Horrified, I squeeze her hand. But there’s nothing I can say to ease this. She’s right. We don’t know how much they stole from her or how far it’s traveled. A man like Resnikov would have backup plans. He’d have business partners. Friends.
Margot shifts and buries her face in the pillow, her hair falling around her in a tangled mess. I can feel her heart beating, wild like a trapped bird’s. I catch myself wondering if we’ll ever be uncaged from this mess.
“But what if we could make a cure? A real cure? With both our blood? Then no one would want their snake oil.”
It’s then that I feel it, like a door closing inside of myself.
“I-I want to be alone for a while,” she murmurs. I touch her hair, my heart breaking for both of us. But she doesn’t want my comfort. “Please.”
I nod. Pain lances me, sharp needles of it stabbing me in the heart. That’s one thing she’s never done before, neither of us has. We’ve never made each other be alone until now.
I don’t realize I’m crying until I walk into my bedroom. A candle is lit, though I barely register it before Jared is there, grasping my arms.
“What’s wrong?” If I didn’t know better, I would say he was angry.
I swipe at my eyes. “Nothing.”
But he’ll not be swayed. “Why won’t you tell me?” He leads me over to the chair, which is still warm from the imprint of his body. He’s been here a while, I reckon. And as I take a moment to register those facts, he pulls me down into the chair, me across his lap, as he soothes his hand down my hair. “What’s wrong?” he says again. Only this time it’s just above a whisper and filled with something I’d as soon call desperate.
But Jared doesn’t get desperate. Jared is a merc, a soldier. My mind is too busy to work out what’s happening as he runs fingertips light as rain across my cheek, erasing a track of tears.
“Lu.” His lips are so close to mine, so hot and warm. I can smell the faint waft of cinnamon on his breath even if I can’t make out much more than a black T-shirt that bunches under my fingertips. Jared’s eyes are hooded from the light of the candle, fathomless orbs that hold me still. Then, with his eyes still holding me, his lips come down.
He looks as surprised as I feel as the spark dances between us, an instant inferno. His absurdly long lashes flutter over his eyes once, twice, covering the spark of his eyes. His lips part as I press into him again, curling my fingers in the wavy softness of his hair as I bring myself back for more.
At first I can feel him holding back, as though he’s afraid to break me. But I’ve already broken once this evening. I can’t break any further. I bite his bottom lip, sucking it into my mouth. Jared moans, and my stomach curls and clenches. He pulls his fingers through my hair on either side of my face, tilting it to the right before bringing his lips back down onto mine.
He kisses me like a man starved of oxygen. Heat fills my veins, and I moan into his mouth. His tongue snakes into my mouth, hot and demanding. I want more, need more. I grab at his shoulders, willing him to press more deeply, take more.
One of Jared’s hands skirts up under my shirt. His fingers trill against the soft flesh of my side, and my back arches. He pulls his lips from mine and runs hot kisses up and down my neck, nipping at the spot behind my ear. I gasp. His mouth comes down again, wild as a starved animal.
He pulls back a moment after his hand touches the soft bud of my breast. His eyes are mesmerizing, stormy emeralds. I’ve never seen a man as beautiful as Jared Price. His lips are slightly swollen as his glazed eyes try to focus. “What are you doing to me, Lu?” He runs a light finger across my bottom lip, then my top. I nip my tongue out, surprised by my own brashness. As is he, I realize, when his eyes widen then narrow, as though he’s just figured out we’re not yet certain who’s the hunter and who’s the prey.
“You keep doing that, Princess, and I won’t be responsible for my actions.”
I keep my eyes on him until I’m close to his ear and then indulge myself, running my lips up the hot, tangy flesh of his neck. I take his earlobe into my mouth, enjoying beyond measure the strangled sounds he makes. His fingers tighten on my body. Good, I think. This is definitely not one-sided. And best of all, it drowns out everything else: Margot’s pain, my own, the weight of the world. Suddenly I feel in control and I feel out of control. And I want more.
