by Kate Douglas
“And the wands?” Her fingers balled in his T-shirt, but she didn’t recoil. He had a feeling the stubborn witch was going to stand there for as long as he wanted to keep talking, no matter how bad it got.
A brief smile touched his lips, and he covered her small, warm hands with his. “He was on a kind of antidepressant that caused impotence. All the pieces fit. We thought we had our guy.”
“You didn’t.” The words came out a whisper, and a tiny shiver went through her.
“No.” He snorted. In retrospect, he should have seen it, should have understood the case would get personal when he couldn’t get a clear precog read on anything. “Instead, we just pissed the real killer off by giving credit to someone else.”
She didn’t ask how this related to his wife, but he could feel her going rigid behind him, knew she’d already guessed what had happened to Laura. Bile burned the back of his throat, threatening to choke him. Cold spread through him, freezing around his heart. Gods, he didn’t know if he could say it. Didn’t know if he could force out the words he’d never said to anyone. So he told her about his wife, instead of what had ended her life. That much, at least, he could manage.
“Laura, she was a Fae artist, you know? She had that stereotypical flakiness. Hell, she owned it, played it up. Frustrated the hell out of me, sometimes, but that was just her.” A sigh eased out of him. They’d been so young, so damn sure of themselves. “She forgot to set the warding spells on the house. Wasn’t the first time.” And he’d given her hell about it every time, but Laura was Laura was Laura. She’d apologized, promised to remember, and then a week or two would go by and he’d come home to an unprotected house.
He was silent so long, lost in his own thoughts, that he jerked when Chloe spoke. “Who did it if it wasn’t the guy you arrested?”
“His twin sister. That was how he’d known about the crime scenes. She told him.”
“A woman did that? To other women?” Her palms flattened against his stomach, and he could feel the deep breath she dragged into her lungs. He heard the trained medical professional in her voice next. “That’s a fairly rare psychopathic trait to find in women.”
He nodded even though he doubted she could see it. “They were both abused as kids by their father. Seriously abused. Sexually. With wands, among other things.”
“Oh, gods.” Horrified woman washed the doctor away, and she wedged herself even closer to his back.
“I came home and . . . found Laura like that.” His belly heaved as the memories he’d have given anything to burn from his mind assaulted him in vivid, gruesome succession. The wand had still been inside her, a knife from a set her parents had given them for a wedding present protruding from her chest, her eyes blank, and her face waxen. He’d slipped in the ocean of blood around her, fallen in it before he’d reached her side. His mind had known she was gone, but he’d still radioed for an ambulance, praying someone could undo what had been done, that somehow the awful metallic stench of blood would be gone and she’d be there, smiling at him and telling him she’d burned dinner so it was Chinese takeout again. “We’d only been married five months, and it was over. I lost her.”
“And you blamed yourself.” The soft sob was almost his undoing, and he jerked away, every muscle in his body shaking. She came around him anyway, took his face in her hands. Like him, she wouldn’t let him run away. She blinked back tears and searched his face. “You still do. Blame yourself. Your clairvoyance. For not seeing what was coming, for not saving her.”
He choked on a breath, but met her eyes and told the truth. “Yes.”
“It wasn’t your fault.” Her fingers stroked over his jaw, and he wanted to lean closer, wanted to rip himself away from the tenderness that was so absent from his life.
Words, the ugly, vicious truth, wrenched from his gut. “She died because of my case, because she was my wife, because I couldn’t see to save her.”
“You can’t save everyone, Merek.” A wealth of sympathy, of understanding, filled her eyes. The knowledge of a woman who could have saved her mother if she’d possessed the skills she did now. “When it’s time for someone to go, it’s time.”
“No. No, that’s not always true.” He couldn’t allow himself so easy an excuse. Hadn’t he wanted to? Hadn’t he tried? But he’d been through this in his mind so many times, and then had forced himself to bury it deep inside and move on before he drove himself mad. “There are a lot of possibilities for when people’s lives are over. That’s what I see most of the time when I look into the future. The past is solid; the present is always in flux while people are making decisions, but the future is all possibilities. Roads people can take, choices people can make. If I had known what was coming, if I had made different choices, maybe it would have been a later possibility for their deaths.”
