by Billi Jean
“I think we should simply take the mages to the council. I can gate there, and they can come get them.”
“That’s a bit outta left field, but a good idea. You don’t sound thrilled by it.” Kincaid kept his eye on Demetry and Larisa. Demetry was rubbing his wrists. Shit had to have hurt. There were red circles around his arms where the metal had rested. Kincaid didn’t trust the woman, and the wolf seemed to side with her, so that left him not trusting Demetry either.
Hunter shrugged and crossed her arms. “I’m not, but they broke my last knock-out tap. So did she,” Hunter tacked on when Larisa whined in Russian to Demetry. “Besides,” she said louder, “what else is there? They won’t all fit in the vehicle, and that’s a ways away.”
They hadn’t expected this to be easy, so it was a good thing it wasn’t.
“Right, so, a phone call? Want me to do it?”
She shrugged.
“Go ahead. Call it in,” he said, not liking it, but out here there wasn’t much else they could do.
Hunter simply pulled her phone out, dialed a number right off then turned to the side. He waited, not happy.
“Yeah, we found Demetry and Larisa. They were with some mages we think have answers to the changelings.” Someone on the line said something and she nodded, cute as shit. “Right. I don’t know, but if they know how to reverse the changelings, it’s worth our time to find out all we can. Can I gate them—” She walked away few feet. “Right, that works.”
He glanced at Demetry, who was quietly talking to Larisa. The woman‘s body language, not to mention her outfit, nails and haircut, shouted that shopping was more fun than hanging out in the snow. Either she or Demetry had pulled her fur up over her ridiculous gown. He was betting on the big Russian.
“Right. I’ll form it here, and wait. Okay.” Hunter put her phone away and faced them. “Change of plans. I’ll gate Trouble in. She’ll take the boys and you two will go to the Lykae Compound.”
“What?” Larisa said, suddenly alert. “I have no wish to go there.”
“Why would we go there, Hunter?”
“Why is it a problem? You’re Lykae, so why not go there?” Kincaid asked.
“We are not part of Alrick’s pack. We are Russian,” Demetry explained, watching Hunter more than Kincaid. “Why are you not taking them in?”
“Because no one trusts me. I betrayed our team, hurt people and helped Lucifer try to keep Agni’s Fire Realm in hell. A few people are upset about that,” she added with a shrug.
He knew what she was doing, trying to shock Demetry into silence by throwing it out there like that. But he also thought she was saying it now so he would hear it from her.
Demetry stiffened and lowered his brow in a deep frown. He didn’t appear pissed off by the news, more worried than anything. It was shocking to hear someone say they’d betrayed you and done it for the devil—especially when you knew they literally meant Satan.
“She also went to hell for a friend, so in way it’s not that clear who she actually hurt, other than herself,” he added.
“I see,” Demetry said. “And you are the only one that will work with her?”
He left off ‘human’, but it was there. “No, there are more. I just got lucky,” he said, putting some punch to ‘lucky’ so Hunter would remember their quickie.
“Whatever,” she muttered. “I’m going to open a gate now. Trouble isn’t patient.” She lifted her hands, but her left one not as high. Her side hurt. He ground his teeth, unable to do much about that right now. They had a hike back to the snowmobile, then the drive. Hunter’s hands grew brighter and brighter. Seconds later the sky in front of her split and widened to a doorway to reveal an office—or maybe a study. Trouble moved into view, wearing a black turtleneck and black pants. Women and their black. She didn’t wait but stepped through, her hands glowing green as she did.
“Great, got it. So…” She scanned the area, then Larisa for a long intense moment and lifted a red eyebrow at the gown and fur coat, then on to Demetry with a nod and over to the downed men. “Sleeping tight, huh?”
“Yeah, for a bit.” Hunter had dropped her hands and now had them crossed over her chest, effectively hiding her gunshot wound.
“And you two are here why?” Trouble asked Demetry.
The Russian didn’t blink an eye at her tone. “We were taken farther in the mountains and brought down here.”
“Taken? You? A Lykae? Taken?” she exclaimed, making that sound…well, crazy.
