Wrath: The Niteclif Evolutions, Book 2

by Denise Tompkins

  Hellion finally let me up, and I went to the sofa and sank down, holding out a hand to him in a silent offer to join me. He came to me quickly and took a seat, dropping his arm around me and laying his chin on my head. “I’m incredibly sorry,” he whispered, “for everything. I’m going to expand my covenant to promise you I’ll work on humility.”

  I thought of all the times he’d held me as I cried for Bahlin, his sticking power through an investigation that made him as uncomfortable as it made me, and his willingness to take a long-term chance on someone who listed “potential to fade to non-existence” as a job hazard, and I forgave him all of it. “The effort would be appreciated, but don’t change for me, Hellion. I’ve fallen in love with the man you are, not the man you might be.”

  He tilted me head back and laid his forehead against mine. “I’d like nothing more than to kiss you, to reestablish our connection in a way we both know and understand.”

  I rested a hand on his cheek and shifted my lips so they angled over his. He kissed me long and slow, and the tensions of the last twelve hours faded. I pulled away reluctantly, but I knew my window of opportunity here was small. “Tyr told me I’d touched the killer tonight.”

  “Touched how?”

  “I didn’t have the chance to ask. I just assumed he meant touched-touched, as in ‘laid my hand on’ somehow.” I rubbed my sweaty right palm against my pants unconsciously and shook my head. “I’m sure he meant physically touched. He admonished me to hurry, Hellion, or risk…” I paused, not wanting to admit the last of Tyr’s warning.

  “Risk what, love?”

  I swallowed hard and closed my eyes before answering. “You or Bahlin.”

  “Ah, so the dragon’s a factor then. I suppose that means he’s innocent.”

  I pushed away from him and stood, stunned I hadn’t made the connection. Tyr had given me the biggest clue he could, and I’d fumbled it. I was a walking catastrophe. Shaking off the chains of self-punishment, I said, “I suppose he is.”

  “I’ll accept that, Maddy. Despite my earlier actions, I do want the right person brought to justice.” He stood and walked to the fireplace and picked up a picture on the mantle that I’d never paid attention to. It was an old, sepia-toned photo, and I wandered over to see what was so intriguing to him about it.

  The photo was cracked, obviously having been folded at some point in its long life, and the edges were split, dirty and frayed. The glass frame that currently held and protected it was probably the kindest thing that had been done to the photo since it had been taken.

  Hellion traced a finger down the front of the glass, and I saw where his eyes rested, on a woman with pale hair and bright eyes who looked up at the man standing next to her in the group shot with open adoration. Amaly.

  “You must miss her,” I said, laying my hand on his back.

  “I grieve her like I’ve lost a sister, a blooded member of my family,” he said. I could taste his grief like the bitterest of pills swallowed, and I hurt for him.

  He sighed and turned away from the photo. “I sincerely want to catch her killer, Madeleine, and I will be petitioning the Council to allow me to carry out the execution.” His voice was nearly flat, monotone, as if he expected me to fight so he’d taken the fight out of the words as they were spoken.

  “Okay.”

  He lifted his head and looked at me, and the look on his face said I wouldn’t have shocked him more if I’d asked his butler to be part of a spontaneous ménage. Shivering with the ickiness of that mental image, I stepped even closer to him and met his astonished gaze. “You need this, Hellion. I get that. Just promise me you’ll take precautions and make it a quick kill. No dragging it out in the name of vengeance, whether for Amaly or for pride.”

  “My word.” The oath was as filled with emotion as his words moments ago had been devoid of it.

  I nodded. That was settled.

  Now we had to catch the bastard.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  We grabbed a fast four hours of sleep and were sitting down to lunch when Stearns came in. He walked slowly, his narrow shoulders hunched like he was burdened with heavy news. Unfortunately I didn’t realize how right I was.

  “Sir, Niteclif.” He looked anywhere but at me. “There’s news.”

  Hellion set his napkins down on the table and reached for my hand. “Best get it over with, Stearns. Was it someone we know?”

