by Jane Godman
“I said no.”
“I can move into this house for a while.” Valetta had recovered from the shock of seeing her father. Although she was still subdued, her reaction now was quiet anger. Rage mingled with pain at the way Chastel was attempting to taint her father’s memory. “That way Cindy wouldn’t be alone here.”
“We both could.” Samson moved to slide an arm around his wife’s waist. The look in his eyes made Sebastian wonder if his friends had guessed his feelings for Cindy. There was definitely a measure of understanding in Samson’s voice. “We’ll say there’s a problem in our apartment that needs fixing, so we’re staying here.”
“If it will make you feel better, why don’t you stay here, too?” Cindy’s voice had a tranquilizing effect as she spoke directly to Sebastian. “Hendrik doesn’t know what’s been happening over the last few days. We’ll say you’ve just flown into town and Valetta has invited you to stay.”
He exhaled the long hard rush of air that had been tightening his chest. “Okay.” It wasn’t the perfect solution, but there were some merits to the idea of having a spy whom Hendrik trusted. And maybe charades could work both ways. The thought danced intriguingly before him. “But if that bastard touches you . . .”
“He won’t.” Her eyes conveyed a message that was just for him. It made him wish they were alone. She was telling him everything he needed to know. Right there. Right then. She was his. Totally and forever. If they had a forever once this nightmare was over . . . and he got over the hurdle of telling her the truth about his past. He had found his mate and the irony was, she had been in his life for the last four years. Four lonely, wasted years. “I’ll make sure of it.”
“I may have thought of a way to take this to Chastel without going on the attack.” The idea wasn’t fully formed yet, but Sebastian knew his friends would work with him and enhance it. “Since Chastel enjoys charades so much, why don’t we give him exactly what he wants?”
* * *
It felt like Cindy had packed an extra lifetime into the last twenty-four hours. Every imaginable drama had been thrown at them with no recovery time in between. As she wearily made her way up to her room to grab a few minutes to herself before dinner, her head was spinning.
Her hand had just connected with the door handle when Hendrik came out of the master bedroom across the hall. She sensed he had been waiting for her.
Throughout the day, she had watched him, looking for signs that he wasn’t who he claimed to be. Cindy had shared a house with him for the four years before his death. She had cooked for him and cleaned his house. She knew what foods he liked . . . although that one was easy. He was a werewolf. Give him a plateful of raw meat at every meal and he was happy. His daily routine was imprinted on her memory. His comfort and care were how she made her living. No one, not even Valetta, knew the details of Hendrik’s day as well as Cindy. She was used to anticipating what he wanted and providing it, sometimes even before he knew it himself.
Her close scrutiny hadn’t provided any real clues that this wasn’t him. Now and then she’d caught glimpses that had made her heart race a little faster. There was that split second of hesitation when he hadn’t appeared to recognize Vigo. Together with Jenny, Vigo was the brotherhood’s newest recruit. He had been brought onto the team after Hendrik retired. For a second, Cindy had experienced a flare of hope. Had this fake Hendrik been about to expose himself?
He had stared at Vigo in silence for a moment or two then, as though responding to a voice inside his head, he had grinned and clapped Vigo on the back. “Good to see you again.” He had continued by asking Vigo questions about how his time on the team was going.
Now he regarded Cindy with a serious expression. “I’m home again. We don’t need to sleep in separate rooms.”
This was it. This was where the phony Hendrik had got it all wrong. He had assumed it would be natural for a man returning from the dead to question his lover about their sleeping arrangements. Even taking out of the equation the fact that Cindy and Hendrik were not lovers, this was not the way the real Hendrik would have behaved.
For a second, tears threatened to overwhelm her as Cindy thought once more of the kind, principled man who had been her friend. She had never seen Hendrik in love, but she knew instinctively he’d have read a difficult situation like this and never—ever—pushed the pace. He’d have acted with understanding and chivalry and let his partner come to him in her own time.
