A Brief History of Micronesian Culture from the Jurassic Era to the Present.
The Cold War and its Discontents.
Australian Aboriginal Dialects.
Vic shook her head, but that did nothing to clear her thoughts. Who did these books belong to? How did they get here?
Then she spotted a book with no printing on the cover at all. Without thinking, she picked it up. It fell open to a bunch of loose scraps with notes scribbled on them, tucked into the binding. She rifled the pages. She had no idea what she was looking for beyond some clue to the identity of the magazine’s owner. Whoever he was, he must have traveled back and forth in time quite a lot. Her eye fell on a particular note stuffed into the book. The words brandywine tundra beetle shot into her brain. She fumbled to find the page, and when she did, she couldn’t believe her eyes.
Brandywine tundra beetle—Cotinus nitida.
Vic frowned. That was impossible. It couldn’t be. Her thoughts churned all over the place. Just then, a door slammed far away in a different part of the house. She jumped out of her skin and scampered back to her own room, still holding the book.
She shut the door as well as she could without slamming it and locked herself in with the paperclip. She raced over to the bed and snatched her phone off the pile of stuff she’d dumped out of her handbag. She kept repeating the same manic prayer in her head. “Please, God, please let there be enough power. Please, oh please, please, please.”
She depressed the power button, and the screen flickered on. Her hands shook, waiting for the thing to blink awake after lying unused for so long. When the screen lit up, the battery icon read 30%. She fought to breathe. The home screen appeared. Vic tensed every muscle, counting the seconds until the signal came through. Finally, a window popped up with the message: No Internet Connection.
No shit, Sherlock. She punched the Notes icon and every document she’d saved came into view. Yes! There it was. The ELISA assay they’d conducted on the insect they thought might be the brandywine tundra beetle Mila emailed her. She touched the saved document and scrolled down to the results.
Vic’s gaze skipped down the sheet, reading the results in a heartbeat. No wonder they made no sense when she’d first seen them. That entomologist Ree consulted about the beetle had steered them to the wrong insect.
Insane glee bubbled out of her soul, and she let out an involuntary burst of laughter before swallowing it down. Of course! Now that she knew the identity of the beetle, she had to get this information back to San Francisco. She had to tell Ree and Ned the truth. They would never make the Cipher’s Kiss without this.
She turned her attention back to the book. What other nuggets of useful information remained hidden in its pages? She flipped to the front. Inside the binding, on the first leaf, someone had written in beautiful scrolling copperplate handwriting, Nikolai Wainwright.
The name meant nothing to her, but this guy sure knew his stuff. He must have been quite the time traveler. He’d collected useful information from all over the world and from multiple time periods.
She sat down on the bed to study the whole book. Maybe some other books in that room across the hall contained information she could take back. She spread it on her lap as a scraping sound jerked her out of her elation. She barely stuffed the book into her handbag before the door opened.
At the sight of her visitor, she jumped to her feet and hurtled across the room. “Malcolm!”
Chapter 23
Vic collided with Malcolm full tilt and threw her arms around his waist. He caught her and hugged her. The sensation of her body against his hurt worse than anything. “Aye, lass. It’s only me.”
She pushed him away and held him at arm’s length. “You won’t believe what just happened! Just wait until I tell you.”
“Aye,” he breathed. “Ye’ll no’ believe it. That’s why I’m here.”
She checked herself. “What’s going on?”
“I’m sending ye back to yer own time, lass,” he breathed. “There’s no time to explain. Boyd’s sending the teams forward. He’ll no’ spare the horses when it comes to getting the information he wants out of ye.”
The glowing smile evaporated off her face. “He’s serious about that, isn’t he?”
“He’s serious about everything,” Malcolm said with a frown. “He wouldnae have made that threat if he didnae intend to carry it out. Ye cannae stay here. I must send ye back straightaway.”
“What about you?” she asked. “When he finds out I’m gone, he’ll know you sent me away. He’ll turn on you.”
Malcolm couldn’t keep his hands off this beloved woman. He cradled her cheek in one hand. “He’s already turned against me, lass. He already kens who I am. He’s only biding his time to strike.”
“Then you have to leave too!” she cried. “I can’t leave you here alone. He’ll kill you. He’ll treat you a lot worse than he treated Noah. You must realize that.”
“My life doesnae mean a thing, lass.” His voice cracked when he tried to get the words out. “Do ye no’ understand that by now? My life belongs to the Angui. If I die now, it’s naught that hasnae been coming since the first day the plague struck. I’ve been dead all that time. Now he means to make it official.”
“No!” she screamed. “I won’t let that happen. You’re not dead yet, Malcolm. I got Noah out. We can get you out too. I know we can.”
He pulled her against his chest, not wanting to let her go—ever. Why couldn’t he have just this one simple treasure to make his life bearable? Why did he have to give up the one thing in his life that made it worth living?
“Ye must go,” he murmured. “Ye’ll be dead within hours if ye stay.”
She buried her face in his chest. “You’ll be dead. That’s what you mean to say.”
“I dinnae matter, lass. I’m naught.”
