Vote Then Read: Volume I

by Carly Phillips

  Her gaze narrowed. “What about an intimate past?” Of course she would go there.

  “If you’re asking if I’ve fucked her, the answer is yes. Only once. And neither of us was particularly fond of the outcome.” He tightened his hold as she tried to move away. “I won’t apologize for my history, love. All I can do is pledge fidelity going forward, which I’ve already done.”

  “You could have warned me.”

  “Perhaps, but that would imply I consider it an important topic. Which I do not.” Unlike his progeny who decided to mention the issue—one Clara and Issac hadn’t discussed in decades because neither of them perceived the other in a sexual manner. “She’s a friend and nothing more. A fact Tristan knows but decided to disregard to provoke unwarranted strife.” He tilted his head. “Don’t let him win, Aya. Please.”

  She studied him for a long moment and shook her head. “Your best friend is an ass.”

  He snorted. “I’m well aware.”

  “Yet you’re still friends.”

  “He has his moments.” Issac loosened his hold and brushed his mouth over hers. “There’s no one else, Aya. Only you. I swear it.”

  She relaxed against him, her lips lingering against his. “I think you should take me to bed and prove it.” The taunt was a whispered invitation that heated his blood. “We have all night, right?”

  “Mmm, yes, we do. And I know of just the right distraction to keep us both occupied.” He smiled against her mouth. “Something to take our minds off all the heavy discussion.”

  He really just wanted to see her naked again. Perhaps in another shower, or just in his bed, or on the table in the kitchen. Hmm, all three appealed to him. It would give them a night of pleasure before having to head back into the city tomorrow morning.

  Issac could do with a bout of passionate fun, maybe even a bite.

  Otherwise, he would waste the evening worrying about something he couldn’t control.

  Yes, he’d much rather spend it living and cherishing every moment.

  “Now you’re just teasing me,” she accused, her hands falling to his hips as she tilted her head back. “But let me guess, does it involve my birthmark? Because I’d still like to win that bet.”

  His lips curled. “Actually, I’d just thought to take you back to the pool house for a few hours of sensual treatment and food, but now that you’ve reminded me, I would like to declare a winner.” Which would be him, naturally.

  “Sensual treatment?” she repeated. “I think I prefer that now.”

  “Too late, love. You’ve already inspired the idea.” He caught her hand and pulled her alongside him. “Let’s put this bet to rest, then I can put you to bed.”

  She snorted. “What a line.”

  He paused, arching a brow at her. “Is that your way of requesting a demonstration, love?” He backed her into the door, his hands on her hips, his thigh sliding between hers. “Just because we’re in the company of friends and family doesn’t mean I won’t ravish you right here and now.” The words were against her parted lips, his grip tightening. “Say the words, Aya. I dare you.”

  She shivered, her fingers digging into his shirt. “I—”

  The turning handle had Issac pulling her to him just as the doors parted, a grinning Balthazar on the other side.

  “Professional tip, Wakefield. Feed her a proper meal first. Then ravage her again. Provides better energy and increases enthusiasm.” He glanced down at her, a wicked glint in his gaze. “And from what I overheard last night, you are quite passionate, sweetheart. When you’re ready for a real immortal, you know where to find me.”

  A glorious pink overcame her cheeks as Issac arched a brow. “Did you miss my performance last night? Because I believe I left her more than satisfied. Over and over again.”

  Astasiya gasped, her eyes widening.

  “Oh, I heard it,” he replied, his lips curling. “I rated it a nine until you failed to feed her prior to the shower.”

  “I was busy eating—”

  “Okay, yeah, we’re not having this conversation,” Astasiya said, sliding between the two of them to enter the house. She paused just inside the door, her face turning an even deeper shade of red. “Fuck.”

  “That is the topic at hand, yes,” Balthazar murmured, walking past her to join their audience in the living area. Most were gazing at Astasiya with interest, which had been the cause of her stumbling to a halt.

