“You sawed-off little sonnuvabitch, you think you can stand there and tell me how to talk to my friend?” My jaw ached. Pain shooting from my teeth. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
Larson stepped up. His chest bumped into mine even though it was only half as wide. “I’m the man who loves her. I’m the man who shares her life and shares her bed. I’m. The. One. She. Loves.” He pressed against me, teeth bared behind his freshly trimmed goatee. “She’s the reason I did what I did.”
“Oh, now you are going to blame her? See, like I said, it’s not your fault.”
Larson pushed away from me. “That right there, Deacon. That’s your problem. You think you know what’s right and wrong. Worse, you think you get to decide what’s right and what’s wrong. You stand there so convinced that there’s only your way or the highway. You selfrighteous asshole, life is complicated. You should grow up and realize that.”
The skin on the back of my neck was hot and tight, just like the skin on the back of my clenched fists. “Listen to me, prick. There’s one thing that isn’t complicated: magick. It’s wrong. It’s pure evil.”
“I had a good reason for doing what I did.”
“Fuck your reason!” I lashed out. My hand hit one of the conference chairs, spinning it away, smashing it into the wall. The drywall caved around it. “There is always a price to pay for what you get from magick. Always. A bastard named Slaine wanted to bring a demon to earth and it cost me my family. Everything I held dear. You got your legs back and now innocent people are dead.” I threw my hands up in disgust. “But their families can take comfort because you had a reason.”
He glared at me, the sonnuvabitch actually glared at me. Fire blazed high in my guts, driving me forward, right up in his face. “When is it going to be enough? How many more people do I have to lose before it will be enough to pay for your sin, Larson? How much blood has to be spilled?” A string of spittle flew out of my mouth as I roared. He recoiled as if I had struck him.
Kat was on her feet. “Deacon, he didn’t know. He couldn’t know anything like this would happen.”
“Then by God you should have, Kat. You know how this shit works and you knew what he was doing, you had to.” I said it and knew it was true. “You should have stopped him or come to me. Now the blood that’s been shed is on your hands too.”
I swung wide around Larson. If I had touched him, I would have strangled him. My palms itched for it. I left the room without another word or a backward glance.
27
The door slammed shut behind me. My whole body felt tight, swollen with rage. My heart thudded inside my chest, banging against my breastbone in a thick knock. A whirlpool of anger and cursing swirled inside my head.
Tiff sat up on the bed.
I stopped short. She just looked at me, not saying anything. Her head tilted slightly, making her hair fall over her missing eye. Not speaking, she slid toward me. The movement caused the evening gown she still wore to fall open at the slit in the skirt. Her feet were bare, shapely calves flexing as she scooted to the end of the bed. I watched the play of smooth skin as the hem of her dress climbed. It was midthigh by the time she reached me.
The heat inside me turned, shifting from a raging inferno to smoldering burn. Her arms opened and I stepped into them. She laid her cheek against the skin of my stomach. I was acutely aware that I was shirtless. My God, the effect she had on me.
When she spoke I had to lean down to hear her.
“I take it your talk with Kat went well.”
“Actually, it did. We were doing fine until Larson wanted to explain himself.”
She rubbed her face against me. It was smooth and soft with a slight scrape in a thin line. The edge of her eye patch. “Shelve it. Work it out later. Right now it’s a distraction we don’t need.”
“I don’t think Larson will bring it up again.”
“Oh, he will. That man has been trying to prove something since the minute he met you.”
“Prove something?”
She sat up, pulling away. “Sometimes he wants to prove that he’s worth being your ally; sometimes he wants to prove he’s as good as you are. Most of the time he wants to prove that he’s nothing like you.” Her fingers trailed across my skin. “It’s a big ball of macho bullshit, and it’s gotten worse since he started seeing Kat.”
“I’m confused.”
She chuckled. “So is he.”
“None of what you said makes sense.”
“That’s because you’re a man. Not only are you a man, but you’re a man who keeps things separated into categories, boxes where things are put and that’s where they stay for you. It’s how you deal with the world, not how many other people do.”
