Stripped Away: Shadow Destroyers Book 2

by Sydney Somers

  Braxton shook his head to get away from the train of thought that had been grating him up inside. Even if either of them had wanted more than just sex, his job demanded his complete focus. And whenever Quinn got too close, his focus went right out the window.

  Not that any of that ultimately mattered. Not when Quinn had awakened the morning after her infection determined to make sure she hadn’t come on to him. Although she’d managed to keep the thin veil of panic from showing on her face or in her voice when she’d asked if anything happened, it had all but dominated the few strands of psychic energy that surrounded her.

  He’d run through the scenario dozens of times before she’d emerged that morning only to have all his arguments against getting involved dissolve at seeing her sleepy and confused face. For half a second he’d even foolishly contemplated giving things a shot—right up until she’d looked as though she’d be mortified to know something had happened between them.

  Denying that one of the most incredible nights of his life had happened took considerable more effort than he’d anticipated, but he couldn’t risk telling her the truth and having to see the regret in her eyes every time she looked at him. Regardless that he’d thought there had been a mutual attraction between them for months, the infection had affected her far more than he’d wanted to believe at the time. Now he felt like an even bigger bastard for taking advantage of her that night.

  Resigned to things being the way they were, he still cared and he couldn’t stop wondering what had snapped inside her when the elevator shut down. It was the same as when she woke with the restraints on her weeks ago. The same irrational panic that he never would have expected from Quinn.

  “Perhaps we should pick this up another time,” Royce Garrison, therapist extraordinaire, suggested. With his shiny graying brown hair, dark deep-set eyes and pursed mouth, he reminded Braxton of the first cousin to the weasel. The slim build and 5’5” height didn’t help either. Nor did the man’s choice of clothes. No one working for the network was struggling financially. Yet the man still wore clothes that looked like he shopped in the junior boys section. Braxton couldn’t look at Royce without hearing Quinn’s past jokes about the therapist looking like he was waiting for a flood with his too-short pants.

  “No.” Braxton wasn’t interested in coming back to stare at the same drab walls painted in vomit orange and pretend he was fine with Royce, who was also a telepath, trying to read him. He was far more comfortable sifting through another person’s thoughts than being pinned under the microscope himself.

  “How’s work in general lately?”

  “Lots of demons. Lots of paperwork. Pots full of stale coffee. The usual.”

  “No more stress than usual?”

  Braxton cocked his head. “Not really.” Not unless he counted Quinn, and seeing as how he made it a point not to bring her up—ever—things were just fine.

  “I know there’s been increasing concern over the possibility of moles in the network.”

  With a shrug, he glanced at his watch. “They pay Rae to worry about those details.” Another exaggeration. Until recent months Shadow Demons either hadn’t paid attention to or hadn’t cared about Destroyers. That was probably because as soon as a demon crossed paths with a Shadow Destroyer, its ass was toast. According to their database more and more demons were aware of their oldest enemy and now knew information no one outside the network had access to.

  With a small handful of Scions in hiding, none of the field offices, especially those in set locations near hot zones, liked knowing the bad guys were getting a little too technologically advanced for comfort. After a human had aligned herself with a Scion and had gone after Jordan and Gage, more intel had started emerging that linked human accomplices to sacrifices and the general discord trudged up by Shadow Demons wherever they went.

  As if the supernatural bastards weren’t enough to handle. Now every agent had to look over their shoulder, never knowing if a knife from the average human could be coming. He was thankful he trusted his own team. It was only when they crossed paths with agents from other field offices that he kept his guard up. More than a few people who carried the gene absorbed too much of the demon’s essence and wound up with a much darker side as a result. A side that ultimately couldn’t be trusted.

  By some small miracle, the remaining twenty minutes left in the session flew by and Braxton exited with a speed he was sure Quinn and Drew could appreciate. He liked coming home after assignments as much as any of them, but he wasn’t fond of the required follow-up chats with Royce.

  “So you survived another one-on-one with the good doctor, huh?”

  “It was a ball,” Braxton answered blandly. He couldn’t decide whether to head straight to the briefing room or look for Quinn.

  Gage took a drink from the stainless silver mug he carried. “He ask you about the mole angle too?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Think Rae put him up to that?”

  “Probably.” Rae liked knowing her agents’ states of mind whenever possible, along with anything else worth knowing. Hell, she’d probably known within seconds that he and Quinn had been trapped in the elevator.

  The fact that Quinn entered his mind again for the dozenth time in the last hour wasn’t unusual. Which was exactly why he’d fallen into the habit of steering clear of her. It was also why Braxton found himself falling into step with Gage as he headed toward the training room.

  His encounter with Quinn continued to occupy his thoughts. He couldn’t stop from wondering if he might have picked up on what had triggered both panic attacks if he hadn’t been so determined to forget the feel of her legs locked around his waist as he found the sweetest of release buried deep inside her.

  “You sure you didn’t leave your head in Mexico?”

  He glanced at Gage. “Sorry?”

  “You’re as weird as Quinn this morning. What happened in the elevator anyway?”

  “She told you about that?” Braxton asked, avoiding Gage’s question.