  Issac closed the door before circling his arms around her from behind, his lips at her ear. “Ignore, Balthazar, darling. The rest of us do.”

  When she didn’t speak or move, he kissed her cheek.

  Time for a subject change.

  “Aidan, Lucian, do you have a moment?” he asked. They were deep in conversation with Mateo, his blond head bent over his tablet, as usual.

  The father and son duo glanced up at the same time, their faces so similar, yet one slightly more aged than the other. Neither of them favored facial hair, which only aided in their resemblance.

  “Yes?” Aidan prompted.

  “The rune,” Lucian said, fully in tune with Issac, as always. Not due to mind reading, just a habit of knowing him well. “He wants us to look now.”

  “Ah yes.” Aidan blinked. “Show us, Issac.”

  He telegraphed the image with ease while resting his chin on Astasiya’s shoulder. Heat radiated from her cheeks, suggesting she’d not yet forgiven him for bantering with Balthazar. Issac could have thought the words instead, but saying them out loud felt so much more refreshing. Particularly after the bastard’s blatant proposition.

  As if Issac would share.

  “Not something you ever considered an issue in the past, Wakefield,” the mind reader said, smirking. He’d taken the seat beside Eliza, his arm stretched out over the back of the couch, carefully not touching the woman.

  Although, she seemed to be comfortable with the proximity because her body was angled toward him. Not in a sexual manner so much as a comforting one.

  Balthazar’s secondary ability to control emotion would come in handy in her situation. He also tended to be rather tenderhearted in these circumstances, marking him as the perfect confidant. Amelia always did adore him in a familial way.

  Issac did not share that opinion. Astasiya is mine. Fuck off.

  Balthazar chuckled, his too-handsome face causing several of the females in the room to take notice. Astasiya, thankfully, was too focused on Aidan and Lucian to notice.

  The two omniscient beings were chattering in an old language, a dead one from the sounds of it. They tended to regress when lost in debate and theories.

  Issac waited them out, knowing one of them would eventually return to the future with his findings. “I believe I’m winning, Aya,” he whispered against her ear. “I hope you’re ready to take another shower. That’s where we’ll start.”

  She quivered, her soft intake of air confirming she’d visualized his words. He longed to see in her mind, to manipulate her vision with just what he intended.

  Her. Wet.

  Soft.

  Willing.

  Palms against the wall.

  His cock sliding into her from behind, his lips against her neck.

  Mmm, yes, that was exactly how they would start. He allowed her to feel the stirrings of his arousal around her ass, grazed his teeth against her pulse.

  The clearing of a throat brought his head up, his attention falling upon an expectant Aidan. “We have follow-up questions,” he said.

  Of course they did. “Which are?” Issac prompted.

  “Does the mark ever bother you, Stas?” Lucian asked, his green eyes holding a faraway gleam that matched his father’s.

  Both were lost to their gifts, sorting through thousands and thousands of years of knowledge and experience, all while maintaining a conversation in the present. That sort of power was what qualified Lucian to lead and what kept Ichorians from challenging Aidan. Playing against an omniscient strategist was a fool’s errand, indeed
.

  “Uh, no, not really,” she replied.

  Aidan didn’t appear to like that answer. “Issac, can you try to manipulate her vision for me?”

  Seemed a waste of time, but he nodded anyway and gave it a go. Astasiya squirmed a little, likely uncomfortable with the idea of being a test subject. Then she stilled, her lips parting.

  “Oh, shit…” She spun in his arms, her gaze widening. “Do it again.”

  He frowned. “All right.” He came up against another black wall of nothing, her mind completely shut off to him.

  Her eyebrows were in her hairline. “My back… it… it tingles.”

  Lucian and Aidan were nodding, their conversation flowing again in a foreign language no one in this room understood. After several minutes of suspense, Lucian tilted his head to the side, his focus on Astasiya. “Have you ever seen a Seraphim, Stas?”

  “A Seraphim?” she repeated, moving to Issac’s side. “Issac said they were rare.”