“Larson accused me of seeing the world in my way or the highway.”
She stood up. “And you think he’s wrong?”
I stepped back. “Do you?”
“No, he got that right, but the trick is I don’t think you’re wrong to be that way.” Her hand fell on my chest. It was a connection, a line of heat between us. “Don’t doubt yourself, you can’t afford it. None of us can. Your strength comes from your conviction. It’s what carries you when everything goes to hell.” She tilted her head. “And I think we have more hell to get through before we’re done tonight.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I leaned down, moving toward her lips.
Her hand flexed hard on my chest, pushing back.
“Nope, not yet. You need to brush your teeth and, more importantly, I need to brush my teeth.” Turning away, she spoke over her shoulder. “In fact, I need to shower and get out of these clothes.”
She stepped toward the bathroom. Slender fingers reached under her hair, fumbling at the base of her neck. Her hands moved away. The dress parted at the halter, slipping down her skin in a quick, liquid slink. Between one step and the next she was nude save for a tiny, teasing pair of panties. One more step carried her into the bathroom and out of sight.
She left the door open behind her.
28
The bathroom was already steaming up as I stepped inside. My guns were on the bed, pants and boots on the floor with Tiff ’s dress. The panties she had worn were a scrap on the linoleum floor. Quickly I snatched my toothbrush from beside the sink faucet and brushed my teeth.
I watched Tiff behind the pebbled glass door to the shower. She wasn’t much more than a silhouette, just the girl shape of Tiff cut against the fog, but it was enough. I finished my teeth in a hurry, stripped off my boxer briefs, and opened the door to the shower.
A blast of warm, wet steam washed over me, driving out a chill I didn’t even know I had. Tiff stood under the rush of the showerhead, fingers working shampoo into her hair. The hot water ran down her back, sluicing away soapy lather that clung to her skin. It ran down, sliding past the curve of her ass and swirling around her thighs. I watched it run, my eyes drinking in the sight of her. Desire stirred, fluttering deep below my stomach.
She turned around. My eyes had been on her ass, watching the sleek muscle bunch and flex as she stretched to wash her hair. When she turned, my eyes stayed, following the turn of her hip, watching the play of smooth thighs. The hollows of her hipbones framed her. The water swept down, washing lather from the curved planes of her stomach to the gentle swell of her pelvis.
Desire hardened in an instant.
My eyes slipped up as she swayed slightly, tracing her side to the flare of her rib cage, up and over the full swell of her breasts. I wanted to reach out and cup them, feel their warm weight against my palm. Her nipples were hard, pulled into tight little peaks.
She leaned back, eye closed under the stream of water. Her hair parted as she rinsed it, revealing her face—strong but delicate jawline, full lips under a cute nose, the four thin lines of scar tissue that cut across the hollow of her missing eye.
She brought her head down and out of the running water, blowing droplets off her lips. Her bright blue eye opened and she smiled at me
.
I smiled back and reached for her. Her head moved slightly to the side. She tensed as her hair, slicked by water, didn’t fall. Her hand reached for it, moving to pull it down over her missing eye. I caught her wrist on the way up.
She looked at me. My heart broke just a little at the raw expression on her face. I didn’t say anything, just brought my hands up, cupping her face. My fingers slipped into the wet tangle of her hair, pulling it back farther. Her teeth bit her lower lip. Slowly, softly, I leaned down and kissed her missing eye.
I couldn’t feel the four thin scars that I knew were there. The skin felt smooth under my lips. I stayed for a moment, my lips pressed against that wounded part of her. I stayed there until I felt a tension leave her and she went soft under my hands.
Still moving slowly, I leaned back, pulling away gently so I could look her in the eye. I stayed close, capturing her in my stare, holding her firm. My voice was thick when I spoke.
“You are the most beautiful woman I know, Tiffany Anne Bramble. You are absolutely gorgeous and I love you.”
