Shadowed Blade (Colbana Files Book 6)

by J. C. Daniels

  Instead of looking at Nova, I moved over to Chang, grabbing a towel from the small bar set up near the table. “Here.”

  He swiped it over his face, his eyes coming to meet mine for a brief moment. “How many times did his mother try to kill him?”

  “You don’t want to know,” I said quietly.

  The door closed behind Chang and Nova with utter silence.

  To me, it felt like it dropped with the force of an atomic bomb.

  Damon was still on the far side of the room from me, near the table, while I was closer to the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and the gas fireplace. A shiver raced down my spine when he remained quiet, his gray eyes on the table instead of moving in my direction.

  Arms crossed over my chest, I watched as he took a step closer to the table and reached out, nudged one of the casings of the rounds I’d shot earlier. He did it again, sent it spinning. It spun and spun in dizzying circles and then, abruptly, he scooped it up and started to toss it up in the air, catching it before deftly tossing it in the air again.

  “You sure as hell know how to make sure I’m paying attention when you got something to say, don’t you, Kit?” he asked, voice as soft and smooth as silk.

  “Can you think of anything else I could have done to make sure you actually were paying attention?” I knew this was going to get heated and fast. I’d known it the minute I’d taken the actions that put us where we were now. And if I had to do it all over? I’d probably do the same damn thing.

  “Well, you kind of got me there.” He nodded slowly, eyes still on the casing he was tossing so lazily up in the air. Up. Down. Up. Down. “Man comes into the place I swore I’d protect—with my life, if I had to. And he’s standing next to the woman I’d give my soul to protect…and I’d do that willingly. A dozen times over. My brain’s locked on one thing, and one thing only. You know that.”

  A few taut seconds of silence passed, broken only by the ever-so-faint sound of the casing striking his palm, then being thrown back up into the air. I think I could hear the subtle sound of his breathing. It was steady and easy. I could hear his heart beating. That was anything but easy. Anything but steady.

  My palms grew slick with sweat as he turned his eyes my way.

  “I think you were put on this earth for one reason only, baby girl. You know what that is?”

  I didn’t even have the air to offer some smart-ass quip at this point. I had the strangest feeling that I needed to brace myself, but for what?

  “You were put here to drive me to the breaking point.”

  He threw the casing up.

  By the time it came down, he was already all the way across the room, merely a breath away from me.

  “Guess what?” he whispered, his lips so close, I could already feel them on mine. “I think I just went over.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Shoving my hands up, I braced them against his chest, which rose rapidly under my hands. He was hot, burning like a furnace. Burning like the fires that had chased Justin and me through what felt like half the south.

  I wouldn’t escape this inferno, though.

  I didn’t want to, but at the same time, I was more than a little terrified.

  “In two hours, I’m supposed to meet Nova so we can start tracking down Justin and Colleen.” My voice came out a lot steadier than I would have thought.

  Damon reached up, closing his hands around my wrists and dragging them up. The room spun around us and I ended up with my back against the nearest wall, with him wedged between my thighs.

  “Don’t worry. I know what you have to do,” he whispered against my ear. “But do you really think you can do something like…” My shirt ripped. No…shredded was more like it, and I felt the grazing of his claws against my skin—there one moment, gone the next. His fingers slid down, tugged at my belt, freeing the holster that had held the Glock in place. “Put a fucking gun to your chin and squeeze the trigger in front of me and then walk away so easily? I’m not some tame house cat, baby girl.”

  His mouth closed over mine and I shuddered, lost under a wave of sensation and the sheer, overwhelming possession. Not just in his kiss. Not just in his hands as he went about stripping me naked—removing every blade, every weapon, every stitch of clothing.

  It was everything.

  All my clothes were gone and he stood fully dressed in front of me, one knee pressed between my thighs. Damon pulled away, his eyes holding mine. One hand slid up from my waist, along my torso, lingering on the ache there. No bruises remained, no sign of the busted ribs that had pained me for days. But he knew. Somehow he knew.