  He shook his head, and I released a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “Three women were killed last night, their heads completely severed. London’s in an uproar, sir, and the police are at the door.”

  Shit. We’d completely forgotten the police.

  “If they see me sitting here, they’re going to assume you’re acting out some passive-aggressive rage issue that you have with me.” I stood and looked quickly around the room. I could go through the kitchen and maybe out the back door—

  “Stop, Maddy. I’ve done nothing wrong.” He stood and offered me a hand.

  “Now who’s being naïve?” I snapped, fear giving my words a nasty bite. “Haven’t you ever watched American Justice?” I shook my head. “Dumb question. I don’t suppose you have. It’s just, well, the police need someone to pin the fears of the commonwealth on, and you’re it.” I tugged at my hand and tried to get free of his grasp, but he wouldn’t let go.

  “I’ve made up my mind not to leave you, mo chroí, so here’s where I’ll stay.” He turned to Stearns and said, “Show the guarda in, then you and Mark bar the front door in the event something goes wrong.”

  Stearns’s eyes rounded and he nodded quickly, backing out of the room and never breaking his wide gaze from Hellion’s calm face.

  “Hellion,” I said, warning lacing my voice. “What could go wrong?”

  “I’d hate to make a misstep, so I’ll take a simple precaution. Do you wish to stay or go?” he asked, rolling up his sleeves. He glanced over at me, and once again his eyes were a light brown. While his black eyes had creeped me out at first, and made his face feel cold and hostile, now they were just his eyes. Seeing the artificial brown felt entirely wrong.

  I looked away and said, “I’ll stay.”

  “You’ll be an accomplice, love. Be sure.”

  “I want it noted that I think you’re taking this ‘not leaving me’ thing a little far, but it’s fine. I’ll stay. Will there be blood?” I asked, my voice squeaky.

  “No,” he chuckled. “No blood. Just loosely harnessed power, and it takes people funny sometimes. Gives me a terrible cockstand.”

  The door swung open, and the two inspectors walked into the room with clear intent. They weren’t leaving without Hellion. I backed away, and my movement drew their attention. Neither of them could hide their reaction at finding the perfectly profiled victim in their suspect’s home. I gave them a little finger wave of acknowledgment.

  “Have you been harmed, madam?” the taller of the two asked.

  “Nope. I’m good.” I scooted further along the wall that was now at my back, intent on getting closer to Hellion.

  “Stop there, sweetheart,” he said.

  I froze.

  I heard one of the men gasp, and I looked up just as the wind of Hellion’s power roared over me in a fiery wash that went straight to the juncture of my thighs. It was like an hour of really good foreplay in an instant. I groaned and found myself anchored to the wall by the invisible bonds of his will. It infuriated me. I tugged and struggled, but the strength of his will alone held me.

  The two inspectors were suffering similar fates, and dimly I recalled Hellion saying he couldn’t create something that wasn’t there. Clearly these men had sufficient lusts to be drawn on, but the curious question was to whom were they drawn?

  Hellion’s voice seemed to whisper through my head. “Unam oblvionis, oblivion duo, memoriam tuam accipio ut ad tenebrosam caliginem mentem.” Oblivion for one, oblivion for two, I take your memories to the dark and make it the mist of the mind.

 
The power in the room increased, and the chandelier swung in the breeze as napkins and papers blew about. The men stood rooted to the floor, unable to take their eyes off Hellion. I was suffering a similar fate, but there was no question from where my lust generated. One of the officers was rapidly rubbing his erection through his pants, and I watched in fascination as the other seemed to want to fight off the magic that threatened to consume him. Hellion’s voice came again through my mind, repeating the same words with more conviction. With each word he loosed in my subconscious, my consciousness reached for him.

  I looked up and was almost frightened of the man he’d morphed into. He felt larger than the simple capacity the room could contain. His power made the air crackle, and it felt like the room itself was trying to conduct lightning with aluminum foil—too much power insufficiently harnessed inside such a little space. This power was elemental and belonged in the wide-open spaces of the cliffs of Ireland, where the power could commune with the sea and the sky. Hellion’s eyes had disappeared, and in their place were hollows of black that appeared to be vacant until you looked closely and realized things moved just beneath the surface of that obsidian gaze, things you dared not look straight at for fear they might see you, recognize you, want you.

