One of the acolytes—the same female sedhi Tenthil had seen in the garage on the night he met Abella—took a single step forward. She bowed her head and crouched, deactivating her energy blade as she laid it on the ground. Without looking at Tenthil again, she rose, turned, and walked toward one of the side doors around the courtyard’s edge.
One by one, the other acolytes followed her lead, laying down their weapons and departing, none making eye contact with Tenthil as they did so. Within a minute, Tenthil and Abella were alone.
Abella returned to his side and released a shaky breath as she put her arm around him. He settled his arm over her shoulders, and they stepped down from the well together. The false sky overhead didn’t seem quite so dark while they crossed the courtyard.
When they reached the double doors, he shoved one open and crossed into the vestibule with Abella, pausing only long enough to turn and kick the door closed again. The echo of it slamming shut held a satisfying note of finality.
The Order of the Void was no longer his concern.
Eighteen
They returned to the safehouse in the Bowels after Tenthil abandoned the vehicle they’d taken from the temple’s garage and procured another hovercar. Neither of them had spoken as they traveled; Tenthil had kept a hand on her thigh, thumb brushing absently over her pants, and she’d held her hand atop his. That simple contact had been enough to ground her, to chase away her sense of impossible, overwhelming vulnerability, to tell her Tenthil was real, alive, and with her.
As soon as they were inside the safehouse with the door closed, Abella threw herself against Tenthil, wrapping her arms around him. He stumbled backward into the door as he caught her in his embrace, and her hands hit the metal behind him, but she didn’t register the pain, didn’t care. She rested her cheek against his chest.
They had escaped the darkness and were together again. That was all that mattered.
She inhaled deeply, relishing his familiar scent despite it being layered with the smells of blood, smoke, and sweat. “Is it really over?”
He smoothed a palm down her hair. “Yes.”
“They won’t come after us anymore?”
“They won’t. The Master and his second are gone, and we have reclaimed our lives.”
“What was he, Tenthil? It was…it was like he was inside me. I couldn’t stop him, couldn’t push him out. He knew my past, my thoughts, my desires, everything about us.” A shudder wracked her as a phantom of the Master’s icy presence passed through her mind. Even the memory of his intrusion was almost too much to bear; it felt like insects clawing around in her skull.
“He was a kal’zik,” he replied, voice weakening as he spoke, “one of the Consortium races. They are ancient and powerful. I know little beyond that.”
Abella tilted her head back and looked up at him. His pale gray skin was splattered with blood of various hues, but one color stood out more than the rest—the crimson of Tenthil’s blood. She shifted an arm to lightly brush her fingertips beneath the scar on his right cheek, part of which—closest to the corner of his mouth—looked like it had been freshly sealed.
She’d seem the remains of the assassins Tenthil had fought in the temple, had seen the odds he’d defied to rescue her. The sight had numbed her; when the need arose, he was more a force of nature than a man, unstoppable and merciless. Nothing between him and his goal would escape unscathed.
Now, without any doubts, she understood just how strong he was, just how dangerous…and just how vulnerable.
I could have lost him.
Stepping back, Abella took his hands and led him farther into the room. She stopped him beside the bed and removed his gunbelt and weapons, carefully setting them on the nearby table, before setting to work on his armor. She let the blood-splattered plates fall to floor. Her gaze rose to his as she unfastened his shirt, pushed it down his shoulders, and slid it gently off his arms.
Tears welled in her eyes as she took in the damage wrought to his body.
Dark bruises mottled his skin in several places—the worst of them on his side and shoulders—and there was a blackened wound on his right forearm similar to the one he’d received fighting the acolytes in the alleyway several days before. His face showed more signs of bruising, and, now that she was looking closely, she knew he’d hastily bandaged his cheek scar, which had clearly split open at some point.
“Oh, Tenthil,” she whispered, lightly running her fingers over the bruises on his chest. She didn’t know what he would have looked like were he not wearing armor during the fighting—she didn’t even want to imagine. Hot tears fell down her cheeks.
He moved a hand to her face and wiped away the moisture with the back of his finger; something in his hand cracked as he moved his wrist.
She grabbed his forearm. “Stop. Please stop. Just…tell me what to do to help you.”
The left corner of his mouth lifted in a small, lopsided smile. “Love me.”
Abella stared up at him, jaw hanging open, for several seconds. “But you’re hurt! You can’t really want to…to…”
He chuckled and shook his head, mirth dancing in his silver eyes like she’d never seen. “Need a few hours to heal before that. Just need your love now. And a shower.”
Her cheeks heated, and—despite their situation, despite all they’d just gone through—arousal bloomed within her core. Something about the look in his eyes and the sound of his laughter deeply affected her. She returned the smile. “I can do that.”
After guiding him to sit on the bed, she knelt, removed his boots, and set them aside. She helped him remove his remaining clothing; his nakedness only revealed more of the damage he’d suffered. Her heart ached.
The light touch of his knuckles against her cheek brought Abella’s attention back to his face.
“You had the worst of it,” he said softly.
“How could you possibly think what I had was worse? Look at you, Tenthil. You’re covered in cuts, bruises, and blood.”