  “I heard bits and pieces a few minutes ago when she was tossing Jordan to the floor.”

  He arched a brow. “She got the drop on Jordan this time, did she?”

  Gage scowled. “Yeah, and do you know what that means?”

  Braxton couldn’t have held back his smile for all the demons on the continent.

  “It means she’ll be looking to drag my ass out on the training floor later today. Happens every goddamn time Quinn gets one in.”

  At the mention of the two women, he and Gage stopped and peered through the glass doors to the training room. It wasn’t surprising to see Drew parked on the bench across from the two women circling each other.

  No weapons littered the floor. Just plain old hand-to-hand for the two agents today. Quinn had pulled her hair back from her face and her eyes glittered with determination. She was fast, but Jordan bounced back faster from anything Quinn threw at her. The two made a regular habit of taking a spin on the training room mat.

  Not so long ago he and Quinn had had the same habit. Before he ignored his common sense and let his cock lead him. Their professional relationship had suffered for it, and she couldn’t even recall what had taken place between them. Had she known it all, he imagined things would be even more strained between them. Most days he felt bad enough for letting temptation get the best of him. He didn’t need her reminding him he was slime for taking advantage of her. Not that he didn’t deserve it. He probably deserved worse.

  “You sure things are cool between you two?” Gage asked with a practiced edge of disinterest. Gage had been asking that question a lot lately.

  “They’re fine.”

  “Jordan thinks you two should sleep with each other and get it over with.”

  If Braxton had been drinking coffee at that moment, he would have sputtered it all over the floor. “What?”

  “She thinks you guys have too much sexual tension simmering between you two.”

  “Good for Jordan.”
>
  “Is she right?”

  “Quinn and I work together. That’s it.” Braxton somehow managed not to crack his pinched jaw to get the words out.

  “You’re not doing yourself any favors by ignoring the bad vibes between you two.”

  “Bad vibes?” Brax rocked back on his heels. “I thought it was simmering sexual tension?”

  Gage leaned against the wall. “Jordan said there was sexual tension. All I see is that things have gone from occasionally annoying with you two to borderline dislike. It was bad enough having you two squabbling in my ear. I think the silence is even more deafening.”

  “You’re complaining because we’re not arguing enough for you?”

  “I just want to know why you guys went from driving each other up the wall to avoiding each other.”

  “I don’t avoid her.”

  Gage snorted. “It’s too bad your nose doesn’t grow a few inches when you spout that kind of bullshit.”

  The glass door was wrenched open. “One of you guys needs to take over. She’s killing me today.” Jordan planted her hands on her knees, her breathing labored. A dark bruise marred her cheek, and Braxton knew the mark wouldn’t even be there in another hour or so.

  Gage was already halfway down the hall.

  Jordan grinned at him. “I guess you’re my man.”

  He nodded to Drew. “I think you have another suitable replacement right there.”

  She straightened and blew out an impatient breath. “To quote Drew, ‘even I’m not in need of that kind of ass kickin’ today’.”

  He looked past Jordan and watched Quinn prowl the edge of the mats, clenching and unclenching a fist at her side. She lifted her head, and the anger in her gaze surprised him. As usual, any attempt to get beneath the barrier that shielded her thoughts got him nowhere.

  “That’ll just piss her off further,” Jordan said, guessing what he was up to. “But hey, your funeral.”

  Quinn disappeared through the swinging doors that led to the locker room.

  “I guess she’s letting you off the hook.”

  Jordan swatted at a damp clump of blond hair that stuck to her neck. “Guess I won’t be getting out of her what got her so worked up.” She passed a critical gaze over Braxton.

  He didn’t know whose perceptive looks were more annoying, hers or Gage’s.

  “Something’s going on with her,” Jordan spoke clearly in his mind.

  Having her open her thoughts put Braxton on guard for two reasons. One, she was only doing it so Quinn couldn’t eavesdrop even a little. And two, because the look on her face told her she expected him to do something about it.

  He shook his head. “She hasn’t said anything to me.”

  “Why would she, you’re hardly talking to her these days.”

  “Did she mention that?” He watched the locker room doors waiting for Quinn to reappear.

  “Like someone needs to point it out.”

  He stared at her expectantly.

  “You’re the only one who stands a hope in hell of dragging it out of her.”

  He cocked a brow. “She’s far more likely to open up to you.”

  “I don’t think she’s going to willingly open up to anyone.”

  Her implication was crystal clear. Find out the cheating way. Easier said than done with Quinn. “You’ll come up with something,” Jordan added with a wink and vanished back into the training room.

  Braxton scrubbed a hand over his face wondering exactly how many times Quinn had panicked in the last few months that he didn’t know about, and exactly what it would take to get her to open up about it.

  Chapter Two

  Quinn was the last one to file into the conference room, taking her time to keep the weight off her ankle. An hour later and it still burned like a bitch after landing the wrong way during her and Jordan’s sparring match. The second she stepped through the door, she felt Braxton’s gaze follow her like a heat-seeking missile.

