by Adrian, Lara
Jordana glanced at the other female, but the force of her energy didn’t relent. Not even a little.
Brinks didn’t give her a second chance.
She launched herself at Jordana with a speed that surpassed anything Rafe was capable of. One instant she was standing off to his side in the vault, the next she was planted in front of Jordana, seizing her by the shoulders.
Jordana made a strangled noise as Brinks’s hands locked on to her and didn’t let go.
“Don’t hurt her,” Rafe shouted, but he wasn’t sure Brinks was listening. And as hard as he tried, he couldn’t shake loose from the telekinetic force that held him down.
Fuck, this wasn’t good. He didn’t think it could get much worse.
Then, upstairs in the museum came the crash of breaking glass.
A deep, unearthly roar shook the building. Unmistakably Breed.
Nathan.
The massive, black-haired Gen One seemed to materialize from out of nowhere.
And Rafe had never seen him so enraged.
Nor more starkly terrified as his mate began to sag against the unfamiliar Breed female. “Get away from her.”
The light in Jordana’s palms extinguished. As it faded, the power that had been holding Rafe down subsided. He leapt to his feet. “Nathan, this isn’t what it looks like.”
Smoldering, murderous eyes skewered him. “Then what the hell is this bitch doing with her hands on my mate?”
On a bellow, Nathan charged at Brinks in homicidal rage.
She lifted her hand away from Jordana and the massive male flew backward, tumbling ass over tea kettle before crashing into the far wall. He moaned, but didn’t—or couldn’t—get up.
“What the fuck?” Rafe gaped at her.
Brinks’s palms now glowed with the same light that had filled Jordana’s.
Rafe grabbed her hand and turned it over, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.
He could feel the power circulating through her, hot and bright and almighty. Atlantean power.
Except it didn’t belong to this Breed female. She had drawn it away from Jordana.
“They will both be all right,” she said, gently lowering Jordana’s slumped, unconscious body to the floor. “But we should go now.”
CHAPTER 7
The storm that had threatened earlier was in full swing as Devony and Rafe burst out of the museum on foot. The delivery van was gone from the receiving dock, Cruz and the rest of the gang having left Rafe and her to make their escape on their own.
Fat raindrops soaked them as they ran, sheets of water rolling across the football-sized parking lot and turning puddles into almost ankle-deep pools on the asphalt.
Devony couldn’t stop shivering.
Her legs felt increasingly rubbery beneath her, her black boots seeming to gain an extra pound of weight for every step she took as she hurried to keep up with Rafe’s long strides.
Her hands were no longer glowing. The power she had siphoned off the woman Rafe had called Jordana had begun to leave her even before they’d made it out to the parking lot. Now, she was paying the price for using her ability.
In another few minutes, she would be completely drained.
Rafe glanced at her and frowned. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” she shouted through the rain. At least, she thought she shouted. Her voice sounded weak, hardly more than a croak. “Keep going. I’m right . . . behind . . . you.”
“Like hell you’re fine.”
She took a sluggish step and stumbled. Rafe’s hands were underneath her before she had a chance to hit the pavement. Scooping her into his arms, he stared down at her, his handsome face pinched with concern.
“You need help. First, I need to get you out of this rain.”
She wanted to argue against needing anything from him, but her mouth had gone dry as all of her energy faded away. Her head was too heavy to hold up now, even though it felt as if it were stuffed with cotton. Resting against Rafe’s muscled chest, she had no choice but to give in to the comfort of his strength.
His heat warmed the chill that gripped her. His body was firm and solid as he carried her, his arms holding her aloft as if she weighed nothing at all. And Lord, he smelled good too. Even in her weakened state, her senses responded to everything male in him.
“There’s a park across the street,” he said, his deep voice vibrating against her ear. “I’ll find us some shelter to wait for the storm to clear. Then you’re going to tell me what the hell I just witnessed back there in the museum.”
In moments, they were beneath the timber roof of a covered picnic shelter in a secluded corner of the empty park. Rain pattered in the surrounding trees and on the shingles overhead, while the dark sky rumbled with thunder.
Rafe set her down on the wooden bench seat beside him. Her head was still woozy, her skull throbbing from a pain that was building swiftly now that she was sitting upright. Or trying to, that is. The post-ability crash was coming on fast now, sapping what little strength she had left.
“Shit,” Rafe hissed as she listed toward him. “Come here.”
She couldn’t fight him as he drew her close, settling her across his lap on the bench. It had been years since she used her psychic ability, mainly because of the price she paid afterward. But she had never experienced pain and depletion like this.
She had never experienced the kind of awesome power she’d pulled from Jordana, either.
Devony moaned, shuddering and cold as the last of that power leached out of her, leaving her as helpless as an infant. She hated this weakness. Hated it even more because Rafe was seeing her this way.
“Christ, you’re ice cold.” Shrugging out of his leather jacket, he laid it over her. The added warmth felt nice, but not as good as the intense, permeating heat of his body beneath her, or the soothing comfort of his hands moving tenderly over her face and brow. “Does that feel better?”
