The Betrayer (Crossing Realms Series Book 3)

by Rebecca E. Neely

  Her body quaking, she climaxed, the waves rocking her like a stormy sea. He slowed his pace but continued the onslaught on her body as she shuddered, bucked, begged.

  Pleasure and pain keened her system, driving her mad. Her breath hitched and her eyes locked on his. “Curtis, now. Please.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Curtis longed to drive into her, make her his. His erection strained against his jeans, matching the jackhammer of his heart. But he wanted to show her the softer side of love. She deserved every tenderness, every kindness. He brushed his lips over her shoulders, her forearms, her fingers, the image of how she’d been brutalized still too fresh in his mind. Yet she considered it a cost of being a soldier.

  He’d never forget finding her, broken, lying on the ground. How could he forgive himself for not being there to protect her?

  But he’d be damned if he wouldn’t revel in her, in the fact she was alive. As she’d said, everything could change in twelve hours.

  If he was going to die making love to her, so be it.

  He’d been waiting for her to take this step.

  And he’d been waiting for her all his life.

  Now, he would savor this woman who’d bewitched him with her passions and made her yearnings his own.

  Jordan, his mate, was claiming him. Finally. And he was hers for the taking.

  He wanted all of her—the long, fluid limbs, her lean, hard muscle, her wild, untamed hair. Her clear summer eyes, waxing and waning between innocent and jaded. He longed for all her tastes and textures, to unlock her mysteries over a lifetime.

  “Curtis,” she breathed, stroking his bare back with her fingertips.

  Pleasure unfurled in him, through him. In answer, he nuzzled his lips against hers and basked in their petal softness, in her sensuous sighs. The taste of her ripe on his tongue, her flesh satin against his chest, he used one hand to peel off his jeans and underwear. Here, where he’d played as a child, he’d build a fortress for this rare, precious woman, around her heart and his. Against the battles yet to come.

  He levered himself up on his palms and straddled her, wishing he had hours to love her instead of minutes. He promised himself they would have that someday soon. “I want to look at you. You’re beautiful. So different from anyone I’ve ever known. So brave.”

  She smiled shyly, though she was naked in his arms, and utterly endeared herself to him.

  Her body quivered under his. His breath hitched, his control teetered. Tortuously slow, he entered her.

  He moaned as her slick velvet heat surrounded him. Her eyes widened with desire then fluttered closed. Cupping her ass in his palms, he lifted her, withdrew, and slid inside her again, deeper. Stroke after lovely stroke. Her body arched, driving him on.

  Gasping, they rolled over the ground, birds chirping a wild accompaniment.

  She rose above him, her body like silk, an erotic, dark fantasy. Her dreadlocks brushing his chest in a tantalizing dance, she rode him, her eyes never leaving his face.

  “Jordan,” he groaned. Holding her tightly, he reversed their positions. On top of her once more, he plunged inside her. Her muscles clenched and pulsed around him. And drove him mad. With one final thrust, he filled her, the power of his release whipping through his system, shocking him. Thrilling him.

  Trembling, his limbs quaking, he shifted, careful not to put his full weight on her. Their breaths tangled together, their slick bodies still joined, he rained kisses on her lips, her chin, her cheeks. He figured his pulse might return to normal in a month.

  Twining his legs with hers, he tucked her solidly against his chest and held her close, where she belonged. “I . . .”

  I love you. The words he longed to speak lodged in his throat. He was wary of the timing, of scaring her off, of taking that one final step.

  “What is it?” she asked softly.

  “I told you we would make love,” he murmured.

  She offered him a lazy smile. “Yes, you did. And I can’t wait to do it again.”

  He laughed, the sound and her voice music in his soul. Stark reality waited in the wings, eager to encroach on their daytime fantasy retreat. He allowed himself to drift, almost to become a part of the ripe, bright green of summer, the sunlight, dappled in shadows, the sky so blue it hurt his eyes. Here, in the human realm that touched every one of his senses.

  Senses.

  Human.