There was something missing in this replica. He looked and acted like the original, but Chastel hadn’t been able to implant that fundamental integrity. It made this situation scary, but Cindy wasn’t frightened of the man standing opposite her. She was afraid of the person pulling his strings. Could Chastel make this scene with Hendrik difficult? When he had appeared not to know Vigo, he’d looked as if he was waiting for a prompt. Was Chastel controlling his actions that closely? The master puppeteer jerking his strings from a distance? There was only one way to find out. She needed to conduct this conversation the way she would if she was talking to the real Hendrik Rickard. Anything else would alert suspicion.
“This is going to take some getting used to,” she said. “Coping with your death was very hard. It won’t be easy to go back to the place where we were.”
She could see her words were taking time to register with him. The look in his eyes was like a computer taking a frustratingly long time to log on. Hendrik had always been a sensitive man, with a genuine empathy for the feelings of others, yet he was clearly struggling to understand what she was saying.
“But I’m not dead.”
“I believed you were. Now I have to deal with a different set of emotions.” Because she had to explain herself, it wasn’t like talking to Hendrik and that was a relief. It reminded her that this man with the face of her dead friend wasn’t who he claimed to be. “That’s going to take time.”
“Okay.” Although he clearly didn’t understand, at least he was playing along.
Cindy was about to turn away when he spoke again. “Is everything okay with the brotherhood?”
Her heart gave an uncomfortable little thud and she frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I thought there were some tensions. Almost as though they aren’t getting along as well as usual.”
His eyes searched her face. It was an uncomfortable feeling. This was her friend Hendrik. But it wasn’t. He was in her space, up close with one hand on the wall at the side of her head. And he was looking at her differently. Staring down at her the way a man gazes at a woman he loves. It made her want to turn away from him so she didn’t have to see that expression in his eyes. With difficulty, she kept her gaze on his.
“There have been some problems among the team.” She got an uncomfortable feeling as she looked into Hendrik’s familiar gold-colored eyes. Was she talking direct to Chastel? “Sebastian wants to go on the attack and hunt for Chastel, but the goddess won’t allow it.”
“Will Sebastian split with the others and do it anyway?”
These were not the sort of questions Hendrik would have asked her. He would have marched downstairs and asked Sebastian himself. I am talking to Chastel. The thought made her shiver. She remembered the scene in Valetta’s bedroom and Sebastian’s words. Since Chastel enjoys charades so much, why don’t we give him exactly what he wants?
“I think he might.”
Chapter Nine
Patience had never been Sebastian’s strong point. Now, he was at the stage where his frustration had reached volcanic proportions. His flight to New York was the following afternoon, and he had spent the last hour going over his plan again. Fenk first, then Chadwick. He was going to see them both before the close of the day . . . whether they liked it or not.
His mind kept straying away from his laptop screen. Leaving Cindy here with the Hendrik impostor bothered him. Bothered? Even with Samson in the house, it was scaring the living hell out of him.
He had seriously toyed with the idea of taking her wit
h him. The problem was that he was stepping into the unknown. He had no idea who Chadwick and Fenk really were. He hoped they genuinely were a couple of computer geeks who had struck lucky with their online gaming channel. That way, his visit to New York would be an interruption of the fight against Chastel, but at least he would get a story out of it.
He had a feeling there was more to it than that. The time line of Chadwick and Fenk’s rise to prominence was linked to key dates for the brotherhood. Those memorable occasions had all been tied into confrontations with either Fenrir or Chastel. Then there was the fact that the business card left with Cindy had contained those two names. With everything else that had happened, he hadn’t had a chance to question her further about what those two men had looked like. He had hardly spoken to her at all during the rest of the craziness that had unfolded.
Now it was the middle of the night and his body craved her like an addict seeking his next fix. As if in answer to that thought, there was a soft knock on his door. It opened almost immediately, and Cindy entered.
“I’m glad you’re still awake.” Her smile was shy, but the light in her eyes instantly heated his blood to boiling point.