  Hellion threw out an arm and pointed at the two men. He made a harsh slashing motion with his right arm and said sharply, “Est perfectus.” It is done.

  The bonds that had held me to the wall let go, and I slid to the floor on legs as reliable as democracy. I trembled with need and mewled when Hellion’s hand reached for me. I shook my head in denial, terrified at the purely sexual need I felt for him.

  The shorter of the two officers looked down and realized he was still rubbing his fading erection, but the stain on the front of his pants said it was post-masturbation kindness he was showing himself. His partner looked over and stared at the man’s groin, and I wondered again what lusts Hellion had raised that this man, wearing a timeworn wedding ring, didn’t want to recognize.

  The short officer was flame red in the face and ears when he said, “You’ll have to excuse us. I seem to have had an accident.” His partner didn’t seem so inclined to believe it had been an accident, but he didn’t question it out loud. Instead, they filed out of the room, looking curiously over the chaos of the room. They’d forgotten the wind as much as they’d forgotten the reason they’d been there at all.

  The dining room door swung shut behind them, and I launched myself up off the floor, clawing my way up Hellion like he was a mountain to be scaled. “Please, please, please,” I begged between kisses, wrapping my legs around his waist and grinding against him.

  He took five large steps to the dining room table and swept off the dishes and silverware with one pass of his arm. He peeled me off him and flipped me over on my stomach, ripping my cotton lounge pants down around my ankles. I cried out as the cool air hit my inflamed lips, and suddenly he was there. The broad head of his penis penetrated me without apology, stretching me to the point where pain and pleasure converged, my natural lubricant so abundant that he slid home with one push despite my tight channel.

  Hellion groaned and I began to push against him, encouraging him to find a rhythm that would help me get to the crescendo.

  He didn’t give me a choice. Hands gripping my hips, Hellion began to move in a way that bordered on contained violence, pounding into me mercilessly. I grunted with each slamming stroke, and I could feel my orgasm building immediately. The dregs of magic seemed to swirl and stroke all my most private places, and he coaxed it with words I couldn’t understand so it seemed there were suddenly a dozen hands pinching and tugging at my clit and my nipples, stroking my lips and tracing down my spine. I couldn’t form intelligent words as I scrabbled with my hands against the wood to gain some handhold that would let me be more than just the recipient. But it was useless. Hellion rode me hard, fast and deep, his thrusts bruising my hips as they hit the edge of the table over and over. I screamed as my orgasm tore through me, lighting me up from the inside. I felt Hellion’s response and he thrust once more, buried as deep as he could get, shaking with the power of his release.

  He kept making small mini thrusts, as if he couldn’t quite let go of the pleasure, and so long as his continued, so did mine.

  I felt him slip from me, and I grunted in response to the sensation. Lifting my head, I was horrified at the state of the room. Broken dishes and food were slung across the floor where Hellion had swept them with his arm. Napkins and paperwork were all over the place, chairs were overturned and the chandelier was still swinging. I pushed myself to standing then bent gingerly to pull up my pants, only to find them in tatters around my ankles. I’d been going through a lot of clothing since I’d a) become involved in the supernatural world and b) started having sex with the supes. My mind closed off at the track that was taking, doing what it could to protect the few shreds of what I considered decency I had left. I blushed furiously, those last few shreds sending up the white flag of surrender.

  “What is it, a mhuirnín?”

  “What is it?” I choked out. “The entire household is going to know what we’ve been doing! Adelle was right. I’m a whore.” I shook my head, frustrated despite the lingering effects of mind-blowing sex.

  “She said what?” Hellion stood and tucked himself back into his pants. He was white with rage, and I worried a little that I was going down a road I didn’t want to travel.

  “Can we just go to the bedroom? Do that dematerialize thing and save me from having to face the coven just yet?” I pleaded.