  Abruptly, he turned to Jordan.

  “What is it?”

  Instead of answering her, he concentrated on the image filling his mind. Of her, with Libby and Meda in the Situation room. The trio of them, leaning together in conversation. Their hair. Blond. Auburn. Ebony. His, and his brothers’ mates. They were different, yet the same. Their abilities complemented one another, interconnected.

  “Jordan.” Excitement bolted through him and had him reaching for his jeans. “Get dressed.” Yanking her close, he kissed her fervently. “I think I know how we can restore the Similitude to Vitality.”

  Chapter 26

  “It’s been right in front of me for days,” Curtis informed Nick and Libby, Dev and Meda. The only members of his clan who hadn’t yet crossed realms, they’d settled themselves on the couch in the living room.

  In the foyer the grandfather clock chimed, marking the hour. Eleven o’clock. Sunlight beamed through the bay window. Adrenaline and the potent energy from making love with Jordan thrumming in his system, Curtis blessed the gods for the woman at his side. Both she and the energy, he believed, had helped him to piece it together, finally.

  Exhilarated, he strode around the room, waving his hands. “But I didn’t see it until now.”

  Tan barked as if sharing in his excitement. Meda scratched his ears.

  “Go on,” Nick urged.

  “The three of you. Jordan. Libby. Meda.” Curtis nodded at each in turn. “I’ve been thinking all along it’s your abilities that could help us. Each of them relates to one of the senses. Smell. Touch. Hearing. But I think that’s only part of it.”

  Pausing, he crouched in front of Jordan, perched on the armrest of a chair. “You were, until very recently, both a Keeper and a Betrayer. Meda, you’re human. And Libby, you’re all three. Part human, Betrayer, Keeper.” He spread his hands to encompass them. “Together, the three of you represent the whole spectrum of who and what we are, and who we fight for. Our Vitality is the sum of all energies. It’s all connected.” He paused. “Synergy,” he announced, his certainty rocking him to his marrow. He stood. “The creation of a whole greater than the sum of its parts. That’s what’s going to restore Similitude and reverse the process. It’s the only thing that can.”

  His brothers and their mates exchanged stunned looks.

  “I’ll be damned.” Dev whistled. “Go on.”

  “Let’s take a few steps back,” Curtis said. Unable to sit still, he made another round of the room. “Libby, you were able to channel your anxiety to deflect the Similitude. Meda, you used your ability to create the Flint, and Similitude. While each of your abilities is powerful by itself, neither is enough to reverse the process. Along comes Jordan. Her transformation is unprecedented. Everything we’ve been through brought us to this point.”

  He stopped, his mind churning with details, facts. “None of it was an accident. We’ve learned from each other to acquire the knowledge and skills we possess. I’ll chalk some of it, or maybe all of it, up to mysterious ways.”

  “I’ll second that,” Dev agreed. “The Watchers engineered it. It’s no accident we’re brothers. Mates.”

  “No,” Libby added. “In other ways, we already share synergy because we’re family. Mates.” She patted a protective hand to her stomach. “And we share it with the babies we’re carrying.”

  Curtis bounced on his heels in anticipation. “Even in the
music we play together. Similitude is an anomaly. None of us ever could defeat it alone.”

  “Synergy.” Meda rose from the couch in earnest. “It’s a well-known, established phenomenon. In physics. Chemistry. Psychology. Genetics. Organizations. It’s even been credited with helping cavemen become successful hunters in prehistoric times.” Hastening to Curtis’ side, she hugged him. “What’s the plan, little brother?”

  Eternally grateful for their support, for the scientific background Meda had gained from her father, Curtis plotted aloud. “The three of you need to work together to find a way to meld your abilities and your energies. Then Dev, Nick, and I add ours to the mix.” A blend of trepidation and hope pulsed through him. “There’s going to be some trial and error but I believe the end result will restore the Vitality. Our synergy.”

  “What about the babies?” Jordan asked. Lines etched her forehead. “If there’s any possibility it could hurt them, it’s out of the question.”