Her inky brows lifted. “Their deaths?”
A harsh chortle crackled from his chest. “All those people I couldn’t see? My parents, my best friend, my wife? They’re dead. A murder, a car accident, a mugging gone wrong. All of them died. Horribly, unnecessarily.”
And he’d never let anyone that close ever again. Until now, until he’d had no choice. Until the alternative had been worse than letting someone in.
“You’re never going to know that for sure. You can’t torture yourself for being human. You’re not a god, no matter how powerful your abilities are.” She slid her arms around him and pressed her nose to his chest, squeezed him tight. “You’re not Superman, remember?”
He laughed, hot moisture stinging the backs of his eyes. He rubbed his hand over them until he knew he wouldn’t embarrass the hell out of himself. “Yeah. I know.”
Sliding out of his arms, she took his hand and tugged him into the bedroom. He followed without protest, too drained to deal with anything else. Some of the weight on his chest had shifted, the ice cracking, just from telling her the truth. He pulled in a deep breath, stood placid while she undressed them both and urged him into bed.
She settled against him, hooked her leg over his thigh, and sighed. “You know, you had that same look on your face the night I met you.”
He grunted, pulled her closer. “What look?”
“That stony-faced, the-world-fucking-sucks-ass look.” She kissed his chest. “The one you got when you watched Alex and me tonight. Same expression.”
The night he’d met her came back with perfect clarity. When he thought about it, he usually focused on how it ended, not how it began. He blinked the grit from his eyes. “That about sums up that day, yeah.”
“Why?” She leaned up a little, propped her chin on his chest to meet his gaze.
Trailing his fingers over her silky hip, he let himself be distracted for just a moment, let himself savor the feel of her. Then he dragged in a breath, smelled her sweetness. “You know how I said Selina’s fate fuzzes in and out for me? Sometimes I see it and sometimes I don’t?”
More understanding and empathy than he could ever deserve shone in her eyes, though she looked as tired as he felt. “What did you see about her? How bad was it?”
“I saw her death.” His shoulder jerked in a shrug. Seeing death was just a part of his reality, as a clairvoyant and as a cop. It was tougher with people he knew, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. “It’s going to be bloody and ugly and just as gruesome as—”
Laura’s. He didn’t say it out loud, but Chloe knew what he meant. It was a relief that someone knew; just the telling, the sharing had helped ease some of the oppressive weight of failure and guilt inside him.
He cleared his throat. “It’ll happen soon, within the next year.” He’d seen it that day, and had gone to a bar to rinse the bitterness of it away. Instead, Chloe had walked in before he’d finished his first beer.
“Did you tell her?” The bottom of her foot brushed up and down his calf.
Shaking his head, he gave a rueful smile. If Chloe knew more about his partner, she’d know the elf was always three steps ahead of ever
yone, even without extraordinary precognitive abilities. “I didn’t need to. She knows.”
“She does?” Chloe blinked.
“Some Magickals can sense it when the end is near.” He brushed her hair away from her face, rubbing a shiny, blue-black lock between his fingers before tucking it behind her ear. “Selina is old, almost at the end of her natural life anyway.”
Her chin dug into his chest when she shook her head. “The death you’re talking about isn’t the natural end of life.”
“No.” He let his breath ease out slowly. “No, it’s not.”
She drew patterns on his chest with the tip of her finger, and even as exhausted as he was, he felt his body stir. He almost groaned. There was no way he was doing anything about it right now. Later, definitely. She smiled at him as if she knew what he was thinking. “So, you’re there and I walk in and you can’t see my fate and you like your women like that?”
He snorted and arched his eyebrows in disbelief. “After my wife? You think I wouldn’t run like my ass was on fire from a woman whose future I couldn’t see?”
Her nose wrinkled. “Yeah, good point.”