  Hellion dropped his head forward and placed his clenched fists on his hips. “You’re embarrassed again.” It was a statement of fact, and one I wouldn’t deny. “Maddy, the supernatural world has an entirely different take on sex than the mundane world. Sex is a natural thing between adults. We’re fortunate we’re very much in love, because it makes it better, and our species focuses on consent.”

  My head whipped around and I said, “What do you mean ‘our species’?”

  “You’re right. My species of magi is concerned with consent. For some creatures of the supernatural, taking by force is as reputable as taking by seduction.” His brows drew together, and he seemed to struggle with a question for a moment before asking, “Do you see us as so different, then?”

  “No, it’s just the consent thing that stumped me.”

  “You should have realized even dragons don’t always consider consent essential, Maddy.”

  I groaned and thumped my head against the wall. “You’re right. Great super sleuth I’m turning out to be.”

  He dropped a heavy hand gently to my shoulder and turned me around, offering me his opened arms, which I gladly accepted. He hugged me and set his lips just above my ear and whispered, “You’ve done an amazing job. Let’s get you cleaned up, and we’ll see if we can’t put an end to this.”

  I nodded, tears inexplicably burning the back of my throat. Solving this case was going to put him in direct jeopardy because I knew the killer wouldn’t just accept judgment for the crimes committed against the presumably “inferior” mundanes. No, the killer would have guilt determined and be taken down outside the safety of a stone circle. It wasn’t going to be quiet or easy.

  Hellion wrapped me in his arms and I clung to him, suddenly scared my time with him might be running out.

  The day’s light was fading as we wandered downstairs to meet Darius when he rose for the night. We’d read the online news reports of the most recent murders, discussed the locations of the bodies as they’d been found in the tony neighborhoods surrounding Hyde Park, and dissected every clue we’d uncovered in the course of the investigation. Nothing was gelling for me in the face of my blossoming fear that Hellion was going to end up fighting a bloody battle to see his vengeance served.

  Mark and Stearns had been very solicitous in the wake of the dining room debacle, more impressed with Hellion’s borderline dark magic than the resultant orgasmic earthquake and the m
ess we’d made. I tried to find reasons to leave the room every time they were around until, finally fed up with my doorway sprints, Hellion snagged me around the waist and pulled me into his lap. I struggled ineffectually and finally just gave up.

  Darius strolled into the room looking delicious in black leather pants, combat boots and a tight cashmere turtleneck, also in black. He was completely healed. I couldn’t help the once-over I gave him. Misinterpreting my careful perusal, he arched his brow and turned, striking a pose that gave me a perfect view of his ass. “Like what you see, Maddy?” His voice was teasing but there was still an undercurrent of something unidentifiable there, and it made me stop the easy rejoinder that was on the tip of my tongue and just make a noncommittal noise. “Hellion,” Darius said, inclining his head. Tensions between the men were still higher than when I’d first met them, and the only denominator their strange behavior seemed to have was me.

  “So,” I said, desperately casting about for a way to direct the conversation. “Tyr pulled me into a little impromptu visit early this morning.” The vampire never took his eyes off mine as he poured himself a glass of wine, so I continued. “He said I ‘touched the killer’ last night, and it was important that I get this tied up quickly.” I swallowed the lump of fear building in my throat, and I closed my eyes, concentrating on keeping him out of my thoughts.

  He looked at me hard, and I felt the fingers of his mind poking around mine.

  I shook my head and the feeling subsided. “Do you remember who I touched? I’ve gone over everyone I met, but most supes don’t shake hands, and I was able to rule them out in groups. I’ve got Praen, who did shake my hand, Adelle, who went to slap me and I stopped her—”

  “Come again?” Hellion demanded.

  “Leave it alone. It’s done.” I ran my hand across his shoulder, and he trapped my hand with his, bringing it to his lips for a kiss. Remembering the way he and Darius had gone at each other only a couple of nights ago, I took my hand away and patted his knee, sliding off his lap to sit beside him. If it bothered him, he said nothing. “So there’s Praen, Adelle and who? Who else that fits with the clues we know to be factual and not speculative?”