“Stop saying that!” she shrieked. “How can you ask me to turn my back on you? Do you know what I just found? I just found the missing piece of the puzzle. I just found the missing ingredient in the Cipher’s Kiss. As soon as I get back, we can start making the formula.”
His face twitched and he tried to smile down at her, but he wound up wincing in pain instead. “Then ye must go back. Ye must give it to Ree, and ye must make it.”
“No!” she wailed. “I won’t leave you.”
“Lass,” he croaked. “I’m there. I’m waiting for ye there. Ye must go, and I’ll see ye there when ye get back.”
“You won’t be there if Boyd kills you,” she countered. “I won’t know if you’re there or not until I get there.”
“That’s right. Now on ye go and find out.”
She clung to him in desperate need.
He never expected this from her. He expected her to jump at the chance to leave, to get out of Boyd’s clutches. Now that she begged to stay with him and protect him, he wasn’t sure he could go through with sending her away. He hadn’t realized he felt this way about her, or that she could feel this way about him. How could a few delicious hours in a crate make such a difference?
She held him at arm’s length, her eyes darting around his face. “Come with me, Malcolm. Don’t stay here. Get away from Boyd before he does something really awful.”
“I cannae, lass,” he replied. “I must find out who he sends forward in time. I must warn the others if I can.”
“Don’t you already know who they are?” she asked. “Aren’t you the one prepping the teams?”
“I should be, but Boyd is working behind me back. He’ll pull something to undermine me. I ken he will.”
She shook her head fast. “We can’t let this happen. Why can’t you use the time travel spell to send yourself somewhere else? Why do you have to wait around here for him to kill you?”
“I’m no’ waiting for him to kill me, lass,” he replied. “Quite the opposite.”
She raised her eyes to his, and he gazed down into those bottomless pools. At that moment, he couldn’t resist. He bent forward an
d kissed her, and the floodgates opened. She rose on her tiptoes to meet him, and their lips locked, never to come asunder.
He strapped his arms around her rib cage and lifted her off the floor, crushing her to himself and savoring the intolerable sweetness of her kiss. She trailed her fingers up his neck and into his hair. Her petite frame draped against him down to his knees.
How could a man want a woman this much? How had he lived all these years without ever wanting something so bad that he couldn’t live without it?
He would have to live without her if he succeeded in convincing her to return to her own time. He didn’t doubt he could do it. He would slink back into his hollow cocoon where he couldn’t feel a thing. He’d spent thousands of years there, and that’s where he would return. He would forget he ever knew her until he saw her again.
He must have been the one to send her here. Nothing else made sense. Of the people who knew the time portal spell, only he would have sufficient cause to send her here. God, he must have been going out of his mind with aching need for her. He must have been sneaking around, watching her grow up, watching her develop, watching her go to school. He must have counted down the minutes until he sent her here, until the exact date and time she said she disappeared.
August 25, 2018. Eleven thirty-seven in the morning. Those words were seared into his memory. He wouldn’t stop repeating them for the next three hundred years.
She grappled for every inch of real estate she could touch of him, pressing her breasts into his chest. She mauled his lips and tongue for all she was worth. He knew she was wild before, but nothing compared to this.
He stumbled forward and collided with the bed. They toppled over on it still tangled in each other’s arms. She grunted when the air blew out of her lungs as he landed on top of her. Her compact body under him sparked him to insane passion. He pawed at her dress to claw her bodice open as he mouthed down her slender neck to the ivory expanse of her bust. He didn’t stop until he’d kissed his way to her beautiful orbs waiting to fall into his mouth.
She scratched his back and mussed his hair, seething all over the bed at his lips and tongue teasing her. She sighed in ecstasy as her legs glided back and forth against each other under her skirts.
He yanked her laces free, and her dress fell apart to let him in. He collapsed into the magnificent softness of her skin against his face, hot in his hands. He could die in that angelic world of warm delirium.
She tugged his shirt out of his belt, and her dainty fingers touched his back. Rocket explosions burst in his head. Her silky arms stroked down his ribs, and her hand crept inside his belt to the tender territory under his kilt. Was this really happening? Was he really taking here, here in the Guild House, under Boyd’s very nose?
She took hold of his belt and pulled it loose. That comforting tightness around his waist dropped away, and his shaft stiffened to point into the void. Nothing held him back but her dress.
Before he could muster the brain power to undress her, she pulled up her own skirts. She arched her hips against his midsection and slid down her stockings to bare her lower half. Her thighs caressed his hips. Oh, God, she was taking him instead of the other way around! She wanted him, and he existed at her command.
He wanted to plow into her between her petticoats right then, but that would never do. This might be the last time he ever saw her. Something could happen to separate them. He might never know she ever lived. If he was going to take her, he had to do this right. He heaved up onto his arms. She writhed and sighed under him, her cheeks glowing with life. He swooped down and kissed her one more time.
Malcolm got up from the bed, crossed the room, and locked the door. When he turned around, he saw her standing by the bed, freeing herself from the bulk of clothes she’d been wearing. He shrugged his shirt off and dropped his kilt to the floor, then naked to stand in front of her.
