, but if Lady Divinity thought the Shedim Master was Kyrian’s other half, he would try to figure that shit out. As long as she wasn’t following in her father’s footsteps, with the war and the off menu killing, he’d make it work. He owed Kyrian that much.
He owed him everything.
Zander pulled out his phone and ensured Austin and Kyrian were deep in conversation. When the voice on the other end spoke up, he bit the bullet. “Drake, this is Zandros of Kish. We need to meet.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The buzz in Cassiane’s head roared louder by the day. When she’d first emerged from her brush with death, she’d woken exhausted but steady. Her body was strong, her thoughts hyper-focused on the warrior tending to her. She tried not to think about Kyrian, though the trying was pointless. The two days they’d spent together was all she thought about, whether awake or in her sleep. But he’d gone.
She didn’t blame him for being upset when he’d found Tanek’s dagger on display in the study. She didn’t even blame him for leaving and putting some space between them. She did, however, blame him for not coming back. He’d gone. Vanished right in front of her, and what . . . that was the end of that?
It shouldn’t matter . . . but it did.
The hopelessness in his expression when he’d left haunted her. The fact that his expression haunted her, infuriated her. Was this all manipulation? Some ploy to make her pay for her father starting the uprising? Was it her specifically, meant to suffer, or all Shedim?
Well, they were suffering. All the seasoned hunters had abandoned them and taken many of the fiercest soldiers with them. Instead of playing house with Kyrian, she should have gotten straight back to her people the moment she was on her feet. Shown them she was strong, and they could trust her.
“I know many of Stryker’s ways are distasteful to you, Mistress,” Dougal said, looking up from the schedules spread across her desk, “but the food stores are dangerously low, and the citizens are famished. I don’t see any other way than to proceed with the mass harvest. If you don’t, you run the risk of your people turning against you.”
She rubbed the ache in her chest. A mass harvest put them in direct violation with the Otherworld laws. In direct conflict with Kyrian and his warrior brothers. But with no other alternatives, Devious would turn the Shedim against her.
“The citizens starve because my father, Stryker, Master of Shedim, sacrificed a storage facility that would have kept everyone fed for months, maybe the better part of a year.”
“I’m sorry, Mistress. I had no knowledge of what he and Devious were up to. Perhaps if I had—”
She held up her hand. “I hold you in no way responsible, Dougal. It’s just so disheartening to learn that my hero, the father I looked up to my entire life, wasn’t the man I thought.”
“He was th
at man too. Try not to forget that.”
“Yes, he was, and another man completely. He captured and killed a Cherub, the Watcher, Tanek, and the innocent human wife of the Sumerian. He sired another daughter and hid an entire life I knew nothing about.”
Dougal folded his hands together and thumbed his hunter’s ring. “For good or ill, Stryker loved you and his people with passionate devotion. He believed that the Shedim deserved a better life. His methods seem extreme—”
“Extreme? He incited a revolt that spread throughout the entire Darkworld. If I choose not to participate, I’m weak, yet I have no soldier to spare for a war. If I take up his mantel, I leave the citizens of the castle undefended, and forfeit what little life they have now. Stryker angered the archangels, for Hell’s sake. The Seven rose against his army and cut them down. What chance have we in succeeding with his plans?”
Dougal leaned back, and his chair creaked in protest. “You have been left in a terrible position, Mistress, I don’t deny that, but if we don’t proceed with the mass harvest, there won’t be anyone left for you to fight for.”
She stared at the resources sitting before them. They had money. They had diamonds. What they didn’t have was food. They needed enough fresh organs to feed almost two hundred people. She emptied her wine glass and let the blood-infused mixture warm her insides.
“Mistress?” Sabine said, peeking around the corner. “I hate to disturb you, but you asked to be informed if any of the children fell ill. I’m afraid we’ve lost another.”
Cassiane set her goblet down and steeled herself for what came next. “Who?”
“Lyssa.”
Cassiane closed her eyes against the sting of tears. It didn’t lessen her grief. The loss of her subjects hit her the same, each and every time . . . but Lyssa was so young. Maybe Kyrian should have let her feed from him when he’d caught her in the courtyard. She died anyway.