Putting his laptop on the floor, he pushed the covers aside and got to his feet, loving the way her eyes widened as she took in his nakedness. “You have no idea how pleased I am to see you.”
“I think I’m starting to get that message.” Her voice was husky as she stared at his enormous erection.
They crossed the room together, colliding in a kiss so urgent it drove the breath from Sebastian’s lungs. There was nothing soft or gentle about the way their bodies touched. Stroking and caressing could wait for another time. This was hot and hungry. Grinding and clawing.
Deciding the bed was too far away, Sebastian lifted her onto the dresser without breaking the contact of his lips on hers. Sliding his hands under the nightshirt she wore, he dug his fingers into the naked flesh of her buttocks and Cindy squirmed against him, trying to press closer.
“Don’t make me wait, Sebastian.”
“Okay, but no screaming. We don’t want Hendrik to know what’s going on.”
With a laugh, he hoisted her nightshirt up around her waist, pulling her legs apart before he dropped to his knees.
Cindy’s head tilted back against the wall, a moan escaping her even before he rolled his tongue over her clit. Using his fingers to hold her outer lips apart, he licked her hard and fast, giving her exactly what she needed. At the same time, he jacked his achingly hard cock in time with rhythm of his tongue.
Cindy’s hands tangled in his hair, holding him tightly to her body. He could feel her starting to tense. Plunging his tongue into her, he fucked her with it. Driving it into her honeyed depths, over and over. Seconds later, she was lost in pleasure, gasping out his name as her climax shuddered through her slender body.
Condom. At least he still had one rational thought left in him. Lightning fast, Sebastian moved to where his jeans hung over the back of a chair. Taking care of the protection, he returned to Cindy.
Gripping his cock again, he watched her face as he rubbed the tip of his cock over her clit, knowing those sensitive nerves would still be throbbing. Cindy hissed in a breath.
“Does that feel good?”
Her eyelids fluttered down, long lashes shadowing her cheeks as she nodded.
“Tell me, Cindy.” His voice was hoarse.
“It feels wonderful.” She looked directly at him as she spoke, her eyes dark and hungry.
“Use your fingers while I’m inside you.”
Biting her lip, she used her fingertips and took over the rhythm he had established as Sebastian pressed against her entrance.
Watching as she pleasured herself while he pushed inside her was almost too much for his self-control. Molten heat pounded through him from his balls to the base of his skull. It felt like an army of demons was hammering out a message along his nerve endings, telling him to pound himself into her hard and fast. And he was going to do just that.
But first he was going to take one final look at her fingers opening herself to his gaze as they circled her clit. The dainty pink button was glistening with her juices and his balls tightened further at the sight.
With a groan, he pushed all the way into her, feeling her grip him hard. Lifting her against him, he drew her legs around his waist and began to pump his hips. Hard.
Cindy’s hand was trapped between them, still pressed tight up against her clit and her eyes widened at the sensation of him slamming into her coupled with her own touch. Her back arched and Sebastian felt her muscles vibrate with pleasure. She was so tight. So perfect. He lost himself in her. The feeling of her around him. Her heart beating in time with his.
When she came apart again around him, his own release pulsed through him, spurting hot and hard. Orgasms had never felt like this before. This perfect oneness. This was like becoming part of Cindy. His breath was her breath. His movements were hers. He existed only in relation to her.
And that had nothing to do with sex.
* * *
“We have a problem.” Sebastian had never seen this particular expression on Wilder’s face before. It was serious and yet . . . He couldn’t find the right words. Exultant? Shy? Scared? All of those things at once? None of those were feelings he would usually have ascribed to Wilder. “It’s a problem for the brotherhood, but not an actual problem. In a real-life sense, it’s not a problem at all. It’s really quite wonderful.”
And that was another thing. Wilder, one of the most eloquent men Sebastian knew, was rambling. He had been doing it for the last five minutes. After turning up at Hendrik’s house unexpectedly early that morning, he had asked Sebastian if they could talk privately. Now they were in the forest behind the house and Sebastian was still no closer to knowing what this was all about.