She stared at me. Her hands slid between my arms, cradling my face like mine were hers. With a tug, she pulled me down, lips parting under mine, hungry and insistent. Our tongues danced, slipping around each other. The connection between us charged. She made a small sound in her throat and it shot through me like an arrow.
My hands tightened, pulling her close. Her breasts brushed my chest, the point of her nipples sliding wet and hard against my skin. My head swam as we pressed close, nothing between us but the slick wet of the shower. Our skin touched in one long line of heat from thigh to chest. My hands slid down her back, slipping in the water that ran. My fingers tracing down her spine made her shiver against me, the fine tremble setting me on fire. My hand cupped her ass, fingers slipping under the crease at the top of her thigh.
Her leg rose, sliding over my hip. Her face was open and uncovered. She smiled at me, eye heavy-lidded with desire. Reaching up, she pushed the showerhead to the side, turning the stream toward the wall. It still provided steam and heat but wasn’t a distraction. Her smile widened as she flexed her leg, pulling me tight against her.
My knees nearly buckled as I brushed her, the head of me swollen and hard. Her hips tilted, seeking me, rubbing herself over my hardness. Her teeth found the side of my throat as my cock found her entrance.
Bracing against the wall, I leaned in. Slick and warm, I barely slipped inside as she lifted her other leg over my hip. Her ankles locked tight behind me.
Surging forward, I drove in with one long, slow thrust. She was tight around me, hips flexing as I pushed in. Pleasure shot up my spine, my skin tingling with it in a trembling electric thrill. Inch by delicious inch, I slid until I was fully seated inside her. We hung like that, staying lost in the sensation. She pulsed around me, each tremble shooting pleasure deep inside. No space existed between us.
Her teeth left my skin, voice throaty and breathless. “Come on, baby.”
My chest hummed with a growl. I felt wicked as I looked down at her. Wanton. I flexed my hips, drawing back, dragging out of her slowly. Tight, wet, and hot, she milked against me, pulling at me greedily. Small sounds came from her throat with the delicious friction. I stopped just one scant movement from breaking the connection. Desire crackled between us. Both of us froze, both enjoying the sensation of me just inside. We rode the wave of pleasure between us.
A roll of her spine rocked her hips. My eyes shut as pleasure rippled through me. I thrust, hips rolling and bucking. Each move she made built the tension in my core. We were connected where our bodies joined, my pleasure and her pleasure weaving together. Bliss pooled in the center of me, swirling around itself, building pressure. She hung on me, hands tight on my shoulders, legs tight around my waist. Her face pressed against my chest as I drove in and out.
My hands found her hips, fingers closing, pulling her down tight against me. I bucked up, arching back, lifting her, driving a moan out of her to match my own. She was tight around me, body clenching against my hardness. We moved faster, pleasure riding us, pushing us into a frenzy. Both of us raced toward climax, her thighs trembling under my fingers. I gave one last thrust as I poured over the edge, orgasm exploding inside me, pleasure washing my mind empty. She cried out as her own orgasm took her. Both of us rode the wave to the end.
Slowly, we slipped apart, her legs lowering to the tiled floor of the shower. I held her as she stood to her feet, still pressed against me. Connected. We leaned on each other, catching our breath. I kissed her forehead as her lips found the pulse under my jaw. Her hand pressed against my chest, pushing me back a step. She smiled up at me, face open and unhidden.
I smiled back. “That was wonderful.”
“Yes, it was.” She pulled me down to a kiss. It was warm and sweet. She stepped past me to the door of the shower. Looking over her shoulder at me, she pushed it open. Cool air swirled past her to raise gooseflesh on my legs. “Finish your shower, you dirty old man. We still have work to do.”
I reached out for the soap, smile still plastered on my face.
29
I opened the bedroom door to a crowd of people. The hallway outside my room is fairly narrow, so everyone was bunched up, pressed against each other. The first person in that group stood, fist in the air, about to knock.