Pulling her up until she was draped across his chest, he kissed her soft mouth. “You were irresistible. The last thing I wanted was to look at someone and see the end of them, know exactly how numbered their days were. Even if they were going to live as long as Selina, I didn’t want to see it.” He shifted her until she straddled his hips, slipping his erection into her hot sheath, wanting that connection. Her sigh was all pleasure, and she shut her eyes and relaxed bonelessly against him. His palms cupped her hips, and his tension unwound as well. “With you, sweetheart? I couldn’t see anything. Not so much as a flash like I had with Laura. Nothing. I didn’t even have to hold back my precognition. It got the night off for some R & R. So did I.”
Her smile was smug, but her eyes remained closed. “Glad I could help take your mind off things.”
Listening to her breathing even out, he knew the exact moment she slipped over into sleep. He could feel blissful unconsciousness coming to claim him as well, and he fought it off just long enough to check the magical shields on the apartment.
Chloe made a little sound in her sleep, and burrowed into him. He held her tight, needing her near more than he’d ever needed anything in his life. Shutting his eyes, he sighed. Even his last thought wasn’t enough to keep exhaustion from dragging him under.
Losing her now just might kill him.
Hot moisture coated Merek’s cock when his eyes flared open the next morning. Chloe’s tongue worked along the underside of his dick as she sucked him hard. A harsh groan broke the silence in the room, and he laced his fingers in her silky hair, holding her in place. He barely remembered to throw a spell up to muffle the sounds in their room before he cried out. He felt the head of his dick hit the back of her throat.
“Gods. Yes. Chloe. Please. I . . .” The words were broken, barely coherent fragments of thought, his control spinning away as he arched off the mattress, needing to fuck that talented mouth.
She chuckled, and the vibrations against his shaft damn near made him come. His fingers clenched in her hair, and he gritted his teeth to hold off orgasm as long as possible. This was too good to end so soon.
He shuddered as she licked and tasted him, swirling her hot, wet tongue around the head of his cock. A hoarse sound of pleasure wrenched up from his chest. His body bowed in a tight arc, his hips jerking upward without any direction from his mind.
Gods, if she used any kind of magic on him—
The thought had no more than drifted to the front of his consciousness when he felt a slow sizzle slide down his flesh as she sucked him deep. He jackknifed on the mattress, caught her shoulders and had her on her back before she could do more than moan a protest.
“I was having fun.”
“So was I,” he growled. “A little too much fun.”
He forced her thighs wide with his, and filled her with one quick jab. She gasped, arching underneath him. Her legs wound around his hips, and her hands rose to clutch at his shoulders. “Hurry, Merek.”
Restraint had slipped through his fingers, and he didn’t need any urging. He couldn’t have slowed down if he’d had a gun pressed to his temple. He needed her, craved her. Now. Right now.
After the gut-wrenching emotions of the night before, the mindless ecstasy she offered him now was more than he could resist. She wanted it, he wanted it, and he wanted it with her. Only with her.
Her slim thighs wrapped tight around his waist. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes. Just like that. So good . . . right there. Oh, please. Merek!”
“Ah, gods.” It was too much, listening to her litany of pleasure. His hips bucked, driving his cock into her sweet heat with brutal force. She was right there with him, dragging her nails down his back, sobbing for him to move faster, harder, deeper. And he gave her what they both needed. The feel of her sleek sheath gripping his cock was so damn good.
The bedsprings squeaked beneath them, and the headboard thudded against the wall. Slapping skin, harsh cries, low moans, gasping sobs. A carnal symphony of lust.
All of it turned him on even more. Everything about her did.
Seduction spells flowed back and forth between them, shoving them higher. His heart pounded in his ears, drowning out every other sound. There was only her, only this. Her mouth opened in a silent scream when he sent a pulse of his own lust dancing over her flesh. Golden light burnished her skin, made her a fiery goddess in his arms as an unholy gleam lit her eyes. She spread her fingers wide on his chest, and white-hot lightning arced from her to him, sizzling his nerves until he was on the edge of orgasm.
