by Eileen Wilks
"Glad to hear it, since this isn't any of your business." His eyes were hot, and some of that heat was temper. "She needs this. And by God, so do I." He ran one hand down Cynna's arm to take her hand, and tugged. "Come on."
She did, though it was hard to say who led who to the connecting door to her room.
"Cynna?" That was Lily again, worrying.
"It's okay," she said without looking back. "He's a jerk, but he's right. After all, I didn't get any fight therapy, did I?"
He pulled her through the door, closed it behind them.
The room was small, the walls a neutral green, the bed a tidy rectangle a few feet away. Her heart pounded madly in her throat. Why didn't he just grab her? She was expecting that—the quick heat, a rough climb, maybe some ripped clothes. She wanted it.
Instead he put his hands on her arms. "They don't get it," he said softly. "You hit your biggest fear today, didn't you? This time the demon swallowed you."
"Hey." She jerked away. "If I'd wanted talk, I'd have stayed in the other room."
He ignored that. "Blood, sex, power. That's the price demons ask of a rider, isn't it, shetanni rakibul One or all of those things."
He knew too much. That's why she wasn't going to do this. She remembered that now. She didn't want anyone knowing those things about her. She fumbled for the door.
"Cynna." His hand on her arm stopped her. "You didn't pay for the ride, so it wasn't yours. You couldn't have stopped him from doing what he did. You didn't pay. You are not responsible."
She shuddered, rounding on him. "You don't get it, either! It wasn't him smashing Freddie up against the wall, it was us't We slurped his blood until she—the master—made us stop. I felt it all; not just the physical parts, but everything he felt—and he liked doing that. It was—it felt good!"
"You felt what the demon felt." His hands on her cheeks weren't gentle or soothing. They trapped her, making her look at him. "But you felt other things, too. Horror—fear—"
God. Oh, God. She squeezed her eyes closed. "I tried. I tried so hard."
"You didn't pay. You weren't in charge, so you couldn't change things." His hands left her face—and closed over her breasts. "You won't be in charge now, either."
"What?" Her eyes popped open. "I don't need some macho bullshit—"
"Yes. You do." He ran his thumbs over the tips of her breasts.
"What you called fight therapy… We didn't take Rule outside because we like bruises, his or ours. We took him out there to lose it. He has formidable control, but control is a two-edged blade. He was bleeding inside from holding on to it too tightly."
His thumbs were making her dizzy. Or maybe his words were. She shook her head, certain there was a flaw in his logic.
"Sometimes you have to lose control to get it back. And it's okay to turn loose with me. You can't hurt me."
Memories squeezed inside her, so tight it was hard to breathe. "You can be hurt. You'd heal, but you can be hurt."
He shook his head. "Not by you, not here and now. I'm too much stronger. Faster. You won't hurt me, and God knows you won't shock me. Want to go for a little bondage?"
Quick as a thought, he gathered her hands and pinned them behind her with one hand. His other hand was busy with her breast. She sucked in a breath. "No." Her voice came out harsh. "I just want to fuck. Hard and fast."
At last he quit talking.
His mouth was full of demands. He scooped her up and carried her to the bed, his mouth making those demands the whole way. Then he dropped her. She hit the bed, bounced, and was reaching for the buttons on her shirt before she finished bouncing.
He stripped quickly, efficiently—and she had one pang of regret, because she'd love to see him take his time with that.
But not tonight. Tonight she didn't want to think. She wanted to—was desperate to—feel human, to forget what she'd experienced as a silent rider in a demon's body.
He came to her naked and fully aroused, which was a major distraction, because then she needed to get her hands all over that stunning body. She needed to taste the skin he brought to her.
He needed her clothes off. And he was right. He was a lot stronger, and she wasn't in charge.
Buttons popped as he yanked her shirt off. He shoved her bra up out of his way and lowered his head to suck. And that was good, that was incredible, the slow liquid tugs in her belly making her moan.
She put her hands in his hair to hold him there, but the perverse man immediately decided to wander across to her other breast, then down the center of her body to her navel, where the band of her trousers stopped him.