She blinked at me with mismatched eyes: one ice blue, the other peat-moss brown. They sat in a face that was pale and creamy skinned. Eastern Europe was stamped on her features, like her name should be Olga or Helga, something that ended in a “ga” sound and came from a country that spoke Russian. Hair swirled around her head in a russet tangle, unbrushed since her change.
“Sophia.”
Her face broke into a smile that was warm but didn’t erase the worry lines on her forehead. “Deacon.” She reached out to hug me. “Thank you for coming to get us earlier.”
I touched my brow in a sarcastic salute. “Shucks, ma’am, tweren’t nuthin; besides, you were just a few seconds away from kicking their asses.” In the hallway behind her were the three kids. They looked up at me with three blue eyes and three brown eyes between them, regarding me solemnly. The cub child sat between his brothers. A long pink tongue lolled out of his muzzle in a pant. On his right the halfWere child pulled at his green shirt with retracted claws, fidgeting against the sensation of cloth over his fur-covered body. The human child on the left looked at me without blinking. He stood on slightly bowed legs, little boy belly poking out as his back swayed so he could look up.
I smiled down. “Hey, kids.”
“Hey, Unca Deacon.”
“How are y’all doing?”
“We’re mad.”
I knelt down so that I was mostly eye level with the human brother. “Oh yeah? Who are you mad at?” Unblinking. “Selene.”
Without standing up, I turned to Sophia. “Did you tell them who was after you?”
A shake of her head. “I have no idea what’s going on.
That’s why I’m here. I don’t know anyone named Selene.” Hmmmmmm.
I turned back to the child standing before me. The eyes were the same—two different colors, wide, unblinking— but the face was different. Now it was covered in short fur that ran up into manelike hair. His nose had shifted, the nasal bones elongated into a short muzzle over lips gone thin and cleft in the center.
They had switched forms. It was the same child, they hadn’t moved, but they had shifted in that moment when neither me nor Sophia was looking. They did that. Turn your back, look away, hell, just blink, and when you looked back they would be in different forms.
It was just as spooky as it sounds.
Sophia knelt down beside me. The tight spacing made her leg press against mine. “Gideon, who told you about this Selene woman?”
Unblinking eyes turned toward her. The voice was gruffer, deepened by the change in throat and mouth. “Nobody told us.” Tiny, chubby, fur-covered hands reached up to cup Sophia’s face. “We won’t let
her hurt you, Mommy.” The hands fell on her.
It was like someone flipped a switch on a circuit. My vision wiped away in a flash of golden light. Whitehot power swept through Sophia, cutting into me from the patch of skin where her thigh pressed against mine. It boiled over me, singing through my veins. The world jolted, everything sparkling with clarity, sharper than it was before. Sophia’s head was thrown back, eyes fluttering under shuttered lids. Her son gleamed with a white-gold light that spilled out of his eyes. His brothers had the same burning aura, the same glowing eyes.
As one, their heads turned. They spoke, the trio of voices cutting through me in a metallic vibrato of perfect sync.
“I will be there when the blade sings and the cord cuts.” The three of them blinked in unison and the power shut off like the slam of a door.
Sophia and I fell apart, breaking our connection. She looked at me, her mismatched eyes wide and out of focus. “What just happened?”
Your kids were being spooky as hell, that’s what just happened.
I helped her stand on shaky legs and move down the stairs. The three kids trailed behind us, silent, their footsteps in perfect unity.
Great, one more thing for me to watch out for.
30
By the time we reached the bottom of the stairs, Sophia didn’t need my hand on her arm. The kids broke free, running past us as we reached the floor. I watched them sideways. They seemed normal, all indication of the superspooky gone. Tumbling, they wrestled on the floor like normal kids were supposed to. Yes, only one of them looked human, but besides that . . .
In my world, normal is a relative term.
The stairs dumped us out in the backstage area of the club. This was where the girls relaxed between sets. The room was long, the carpet on the floor thick and heavily padded. When you spend most of your night in heels, the first thing you want to do is kick those bastards off.
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