  He continued on his path, straight up to my throat and then he rubbed his thumb over where I’d pointed the gun. I hadn’t touched the muzzle to my skin—I wasn’t stupid—and Nova had needed time and room to maneuver.

  “If you ever do something like that again, Kit…” He raked his teeth along my neck. “So help me God. Just put the bullet in me. I’d sooner die than feel that kind of fear.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He boosted me up, one arm holding me steady while he reached between us and tore open his jeans.

  He came into me hard and fast and I cried out, unprepared.

  “Swear to me,” he said, fisting one hand in my hair and forcing my eyes to meet his. He withdrew, thrust deeper.

  Impaled on him while the gray of his eyes was slowly replaced by the intent burning green-gold of the cat inside him, I stared. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. This was how prey felt, I realized. When a big cat is stalking some cute, harmless little thing and looks up, realizing the predator is about to strike and it just freezes…this is why.

  Damon had me in his sights and I was done for.

  “Swear it,” he said again, lunging deeper.

  Whimpering, I strained closer, my nails clawing at his shoulders. I opened my mouth to answer, but no words came out.

  Damon swore and pulled away.

  I would have protested, except I couldn’t make my mouth form the words.

  Everything turned into a blur of heat and motion as he picked me up and carried me over to the bed. He didn’t lay me down, though. He bent me over me the side of it and drove into me from behind, pulling me upright so I was pressed against him. His teeth sank into my shoulder and I gasped at the feel of his teeth invading me, the same way his cock did.

  He swelled inside me and I felt his desperation, the fear.

  Ragged breaths and moans fell from my lips as he drove us straight over the edge, but that desperation still didn’t let up.

  My shoulder was throbbing when he lifted his head. Wicked, teasing fingers slid between my thighs, seeking out my clitoris as he pressed his lips to my ear. “Swear to me, Kit,” Damon demanded, his voice caught between a purr and a growl. “Tell me you’ll never do that me again.”

  “I won’t.” The words tripped out of me this time, shaky and broken, rising on a sharp note as he rubbed me harder and sent me shuddering into orgasm.

  It was hard and intense and he followed, his hips pumping against mine while one hand gripped me with bruising force. I sagged against him, too drained to even move.

  When he let me go, I might have collapsed right there if he hadn’t caught me.

  He did, though.

  He caught me, boosted me onto the bed and turned me around, spreading me out onto the thick, downy mattress.

  Then he crawled up my body, cupped my face and pushed inside me.

  “Again.”

  The shower pounded down on my body. Hands against the wall, face downcast, I tried not to shudder at the pelting spray. Every nerve in my body felt scraped raw and exposed. Even the water felt like it was too much.

  When the door opened, I closed my eyes, barely suppressing the urge to jolt at the sound.

  Over the water, I could hear him undressing and when the shower doors opened, I let my lashes lift, holding still as he stepped inside.

  His hands moved to my hips and he tugged me back agai
nst him.

  “Do I need to apologize?” His lips barely moved as he pressed them to the still throbbing bite mark on my shoulder.

  “Did I sound like I wasn’t enjoying myself?” Really, though, enjoying was such a tame word for what had taken place over the past hour.

  I enjoyed sundaes and chocolate and tea and a good book.

  He’d pretty much just consumed me. I don’t think enjoy was the proper term for what had happened.

  There might not be a proper word.

  Damon rested a hand on my belly and curved his other arm around me, tucking me tight against him. “I think you could have shot me and had less impact, Kit.”

  “I wasn’t going for less impact, you hardheaded son of a bitch.” Sighing, I turned in the circle of his arms. Needing some space, I eased back and rested against the wall of the shower. “You can’t possibly understand the damage you would have done—not just to yourself or the clan—but to a lot of things—if you had kept pushing it.”

  His jaw tightened.

  “You know why Nova goes by that name?”

  “I’m taking his mother didn’t name him that.” He flicked a damp strand of hair back from my face.