  Meda and Libby exchanged looks as they joined hands. “I believe our babies are giving us the purest, most powerful energy of all,” Meda said decisively. “In fact, this baby is what’s going to enable me, a human, to cross realms. I’m carrying a Keeper’s baby.” She smiled broadly. “They’ll be fighting with us.”

  Libby squeezed Meda’s hand before moving to Nick’s side. “Not fighting isn’t even an option.”

  Nick encircled her waist with his arm. “I think I already knew that.”

  Dev frowned at Meda but gave her neck a squeeze. “Ditto.”

  Nick rose from the couch. “I’m not sure I’m happy about it but I trust you, Curtis. If and when we’re able to restore the Similitude to Vitality with our synergy, we immediately cross to the Watchers’ realm. Alongside the Watchers, we fight the Betrayers with every weapon at our disposal. Defend the quarry.”

  Curtis surveyed the clan with a nod. “We use our synergy to restore their Similitude to Vitality, one stone at a time. We overpower them, gain the advantage, then shut down the portal. Without it, they can’t survive in the realm.”

  Dev leaned forward, his brow creased. “By defending the Watchers’ realm, we also defend the human realm by extension. Once the balance of energy shifts, the network will be restored.”

  Jordan folded her arms across her chest. “What if we could get Abel alone in the tunnels? Strip him of his Similitude? Take out the king pin and stop them from crossing at all? Or at least slow them down.”

  “No,” Curtis snapped, before anyone else could speak. What the hell was going through that mind of hers? “No way.”

  “I agree,” Nick said. “I like the way you think and I admire your courage, but it’s too dangerous. After what happened today with you and Kemp, the brood will be on high alert. No matter what, I don’t think it’s possible to stop the completion of the portal. There’s a massive amount of dark energy powering it, and time is short. They’re going to cross realms.” He assumed a warrior’s stance. “But so are we.”

  “Agreed,” Curtis said, and the others chimed in.

  “Then we don’t have a moment to lose.” Dev reached into his jeans pocket and withdrew the Similitude stone they’d stolen from Jordan in the warehouse, then drained. Purposefully, he moved toward her, offering it in his outstretched palm. “Are you willing to try?”

  ~ ~ ~

  Jordan held Dev’s gaze as she accepted the stone. Haenus’ stone. They’d come full circle. She understood the gesture was one of apology, not only for the way he’d treated her in the Situation room but for what’d happened in the warehouse. In a way, it honored Zane, too. “I am.”

  “Good.” The corners of his mouth tipping up, he offered her a short salute.

  Curtis slid an arm around Jordan’s waist. “My money’s on you,” he said, his breath warm on her ear.

  Desire arrowed through her, heating her blood. Heedless of the others, she covered his mouth with hers, craving his touch, his taste.

  Dev coughed pointedly. “Far be it from me to break this up, but . . .”

  Grinning, Curtis kissed her one last time. Watching Nick and Dev embrace their mates, the possibilities of what could be hit her hard. Family. Children. Memories. A home.

  Similitude in hand, Jordan regarded Libby and Meda. A few days ago, they’d been enemies. Now she counted them as sisters. Friends. She’d never had the first, and so few of the second. She’d hadn’t known the women long, but they’d bonded quickly, training before they’d left for the fallout shelter. “How do you want to do this?”

  “Why don’t we head into the kitchen?” Libby suggested. “The three of us will talk it over for now.”

  With one last look at Curtis, Jordan followed the others. Gathering around the long wooden table, all three contemplated the glittering black stone she laid in its center.

  Meda leaned back in her chair thoughtfully. “The breathing techniques I use when I meditate can help us achieve a receptive state of mind.”

  “They helped me,” Jordan said. “When I was in the tunnels.”

  “Good.” Meda nodded grimly. “We’re going to get that bastard.”

  Libby tucked an arm around Jordan’s. “Damn straight.”

  Jordan accepted their comfort gratefully. With few words, these women had offered their loyalty, camaraderie, their sympathy and would stand behind her without question.