  “Extremely rare,” Aidan agreed. “I haven’t seen one in several thousand years. I started to suspect they were extinct, but that mark suggests otherwise. When did you first notice it?”

  “Uh, as a kid? It’s a birthmark.” Frown lines marred her brow. “Are you suggesting a Seraphim put a rune on my back?”

  “Yes,” they both replied at once.

  “Why?”

  “First guess, to protect you from Ichorians.” Aidan shifted focus. “Have we tested Hydraian gifts on her thoroughly?”

  “Only mine,” Balthazar replied.

  Aidan scratched his chin, his gaze searching. “Where’s Jacque?”

  “ ’Sup?” the teleporter appeared, a piece of pizza in his hand. “Heard my name from the kitchen.”

  “Stas, would you mind letting Jacque teleport you across the room?” Aidan asked. “To test your mark?”

  She gaped at him. “You want me to let some guy I don’t know teleport me?”

  Issac pressed his lips to her temple. “Jacque’s harmless, darling. Trust me.”

  “I’m not sure whether to be offended or pleased by that,” the teleporter said around a mouthful of food.

  “His manners, however, leave much to be desired,” Issac added.

  Jacque shrugged. “You try teleporting people back and forth all day across the world and tell me if you’re not feckin’ starved, yeah?”

  “Across the world?” Astasiya repeated. “Yeah, no. Nope. Find someone else.”

  “I can always try it.” The deep voice came from the hallway as Alik entered with a bottle of beer in his hands.

  Issac tensed. “That’s not—”

  “Did you just speak in my head?” Astasiya asked, her eyes wide.

  “Not immune,” Alik summarized, collapsing into a chair beside Balthazar. “I can try my other gift if you’re not satisfied.”

  “No,” Issac said flatly.

  “What’s his other gift?” Astasiya wondered out loud, then shook her head. “Never mind, I don’t want anyone else in my head.”

  Considering Alik could cripple an army with a thought, that was a wise decision.

  “Did your mark tingle at all when Alik telepathically spoke to you?” Aidan asked.

  She stiffened and shook her head. “No, not then or now. Stop doing that.”

  Alik shrugged, sipping his bottle, completely unperturbed.

  “And no, don’t do that either,” she added, shuddering. “No wonder you’re so… dark.”

  “Keeps me alive,” Alik replied. “As well as everyone else.”

  Well, he must have answered her question about his ability to mentally torture hundreds of minds at a time. Brilliant. That would certainly warm Astasiya to the Hydraians.

  “The protection rune is specific to Ichorians, then,” Lucian was saying, in English this time, to Aidan. “Why?”

  “I’m more interested in the how of it,” Aidan replied. “What do we know about her ancestry?” The question seemed to be directed toward Issac.

  “Just the names of her birth parents. Are you thinking they knew a Seraphim?” Issac rubbed Astasiya’s arms while he spoke, her skin pebbled with goose bumps.

  “Yes. It’s possible her father knew one and requested a protective marking to help keep her alive.” Aidan crossed one ankle over his knee. “I’d love to know what he negotiated in trade for such a precious gift. The higher angels hate Ichorians.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Because we’re considered an abomination to the angelic race.” Aidan said it so casually, as if everyone knew that. “Do you remember meeting anyone unique in your childhood? Someone with an otherworldly air or poor communication skills? Seraphim don’t socialize much with mortals, or anyone really. Stoic and abrupt would be good descriptors.”

  “Uh.” She swallowed. “Not ringing any bells.”

  “What about your parents? Do you remember anything about them, Stas? Anything unique?” Lucian asked.

  She pinched her lips to the side. “My father could compel. My mother…” She trailed off, slowly shaking her head. “It’s… My memories have always been unreliable, fuzzy in nature.”

  Lucian and Aidan shared a look. “Memory tampering?” the eldest suggested.

  “Possible,” Lucian agreed. “We’ll need to dive into that more.”