Kincaid had to admit Demetry was a lean, strapping guy, and he was a wolf, which meant dangerous. He proved it, too, by being tough enough not to rise to Trouble’s bait. He stayed silent, simply waiting Trouble out.
“Great. Okay, you two are coming with me,” Trouble said. “I’ll get you to the—”
“We will stay and aid Hunter,” Demetry argued.
Kincaid didn’t doubt the guy’s sincerity, but he had to wonder at his sanity. Trouble was one of those beautiful, very strong immortal women who didn’t handle being disagreed with—at least in his opinion, and not that he’d ever done it.
Trouble glanced at Hunter and something was communicated through that glance he couldn’t decipher.
“Sorry, not happening,” Trouble said. “They don’t need you, one—and two, I don’t trust you or your overdressed friend.”
“We will stay, then, and I will not be going to see Alrick. Here,” he growled, pointing to the area, “is where we belong.”
“Demetry,” Larisa whined, then rushed through a quick bit of Russian until Trouble interrupted. In Russian.
Larisa glared at the other woman but zipped her lip.
“Lookit, I’m glad you want to help—”
“I am not leaving,” Demetry stated. “Neither of us is leaving.”
“Fine,” Trouble snapped and threw her hands up. “But if you interfere with Hunter, you will answer to me.”
Not the search, not the mission—Hunter. Kincaid kept his mouth shut and wisely let them have it out. Hunter caught his eye once, but not long enough for him to check on how she was holding up.
“This is understood.” Demetry bowed slightly.
“Well, come on, boys. Help me lug these guys over here and when I switch gates, just toss them through.”
Toss them through? Kincaid glanced at Hunter and she winced in agreement but gave him a shooing motion toward the unconscious men. He got the hint and went over to haul the first guy by his boots over to Trouble. Demetry did the same until they had the men settled by the redhead.
“She’ll gate them to the Immortal Council?” he asked Hunter.
“Yeah.”
“Cool. Let’s go then,” he motioned back where the vehicle was parked. “You’ll text or call when you know if they have locations on my men?”
Trouble had lifted her hands but paused to glance at him. Her green eyes glowed making them appear more aqua than green, or maybe they’d always been that color. “I will call if I have any news. You have a lead?”
“I think the compound is our best bet,” he said, not willing to talk shop out here, especially with Demetry and Larisa so close.
“Good,” Trouble said. “Jack and I think you’re right. They’re out here.” She gazed around the frozen landscape. “Look what you’ve found already, after only a few hours.”
That was the understatement of the year, but he let it go. “Right. Well, it’s a long walk. We’d better head out. We’ll be in touch,” he added. “Demetry, try not to get chained up again, huh?”
Demetry’s frown deepened. “If you have need of us, you have my number, Hunter.”
She does?
“I will. Thank you, Demetry.” Hunter gave them all a wave. “I’ll call.” With that she started walking up the slope.
One glance at Trouble’s concerned frown and he headed after Hunter. No doubt the reason for some of Hunter’s tears was the chill coming off Trouble. He got it. He really did, but he didn’t buy that Hunter had hurt anyon
e, or that she’d betrayed them.
But does Trouble?
Chapter Ten
So now what?
Hunter glanced at Kincaid and wondered even more about the man. Did he really believe what he’d said to Demetry? He was washing his hands, getting ready to do the same to her side. The trip back he’d been quiet and even now, he was freaking her out with his silence. After only a few questions, mostly about if she wanted to go back to her place and call it quits rephrased several different ways, he’d shut up.
Maybe because she’d snarled at him the last time he’d asked. But what did he expect? How could she quit now? Her side hurt. She wasn’t sure what to do about that, but he could bandage her up here as well as at her place. And sleep and rest wasn’t going to cure a gunshot wound. Time would, but for some reason she didn’t feel like she had a lot of that.
What do I know? This could be the way he is. Hot then cold. It is possible. There are even songs about it.
He walked over and set the bowl of water next to her. They were back in the locker room. It seemed the easiest place. Maybe after this she’d say she was tired and go sleep a bit, get away, give him some time alone.