"Damn," he muttered. "You've still got clothes on."
She laughed. It just struck her as terribly funny, and she laughed when she would have sworn she couldn't—but he caught the laugh with his mouth, his hands busy now with her bra, unfastening it. "Get the rest of it off," he told her. "I want to see. You smell fantastic, but I want to see, too."
So she wiggled out of slacks and panties, and he looked and smiled, dazzling her. "You've got an incredible body, Wonder Woman, but I'm not a patient man." He crawled on top of her and kissed her, put his hand between her legs. And was still kissing her when he thrust inside.
She felt that all the way to her scalp. It had been a long, long time since a man came inside her naked like this, but with a lupus lover she didn't need a condom. She was on the pill, and he couldn't catch or transmit a disease.
She was safe, he was safe. It felt wonderful.
She dug her fingers into his shoulders and pushed back with her hips, and he gave her the fast and furious ride she'd asked for. They found each other's rhythm quickly, as if they'd done this a dozen times, and lust shot off skyrockets in her belly. Her body burned with it, the wonderful living heat of passion. When she felt her climax coming, she almost wanted to stop, to wait, to make it last—
Too late. She bucked once and smashed through a blinding orgasm.
He was still going. "Not… patient," he panted, and he even grinned. "But I've been… practicing…" He punctuated that with a rolling thrust that made her gasp. "… awhile."
Over the next several minutes he showed her how good an impatient but well-practiced man could be. When he finally came, she was on her third climax and he was on his knees with her legs hooked over his shoulders. She damn near melted.
He did collapse, right on top of her, his chest heaving. And that was lovely, she thought once a few of those destroyed neurons regenerated enough to rub up a thought. Lovely to know he was wrecked, too. Lovely to lie close like this, all sweaty and limp, their legs tangled together, her hand free to stroke his back…
A jolt went through his body. He jerked his head up, staring at her with—what? Shock? Horror? Something awful, because… God, those were tears. Tears filling his eyes.
"What is it?" she whispered, terrified without knowing what could possibly be so wrong.
Slowly his expression changed, though she still couldn't read it. He raised up on one elbow and ran his hand down her body, his gaze following it, until hand and gaze both rested on her belly. "Lady," he whispered. "Oh, Lady. Thank you."
This was getting weird. She'd had men thank her for sex, but not like this. "You're freaking me out here, Cullen."
"I'm… pretty freaked myself." He raised his head, looked her in the eyes. His were all shiny and wet. "You're carrying my baby."
She heard the words, but for a long moment they stayed stuck on the surface of her brain. She couldn't attach any meaning to them.
All at once they sank in. "Get off." She shoved at him.
Obligingly he rolled off and just lay there, grinning at her. Blissed. The asshole was blissed out, and she was—"You're nuts," she told him, getting off the bed. Grabbing up clothes with hands that shook. "I'm on the pill. I'm not pregnant, and even if I were, you wouldn't know. Not—"
"It's given to us to know." He sat up, and Lord, he made her breath catch in her throat with that simple movement. And he was ha
ppy, damn him. So happy.
It terrified her, that happiness of his.
"I'd given up," he said. "Years ago, I gave up thinking I'd ever… But you're carrying my baby."
The knock on the door made her jump. "What?" she called. "We're a little busy here."
Rule's voice: "Jiri called. We have to go. Now."
THIRTY-FIVE
THE Suburban shot through a yellow light to the blare of car horns. Lily ignored that. Her thoughts were harder to ignore.
She'd learned long ago to cram the personal stuff in a box and sit on the lid when she was working. Cops had to be able to do that, or they couldn't do the job. But the personal was so tangled up with the job this time there was no way to separate them. Rule's life was at stake. Toby's life was at stake. And Cullen and Cynna had picked this time to turn weird on her.
"I'm getting a hint of direction," Cynna said from the backseat. "East and a bit north."
