"Sounds great," she said. "I'll even buy Dr. Pepper for Mack and Justin, since they're too young to celebrate with champagne."
"I'd rather have Dr. Pepper," I said.
"Me, too," Mack nodded enthusiastically.
"Then I suppose that's settled," Mom said. "I'm going to bed unless anybody needs anything. Good job, everybody. I'd tell Kifirin, too, but he isn't here."
"I let him know," Darzi shrugged.
"Awesome." I lifted my sixth slice of pizza and bit into it.
* * *
"Here." Joey handed keys to me just before I went to bed.
"What's this?" I asked, feeling confused.
"Keys to my house," he grinned. "Just in case you need some privacy."
"Seriously?"
"Just in case," he nodded.
He'd been reading my mind, too, because I'd been racking my brain trying to come up with a decent place where Gina and I could be alone. "Uh, thanks," I said, feeling only moderately embarrassed.
I couldn't help feeling philosophical about it, too—that in the midst of overwhelming problems and dangerous conditions, people still wanted sex. Or, perhaps it was because things were so dire that sex was a way to escape the fear and worry for a while.
Maybe it was the raging hormones of an eighteen-year-old man. After the events of the past few weeks, added to the fact I'd killed spawn and kapiri to defend my friends and myself, I no longer considered myself a teenager.
That night, I think I went to bed tired and older.
* * *
Adam's Journal
"Sweetheart?" I drew covers over us and pulled Kiarra's head against my shoulder. Her sigh tickled my skin as she exhaled.
"Adam?"
"Feel up to some love?" We hadn't had sex since she'd been attacked in the parking lot of a grocery store. I didn't want to think of the many mistakes I'd made since then.
"Will it take my mind off trying to figure out what the enemy is planning?" She turned her head so she could see my eyes. I leaned in to kiss the tip of her nose.
"I sure hope so," I said when I moved away. "Is that what you were doing while I was gone?"
"Yes. Lion, Marli and I sat on the back porch and discussed every possible scenario we could come up with. So far, I don't think we're even close to the truth."
"Then let's table that discussion until tomorrow. I heard from Martin after we got back—they killed six more spawn not far from the construction site last night.
"That's not good." Kiarra sat up in bed, taking her warmth away from me. "I don't like it that they seem to be honed in on all of us," she added. "I mean, Lion and I both discussed those nuclear warheads that were moved a month ago—you know the ones that were set out on the tarmac of a military base and forgotten for a couple of days?"
"I remember," I agreed. "That could have been disastrous."
"I think the enemy missed their chance there—those warheads could have destroyed the entire West Coast if somebody had gotten their hands on them—if not directly by the bombs, then by the resulting radiation."
"I can't believe anybody would consider keeping those things to begin with," I said. "They're just too dangerous."
"Case in point—all the chemical weapons created and stockpiled on Tiralia," Kiarra pointed out. "They knew they had enough to kill the entire planet many times over, yet all three sides refused to stand down and destroy what they had. End of story, everybody died because they couldn't get along."
"How big was the planet?" I asked.
"Nearly twice as big as Earth, with three major continents and strings of islands around each. The crystal was only found in great quantities on one continent. Everything was fine until everybody got too greedy."
"Now it all belongs to my wife," I pulled her close and kissed her amorously, nipping gently on her lower lip—the signal to her that my John Thomas was awake and standing tall.
"At least they dismantled all those B53 bombs years ago," she mumbled against my mouth.
Stop talking about nuclear bombs, I sent, kissing her again. It upsets John Thomas.
John Thomas is upset? Her hand brushed that part of my anatomy, making it jerk with desire.
Now you have to make him feel better, I said, kissing her neck. I wanted to bite. I held that urge back.
What does John Thomas want?
Soft. Warm. Jane Thomas, I replied.
What if she's not ready?
I'll fix that, I offered a devilish smile and dived beneath the covers.