  “Indeed.” Aidan switched to their archaic words again, the two of them lost to their minds. Mateo sat blissfully beside them, working on his plans for tomorrow.

  The others all seemed to be melting into their own conversations as well.

  “Do you have any other questions?” Issac asked, his arm sliding around Astasiya’s shoulders.

  “Not yet,” Aidan and Lucian said together before returning to their discussion.

  The question had been for Astasiya. “And you?” Issac whispered, his lips against her ear.

  “What language are they speaking?”

  He chuckled. “Honestly, I have no idea. They revert back to dead languages when they get excited about something.” He kissed her shoulder. “It’s rare for them to be presented with a learning opportunity.”

  “Because they know everything.”

  “Not so much know everything as they remember everything they’ve ever learned.”

  She glanced up at him. “That’s terrifying.”

  “And amazing,” he added, drawing his finger across her jaw. “In any case, they’ll let us know if they figure anything out, but I’m guessing that rune of yours will remain a mystery.”

  “And why’s that?”

  “Because only the Seraphim who gave it to you can tell us why.” The only thing they knew for certain was the marking protected her from Ichorian gifts.

  Her expression fell, her lips curling down at the sides. “Oh.”

  He lifted her chin upward with his thumb, his lips brushing hers. “You look like you could use a distraction right about now.”

  “I just found out my birthmark isn’t a birthmark at all,” she whispered. “A distraction would be great.”

  “There’s food in the pool house.”

  “I’m more interested in the bed.” Soft words, confidently spoken.

  She’d just revealed the seductress she kept hidden away deep inside. The one who favored lace and craved his bite.

  And oh, how his demon side approved.

  “Yes, and I do believe I won.” He allowed his gaze to roam over her slowly. “Anywhere and however I want, yes?”

  She visibly shuddered, her eyes taking on a bedroom quality he adored. “I think I’m going to enjoy this distraction.”

  “That’s the idea.” He pressed his lips to her ear, his words for her alone. “I’m going to start by fucking that delicious mouth of yours, then we’ll make it more interesting. Now, follow me.”

  27

  Testing Boundaries

  This is a bad idea.

  The thought reverberated in Stas’s mind as they neared the CRF headquarters. She fought the urge to fiddle with the top button of her b
louse—the one that Mateo had sewn on this morning.

  A camera.

  That would link back to his tablet.

  She swallowed. He promised the metal detectors wouldn’t catch anything, and the button looked real enough.

  Just like the item in her pocket.

  A business card with Issac’s contact information as CEO of Wakefield Pharmaceuticals on the front and his masculine handwriting scrawled across the back.

  But between the paper edges was something that would allow Mateo to hack into Doctor Fitzgerald’s system, so long as she placed the item close enough to his computer.

  Issac squeezed her leg, his palm resting against her upper thigh as he navigated the Manhattan streets. “You don’t have to do this, Aya.”

  Oh, but she did. They were missing something, some key detail. Every fiber of her being vowed that Owen never meant her any harm, even when they first met.

  Of course, she felt the same way about Doctor Fitzgerald despite the evidence to the contrary.

  “It’s the only option,” she said softly, more to herself than to Issac. “I’m just nervous, is all.”

  That the card in her pocket might set off some alarms.

  That someone might notice the button.

  That she might get caught.

  That I might not like the truth.

  She shivered, goose bumps pebbling her arms despite the warm summer day.

  The electricity dancing across her skin intensified as the looming glass towers of the CRF appeared before them, a variety of flags decorating the courtyard out front.

  “Last chance, love,” Issac murmured, his hand moving to the shifter between them.

  “I have to do this.” The conviction in her voice didn’t match her churning insides.

  He nodded, slowing as they approached the gated entrance. “When we pass the guard stand, my gift will no longer be viable.”

  “Issac, this—”

  “I want you to test your gift on me when I park inside, Aya. We need to know that it works.”

  “This isn’t the plan,” she gritted out.

  “Plans change.” He uttered the words while steering into place in front of the gate. “Let me do the talking.”