“Fuck, yes. Baby, that’s just—” He didn’t bother trying to gather enough wits to finish the sentence. Instead, he thrust deep, ground his hips against her clit. He knew now exactly which angle would make her—
“Merek!” Her hands seized his biceps in a frantic grip as she twisted beneath him. “Faster. Please. Yes. Merek. Please. Fuck me harder.”
He couldn’t stop a smug smile. There was no ecstasy as potent as a woman begging for more. When she gave him the same smug smile and deliberately fisted her pussy on his dick, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. He didn’t even want to. “Now. Right now.”
“Yes!” She arched underneath him, and heated spells from her gripped his cock each time he plunged into her slick channel. Desperation made his movements harsh, frantic. So close. He reached between them and thumbed her clit, tweaking it with a spell that made her gasp and explode in his arms.
Her pleasure hit him in a wave that dragged him under, and he let it, welcomed it.
When he came, the rush was more intense than anything he’d ever known. It burned him from the inside out, ripping at his very soul. For once, he didn’t fight, didn’t resist, didn’t try to hold on to any kind of control. His body jerked, come jetting from him as her pussy contracted around his cock. She sobbed his name, and he worked her as long as possible, shoving his dick deep, wringing them both out.
“Chloe,” he groaned. He sank down on her with the vague wish that he could stay inside her forever, that the pleasure he found with her would never end. He shuddered, buried his face in crook of her neck, and licked the salty sweetness of her flesh.
She sighed and shivered, trailing her fingertips in long, slow sweeps over his back. “Good morning, by the way.”
Laughter burst out of his throat, and he wrapped his arms around her, rolling until she sprawled on top of him. The swift movement had her squealing and clutching at him, but the giggle that burst from her when she braced herself over him and flipped her hair out of her face so he could see the sparkle in her eyes made a tenderness he’d rarely experienced in his life squeeze his chest.
“Chloe, I—”
He’d never know what he might have said, because she swooped down and caught his mouth with her lush lips. It was slow and soft, her unique flavor on his tongue, her scent in his nose, her silken sk
in rubbing over his body. They were both breathing hard when she lifted her head, and she shot him a wicked grin. “Gods, I love the taste of you.”
“Ah, sweetheart. You’re good for me.” He sat up and cradled her close, kissing her forehead.
Some of the light dimmed in her eyes, and her smile slipped a bit. She glanced away. “Yeah, I’m so good for you I’m going to get you shot one of these days.”
“Hey, now.” Frowning, he crooked a finger under her chin and forced her to look at him. “Where did that come from? What happened to you being the hopeful one?”
Shaking her head, she pressed her lips together. “I don’t know. I’m just . . . worried.” A faint smile creased her cheeks. “I’m always worried. About you and Alex . . . and me, of course.”
He sighed, brushing her hair out of her eyes and away from her face. He wished he could spare her this, but he knew he couldn’t, so he gave her honesty instead. “I’m not going to tell you not to worry, Chloe. I’ll do my best to make sure that’s all you have to deal with, but you already know my best may not be good enough.”
The words burned as they came out, and he wished like hell he didn’t have to say them, but he wouldn’t lie to her, not ever. Not even to spare himself. Especially not then. He dropped his forehead to hers and pushed away the self-loathing he felt for having failed to protect them. Like he’d failed others before them. He’d done everything he could.
“No, I—” She shook her head, kissed him. “I trust you to help us. You have to know that. I trust you the way I could never trust anyone else, and it scares me even to tell you that, but it’s true.” Her fingers flexed against his shoulders, and she shrugged helplessly. “I just... I don’t know what you get out of this. You could die—”
A laugh huffed out. “Honey, that’s just the job. That’s what I do.”
“Yeah, I know you deal with it every day, but why leave your job for this?” She waved her hand around to encompass the room, the apartment, their whole situation. “Are Alex and I just the job? Is it because you couldn’t see my future? I mean . . . I’ve wondered this from the beginning, but was too scared to ask in case you regained your sanity. After what happened in Oregon, I can’t not ask. It’s not just a vague maybe. It’s a very real possibility. You could end up dead because of us. Why would you do that?”