* * *
Justin's Journal
Waking with an urgent erection was becoming too common. That made me want Gina more than ever. Merrill had talked to me about that, too—that women tended not to feel amorous on most mornings because they felt unattractive and had morning breath. He'd smiled and said it didn't matter at all to most men.
"Hey, baby." I'd pulled my cell phone into my hand and called Gina before thinking about it. At least she was already awake. My bedside clock said eleven, so she'd probably been up for a while.
"Want to come to dinner tonight, or do you have to work?" I asked.
"I'm working the early shift, but don't get off until eight."
"I think we can save something for you to eat, and you can bring your mom if you want," I said.
"Let me ask." Gina set the phone down and I could hear her calling her mother. My hearing was definitely sharper after the wyvern made its appearance—I could hear her mother's answer from another room.
"We'll be there as soon as we can," Gina's voice held a smile.
"Awesome. What are the chances we can sneak away alone afterward?"
"I think we might be able to do something. Want to plan a late movie that we manage somehow to miss?"
"I think we can see a movie if you want—from a big, comfortable bed."
"Really?" Gina sounded breathless. "Yes. That sounds great."
"Great," I repeated her word. "Bye, baby. See ya when you get here."
"Bye, Justin." She sounded shy, suddenly.
Merrill talked about that, too. I ignored his lesson for the moment and focused on the body part demanding attention.
* * *
"You okay, man? You usually beat me to the kitchen," Mack grinned as I sat beside him with a plate of eggs and bacon.
"Talked with Gina on the phone, dude," I said before stuffing an entire strip of bacon in my mouth. I was hungry.
"Is that all that held you up?"
"All I'll admit to."
"Probably for the best," Mack agreed and crunched into another slice of bacon.
I felt older; Mack sounded older. I guess going to war against spawn and who knew what else would do that for you. Mack had been injured twice and kept fighting both times. He was brave and tough.
"Thanks for not frying my fur last night," he added with a sigh.
"I will never fry your fur, dude. I had to aim for that bastard's feet, though. I'm just glad giving him a hotfoot was enough to get him to let you go."
"Understood," Mack grinned.
"And you're welcome. Thanks for guarding my back in Florida."
"No big." Mack speared scrambled eggs and shoved them in his mouth before they could escape his fork.
"You had a broken wrist, dude," I pointed out.
"I still had three good legs," Mack grinned.
"Oh," I tossed up a hand. "Why didn't I think of that?" I added sarcastically.
He laughed. It was a good sound.
"Trading war stories?" Crane asked as he wandered into the kitchen and set about making two cups of tea. I figured he'd be taking the second one to Dragon, so I didn't ask.
"Maybe," Mack said. "We admit nothing."
"Always the prudent thing to do in any war. You tend to stay out of trouble that way," Crane nodded sagely while filling the kettle with hot water.
"Who's the better swordsman, you or Mr. Dragon?" Mack asked. Yeah, he definitely admired both men.
"My brother is the second-best swordsman I
've ever seen," Crane said. "I'm slightly behind him. The best I've ever seen trained us."
"Who was that?" Mack asked, sounding almost breathless. I was interested too—somebody was better than Dragon?
"Caylon Black," Crane said. "Died on the northern border when he and his scouts were attacked by a much larger force. He was the last one standing, and the bodies of the enemy were piled around him before he was overwhelmed. Dragon and I had been in the army under our father's command for less than ten years when he fell."
"Wow. That's too bad. I'd like to have seen him fight," Mack breathed.
"We feel privileged to have trained with him," Crane shrugged. "He made warriors out of spoiled Warlord's sons."
"How old were you when you went to war?" I asked.
"Seventeen. That year, Dragon won the Solstice Trials. He fought me for the win."
"What are the Solstice Trials?" I asked, immediately intrigued.
"Consider it the Falchani version of the Olympic Games," Crane smiled. "They are held every year at the summer solstice. You fight with blades only, until the last two are left. The one who wins the final bout receives a prize from the Warlord. Generally, it is gold and a tattoo. Dragon's back tattoo came from that win."