  “Meda, I’m sorry for the way I told everyone you were pregnant.” Jordan’s apology came out in a rush.

  “I already suspected it,” Meda huffed. “But you could have used a little more discretion.”

  Jordan hung her head. “I know,” she whispered.

  “Okay, ladies.” Libby’s voice cut through the morass of emotions filling the kitchen. “Enough melodrama,” she said lightly. “Back to business.”

  “She’s right,” Meda agreed. When Jordan lifted her head, she caught Meda’s frank gaze. “It’s over, Jordan. We need to move on.”

  Jordan heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

  Libby squeezed Jordan’s hand. “For us to successfully work together, imagery is also important. Picturing the Similitude turning clear, for example.”

  “That’s when the dark energy is released,” Jordan said.

  Libby handled the stone around her neck with reverence. “It is.” Of the three women, she was the only one who’d previously crossed realms. “The quarry in the Watchers’ realm is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. A sea of sparkling, spring green. Picture it,” she repeated.

  In unspoken agreement, the women joined hands. Jordan drew several deep breaths. A minute passed. Another. Slowly, she tuned into the rhythm of Libby and Meda’s breathing. To her ability and to sounds, near and far. Identifying them, she gauged their distances reflexively.

  Water. Dripping from a faucet.

  A car, its muffler shot. Miles away.

  Heartbeats. Rapid. Even.

  The rustle of leaves, blowing in a summer breeze.

  Sensations intensified, then multiplied. With the finesse she’d so recently gained in harnessing her ability, she reached for them and opened herself.

  The scent of a freshly baked cake.

  I’m carrying a baby. Dev’s baby.

  Jordan pushed the boundaries of her ability further. And . . . the sensations evaporated as quickly as they’d come.

  Frustrated, Jordan released the other women’s hands. “I felt your energies, almost overlapping and merging with mine. But it slipped away.”

  “Me too. I felt, I don’t know, a glimmer.” Libby leaned forward intently. “It’s progress. Let’s try again.”

  Once more, the women joined hands. Jordan inspected her knuckles, her fingernails. The grime marring them had almost faded. Closing her eyes, she focused. Minutes passed. But the connection the thr
ee had forged, however fleeting, eluded them.

  Sighing, they released each other’s hands and opened their eyes. “We can do this.” Meda pounded her fist on the table. “We’re three strong, intelligent, gifted women.”

  It still surprised Jordan to hear herself described that way, but she believed it more with every moment she spent in the clan’s company. Meda was right. An idea struck her. “Tell me, both of you, about your experiences. Libby, about Haenus. And Meda, with the Flint.”

  Libby swiped a hand through her curls. “Nick is the one who helped me to find out who I really was. Without him, I wouldn’t have been able to cross realms. I had to go alone to find Haenus and stop him. My anxiety, that hot mess of emotion and sensations, was the only thing we knew of at the time capable of stopping the Similitude.”

  Sympathy and admiration flooded Jordan. “Haenus was formidable. He’d led the brood almost from the time I was born.” She shuddered. “You must have been terrified.”

  Libby’s brown eyes were serious. “I was. It was also empowering. When I lost my father . . .” She trailed off, rubbing a hand over her heart. “I’d been afraid for so long. Of my boss, the ability I didn’t understand, my anxiety. Everything. I faced my worst fears, climbing Mount Verdant, and I faced him.”

  “Amazing.” On impulse, she gave Libby a quick hug. “You’re a soldier.” She leaned back. “Tell me your story, Meda. Please.”

  Meda folded her hands in front of her. “My ability isolated me for most of my life. Like Libby, I had to face my fears by using my ability and understanding it. I did, with what you might call some strong encouragement from Dev.” She grinned. “It was only then I started to live. From the minute we met it was a wild ride, starting with the motorcycle trip from New York. We holed up in a warehouse in the ‘Burgh, did our research, and fell in love. He lied to me, but I forgave him. We stood together to battle Abel and the other brood masters.”