  “No. He actually doesn’t remember what his birth name is. She called him her little monster until it stopped being amusing for her.” As much as I hated my grandmother, at least she hadn’t made me into a monster. Nova’s mother had done her best to try. It was a miracle she hadn’t succeeded. “She tortured him, did her best to try and make him into her little pet and when that didn’t work, she tried to kill him over and over again.”

  Damon’s jaw went tight but he said nothing.

  “He goes by Nova because of something he started to figure out when he was fifteen or sixteen—he’s always had dreams, premonitions, really. It’s about how he’s going to die, and there’s no doubt, no mistake in his mind. He’s going to die in a big, fiery spectacle—like a sun exploding…a supernova. He explained it to Justin once that he’d be going out in a blaze of glory, and taking a few fine fuckers who just needed to die.”

  “Is that supposed to scare me?” Damon asked, his voice sardonic.

  “No. But maybe the fact that anybody who tries to kill Nova and gets even close to it ends up dead, no matter what Nova does to avoid it. I’ve seen it happen.” The skepticism on his face made me want to shove him. “Again, I’ve seen it happen. We were sitting at a bar one night after a job. Group comes in to hold the place up and somebody pulls a gun on Nova, holds it at the back of his head. Jumpiest thing ever. Nova told him he’d be wise to point it elsewhere and the kid tells him he’s lucky he doesn’t it shove it up Nova’s ass. Nova just sighed and shook his head and was ignoring him, never even looked at him. When they start making everybody empty their pockets, we were still just sitting there—we weren’t going to give our money to some idiot human hoodlums. Nova laughed at the guy who came to our table and the kid behind us started screaming. Nova went to take a drink of his beer and the kid panicked, squeezed the trigger. Nova didn’t plan on doing anything—he knew it was a kid. But his power—it works subconsciously to protect him and it kicked in, reversed the bullet. He was only fifteen. It tore Nova apart.”

  I shoved him now, angry. “And you were going to send Doyle in there as a distraction? You want to know why in the hell I felt it was necessary to do something crazy?”

  I shoved him again and he let me. But I went to do it again, he just caught me up against him and held me.

  “You stupid son of a bitch. Why didn’t anybody tell me he was looking for me?” I demanded, my face pressed against his chest.

  “Scott’s finding that answer out, kitten.” Damon sounded tired now and we both just stood there under the water.

  “You all don’t understand what you’re dealing with. He could have killed whoever was at the door and a hundred others without blinking.”

  Damon stroked a hand up my back, not responding.

  Pushing back, I stared up at him, still torn inside over the fury and the fear. And heaven help me…resentment. “Is this my home?”

  “It is.” Water caught on his eyebrows, beaded there before rolling down the hard, square lines of his cheekbones.

  “Then your people need to understand that I deserve the same respect they get—when I have somebody come looking for me, I get to decide if they get turned away. Not some shifter I don’t know from Adam.”

  “Consider it done, Kit.” He cupped my face, staring into my eyes, a grim promise written in his own.

  As it turned out, his name was Adam.

  The shifter who’d been assigned to stand guard at the Lair’s entrance stood in front of us, looking insolently at me as I finished strapping my weapons into place.

  I already wanted to punch him.

  That wouldn’t do much good—it would just break my hand and amuse him, or piss him off. Okay, then I’d cut him with something silver and sharp. He was only a midlevel shifter. His power wasn’t anything to write home about. He was just a grunt. Grunts, I could handle.

  Damon wasn’t here yet.

  I wondered if that was by design.

  I had fifteen minutes left before Nova was going to arrive. He’d called to change plans, and so I’d spent the last thirty minutes packing up gear and making calls.

  There was a knock at the door and Adam turned to answer it.

  “Are these your rooms?” I asked quietly.

  He frowned at me.

  “Are these your rooms?”

  “No. But the Alpha—”

  “These are my rooms.” Saying nothing else, I called out, “Enter.”

  Doyle came striding in. He flicked a look at Adam, looked bored, and then came over to me. His hands came up, gripped my shoulders. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m pissed.”