"Who's older?" Mack asked, his eyes shining. I could see he was already imagining himself as a combatant in the Solstice Trials. It would also make a killer video game. I wondered if Joey had considered it, yet.
"I am—by six of your minutes," Crane answered Mack's question as he dropped tea leaves into cups and poured hot water over them. "Sometime soon, Dragon and I will see you trained with blades." He nodded to us before carrying both mugs of steeping tea from the kitchen.
* * *
Adam's Journal
"Adam," Kiarra gripped my arm. We'd dropped by a fish market with Darzi—he said he wanted to cook fish for dinner, so I drove both of them to a shop in Clovis. The clerk packed it in ice, so we felt comfortable stopping at a donut shop on the way home—Kiarra was getting her first cravings.
She'd noticed the small television hanging on the wall behind the counter, and was now calling my attention to it. I read the crawler across the bottom of the screen and almost stopped breathing.
Joyce Christian, Texas Congresswoman, killed in accident in Texas, the crawler proclaimed.
Kiarra shouted at the television screen at home whenever Joyce was shown on this news program or that, spouting her warped version of history, politics and religion. Truth never concerned Joyce Christian; she avoided it as often as possible. The problem was that she refused to back down when the truth was pointed out; too many people believed her and she kept getting reelected.
Now she was dead. I don't know whether to sing or shout with joy first, Kiarra sent, bringing my attention back to her.
I'd like to hear you sing, I offered, hoping it wouldn't make her angry.
I'll think about it. She gave me a beautiful smile and asked the clerk behind the counter for half a dozen maple bars.
* * *
Second's Records; Trajan Gibson's reports
"Three people have asked you to move to west Texas and run for Joyce Christian's vacancy," I handed messages to Winkler, who strode casually into the office at his beach house in Port Aransas. We'd been working on getting Star Cove on the map as a new municipality on the Texas Gulf Coast. After a few snags, things finally looked good in that respect.
"One of these is from the Governor," Winkler held the message up, as if I hadn't seen it already. Hell, I'd taken the call in the first place.
"Please tell me you're not thinking about it," I said.
"I'm not, but we'll have to make a valid excuse to the governor—I don't care about the rest of these people." He dropped the messages onto my desk, letting me know to say no, thank you in a nicely benign fashion, so nobody would be pissed off.
"The Grand Master would have a cow," Winkler added. It was something Lissa would have said—he and I knew that.
"He'd have a longhorn," I pointed out. The Grand Master didn't want to explain the unexplainable to humans, if a werewolf died under unusual circumstances. That happened more often than not with Packmasters—and their Seconds.
"There's no way in hell I'd want to involve myself in politics. No more than I already am," Winkler shook his head. "I have kids, and it's bad enough that I'm under a microscope. They don't need that pressure. Not to mention what Kellee would do as my ex."
"Enough said," I held up a hand. Kellee was a sore spot with all of Winkler's wolves. The only reason Winkler still tolerated her tantrums was because she was Wayne and Wynter's mother. When they reached their majority, Winkler would likely tell Kellee where to stick it.
I wanted to listen when he did.
"Star Cove is going to be a jewel in the coastal communities," Winkler said. "We can start building next week."
"That sounds good, boss," I grinned and lifted the phone. I had people to call. I'd let them know that Winkler had too many commitments and couldn't consider running for congress.
* * *
Justin's Journal
Dinner was amazing. Teddy came with Beth and Mr. Walters. I was beginning to see him as husband material for her; I think Mack was coming around, too. It was easy to see she cared about him—her eyes shone whenever he paid attention to her, and that happened a lot.
Gina, well, I was beginning to see the same thing in her eyes. In fact, I was paying so much attention to Gina that Mack asked me three times to pass the platter of fish so he could get thirds.
Darzi had cooked the best fish I'd ever eaten. Mom didn't make fish often, and nothing like this. Darzi made a sauce that complimented the fish perfectly, and there was fish stew as a beginning course.