“What if I don’t want you to be responsible for your actions?” I purr, continuing to lick my way back down his neck to the tender bone of his collar. I can feel him, his desire pulsing against me in time to the rhythm of his heartbeat. I can feel my blood call to his. I have never wanted anything so much as to feel the skin of his chest against mine.
Jared slowly closes his eyes. A pained expression falls across his features, turning the shallow planes of his cheekbones to stone. Hot skeins of embarrassment roll through me as Jared holds me at bay.
“Oh. I’m doing it wrong.”
“Oh, Gods, Lu. Oh, holy Plague Fire you are so not doing it wrong.” Jared takes a jagged breath. Another. He swallows hard, his body tense and still. Then he holds my face in his hands with such tenderness I could cry. “How could you even think such nonsense?” I want to get angry, lash out, but there’s such genuine confusion in his eyes. And something else, something I’m not sure I have a name for, that thrills me to my toes.
“What, then?”
“You know,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to mine. Like we can share sensation that way.
“No,” I tell him, genuinely bewildered. The tears gather another storm and are set to loose. “I don’t know.”
He breathes me in. I can feel him pulling in each tangle of scent, the taste of our mouths mingling, our heated skin. “I’m about to get carried away, Lu. I am about a hairsbreadth from losing control of myself.”
My eyelashes tremble, skating against his skin. “I think that’s what I want to happen right now,” I confess. “Just right now. Just tonight.” I tangle a finger in his hair. Bold as daylight, I pull his lips down to mine, exploring the contours, the ridges of his fine, fine lips. Jared lets loose a gasp and rears back.
There’s a note of hysteria in his voice as he says, “What are you doing to me, Lu?”
I can’t help but smile. I’ve never felt so powerful as right now. But when I come to kiss him again, he grabs at my wrists and holds me at bay. Jared’s eyes are hot coals, burning into my flesh.
His voice is a hoarse whisper. “I want to—”
A knock sounds at the door. Jared and I stare at each other, wondering if whoever is on the other side of that door—especially in a house full of True Borns—can hear the clatter of our hearts. The knock sounds again, insistent and dense against the wood of the door.
“Just a second,” I call out shakily. I climb from Jared’s lap and arrange my skirt, which has hiked up considerably. I watch as Jared runs his fingers through his hair, neatly pulling the blond strands back in place. He reaches over, a small smile tugging at his lips, and corrects some locks of my own hair.
Jared nods, and I turn and open the door. Shane has propped his shoulder up against the doorframe, the knotted work of his arm tattoo bending out of shape as he leans forward. “Lucy, I wanted to ask you about—” He stops as Jared silently comes up behind me. “What are you doing here?” Shane doesn’t look happy.
Jared gives Shane an unholy grin. “Hopefully same as you. Security issue,” he explains with a nod toward me.
I roll my eyes as Shane bristles. “Sorry, Shane, was there something you specifically needed? Jared was just leaving, and I’m tired.” I’ve seen that look before. Shane the hunter. Shane the merc. But he’s no match for Jared Price. “Shane?” I prompt.
“It can wait.” He drawls out the words slowly, as though expecting one of them to detonate. “Jared, can I have a word? When you’re through, of course.” No one could miss the sarcasm.
Jared’s eyes burn across my skin like a fleeting kiss. “Sure.” He shrugs. The careless, casual death de
aler is back. “Just give me a second to catch Lu up on some orders.”
Shane takes a step but doesn’t exactly give us any privacy. Jared’s hands tighten around my arms as he pulls me behind the door. His heat presses against me, my head swimming with his nearness. For a moment I think he’s going to say something as he gazes at me with a lost look in his eye. But then his lips come down, scraping against my lips. Lightning heat ignites between us again. His chest heaves as he struggles to stay in control. Hands come up to cup my face, and when he pulls back, those eyes of his are embers again. Bright. Hot. Wanting me.
Jared gulps air. My stomach pitches and rolls. I find my hands on his arms, anchoring myself in place as the room spins. And a distinct cough in the hall signals that our time is up.