“Let’s see if it’s still bleeding,” he said, still not meeting her eyes. Without more said, he gestured to her shirt.
She wore a sports bra, so really, she could’ve just sat there in that, but now, with him so quiet—
“Ah, hell, now, don’t be shy here.” He grinned and eased her shirt up, gentler than she would have been, and exhaled heavily. “Damn, woman, don’t even bother saying it doesn’t hurt. You’re still bleeding.”
“Here.” She peeled the disgusting T-shirt off and put it down next to her. The wound did hurt when she had to raise her arm, but in the category of ouchies she’d gotten in her life, this one wasn’t bad.
Kincaid didn’t seem to agree. His frown deepened. “Right. That had to hurt. Here, hold still, and no more stripping until you let me get a beer.”
She couldn’t help it. She laughed—hard enough that she had to hold her side. Of all the times to meet a guy she liked, really liked, now just wasn’t fair.
“Hey, hey, come on. That’s not helping,” he said, making her laugh longer. He finally chuckled but reached up and ran a hand through his dark blond hair. “Damn, seriously, you’re showing off now.”
She knew what he meant, and worse, she liked that he seemed addicted to her breasts, since he mixed it up with a straight, clear interest in her.
“Okay, okay, just stop speaking. You’re just way too much and I’m tired, so I’m getting loopy if your jokes are funny.”
“Right. I’m going to soak that spot before I take the bandage off, so just relax, all right?”
“I am relaxed.” She’d fisted her hands when he took one and lifted it, and Kincaid-like, kissed her knuckles.
“Yeah, right, Sparky. Now, tell me, how long have you known Trouble?” He put her hand down on her leg and got busy with the bowl of water and a T-shirt he’d ripped up.
“Trouble the person, or been in trouble?”
“Good point. How about we start with being in trouble?”
Ah, now that’s tricky. “Maybe all my life, not sure. Trouble found me a few years ago. I was robbing banks and rich people, skating with a crowd of cool dudes in East L.A.”
“What? You’re joking. Seriously, how old are you?”
“Uh, aren’t you never supposed to ask a lady her age?” she teased, just to see him grumble.
Sure enough, he huffed a laugh and shook his head. “Right, I forgot. Hold still,” he cautioned, and put the cold cloth on her wound.
“Yikes!” She shivered and grabbed his wrist. “That’s cold!”
“There’s no hot water. Sorry, Sparky. Just relax.”
“We could have gotten it on… Whew, really that is cold,” she cried, holding her breath when more dripped down her side.
“Think of something else, like, how old are you?”
“How old are you?” she asked, curious about that. He seemed so sure of himself, even stern at times, then as goofy as a kid.
He smirked and met her eyes. “I’m thirty-four, served in the Navy for four years as a squid, then went right into the SEALs for ten years, then into some other top secret shit and now—” He sighed as if he were really suffering, but gave her breasts a long, pretty hot exam, then met her eyes again with a grin. “I’m with you.”
I’m with you. Not working with you. Or stuck with you.
“You’re ancient.” He was perfect, really. “I’m twenty-six,” she finally said when he rolled his eyes at being ancient.
“Damn, you’re an old maid.”
“What? I am not. Geesh. Hey, what are you doing?” She caught his wrist again before he dunked his piece of cloth into the icy bowl.
“Well, it needs more water—”
“Oh, no.” She pushed at his chest to make him move back and jumped down from the counter. “We go find the water heater first.”
“That’s gonna take too long to heat up, girlie. Just hop your sexy butt back up there.” He lifted her by her waist and sat her down as if she weighed nothing. “It’s warm enough now, before you freak out on me, and besides, you gotta put something on. You’re driving me nuts here in a bra.”
“It’s a sports bra. I wear it—”
“It’s a thin piece of material not doing a thing to hide your headlights—”
“Just do the wound thing,” she whispered, and crossed her arms over her ‘headlights’.
He lifted an eyebrow cockily and shook his head. “Right, so you were a criminal, then Trouble found you and what? Cleaned you up?” He moved out from between her thighs, making her stomach do a little jump at the brush of his hips against her inner legs. He bent to the wrapping and began carefully working on the knot.