“Just tell me.”
Wilder nodded. “Jenny’s pregnant.”
Sebastian went with his gut reaction. The one a friend would go with. Not the Oh, shit, what do we do now? one that his Arctic werewolf wanted him to go with. “That’s fantastic news. Congratulations.”
Wilder’s smile lit up his face. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? I’m going to be a dad.”
“You’ll be the best dad. And Jenny will be an awesome mom.”
“She will, won’t she?” Wilder’s smile faded. “But you can see what the problem is. She can’t be part of the brotherhood while she’s pregnant. I’m not exposing her to the risks.”
Always seven and only seven. The brotherhood comprised the bravest and strongest Arctic werewolves. That was their creed. How the fuck are we going to find ourselves another member while this madness is going on?
Sebastian didn’t voice his fears. He didn’t need to. Each member of the brotherhood held an equal place within the team. They would still be a powerful force with six members, but seven was their magic number.
“This could destroy the brotherhood.” Wilder’s face was solemn. “Jenny and I both feel the weight of our responsibility to the rest of you.”
“You can’t let it cast a shadow over your good news,” Sebastian said. “Each of us has a life to lead outside of the brotherhood.”
Wilder sent him a sidelong glance. “I’m glad you said that. I thought you’d forgotten.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sebastian bristled. He didn’t know where this was going, but he didn’t like it.
Wilder shrugged. “I could get philosophical and talk about the meaning of life. Or I could just say you should get your act together and tell Cindy you love her.”
Sebastian’s initial reaction was to tell him to butt the fuck out. There was friendship and there was interference and Wilder had just crossed the line between the two. Of all his friends in the brotherhood, Wilder was the one Sebastian would have said he trusted to respect his privacy. Before he had met Jenny, Wilder had been something of a recluse himself. Sebastian expected him to understand. Reserved people didn’t do
this. They didn’t trap each other into uncomfortable conversations. They sure as hell didn’t do confrontations about feelings.
Or maybe they did. Because, when he turned to look at his friend, all he saw in Wilder’s eyes was concern. And he realized how much it had taken one introvert to tell another to get his act together.
Sebastian released the breath he had been holding. “It’s not that easy.”
“It’s as easy or as hard as you make it. Believe me, I know. I almost lost Jenny through my own stubbornness.”
It was a sobering thought. Wilder and Jenny were solid. One of the happiest couples Sebastian knew. The idea that they almost hadn’t made it was a wake-up call. The joke within the brotherhood was that a secret matchmaker was at work. Over the last few years, five members of the team had found themselves a mate. First there had been the in-team marriage between Wilder and Jenny. Their romance had been followed by those between Samson and Valetta, Lowell and Odessa and, most recently, Madden and Maria. Only Sebastian and Vigo remained single.
The two men retraced their steps in silence, pausing as they reached the house. It felt different now. When Hendrik had been alive, this had been the scene of so many brotherhood gatherings. It was a place of a safety, a second home to each of them. Hendrik had no longer been a member of the team, but his past affiliation to the brotherhood meant he had understood the unique issues they faced. He was their friend. Sebastian knew he wasn’t the only one who came to the perceptive politician for advice.
Now the house appeared sinister, the warmth drained and replaced with a watchful air. They were all waiting for something to happen here, and it wasn’t a good feeling. Later that day, around the same time that Sebastian left for New York, Hendrik would hold his press conference . . . and the world would erupt.
“How will we replace Jenny?”
“Fucked if I know.”
* * *
Cindy watched from the kitchen window as Sebastian and Wilder crossed the gardens and came toward the house. If things had been different, she’d have been able to give in to the impulse that seized her. She’d have been able to cast aside the dishcloth she was holding and run out to meet them so she could hurl herself into Sebastian’s arms. If things had been different, there’d be no destructive werewolf gods or bounty hunters with magical powers. No impostor with the face of her dead friend. No gnawing feeling of fear eating away at her belly.