by Adrian, Lara
“Is Rafe your full name, or is it short for something?”
He exhaled a wry laugh. “My given name’s Xander, actually.” That peculiar expression on his face relaxed into a knee-melting, crooked grin. “Xander Raphael Malebranche.”
“It’s beautiful.”
He chuckled. “I’ll tell my parents you said so next time I see them.”
“How often is that?” she asked. “You haven’t spoken much about them.”
Other than his confession that he’d almost gotten his parents killed on account of his involvement with Opus Nostrum’s mole, Devony might have assumed he had no family in his life either.
Looking at him, he seemed as alone as she was. Whether his solitude was self-imposed or a result of the shame he obviously carried for having been duped by an Opus operative, she wasn’t sure.
All she did know was that he was hurting underneath the tough face he showed the world.
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen them,” he said. “A couple of months, maybe longer.”
“So, not since you left the Order?”
He drew in a long breath, turning away from her to page absently through the files in front of him. “Yeah, I guess so. Around that time.”
“Your last name,” she said, realizing it was familiar to her. “Are you telling me you’re related to Dante Malebranche?”
“He’s my father.”
“Seriously?” Devony sat back in her chair, astonished. “I don’t think there’s anyone in or around JUSTIS who doesn’t know the names of Lucan Thorne and his warrior commanders. Wasn’t your father one of the founding members of the original compound here in Boston?”
“Not quite,” Rafe said, pivoting to look at her again. “There are others who go further back with Lucan than my father. But yes, he’s been an Order warrior for a long time. He’s one of the district commanders now, heading up the operation center and patrol team in Seattle.”
“You sound very proud of him.”
He nodded. “I am. My father is an extraordinary man, not only because of his long role in the Order. He’s one of my best friends. And he casts a long shadow. My mother, Tess, as well.”
Devony knew the feeling of pride he described. Her family didn’t have the high profiles that Rafe’s and some of the other Order’s founding members had, but she had been immensely proud of her parents too. She had longed to prove herself to them somehow.
Instead, they coddled her under lock and key growing up, sheltered her. When she was old enough, they pushed her toward safe pursuits like music and dance. As if they expected her to disappoint them somehow. As if she already had.
“What does your father think about you no longer being part of the Order, Rafe?”
He shrugged, deflecting. “I haven’t asked him.”
“And your mother?”
He folded his muscled arms over his chest and held her in a narrowed stare. “Why are you asking so many questions about this?”
His defensiveness took her aback. She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I was just curious. I’m just trying to understand.”
“Understand what?”
“You.”
“What for?”
“Because I want to know more about you. Because I care . . . about you.”
She looked away from him and shook her head again. “And because I don’t have parents to talk to anymore, to ask what they think about my choices or anything else in this world. I’m just curious what it’s like to have parents who are a constant in your life.”
Rafe reached out to her, drawing her gaze back to him with his fingers resting gently beneath her chin. “What are you talking about? I know you’ve been grieving over your family these past few months, but it sounds like they’ve been gone for much longer than that.”
She hadn’t intended to carve into her own psychic wounds. Rafe’s coaxing, solemn stare drew the words out of her as easily as his caress on the side of her face. “I was alone even before my family was killed in the London bombing. My parents lived for JUSTIS. So did my brother. Their work sent them all over the world, which meant I was raised by strangers most of my childhood. Nannies, governesses, boarding schools here in the States. I felt so lonely back then. I didn’t realize it could be possible to feel even emptier, like I do now that they’re really gone. Now that I truly have no one left.”
“No,” Rafe said. “That’s not right. You’re mistaken about having no family left. You’re a daywalker, Devony. That means your mother was unique too.”
“Yes. She was born Breed, a Gen One who could also walk in daylight. Her early years were hideous. Brutal. She told me a madman raised her as part of a program for genetically designed Breed females.”
Rafe nodded as if he knew. “She was one of Dragos’s experiments. Your mother, along with the half-sisters who were also part of that program before the Order put a stop to it.”
“Half-sisters?” Devony murmured, her heart lurching to think that others had been subjected to the same awful torture her mother had endured.
“You didn’t know there were others?”
“No. I didn’t even consider there could be. Neither did my mother, I’m certain of that. She rarely spoke of that period in her life, and never that she knew of others like her.” Devony swallowed, a strange kind of hope coming to life in her breast. “How many do you think there might be?”
“I know of several personally. And the Order is working toward finding the rest. Tavia Chase is leading that effort, along with Brynne Kirkland. Until the time of the attack in London, Brynne was actually working in that city for JUSTIS.”
Devony gaped, but she couldn’t help it. “My mother had a half-sister in JUSTIS? In the London office? My God.” She sat back, feeling as if a train had just slammed into her. “She never knew. My mom was covert her entire career, rarely home. All that time, she had a sister living in the same city, working in the same organization?”
Rafe nodded. “Which means you have two aunts—one of them right here in Boston. You also have a pair of daywalker cousins, Carys and Aric Chase. They’re both working with the Order now.”
“My cousins.” She could hardly contain the bubble of excitement that swelled in her. Or the sudden flood of uncertainty. “Do you think . . . do you think they would ever want to meet me?”