Lips brush mine a final time, too much like air, and then he’s tickling against the tender flesh of my ear. “We’ll finish this discussion later, Princess,” he warns. His teeth graze my earlobe, and I shiver as his lips press the soft spot under my ear. “And it’s going to be a long talk.” There’s a flash of mischief in his eyes, a tilt of a smile as a dimple appears.
And then the panther man is out the door. His light footsteps ring in the hallway, followed by the heavy tread of Shane’s dusty black boots.
…
It’s a frosty morning, but all the ice I feel is being thrown by my father’s man. Former man, I remind myself as I stand by the breakfast table receiving the cold shoulder from him. He’s no employee of my father’s now. Yet he’ll censure me just the same, keep me in the same prisonlike box that Margot and I lived in our entire lives. You’ll be friends with who we say you can be friends with, girls. We will decide which boys you date. Shane keeps his back to me, his whole body spitting sparks. Margot furiously rubs at her knee and raises an eyebrow. What the hell is going on?
And that’s all it takes. Between one heartbeat and the next I realize I’m not interested in that box any longer. I’ll not sit idly by and be told I’m not behaving well enough for the Upper Circle or for my parents, who abandoned us. Not by Shane. Not by anyone.
“Lucy.” Storm breezes in, distracting me. His body is solid and yet, like always, it’s hard to look at him. This morning he’s dressed in a casual suit. Blue linen. But the gray-white of his eyes tells me that something has happened. “Come and join me in my office for a few minutes?” His smile is small, not entirely welcoming. I don’t like the sudden tremble that takes over my body.
At the table, Margot shoots me a look she doesn’t use much on me. What the hell have you done?
I shrug and slide away from the kitchen, following in Storm’s wake.
“Did I do something I’m not aware of?” I start the moment I step into his office.
He turns slowly to face me. “No.” A genuine smile cracks across his face, warm and welcoming. “Has someone given you that impression?”
“Maybe.” I bite my lip. “I don’t know,” I admit, “things seem strange this morning.”
Storm nods and gestures to the couch. “I understand. Sit down, Lucy.” He doesn’t lean against his desk or stand at the window as he normally does but comes to sit beside me. His hands rest on the cream leather and idly, as my mind sifts through the number of catastrophes that could have occurred while I slept, I study his hands. They are long and solid, large but not overwhelming, strong but not overly callused. His fingernails are clean and blunt. It occurs to me that I’ve never thought to wonder at Storm, at whether his body changes shape the way Jared’s can.
“We have a situation.” I can see from the winter in his eyes that I’m not going to like it. My stomach churns as my imagination takes over. What could it be now? “With Nash rejecting the creation of a council, I think I’m going to have to go another route to get everybody on board and talking.”
Oh. I’d been expecting this conversation, at least, for days now. Without the Upper Circle’s support, Storm doesn’t stand a chance of forming a council. He’ll need senators on his side to obtain that goal.
Storm crosses his elegant ankles, hitching his pants legs up a little. He frowns down at his leather-clad feet for a moment before looking up and holding my gaze.
“I need you to keep an open mind on this, Lucy,” he says softly. His lips pucker into a sour smile before softening, the skin around his eyes creasing into deep laugh lines. Does Storm laugh? The notion is an odd one.
I nod. “Okay.” And I’m sure I can, until he utters the words that can never be taken back, never erased, never understood.
“Peace is not going to happen without our help. I still think it can be achieved, but we need more ammunition—we need to make a formal alliance. So I propose,” he drawls, the words echoing in my ears like shots fired, “that we marry.”
Marry.
“Marry. As in, the union of marriage?”
Storm’s lips twitch. “Is there another kind?”
Most young women my age would not bat an eyelash at Storm’s proposal. I’m nearing nineteen, the time when most Upper Circle are ushered into political matrimony. In a majority of the cases, the groom is chosen from among a father’s cronies. They’re often much older than the young lady. Far older than Storm is. And Storm, at least, is handsome, kind and powerful. But do I want him as my husband?
