by Dee, Bonnie
“But how does making the world safer threaten them?” Brenna’s head was starting to hurt even worse. She understood the concept of what Mark was saying, but none of it really made sense, at least not yet. The pieces were there, but she was missing some important piece, something to tie it all together.
“I don’t know,” Mark admitted, shaking his head. “But it’s the only thing that gels, at least for me.”
“While I don’t have any love for KOTE,” Donovan said, “I can’t buy that yet, Mark. What you’re suggesting implies way too much subterfuge. Carlyle Winthrop could have just as easily flown to Boston himself and picked up the Sorhineth. There’s no reason he couldn’t.”
“I can think of a good one,” Brenna said quietly, and the realization hit her like a ton of bricks. If she was right… “What if he’s a Destroyer? If he’s the head of KOTE, he might know I can tell the difference.”
Donovan shook his head slowly. “At this point, anything’s possible. As much as I would like to believe a big, shadowy organization is out to get me, versus some of my best friends betraying me, it’s too circuitous.”
“We need to take a break,” Claire declared with finality. “Too much has happened today, we’ve got too much spinning through our heads. We need time to let it settle, so we don’t go off half-cocked. You’re safe here, and you were right before, Donovan. Mark and I need to go home, put in an appearance. While we can certainly be attacked individually, us being out there won’t raise any eyebrows … it’ll make the Destroyer think it’s just you and Brenna, rather than the four of us, and we can use all the surprise we can get. Plus, there are some books I need to look at. We’ll swing back by later this afternoon, and we can think this through some more.”
Mark looked almost relieved at her suggestion, and Brenna wondered if he’d be back tonight. She wouldn’t blame him if he wasn’t.
* * * *
Donovan closed the door behind his friends and leaned against it for a moment, getting his bearings. Brenna sat on the couch, legs curled beneath her, and for a brutal, blinding moment he saw Jenalee’s fingers curled into her throat, saw sixty years of loneliness without her by his side, saw himself old and bitter and used. And then the flash of the future was gone and he was back in the present, his mate looking at him with a quizzical expression.
He pushed away and strode forward with quick, long strides, his gaze intent on her beautiful face. Only one thing would make him feel whole right now, and that was her in his arms.
When he reached the couch, he pulled her up into his arms and held her, relishing the feel of her soft curves against his hard body. The unmistakable sensuality she projected was just Brenna. She fit perfectly against him. And if she wasn’t ready to accept the reality of mating with him? That was fine, he’d bind her to him physically with passion and work on wooing her mind as they went.
He lowered his lips to hers. She met him willingly, her lips parting beneath his, her tongue first stroking, then demanding as her arms slid around his neck, fusing them together even tighter.
Falling into her, body, heart and soul, was easier and hotter than anything he’d ever imagined. She was pliant against him, burning him as they stood, locked in a full-body embrace.
He walked them into the bedroom, the bed bumping against the back of his knees. He pulled her down, cushioning the impact with his body.
Brenna landed atop him, knees straddling his hips. She laughed, and the sound went straight to his groin. Not that his cock already wasn’t standing at full mast … it had been since he touched her. But her laugh, ah, it was enough to make a man feel strong enough to hold the world at bay.
She leaned down and captured his lips with hers. Her kiss was sweet, almost chaste. He let her set the pace, content to simply be in her arms, even if he burned for more. When she licked at the seam of his lips, he opened his mouth, leisurely taking her inside. It was then he knew this would be a session of lovemaking, not the frenzied mating they’d had in the past.
He settled his hands on her hips, flexing his fingers into the ultra-feminine curves. He felt the curve of her lips as she smiled and pulled away. She reared up over him and peeled her sweatshirt off, revealing the sapphire bra he’d first seen her in. It contrasted magnificently against her fair skin, and in that moment he wanted to eat her up.
She smiled again, the slow smile of a woman who knew exactly what she was doing to him as she reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, letting it slide over her shoulders, then her forearms, before dropping it on his chest.
Then she repeated what she’d said in the motel room in Flagstaff, sliding off him as she did. “You. Naked. Now.”
This time he was more than eager to comply. He watched her shimmy out of her jeans as he peeled off his t-shirt and sweats, then lay back on the bed.
His cock sprang out, eager for her warmth, for the homecoming he knew he’d find in her arms.
And then she was atop him again. Her nipples pebbled, awaiting his touch. Her heat scalded him as she slid her pussy over his cock, teasing them both.
He lunged up, capturing one nipple in his mouth, torturing it with teeth and tongue as her breath hitched and her motion faltered. Then she leaned into him, her juices coating his cock as he nibbled and sucked and savored.
Her hands closed around his biceps, testing strength and density as she threw her head back, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she slid along him, shuddering slightly each time her clit brushed his cock.
Donovan reveled in the loveplay, even as he struggled to restrain himself from tossing her on her back and taking her, hard. Her expression was priceless, timeless. It was pure beauty softened by desire. His heart did a slow roll in his chest, before thumping painfully with possession. She was his, only his.