  She met his intense expression dead-on knowing he wanted a peek at her thoughts. Badly. With a roll of her eyes, she dismissed his half-hearted attempt and deliberately sat at the far end of the table. With Drew in between them, and Gage and Jordan seated on the opposite side the table, there were plenty of other places he could focus his attention.

  His eyes never wavered from her. Once upon a time such a look would have meant one of two things. He was in disapproval mode and she’d pulled something he felt lacked serious judgment, or he needed someone to take his frustrations out on.

  Today it was different. Or maybe they were just different. Did it really matter? With each passing second the lengthy stare only made her think of the concern she’d read in his eyes when they were in the elevator together.

  She turned her head and caught the corner of his mouth twitching. She narrowed her eyes. Damn. He’d gotten a little glimmer.

  The devilish half grin he shot her—one she still found incredibly appealing—confirmed it. This morning had clearly thrown her for a loop. Even the sparring match hadn’t erased the nervous energy that hummed inside her. She needed a Shadow Demon. Someone who wouldn’t hold anything back, would go for the kill.

  Quinn tried ignoring Braxton and focused her attention on Rae, who stood at the head of the table, her attention fixed on her laptop. It was hard to remember that their boss had three times the demon slaying record of any of them. Everything from Rae’s pristine beige suit, tan pumps that made Quinn’s feet hurt to look at, perfectly manicured nails and stylish French twist holding back her red hair gave the impression she was a boardroom shark. Not a woman whose custom sword collection—every one of them having severed a demon’s head at least once—would make the fiercest collector envious.

  Beside her Drew laid his head back and closed his eyes, his face tilted towards the ceiling. “Wake me when we get to the good part.”

  “What part would that be, Mr. Reid?”

  Drew straightened, but the dimple in his cheek flashed as he glanced at Rae. “The part where the meeting’s over and I can get some sleep.”

  “Rough night?” Rae crossed her arms. “I’m sorry we’re keeping you from your eye mask and bubbling brook bedtime CD.”

  “It helps me relax,” Drew said. “Plus chicks dig the music. Makes them think I’m the sensitive type.”

  “Now that you’ve enlightened us to your methods of nailing a chick, could we get back to the point of the meeting or perhaps you’d rather take a cat nap in the private quarters?”

  Drew’s brow furrowed, no doubt trying to figure out if she might actually be serious.

  Rae continued with a wave around the room. “I’m sure someone else could bring you up to speed on the progress regarding the moles in the network and the recent Scion threats. I’d hate to interfere with your beauty sleep.”

  “He’d need to be in a coma for years to make any improvement.”

  Drew shot Jordan a wounded look. Jordan grinned right back at him.

  “Anyone else have anything to get off their chest? Any other tried and true dating tips I should make note of?” She looked pointedly at Drew but addressed them as a group.

  Like elementary school kids caught talking too loud when the teacher left the room, they all suddenly found their notes rather interesting.

  Rae perched a hip on the edge of the table and pinned her glacier blue gaze squarely on Quinn. “Heard you two had a bumpy ride in the elevator this morning?”

  “Just an inconvenience,” she lied smoothly. But she was so taking the stairs down on the way out of here today.

  Braxton’s gaze all but ate through the back of her head.

  Rae nodded at Braxton as if to find confirmation of what Quinn said.

  “Not scary enough to make me take the stairs.”

  Quinn snapped her head in his direction. The granite look on his face slid carefully into place, but not before she caught the trace of worry in his eyes.

  “Let’s get this over with. Given the increased rates of temporal
distortions opening more gateways, I’ve got new assignments for everyone.”

  Normally any assignment was an opportunity to see some part of the world Quinn likely hadn’t been to before, while getting to slay a few demons at the same time. But after the elevator ride this morning, she just wanted to go home and get her head on straight. Braxton was slipping in under the radar when normally the most subtle probe got shot down the second he pushed too hard to read her mind.

  The worst part was, he wasn’t the least bit apologetic about his gift, not that she could judge him. She used her heightened senses and speed in situations that had nothing to do with slaying the enemy and didn’t ever regret it. More often than not, she got a kick out of it, especially when it had involved pissing Braxton off. That didn’t mean she had to like it when the shoe was on the other foot.

  With a glare that set his mouth twitching again, she faced forward in her chair. Twice this morning he’d smiled at her. How long had it been since that happened last? Weeks probably. Maybe it was part of some new therapy assignment Royce occasionally tried to get them to work on.

  Quinn nearly groaned aloud. She still had her appointment with the head doctor before she was getting out of here today.

  “New safeguards have been implemented in the system to keep the enemy out,” Rae continued. “Since it is still unclear how much human influence is at work here and how many demons—or worse, Scions—are getting more hands-on with the technology, we can’t discount the possibility that darker magiks could make tracing the bastards harder.”

  “No success yet?” Braxton asked.

  “Only a few leads from a handful of the other field offices, but nothing solid so far.”

  Ever since Jordan’s brush with a human cooperating with a group of Shadow Demons in a chain of sacrifices, there were increasing reports of human involvement with demons. The bastards were getting trickier, using any and all methods to stay in this realm as long as they could.