It did, she realized. The savage pound kicking up inside her skull was ebbing under his touch. She nodded, not yet able to form coherent words. Her eyelids lifted and she stared up into the face of a golden angel. A scowling angel, whose grim concern was focused entirely on her.
And he was still touching her. His fingers stroked her forehead and temples, while his gaze clung to hers.
It felt more than good. It made her crave the feeling in a lot of other places on her body.
A weak moan escaped her as she struggled to lift up from his lap.
“Relax, Brinks. You’re not in any shape to even think about moving yet.” He shook his head and exhaled a curse. “Tell me your name. Your real name this time.”
It leaked out of her in a whisper. “Devony.”
He gave her a nod, the edge of his mouth quirking in response. “Devony. That’s a hell of an improvement over Brinks. Now, stay put, Devony. Let me help you.”
Accepting his help was the last thing she wanted, but she didn’t have the strength to refuse. He slipped his hands under the jacket he’d covered her with, moving his palms over the length of her arms then along her center.
“What did you do to Jordana back there?”
“I didn’t hurt her, I promise. I just borrowed her ability . . . temporarily.”
“Borrowed it.” His brow furrowed. “You mean you absorbed it into yourself? Explain.”
She hesitated, uncertain how he would react. “I can siphon someone else’s ability. I can use it as if it’s my own. Not for long, though. I can only hold it for a few minutes.”
“That’s what you turned on Nathan when he came at you? Jordana’s power.” He shook his head, his expression grave. “No wonder. That’s about the only thing that could stop a former Hunter like him. Don’t make the mistake of thinking he’ll give you a chance to do it again.”
Devony wasn’t surprised to hear that Jordana’s mate had been one of those formidable assassins. When he’d come at her, explosive in his fury, she had almost resigned herself to the fact that her next breath
might be her last.
But Jordana’s power had protected her.
Not even a massive, clearly lethal Breed male like Nathan was any match for the light that had manifested in Devony’s hands.
“What is she, Rafe? Jordana . . . she isn’t Breed like you or Nathan. She isn’t a daywalker like me, either.”
“No.”
“But she is an immortal?”
His lengthy silence neither confirmed nor denied it. But he obviously wasn’t going to give her any more than that. The message in his stony expression was clear enough.
He didn’t trust her. Not with information about people he once cared about. He probably didn’t trust her with anything.
Not that she should blame him, considering the way Cruz had set him up tonight. Choosing the MFA had been Rafe’s test. She doubted Cruz could have anticipated they might run into someone he knew. The gang leader was cruel at times, but she wasn’t ready to give the man that much credit.
And while Devony didn’t have an obligation to clue Rafe in about Cruz’s intentions, she couldn’t deny that her guilt had been gnawing at her the entire time.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you where we were going tonight.”
Rafe grunted. “Don’t worry about it.”
His reply was clipped, toneless. She couldn’t decide if that was because he expected everyone to betray him, or only her.
“Well, I’m saying it anyway, Rafe. I am sorry. Cruz told me he was going to test you somehow, but I didn’t know the details. And I didn’t know there was a chance we could run into friends of yours.”
His gaze clashed with hers. “I said forget it. And they’re not my friends. Not anymore.”
“But they were once?”
He blew out a harsh sigh. “Yeah, they were. Nathan is the captain of my old patrol team. He was one of my best friends.”
“Then why aren’t you still with them? How could the Order just cut you loose?”
“I fucked up, all right?” His eyes flashed, hot and fiery. “That’s all you need to know.”
His curt, defensive reply jarred her. Whatever he’d done bothered him deeply. He may not trust her with information about his former friends or anything else, but there was no denying the honesty in his voice now. Nor in his handsome, tormented face.
Yet for all his irritation with her probing, his hands remained warm and soothing on her.
She sighed and let her eyes drift closed for a moment, hating how easy it was to melt into the pleasant heat of Rafe’s touch. Energy flowed back into her by the moment, drawing away her pain. With the power of his bare hands, he was reversing the physical toll she paid for using her ability.
Healing her, much like he had done for Fish the other night.
“You saved my life back there,” he murmured. “Hell, you saved both of us tonight. I should be thanking you for that, not snarling at you.”
“It’s all right.” She lifted her lids and found him watching her. The intensity of his gaze unsettled her, even as it stirred something deep inside her. Something more than just the remarkable energy of his healing hands.
His eyes searched hers as he continued to restore her depleted body. “I’ve never seen an ability like yours before. Jesus, Devony. Do you realize what you could do with a gift like that? No enemy could stand against you. You could be unstoppable.”
She never had enemies, not until a few months ago. As for using her gift? From the time she was a child, she had been cautioned to take care with her unique Breed ability. Her brother too. Both daywalkers, both the children of their genetically enhanced mother, Camilla, she and Harrison shared this incredible, inherited gift. They had been raised to respect the power they could wield at their will.
“I don’t feel very unstoppable now,” she said, mortified to still be lying helplessly across his lap. “As you can see, once the effect wears off I’m useless for a while. Total crash and burn situation.”
“So, this always happens to you afterward?”
“Yeah. More or less.” In tonight’s case, it was definitely more. Her limbs had felt stretched, wrung out. The rest of her body had felt sapped and deflated, a husk that was only now beginning to come back to life. Her vitality was returning swiftly now, energy moving through her veins and bones.