She rose to her knees. He let go of her breast with profound regret, then found joy as she positioned herself over him, guiding his cock into her clenching heat. He groaned in relief as he slid into her; her velvet muscles grasped him, pulling him deeper until he couldn’t tell where he ended and she began.
Then she started to move, slow, sensual moves that showcased her toned, lithe body, her perfectly proportioned breasts swaying with each thrust.
Donovan clenched his teeth and fought against grabbing her hips and pushing up, up, up into her, and instead held on for the ride of his life.
Brenna dropped down, bracketing his torso with her arms and took his mouth in a hot, hungry kiss which totally belied her languid pace. The heat and possessiveness in her kiss told him everything she’d never said and maybe didn’t even realize. He returned her embrace, tongue tangling with hers furiously as he gave into his urges and began to thrust, meeting her with each downstroke, his cock filling her to the brim. When she reared up again and speared her hands through her hair, giving herself over to the rhythm, he shifted one hand, strumming her clit until she was gasping for breath, her juices flowing over both of them.
He thrust up into her hard and pressed her clit with one thumb. Her muscles contracted around him, and he looked deep into her eyes as she shuddered over him, her eyes filling with tears of completion. Her fair skin was mottled, and he’d never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life. He reached up and brushed a thumb over her bottom lip and exploded as she sucked it into her mouth, biting down hard. He came for what seemed like forever, his body jerking, his cock slamming into her as her teeth scored his thumb. Then her tongue laved away the pain, and in that moment, he knew he’d come home.
* * * *
The temblor rocked the city gently, chafing Donovan’s nerve endings like a rasp. What in the hell was that?
Brenna murmured sleepily at his side, her breath wafting across his bare chest like a caress. “What’s wrong?”
“Just an aftershock. It’s nothing.”
She woke more fully and lifted her eyes to his. “It’s not nothing if it makes you tense up. Talk to me, Donovan.”
He shrugged, not quite sure how to put it into
words. “I felt the earth as it shifted."
“Me too. So what’s the difference?"
“No, I mean I felt it, in my bones, as if they were scraping together.”
“Has this ever happened before?”
“Hell no. I don’t know if I could live here if that happened all the time.”
Brenna propped up on an elbow, letting the sheet fall to her waist. Donovan was momentarily distracted by the sight of her breasts, then pulled his attention back to the matter at hand as she spoke.
“It’s got to have something to do with the Sorhineth. Remember back at the library, when you laughed and the sound picked up the energy of the room? Well, what if the Sorhineth is a kind of amplifier?”
He considered her words for a moment, then shrugged. “You mean in addition to being a book of lore? Makes as much sense as anything else so far. But I don’t like the feeling that mini-quake gave me. It was as if something was horribly wrong with the ground itself.”
Brenna considered him.
“What?”
“I think Claire was right. You’re a much bigger player in this than you’re giving yourself credit for.” She paused, as if wrestling with something, and he could see the decision she made in her eyes. “You need to see something.”
She stood, totally comfortable with her nakedness, and strode into the suite’s main room. Donovan admired her departing heart-shaped ass and contemplated getting up to follow her. She beat him to the punch, though, returning with the journal and Sorhineth.
Settling onto the side of the bed, she opened the tiny book to the place marked by a thin red ribbon, then held it out to him.
Donovan took the diary slowly, not understanding the dread curling through him as his fingers slid over the worn cloth cover.
Spidery handwriting crowded the pages from margin to margin in faded blue script.
My grandfather told me, when he handed down the Sorhineth, what a joy—and burden—it would be. Then he sat me down and told me something I’d never heard before. He spoke of the Talisman—Air, Earth, Fire, Spirit and Water—Terrans who would use their special gift to redeem not only themselves, but their people. One Talisman of each sign will appear when they are needed most by their people and by the world. They will know of their summoning when the fruits of the earth appear before them, and those fruits will enhance their power to the unimaginable. There is a tale, passed down from one who Sees, that the Wardens were put into hiding because the Sorhineth was too great, too important, for any one Terran to hold … until the Spirit Talisman is called. Great Spirit Talismans have included the likes of Aristotle, Newton and Galileo, and once their deed is done, they shall revert back to their normal life, should they choose … if they still live. But in this case, the Seer said, this one Talisman shall lead us back to what we should be.
Donovan stopped reading and raised his eyes to Brenna. “And you pointed this out because…”
“Because I think you’re the Spirit Talisman of our time.”
He laughed, and it was a wonderful feeling. “Ah, Brenna, I do love you. What in the world makes you think I’m in the same league as Aristotle? I’m a bodyguard, nothing more, nothing less.”
She stroked his cheek. “You’re so much more, but I won’t push it. I just wanted you to read what I had, to know where I was coming from.”
He looked into her eyes and saw that she believed, not only in what she’d said, but in him. It was a wholly humbling experience. People had respected him, been afraid of him, wanted him on a sexual level, but had anyone ever believed in him?
He could answer in one word. No.
“I wanted to wait until we were alone to talk about this,” Brenna began, and shifted her gaze to the bedspread, which she began to pick at nervously. “There’s no good way to say this, Donovan. I like you, a lot, but this whole mating thing … I don’t know that I believe in it.”