Mom got a vegetarian noodle and sauce dish that was outstanding—I tried a bite of it and it was excellent. Darzi could cook anytime he wanted, in my opinion. He was quite humble about the whole thing when everybody complimented him, saying the recipes were borrowed and not his.
I didn't care whose recipes they were; Darzi did a wonderful job preparing them.
Gina touched my hand several times under the table, so I went ahead and cleared the movie idea with Dad and Mom—Gina's mother could drive my old Honda home, and I'd drive Gina home after the movie.
Sure, we could watch a movie from Joey's big king-sized bed, but my mind would be far from the movie, I think.
The Princess Bride is on my DVR, Joey sent mindspeech. So your movie watching won't be a lie, he added.
He knew that movie was a favorite of mine. Mack's, too.
That's perfect, I responded. I can quote that one in my sleep.
I don't think you'll be sleeping, Joey said.
You got that right, I replied.
Chapter 16
Justin's Journal
"Are you sure this is okay?" Gina asked as I led her through Joey's house. It was always neat and tidy—Joey didn't like clutter. I knew the sheets and bedding would be spotless, too, or he wouldn't have invited me to use the bed.
"Oh, yeah," I said.
"This is a nice place," Gina breathed as I led her through Joey's media room. He had a huge screen covering one wall. The thing was, he used that one more for game design than he ever did for watching television.
"The bedroom's just as nice," I took her hand and kissed it before offering a lop-sided grin. "And we can watch The Princess Bride on DVR."
"I love that movie," Gina smiled shyly.
"Good. We'll watch that, then," I said and pulled her toward the hallway and Joey's bedroom. If we needed a distraction for her so she'd be comfortable, then one would be provided.
Joey's bedroom is decorated in rich greens, golds and browns. Wood floors were covered in a soft, thick rug that made Gina sigh happily the moment she kicked off her shoes and scrunched her toes into it.
"This is your Uncle Joey's house? He has good taste," Gina smiled at me. I didn't tell her that he'd learned most of his interior decorating from my Dad, who has impeccabl
e taste.
"Yeah," I leaned in to kiss her. She wrapped her arms around my neck, so I stepped closer and held her tightly. The kiss went on for a while.
Merrill told me it wasn't just a mashing of lips, if you wanted to keep your girl. I sucked on her lip, then tickled her mouth with my tongue.
Make love to her with your mouth, Merrill said. I was doing my best.
She tasted good—and she liked what I was doing, meeting my tongue tentatively with hers. That almost drove me wild.
I had no idea my body might get as hard as it did, either. If I didn't slow down, I'd last the predicted ten seconds, just as Merrill said.
"Movie," I mumbled, realizing I needed the distraction as much or more than Gina did.
"Oh, sure," Gina pulled away. I didn't want her to go, so I stole another kiss before lifting her easily in my arms and carrying her to the bed. The pupils of her eyes were wide and dark as she smiled at me.
"You're so strong," she whispered. "Nobody ever picked me up and carried me before."
"First of many, baby," I settled her carefully on the bed and kissed her again.
Fumbling with the remote for a few minutes, I got the movie pulled up and started on the DVR before climbing on the bed and pulling Gina into my arms. For ten minutes, maybe, we sat like that, watching the movie. Gina lifted her face to me, silently asking me to kiss her.
I obliged before letting a hand wander to a breast. Her nipple hardened beneath my fingers—I could feel it through the thin fabric of her blouse. I wanted my mouth on that.
I told her so.
"Yes," she said, her words breathless.
Don't fumble, I kept telling myself as I took my time removing her blouse and unhooking a pretty bra. I'd been instructed to reveal things slowly, although my brain was panting with impatience and my body certainly wanted everything as quickly as possible.
Sucking gently on a nipple the moment I lifted the bra away made Gina moan. A moan was good. An ouch meant I'd gone too far. She moaned again when I gave a careful nip. That was as far as I could go. Somehow, I knew that.
My hand wandered to the button of her jeans. Taking my time once more, I unbuttoned them without a hitch.
Great.
Zipper next.
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