Cynna had done a cast before they got in the Suburban and found that Jiri was blocking her. Apparently that was possible, given enough knowledge and power. Jiri had the knowledge and a demon to draw on for power, but she couldn't block her former student completely. Cynna knew roughly how far away she was, and was beginning to pick up her direction.
"That matches," Cullen said crisply. "The park's northeast of us."
Rock Creek Park. That's where Jiri said she'd meet them, at a stone bridge in the park. She must have read the kidnappers' tip sheet: tell the victims not to contact the cops or the FBI. Give them a tight time limit to respond to your demands. They had twenty minutes to get there.
Cullen knew where the park was. He wasn't sure about the bridge, but they'd find it… and her. They had Cynna for that.
"Right at the next light," Cullen said.
And there was one of those personal cords tugging at her. Something was going on with Cullen and Cynna. Not the sex— that had been inevitible, and if it had made Lily uncomfortable for them to go at it in the next room, that was probably her problem. But Cullen was behaving strangely. When they came out of the bedroom he'd grabbed Rule and told him something—speaking under the tongue, dammit, and the stupid mate bond was not giving Lily that kind of hearing anymore. Whatever he'd said, it had made Rule grab Cullen and hug him hard.
Cullen's years as a lone wolf had made him less easy about touch than most lupi, and Rule's position as Lu Nuncio and heir had done something of the same for him. And men might give a buddy a backslap or punch on the shoulder for scoring, but a hug?
Besides, Rule wasn't a scorekeeper. She hadn't thought Cullen was, either. And Toby's life was at stake, dammit. So it hadn't been about sex.
"I still think we should stop for ammo." She'd lost the argument about stopping at a cop shop to pick up reinforcements. If Jiri was a farseer, that was too dangerous. But they hadn't been told to come unarmed. They had the rifles they'd brought with them from Leidolf, but no reloads.
"If Jiri's there on her own, we won't need extra ammo," Cynna said. "If she's got her overgrown friend with her, rifles won't help."
"Only if we can't separate them." That was the plan, such as it was.
If Jiri did offer them a deal, they'd hear her out. Cynna said a demon master had enough demon stuff inside her that she could be bound by her word, just like a demon, if you knew how. Cynna knew how.
But Lily was expecting an attack, not a deal. If they were attacked, they couldn't use deadly force on the demon unless they could be sure of not killing Jiri along with it. She'd know that. She'd be counting on it. But Cynna could hit the demon with her spell—which, it turned out, stopped demon hearts. This one had multiple hearts, so the spell might not kill it, but it would probably go dashtu. If it did, it would be physically separated from its master. Cullen could throw mage fire at it while Rule and Lily went after Jiri.
An optimist might say the plan left them room to improvise. A pessimist would call it full of holes.
"Too late to change our minds now," Cullen said. "That's it on the right."
The place was closed, of course. It was nearly nine. They parked the Suburban in the empty lot and climbed out.
The temperature had plunged after the sun set. The air was raw with cold and damp, with just enough of a breeze to make things worse. Lily shivered and zipped her jacket, settled the rifle comfortably on her arm, and started for the gate with Rule and Cynna.
Cullen was already there. "What do you know—they forgot to lock it." The gate swung open at his touch.
That was another way Cullen could be handy. He was good with locks. Lily had never asked how and why he'd aquired that particular sorcerous talent. Some things it was better not to know.
She looked up at Rule. "You okay?"
The overhead lights of the parking lot picked out the sharp blades of his cheekbones and limned his mouth, but his eyes were shadowed, no more than a liquid gleam in the darkness. He slid a hand over her nape and into her hair, answering her with his touch and a smile.
"I've got her," Cynna said suddenly. "I've got a Find on her now. She's here physically, not just riding her demon."
"And the demon?" Lily said.
"He's around, but…" She shook her head. "I think he's dashtu and not too far from Jiri, but I'm not sure. I'm sorry. Holding two Finds is tricky."
"Quit apologizing," Cullen snapped. "Most Finders can't do two Finds at all."
Sex didn't seem to have turned them into lovers. Not in any conventional sense, at least. But what about either of them was conventional?
They passed through the gate into the park.