I look down at my hands, clasped bloodless in my lap, and rehearse the lines every girl from the Upper Circle has memorized since their tender ages. “I am very sensible of the honor you do me…”
But Storm is not a fool. Not like so many others. “No dissimulation, Lucy,” he cracks out. The floating wreath rising from his head becomes a tantalizing shade of silver-blue, until I can almost reach out and touch the bony fingers. “I realize there is an age gap between us. And it’s an unusual situation, given that I’m also acting as your guardian. But the proposal I seek is a political alliance. This would be a marriage of convenience if that’s what you’d wish. Do you have any other objections?”
Does he really not know? I feel sick as my mind fills with Jared. That shock of blond hair that fell over his eyes just before his lips arched down, burning me. His hands tangling in my hair, running down my back until I dissolved. How would I even tell Jared?
“My parents—” I begin, but Storm cuts me off with an impatient swipe of his hand.
“Your parents. If they were here, they would want you to make the most advantageous match you could, one that would ensure the future of the Upper Circle and, by extension, Dominion. That is me. In part I’m doing this to help ensure that you and Margot have the brightest future possible.”
“How do you know my parents would approve?” I ask, genuinely curious. “They’ve made it clear in the past what they think of True Borns.”
Storm leans in slowly. I fight the urge to draw back at the swirling intensity that gathers around him. “I don’t know they would approve. But I am well aware of what’s happening out there, Lucy. As are you. The balance of power is shifting.”
Nervous, I wet my lips before continuing. “That’s just it. How do you know an alliance with me will make things better? The longer our father stays away, the more the Fox twins are likely to become Upper Circle pariahs.”
“Right again.” Storm nods. “It’s not a certainty that your social connections will hold up.” If there’s one thing I admire about Storm, it’s that he cuts to the chase.
“But then—”
“Lucy,” he cuts in, not impatiently but with the confidence of a man destined to win. “I’ve been fairly clear all the way. The Lasters’ time is almost over. The Splicers will not be able to keep things going. They are going to need us working together. You think things are bad now? Just wait until their numbers dwindle even more,” Storm promises. “Picture what the Lasters will do when the preachers and their followers figure out we’re all facing an ‘end of days’ scenario. You think some gunmen at Grayguard or the Watchers we’ve seen are all you’ll get? Picture it, Lucy.”
And I can picture it. I see in my mind the Lasters
sitting at the council table, their eyes sharp and hollowed with wild grief. I think about the bodies that have been not picked up lately, the rubble on the streets. The squadron of hazmat suits. We’ve always prided ourselves, Margot and I, on the fact that we’ve not turned a blind eye to what’s happening in Dominion and across the world. But I wonder now if somewhere along the way I’ve shut down—if we both have?
Still puzzled, I ask, “What could you gain, then, by marrying me?”
Storm remains still as the sky, but I can feel the power coiling and gathering around him like an electrical storm. Then he smiles, and it’s as though the sun has blinked out. “I think you and your sister are very special.”
I mull this over. “Why not Margot?”
“Margot has been through a lot, and she’s not as strong as you. She needs time to recover.”
I’m shocked to hear him say this, even though secretly I’ve thought the same thing. “Are you in a rush?”
Storm folds his hands on his lap. “The sooner we create an alliance, the sooner we build a power base that stands a chance of ousting idiots like Nash from power.”
Still, it’s not a reason to marry the man sitting before me. The man I’d grown quite comfortable thinking of as my guardian.
“I need time to think,” I tell him honesty, biting my lip. There’s Jared to consider. The thought rolls through my mind like thunder.
But I’ve been raised to understand marriage as a business transaction, a political gambit. Girls from the Upper Circle do not marry for love.
Love. Once the word seeps into my brain, I know it can’t be taken back, can’t be hidden.
I stare at the threshold of my future. It’s become something unrecognizable, something I could never have imagined just a few short months ago. Love or political marriage to a True Born?
Do I love Jared Price?
Yes, a voice whispers, soft as mist.
“Thank you for your offer.” The flat formality customary of the Upper Circle comes out again. “I will think over what you’ve proposed very carefully.”
True Storm Page 15