He chuckled. “I have no doubt about that whatsoever.”
“Will you help? I know that’s asking a lot, especially considering the way things are between you and the Order—”
“I’ll make it happen for you, Devony. Whatever it takes, as soon as you’re ready to.”
His reply was so sincere, so resolute, she couldn’t resist wrapping her arms around him in a fierce embrace. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. I haven’t done anything.”
She drew back and drank in his handsome, solemn face. “Thank you for telling me about them. That’s more than enough right now. It’s everything.”
He tipped his head and pressed a kiss to her mouth. “You’re not alone, Devony.”
“Oh, God, I want to believe that so badly.” She stared into his penetrating eyes, watching their oceanic color begin to smolder with fire. His gaze felt like a promise, one she was afraid to trust, no matter how desperately she wanted it.
“You’re not alone anymore,” he uttered, his deep voice raw with tenderness . . . and desire.
“Make me believe it, Rafe.”
She kissed him back, letting her lips linger against his. On a growl, he dragged her off her seat and onto his lap, capturing her mouth in a deep, fevered kiss.
In the next second, he lifted her, his hands sliding beneath her backside as he pivoted and swung her up onto the worktable. They undressed each other with impatient hands, eager to be skin-on-skin. Some of the papers and stacks of files tumbled to the floor, instantly disregarded.
She hardly noticed or cared.
There was no room for thoughts of vengeance or loss or pain when Rafe had he
r in his arms.
There was only this moment. Only this man.
And the craving for him that seemed to be growing more demanding, more insatiable, each moment they were together.
CHAPTER 14
Rafe returned to his apartment in Southie as soon as night fell.
He needed a shower and a fresh change of clothes. Even more than that, he needed space to think and put his head back on straight, because the hours he’d spent with Devony were beginning to scramble his ability to focus.
As he soaked under the showerhead in his studio’s bathroom tub, he realized it wasn’t only his physical interest in Devony that disturbed him—although that was more than enough cause for alarm—it was his interest in her happiness that was the greater problem.
What the hell had gotten into him, promising he’d make introductions for her with Tavia Chase and the twins? Bad enough if he’d stopped there, but he’d also dragged in former JUSTIS agent Brynne Kirkland, divulging her relationship with the Order.
All for what? To see Devony smile? To give her some illusion of family after hearing her confess she felt unseen or abandoned by her own?
Her childhood scars weren’t his to mend. He didn’t need to assuage her sadness, especially not with information that wasn’t his to reveal, and promises he wasn’t certain how he could keep.
Not without dropping his cover.
He was treading too damn close to that line already. Sharing his thoughts about Cruz’s gang and Opus. Agreeing to partner with her, for fuck’s sake.
He must be out of his mind.
That wasn’t even the worst of the trouble he was getting himself into where the gorgeous daywalker was concerned.
He’d just been inside her for hours already today and all he could think about was how long before he could have her again.
If he didn’t know better, he’d wonder if Devony Winters didn’t also have some amount of the seductive gift that Opus’s mole had used on him in Montreal. But where he had been blinded by Iona Lynch’s mesmerizing, her psychic manipulation of his feelings and his attraction to her, the hold Devony had on him was something deeper.
It was far more powerful because it was real.
She was real.
Not perfect. Not capitulating and meek, but bold, even combative at times. Devony wasn’t the helpless waif he needed to coddle and protect, like the siren who had persuaded him into thinking that was what he wanted.
She was strong and capable, which made the rare glimpses of her vulnerability all the more authentic. Her emotional confessions were all the more impactful because she trusted him enough to let him see there were hidden cracks in her armor.
It made him feel even more protective of her, and that was dangerous territory when his feelings toward her were soft enough.
A shame his feelings were the only thing soft about him when he was near her.
He had tried his damnedest most of the day to keep a healthy distance. Trapped inside her Darkhaven during the daylight hours had been torture when it also meant no escape from his arousal. Sitting beside her, hunkered over notes and reconnaissance files, had proved an exercise in self-control, one he had barely passed.
While he worked diligently to study and analyze the intel that would aid him in his mission, his senses had been trained exclusively on her. The tempting heat of her body next to him. The intoxicating scent of her skin. The sexy, soft rasp of her voice. The curious, searching way her bourbon gaze seemed to peer straight into his soul.
She had wanted him too.
He’d felt the quickening of her pulse as they worked together in her war room. He’d heard the rapid throb of her heartbeat next to him at the table and it was all he could do to block out the enticing sound.
Each time he ventured a glance at her, his gaze was drawn to the pretty hollow below her throat where that steady pound ticked so close to the surface of her skin.
His fangs responded even now, the points digging into his tongue.
It hadn’t been long since he last fed, so he knew he couldn’t blame his thirst on simple lack of sustenance.
He couldn’t blame any of what he was feeling for her on basic biology. Not even the way his cock roused at the thought of her now, despite the fact that he’d barely given it a rest since he stepped into Devony’s house the night before.
On a frustrated groan, he cranked the spigot as far as it would go into the cold zone and let the icy water douse him.