“Yeah, I guess, but I wasn’t really there with her because I wanted to be.” She surprised herself with that nugget of information.
“No? Why not?”
The knot came open easily so she let out a breath.
“Hey, trust the sailor. I know how to tie a knot, Sparky. Just relax,” he murmured, already working on unwinding the cloth.
“I was told to spy on Sorcha and Trouble.”
He paused in his unwinding with his face a breath away from hers. Suddenly the cold chill of the ice water didn’t register—neither did what she was saying. His lips were so perfectly close to hers. The softness of them was a mesmerizing contrast against the bristle on his chin and jaw. He had some laugh lines around his eyes, etched in the tan of his face, along with a few more tiny lines on his forehead and two cute ones from frowning between his darker blond eyebrows. He had faint scars that were almost the same color as the rest of his face, but up close were a bit lighter. A great face, really.
“Is that when it began?” he asked, pulling her out of her examination of his appealing features. He’d been chewing mint gum and the sweet scent made her mouth water to try some—but not a stick. She wanted a piece of him.
“Yeah, no, right before, when I was seventeen, I thought I killed my sister with my powers.”
He lifted an eyebrow and shifted a tiny bit closer, but now his hip was leaning against her leg. The heat thrilled her, but so did the way he reached up and carefully took her hat off and somehow her ponytail fell free.
“Thought, huh?” He tossed her hat down somewhere and licked his lips, his focus on her mouth, her eyes, her forehead. Since she’d woken to the gruesome scar on her face, he’d been the only one—out of the four people she’d seen—who stared her straight in the…well, eye—and face. If the way she was now bothered Rick Kincaid, he didn’t show it. If anything, he seemed the same as he’d been when she’d pulled him down from that wall, only now he was right in her face about how he felt and what he wanted. Her.
A rush of energy flowed through every inch of her—along with the desire to open her thighs and ride him until she passed out.
“Hunter?”
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“Yeah, I didn’t, but by the time I found that out, well…” She shrugged, then shivered as he unrolled a strip of white bandages without breaking eye contact with her.
“You’d already sold your soul to the devil.”
“Something like that.” She was probably willing to agree to anything just to have him close the distance between them.
As if reading her mind, a second later he was between her thighs again, with his big hands lightly holding her ribs as he crouched.
“It’s still bleeding. You sure you’re immortal?” He didn’t give her time to answer because he moved up and, without asking, kissed her. This time she was so ready she hooked her legs above his drop-dead gorgeous butt and linked her arms around his neck, even though it sent a shot of white-hot pain through her injury.
“Careful of your side,” he warned, and switched her bad arm to his back.
She got the hint and smoothed her fingertips down, then up inside his shirt to the sound of his low, very pleased groan. But he didn’t stop kissing her again, and he wasn’t still with his hands either. He gently roamed her tender side, but didn’t hold back from discovering every inch of her that wasn’t hurt, until he pulled his lips away and grinned at her as he cupped her breast.
“Goddamn, you’re fucking hot,” he whispered, kissing her again before she could respond. He didn’t grab her boob like an idiot. He explored it lightly as he weighed it in his palm. At the same time, he began brushing his fingers over the hardened nipple with a hungry sound. She nearly climaxed. He wasn’t done, though. He cupped one breast in his big palm and drove her nuts with light caresses over the supersensitive point.
She lost the ability to think then, and tightened her legs around his hips to rock into him. No one had ever made her breasts feel so alive before. She wanted more, and this was only the beginning, she was certain.
Kincaid grew bolder, giving her a deeper kiss so they shared every breath and she got a full dose of minty sweetness. Without waiting, she tugged at his shirt and, not missing a beat, he got her silent order and shed the offending T-shirt, only pulling away from her mouth for a second before he framed both sides of her face with his hands and kissed her again. It was insane. Where their bodies met, she swore she felt warmth ease away the painful ache she’d grown used to. Her side was forgotten. The world disappeared because Rick brushed it aside to make room for her.