Vic’s beautiful green eyes glistened with moisture and her lips pouted, ready to be kissed. Her cheeks were flushed, and her skin glowed. What a ripe fruit she was just waiting to be picked. Knowing what she felt like fueled his hunger. He wanted her in his mouth and eyes and ears and nose. He wanted to fill himself with nothing but her.
He eased around her and sat down on the bed, his erection aimed at her. It knew what it wanted, and it wouldn’t leave until it got her. He grasped her by the hips and steered her toward him, and she came willingly. He positioned her between his knees, and when he kissed between her breasts, her luscious body sagged in his arms. Her joints softened, and she moved where he guided her. He slid his hands up her legs and brushed the irresistible wetness there, then immediately left it alone.
She whimpered under her breath, her hands needy in the back of his hair.
He cradled one breast and stuck the rosy peak in his mouth. She moaned and teetered in his arms. He sucked that succulent morsel and teased it with his teeth until she yelped in agony. He supported her with one muscled arm behind her back while he trailed his other hand between her thighs. She split open to receive him and bucked against his knuckles. She mewed into his mouth, and her fragrant aroma floated into his nostrils.
That smell set him on fire. He had to have her before he said goodbye. He had to be inside that steaming garden just one more time. Then he could die if he needed to die.
He guided her closer, and she perched on her knees, facing him and hovering over his manhood. She matched his movement to pull her down to him, and her immaculate sweetness closed around his shaft. He gasped for air, but her tight muscles clenched off his very being. She held him inside her where he couldn’t escape.
He hid his face in her neck as she combed her fingers through his hair and breathed her hot breath into his ear. Oh, he couldn’t stand this. He would explode any second now, but he wanted to remain frozen there in her and in time. He tightened both arms around her slim waist. Her breasts enveloped his face and filled his mouth to overflowing. His brain screamed in rapture, but he couldn’t make a sound. She swallowed him until he lost all sense of self.
What would become of him? Would he die right here in this scorching volcano of desire pulsing through him?
She rocked on his lap, making his flesh plunge in and out and to the very brink of disaster as he groaned into her shoulder. She growled in his ear, and the sound shot straight to his core. “Yes, baby. Oh, God, yes. Please don’t stop. I need it so bad.”
No one had ever talked to him like that before. He’d never imagined any woman talking to him like that. Those words shattered his being until nothing remained. He couldn’t survive this. Did she know what she did to him?
She worked her pelvis back and forth, and the intoxicating ripples of her raw power stroked down his member, dragging him to the heights of bliss until he couldn’t stand the intensity. He threw back his head and gasped—or did she yank him back by the hair? She silenced him by covering his lips with her own and drinking his immortal cries with her own insatiable mouth.
Her molten juices flowed around his shaft, and he found himself gliding on a slippery film that rushed him to ultimate completion. He couldn’t stop the beating wave that matched his rhythm to hers. He pushed into her every time she sank onto him.
How did this happen? How did he lose control of himself without even realizing it?
The next thing he knew, he poured out his soul into her and she sobbed and twitched in his arms. Tiny shrieks pierced his mind as his ecstasy spurted into her depths until she’d milked him dry.
Chapter 24
Straddling Malcolm on the bed with his shaft still nestled inside her, Vic gazed into his startled eyes, but he didn’t see her. He gazed at something beyond her, something out of sight. She stroked the hair off his sweaty brow. His lips didn’t respond when she kissed him.
She never wanted to let him go. She never realized until this moment how much she wanted to stay with him.
He shuddered, and his head fell onto her shoulder.
She cradled him close to protect him from
whatever he saw out there in space. He rasped in her ear, “Ye winnae forget, will ye, lass? Ye winnae forget this when ye go back?”
“No,” she whispered. “I won’t forget. I’ll never forget.”
“Ye’ll come and find me over there, will ye no’?”
She kissed his forehead. “I’ll come and find you. That’s the first thing I’ll do.”
He hesitated. “I dinnae want to let ye go.”
“I don’t want to go.” Vic’s throat tightened at the thought of parting from him after what just happened. How could she feel this way about someone she barely knew? How could she have only discovered him now, when she was about to lose him?
A small, choking sound came out of his throat, but he still didn’t raise his head. She held him for all she was worth.
The words came out of a forgotten corner of her soul, growing out of her deepest need to become true. “Don’t make me go back. Let me stay here with you. Whatever happens, let me face it with you.”
“Och, lass!” His head shot up.
Before she knew what hit her, he was kissing her all over. He nibbled her lips and planted kisses all over her face and eyes and neck. Even when she’d spoke those fateful words, she already knew she had to go back. She had to pass this information about the tundra beetle to Ned and Ree. They couldn’t make the formula without it. They could spend the next several generations searching for the tundra beetle and never find out what she’d read in that book.
His kisses hurt all the more because she knew they couldn’t last—not like this. Her heart ached to keep holding him, but it couldn’t be—not yet, anyway.
One kiss at a time, the ardor cooled between them. It had to, or she could never tear herself away. He pulsed into her on soft waves of motion, caressing the inner territory where his being joined with hers, but the future propelled them apart.
Spies of the Angui - Cipher's Kiss Book 3 Page 16