It hadn’t really helped. When he finally stepped out to towel off, all he’d done was add freezing and irritated to his foul mood.
He didn’t expect his check-in with the Order was going to be any improvement on that front, but he needed to bring them up to speed. He could only imagine what his commanders were thinking now that they’d had a chance to talk to Nathan and hear about the near-disaster at the museum.
Throwing on a pair of jeans, Rafe headed out to the computer workstation and initiated the video link. He expected to find Gideon at the other end of the call.
Instead, it was Lucan.
“Sir,” Rafe greeted with a nod of respect.
“I hope you’re calling with some good news.”
He didn’t think getting naked with Devony Winters was going to qualify as that to the Order’s leader. Then again, it wasn’t exactly good news that he’d participated in a vault robbery of millions’ worth of priceless art, either.
He probably ought to begin with the least fucked-up aspect of his mission so far.
“I’m in with the gang. Cruz and I aren’t going to be best friends, but I think he trusts me. There’s been talk of something big coming down the pike soon. I’ll make sure I’m in on it. I’m confident we’ve found a solid link in LaSalle, one that’s going to eventually lead us to someone in Opus.”
Lucan grunted. “Glad to hear it. After that shit-show over at the MFA, I had my doubts.”
“Yeah, about that,” Rafe hedged. “How’s Jordana?”
“She’s fine. A little shaken, but that’s understandable considering the circumstances.”
“And Nathan?”
Lucan arched a black brow. “Fit to be tied, and I mean that almost literally. He was ready to kill you even after Chase informed him that you’re covert and operating with the Order’s full support.”
“So, he knows now.” Rafe nodded. “How’d he take that news?”
“You know your team captain, he’s an emotionless machine most of the time. No shock, given the way he was raised in the Hunter program. Nathan may not have said as much, but I know he’s got to be relieved. That’s not to say you won’t have to answer to him about what happened in that museum vault.”
Rafe frowned. “I didn’t know Jordana was going to be there. Hell, I didn’t even know about the heist until I was in the van and rolling with Cruz and the rest of the gang.”
Lucan nodded. “They had to test you.”
“That’s right. If I’d thought there was any chance Jordana or Carys might end up in harm’s way, I would’ve aborted the mission.”
“I know, son. When all of this is over, you’ll have to work on convincing Nathan of that.”
Rafe welcomed the chance. He had a lot of bridges to rebuild on the other side of his mission. Now, he had to add Devony’s name to that list too.
“Are you going to tell me about the woman?” Lucan’s gray gaze bore into him. “Nathan and Jordana told quite a story in their debriefing. They said she’s Breed. This daywalker, is she the female you reported on the other day, the one you said they call Brinks?”
“Her name is Devony,” Rafe said. “Devony Winters. Her father is—”
“Ah, Christ. Roland Winters,” Lucan muttered, his scowl deepening. “Why am I just now hearing from you that a goddamn JUSTIS director’s daughter is involved in this?”
“I only discovered her name last night, sir.”
“She fucking Cruz?”
“Hell, no.” Rafe’s reply came out sharper and more defensive tha
n he intended. “Devony’s not actually part of Cruz’s gang. She’s working her own mission, been embedded with them for a couple of months.”
“Embedded,” he said, suspicion rankling his forehead. “You mean as a JUSTIS covert agent?”
“No. She’s a civilian, Lucan. Actually, up until the bombing in London killed her parents and brother, Devony was a music student studying here in Boston. She’s been trying to track down the ones responsible for the attack on the JUSTIS office. She’s looking for Opus, same as we are. She wants to see them destroyed because of what they did to her family.”
“Son of a bitch.” On the other end of the video feed, the Order’s leader sat back in his big desk chair. He slowly shook his head. “We can’t have this, Rafe. She’s going to get in our way. Hell, she already is. We need to contain her. I’ll have Chase take care of—”
“Lucan.” Rafe didn’t know what he could say, how to explain that Devony had actually proven to be a help, not a hindrance, to his mission. There wasn’t anything he could say. He had to show him. “Hold on for a minute. I’m going to upload some information.”
He grabbed his phone and sent some of the photos he took of Devony’s war room and the handwritten notes her father had left behind. Then he waited, watching as Lucan reviewed the intel in unreadable silence.
“That’s just the start of the information she’s collected these past few months. The logs were assembled by Roland Winters over about a year’s time. He kept them hidden in a safe at the family’s Darkhaven in Back Bay. Devony doesn’t think he told anyone about them, including his colleagues at JUSTIS.”
“She volunteered all of this information to you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Was this before or after she drained Jordana of her power and knocked one of our most lethal warriors on his ass for more than an hour inside that museum?”
Rafe cleared his throat. “After. Devony’s got the ability to siphon another’s ability and use it herself. But it costs her. She was weak and in a lot of pain afterward. I helped her. I followed her home later, and she eventually told me everything.”
As far as field reports went, his was light on details about that night. He didn’t think the blow-by-blow was going to make Lucan any happier. Not that the shrewd Gen One needed him to color everything in. From the grim look on his face, it was obvious he understood exactly what Rafe wasn’t saying.