They'd debated splitting up, but in the end decided they were too small a party for that, especially since demons were hard to sneak up on. Rule or Cullen might have managed it in wolf form, but both needed to remain two-footed. Rule had to be able to speak if Jiri did want to make a deal, and Cullen couldn't throw fire in his wolf form. So everyone kept together and on two legs as they set off down the path.
Lights on poles made to resemble old-fashioned gas lanterns were spaced at intervals just wide enough to be useless while still ruining her night vision. The path itself was crunchy with gravel and leaves crisped by frost, and Lily's breath plumed white when they entered the circle of light under the first lantern. Overhead, a few stars struggled to penetrate the city haze. The moon hung low, just over the trees to the east, looking like a lump of orange sherbet. It was still a week from full.
Their path turned before reaching the creek to run parallel to it, separated by a fringe of small trees. Lily heard it lapping against its banks, slapping around the rocks in its bed. She thought she could hear her heart pounding, too. God knew she could feel it.
She was terrified.
Rule would know that, as would Cullen. They'd smell it on her. That bugged her, but it fell on the list of things she couldn't do a damned thing about. Not that she was ashamed of being afraid; that was a sane response to facing a demon. She acknowledged the feeling and put it away. Worse by far was the fear she couldn't speak.
What if Jiri wanted to trade Toby's life for Rule's? Would he agree?
Would she try to stop him?
Don't fight a battle that isn't joined, she told herself, and moved ahead as silently as she could.
"Wards ahead," Cullen said softly.
Rule stopped. "What kind?" he asked in a barely there voice.
"Not the keep-us-out sort, but she'll know we're here. I can disable them without her knowing, but it will take time."
"How much?"
"Ten minutes, maybe."
Which would put them over the time limit. Lily didn't think Jiri would kill Toby if they were a few minutes late; he was too valuable to her. But it wasn't a chance she wanted to take.
Neither did Rule. "Then we'll ring her doorbell before entering." He moved on.
They didn't bother being quiet after that. Their path veered slightly away from the creek, skirting a large, rocky outcropping. Trees had just closed in overhead, their branches scratchin
g each other in the breeze, when Cynna spoke quietly. "She's just past those evergreens, about ten yards away."
Rule held up a hand. They stopped in the shadows beneath the trees. He tilted his head up—scenting the air, Lily realized. But the wind blew the wrong way.
After a moment he shrugged. "We may as well keep our appointment." He moved forward.
Their path had led them true, right to the stone bridge. A tall woman dressed in black sat smack in the center of the bridge's arch. Her skin was so dark it blended into her clothing—a leather catsuit, black and form-fitting. She was easy to spot, though. No trees arched out over the bridge to block the moonlight, and one of those fake gaslights was on the other side of the bridge.
She stood. "You may as well come out of the trees. As you see…" She gestured widely. "I am alone."
"Not entirely." That was Cynna, her voice hard. "Your familiar is on the other side of the creek."
"Cynna," she murmured. "How you hate me. I am sorry for that. In so many ways, though, you wouldn't be here if not for me, would you? Yes, Tish is near, but I had him wait at enough of a distance that you would know you could escape him, if necessary. I need your help."
Rule's laugh was harsh and brief. "You've an odd way of asking for it."
"I'll admit," she said, walking slowly to the near end of the bridge, "that I wanted to control the situation. I trust you no more than you do me. You think I'm behind the attacks on the heirs. Cynna has no doubt convinced you I am evil."
"You killed my men. You enspelled my son. What do you call yourself?"
"Desperate." That came out flat and oddly convincing.
"What do you want?" Lily asked, her own voice as expressionless as she could make it.
Jiri looked at her. Lily felt the unmistakable tug of a shared gaze and knew the woman saw better than average in the dark. Better than human? Cynna said she had a fair amount of demon stuff in her. "Lily Yu. Do you love your lover's son?"
The question rocked her out of her professional detachment— as, no doubt, it was intended to do. Did she love Toby?
She'd only begun to know the boy, so some of what she felt for him was more readiness to love than a feeling centered on