  “We’ll find them, Kit.” He hugged me tightly and I squeezed his waist, eyes closing for a minute at that simple reassurance. Nobody else had offered it. Sometimes, it helped to just have somebody say something like that.

  “They’re my family, Doyle. We have to.”

  “I know.” He sounded so mature—so grown up. He was almost nineteen now, far more mature than the skinny kid we’d saved from a pit. His blue eyes held mine for a moment before he looked over at Adam. “You got a problem, Coombs?”

  “No, Enforcer.”

  “Then maybe you can quit staring at Ms. Colbana.” Doyle’s voice went hard, softening to a dangerous gentleness as he stepped around me, taking a few steps closer to Adam.

  “Yes, Enforcer. I...”

  “You what?” Doyle crossed his arms over his chest.

  “I’m just wanting to know why I’m here. I was told to come here and talk to her, but all she’s doing is fluttering around and talking to you.”

  “Fluttering?” I snorted.

  Doyle looked at me. “Kit, you flutter? Can you show me?”

  “Sure. Let me go find my wings.” Moving to stand next to Doyle, I cocked my head. “So you were told to come and talk to me?”

  The door opened before he had a chance to answer and Damon entered. Damon didn’t walk into a room—it was almost like he just…took over a room. His presence filled it and blotted everything else out. In a black shirt that gloved the hard planes of his body and worn, faded jeans, he looked like danger personified.

  Doyle gave him a deferential nod, eyes falling to the floor for a moment.

  Adam on the other hand looked at the floor and kept his eyes there. Such a good little soldier.

  Damon nodded at Doyle and then focused on me. He didn’t even glance at Adam.

  “You deal with him?” Damon asked me.

  “Me?” I cocked my head, studying Adam. “Am I allowed to?”

  “You’re the one he disrespected, Kit. Not my place.” Damon stood on the other side of me, his eyes narrowed.

  “What? Alpha, I did not—”

  Damon cut him off. “Kit’s guest is here, wasn’t far behind me, Doyle. Why don’t you
go see if he remembers the way?” He continued to stare at Adam. As Doyle moved to the door, he finally decided to address him. “Word went out a while back that Kit was mine—she was moving in and was to be accorded all respects given to anybody else living inside the Lair. Did you not get that message, Coombs?”

  “I…yes, Alpha.” His gaze slid to my face.

  Nova was indeed here. I gave him a casual glance as he came strolling in behind Doyle less than a minute after Damon had sent him out.

  Nova gave Adam a look of mock surprise that was so obviously feigned, I almost rolled my eyes. “Oh, hey…it’s you again. Am I allowed to talk to Kit now?”

  Adam’s lips peeled back from his teeth.

  “Perhaps you’d like to call my friend meat again,” I said, stepping forward and drawing Adam’s attention to me. “While you’re at it, maybe you’ll call me the same thing. I’m half-human after all. Or didn’t you know?”

  Adam’s lids flickered.

  Oh, he knew.

  “If he’d been here at the Alpha’s request, would you have insulted him?”

  “You’re not the Alpha.” Adam’s voice was stiff.

  “True.” I shrugged. “Okay, what about Doyle? Or Scott? The people on rotation who come in and clean the public rooms here at the Lair?”

  He looked away now and I felt the tension rising in the man beside me.

  “I guess I have to earn your respect.” Nodding, I stepped even closer, one hand moving to the sword at my side. “I’ll tell you what. If you can shift and draw my blood before I can draw your blood using my blade, then I figure we’re square and you’re right. You don’t owe me anything. No respect, no nothing and I won’t make you apologize to my friend for the rudeness you showed him.”

  Adam started to laugh.

  When nobody else did, the sound died in his throat and he asked, “Are you serious? If I harm one hair on your pretty little head, the Alpha will gut me.”

  “No, he won’t.” I shot him a look. He stood there, impassive, arms crossed over his chest as he looked on. “He told me to handle it and that’s what I’m doing.”