All thanks to Rafe.
And while there was nothing sexual about his touch, it was impossible for her to ignore the pool of heat that began to bloom in her core as his palms skated over her clothed body. She shifted on his lap, unsettled by the quickening of her blood and the arousal that was licking through her senses.
A quiet moan escaped her before she could curb it. Rafe answered with a low, strangled groan. His hand went still on her belly, and she felt the outline of his broad palm and each strong finger as if his touch were branding her.
“Rafe . . .” She didn’t know what she was going to say.
His eyes met hers, something unreadable flickering through them now. Her throat jammed with a hundred unsettling thoughts, words she hardly dared to speak out loud.
Especially to him.
His glance drifted to her parted lips and hesitated there. Was he thinking about the way her mouth had felt on his in the parking lot outside Ocho’s garage?
God knew, she had been unable to put that kiss out of her mind for even a second since it happened.
And in spite of her outrage at the time—in spite of her threat to ash him for it—right now, she couldn’t think of anything she wanted more than to feel his lips pressed against hers again.
Now that her limbs were her own to command once more, she slid her hand tentatively over his.
Rafe’s expression darkened into a scowl. But in his eyes, embers smoldered. A tendon pulsed in his rigid jaw, as if her tenderness confused him.
Or worse, piqued his mistrust.
On a gravelly, uttered curse, he drew his hand out from under hers.
Clearly, he hadn’t intended their kiss to be anything more than a means to an end. Just his way of forcing her to reveal herself as Breed so he could use the knowledge against her.
If she had read anything more into it, the mistake was all hers.
“How do you feel?” he asked as his touch left her completely.
“Better.” She felt foolish, honestly. Naïve to have imagined his care with her tonight was inspired by anything other than gratitude. Lifting off his lap, she pushed his jacket toward him. “Thanks for the help. We’d better get back to Ocho’s. Cruz will be wondering what happened to us by now.”
He gave her a dark look and cleared his throat. “Before we do that, we need to talk.”
“About what?”
“You can start by telling me what you’re doing with men like them in the first place. You have no loyalty to Cruz. If you were truly one of his gang, you wouldn’t be deceiving them about the fact that you’re Breed.”
“I have my reasons.”
“What are they?”
“Personal.”
He shook his head. “Maybe before, but not now. Not when I have to decide whether to keep your secret from Cruz and protect your interests, or tell him and look out for my own.”
So, there it was. He’d just played his best card. The one she had personally handed to him earlier tonight.
“I knew it wouldn’t take long before you threatened to expose me to them,” she said, feeling stung and cornered. “To think, just a few minutes ago you were thanking me for saving your ass. I guess it’s good to know what your gratitude is worth.”
She rose from the bench, but Rafe stood with her. Face to face, with only inches between them, there was no way to avoid his probing stare.
“You’re in over your head, Devony. What happened here tonight has only increased the odds that you’re going to get hurt. Or worse. You need to know you’re dealing with some very dangerous individuals.”
“Does that include you?”
He didn’t have to confirm it. The sheer starkness of his expression took he
r aback. There was a bleak truth in his eyes, one that chilled her.
“You say you have your reasons for being here. So do I,” he said, speaking with the calm smoothness of a diplomat rather than the lethal male he’d just reminded her he was. “I’m not here to make friends . . . or anything else. But I don’t want us to be enemies, either.”
She scoffed. “What a relief. Either way, it appears we’re at an impasse.”
“Maybe it doesn’t have to be that way.”
She eyed him warily. “Then what would you suggest?”
“A truce, for now. A mutually beneficial one. I keep your secret, so long as you have my back inside the gang. That means you keep me informed of all activity, and you alert me if Cruz has plans to cross me or test me the way he did tonight. In return, I’ll provide cover when you can’t show your true nature in front of the men.”
She wanted to balk at the proposal, but what other choice did he leave her? And while she wasn’t looking to make friends either, the thought of having someone to confide in, to lean on, was sorely tempting.
Especially when the alternative was forfeiting months of effort in trying to find a link to her true enemy, Opus Nostrum.
Rafe held out his hand. “Do we have a deal?”
Devony slipped her fingers into his grasp, hoping she wasn’t making the mistake of her life in allying with him, even under the confines of their wary truce.
“All right, Rafe. We have a deal.”
CHAPTER 8
The parked delivery van was still warm in the lot behind Ocho’s garage when Rafe and Devony made it back there on foot some forty-five minutes later.
Soaked from the rain, Rafe’s mood following the near-disaster in the museum and his conversation with Devony afterward hadn’t been improved by the three-mile trek in the cold drizzle. He vibrated with anger as they entered the garage and found Cruz and the rest of the crew in the midst of pouring shots and celebrating as if the whole caper hadn’t almost gone as far south as it could have.
Rafe wasn’t usually the kind to lose his shit, but thinking about how Nathan and Jordana must feel about him now ignited a volatile rage inside him. That fury only amplified when he considered that in testing his loyalty, Cruz had also risked the lives of five innocent museum guards and Jordana.