She paused, and then continued in a rush that had Donovan biting back a grin.
“I love the way we fit together, but I have some serious issues, both with my past and our future, not as lovers, but as Terran and Warden. I’ve had to overcome some serious bias against Terrans over the past few days, and while I’m convinced you and Claire are good guys, I haven’t seen a lot that tells me the rest of the Terrans aren’t the scumbags I’ve been raised to loathe.”
“I didn’t realize you felt that strongly, but I guess I can understand what you’re talking about. It pains me, but I understand. Know this, Brenna, whether your heart and mind know it or not, you are my mate. I’ve no doubt of that. But we can continue as we have, as two people getting to know each other and having spectacular sex while we do.” He grinned lasciviously.
“As friends with benefits?” she asked with an answering smile.
“Definitely. But don’t think I won’t try to sway you to my point of view, and as often as possible.”
“I think I’ll enjoy that.” She smirked, then grew serious. “While we’re talking about relationships…”
Donovan grimaced. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
“And you won’t like the content, but it’s something we need to discuss. We need to talk about Jenalee at some point.” Her voice was low, concerned, compassionate.
Her complete one-eighty stung like salt on an open wound, especially since they’d been talking about much more pleasurable subjects.
“I think we’ve covered the topic more than enough.” He tried to keep his voice light, but knew he hadn’t succeeded … the bitterness and anger crept through.
“I don’t mean her actions, I mean what she did to you, Donovan. You trusted her for almost ninety years, and she repaid your friendship by stabbing you in the back.”
Even though her tone remained the same, it pushed all of his buttons. He didn’t want to talk about Jenalee, but Brenna had been honest with him, so he’d reciprocate, even if his reaction might scare the hell out of her.
“Don’t you think I know that?” Repressed rage pulsed through him, not at Brenna, but at himself. “She fucking played me. I spent years on the battlefield, led men to their deaths, started a business which has made me a millionaire, and I couldn’t see past her lies. How do you think it makes me feel? It makes me feel like a fucking fool, as if I shouldn’t even be here—with you or the Sorhineth. Because if I can’t see the truth about my best friend, how in the hell can I do what I anticipated when I started this?”
“Oh, Donovan.” She laid a soothing hand on his arm, and in doing so, completely diffused his ire. Only a mate could do such a thing, and in that he well and truly lost his heart. “In the life you’ve lived, haven’t you learned the people closest to us are the ones who hurt us the most?”
Any reply he might have made was forestalled by the sound of the door opening in the other room, and the unmistakable stench of evil which could only be attached to a Destroyer, washing over them.
* * * *
The Destroyer’s presence chilled Brenna right down to the roots of her teeth. She dove off the bed, taking the Sorhineth with her. Donovan could handle whatever was out there, she knew that for a certainty, but the Sorhineth was her primary responsibility.
The bed shifted as he rose and came into her line of sight. His vehemence had miraculously turned into something else in a few seconds. He positively glowed with good, clean energy; a corona of power arced from the book in her hands and melded to his well-muscled body before fading from sight.
He strode forward in long, sure strides until he was framed in the doorway leading into the suite. “Julian, how did you find me?”
When Donovan spoke, it was with something she recognized as The Voice, even though she’d never heard it before.
“You could put some clothes on to welcome me, Donovan.” The intruder greeted him, and even though his words were calm, almost reasonable, there was an underlying, simmering rage that chilled her to the bone.
Donovan waved a hand, almost nonchalantly. This was not the man she knew. Th
is was the Spirit Talisman, no matter what he’d said earlier. And in the small move, his seeming acceptance of his power, she lost her heart to him. She’d already been halfway there when he’d confessed his feelings about Jenalee, but this second in time pushed her the rest of the way. Why that should do it, as she crouched naked on the floor with the precious Sorhineth clutched to her chest, she couldn’t say, but it was so. Not that she’d let him know it, at least not yet. It was too soon, too new, too wondrously terrifying after her fumbling attempts to brush off his claim just a few moments ago.
“How many are you? Should I expect more company?”
Donovan’s demeanor, even from her vantage point in the next room, was calm, practically vibrating with power and presence.
“More than you could ever hope to overcome. You may have defeated one of us, but too many more follow. Save yourself and your Warden. Hand over the book now. You could have a place with us, Donovan, a powerful place, and bring your woman with you.”
Brenna couldn’t see the Destroyer, but his voice echoed, booming through the two rooms. The Sorhineth absorbed some of the evil; she could feel it crawling against her breasts. Shuddering in revulsion, she did the only thing she could think of, ducking her head and curling around the book, protecting it with her life force as the two Terrans faced each other.
“Thanks for the offer, but we’ll have to pass.” Donovan’s reply was dry, and oh-so in control. It was a perfect dichotomy to his ire a few minutes past.
A strange voice began to gnaw at her consciousness. Warden… Bring the book to me and he’ll live. You can leave together, and we’ll let you…
She shook her head violently and clutched the precious tome closer. She had to trust that Donovan would take care of the Destroyer, even if she was now scared down to her bones for him, for her, for the fate of the world.