“Most of the blood isn’t mine.”
“That doesn’t change anything!”
Tenthil cupped her face, brushing loose strands of her hair back toward her ears. “My body will heal. Already is. But what he did to you…” He frowned and gently tapped the pad of his finger against her temple. “This doesn’t heal as easily. I have carried those scars for years. They are the worst of them all.”
Abella covered his hands with hers, briefly turned her face to kiss his palm, and closed her eyes as she leaned into his touch. His presence was a balm to her soul; she knew, in time, her scars from the Master would fade.
“I have you here with me now. That’s all that matters,” she said.
He stared into her eyes for a few seconds before slipping an arm around her waist, drawing her body against his, and leaning down to slant his mouth over hers. His kiss was as deep, as intense, and as passionate as his stare had been, and it sent a thrill through Abella from head to toe. Her only regret at that moment was that she still had her clothes on.
She slid her hands around his sides and up his back, careful of his wounds. She needed to touch him, to feel him, to lose herself in his embrace. Standing on her toes, she pressed her lips harder against his and opened her mouth. She moaned at the first taste of his sweet venom and flicked her tongue over the tip of his fang, seeking more.
Tenthil’s hands dropped to her ass. His fingers curled around each cheek, and he lifted her off her feet, drawing her against him. His hard cock pressed along her belly.
Abella gasped, put her hands on his shoulders, and pushed back from him, breaking the kiss. “Tenthil, your wounds!”
“They can wait,” he growled. “Need you now.”
He turned, laid her atop the bed, and quickly divested her of her boots. Her breath hitched when he grasped the waistline of her pants and yanked them down her hips and legs. He tossed them over his shoulder, spread her knees, and dropped his mouth to where she needed him most.
Abella cried
out, propping herself up one elbow as she moved her other hand to his head. She curled her fingers in his hair, and it took everything in her not to tug at those silver locks as his tongue stroked her folds, dipped into her sex, and teased her clit. Pleasure coursed through her—so strong, so intense, so overwhelming that she attempted to close her legs to alleviate it. Tenthil only tightened his hold on her thighs and spread them farther, opening her wide.
She moaned, unable to tear her gaze away him. She watched his tongue greedily lap at her, and the sight of his face between her thighs sent a fresh wave of heat through Abella.
He met her gaze. His eyes were dark, sensual, gleaming with hunger and need.
All she wanted was him. She needed him.
“Now, Tenthil. Please,” she begged. “I want you inside me. I need to feel you. All of you.”
She felt Tenthil’s fingers flex just before he surged up and over her. He caught her shirt with his hands and shredded it with his claws. He tore the tattered fabric from her body and lowered himself, settling his chest atop hers, dipping his head to claim her mouth as his.
Abella wrapped her arms around him and returned the kiss. The taste of his venom mixed with the flavor of her slick, which lingered on his lips. She relished the warmth of his bare skin against hers. It didn’t matter that the blood of their enemies clung to him; she had her beast, her mate, her love. He was alive. Alive.
He wedged his hips between her thighs, forcing them wider. A moment later, the head of his cock pressed against the opening of her sex. Abella moaned and undulated her hips.
“Now,” she breathed. “Now, Tenthil.”
Growling through bared teeth, he thrust his hips forward and sank his cock into her.
Abella gasped, tightening her arms around him. He held himself still; his shaft stretched her, filled her, burned her, and she wanted more.
He placed his hands on the bed to brace himself over her, and Abella wrapped her legs around his hips, digging her heels into his lower back to pull him deeper. His mouth hovered above hers; they shared breaths as they stared into each other’s eyes.
The fire in his gaze changed—his intensity eased without losing heat, his desperation abated without losing the glimmer of longing. Though his eyes remained fully black, a tender light shone within them. He rocked his hips, setting a slow rhythm, pressing farther into her with each undulation. Every stroke heightened her pleasure infinitesimally and stoked her desire just a little more.
Leaning his face down, he kissed her again and again, over and over—on her lips, her cheeks, her chin and along her jaw, on her neck, shoulder, and collarbone. He leaned on one elbow and trailed his hand up her body—from thigh to hip, from side to chest—to tease her budded nipple. She shivered in delight as he covered her breast with his palm.
On and on Tenthil rocked his hips without quickening or slowing his pace. She clung to him while their breathy sighs and moans filled the room and their coupling brought them ever closer to the pinnacle of ecstasy. As much as she craved that final release, this slow-building sensation was a taste of paradise all its own. There was no rush—they had time, time to be together, and she wanted to spend as many moments of her life as possible savoring her mate.
Abella’s core tightened an instant before she was swept away in a wave of pleasure. She cried out his name and chanted her love for him as she rode torrential currents of bliss. Digging her nails into his shoulders, she tilted her head back and bared her throat, silently begging for her mate’s intoxicating bite.
Tenthil groaned and moved his mouth up past her collarbone. His warm breath tickled the skin between her neck and shoulder for a moment before his fangs sank into her flesh. The brief prick of pain, followed by two rushes of exhilarating heat—venom flowing from his fangs and his seed pumping into her—launched her climax to new heights.
Muscles tensing, Tenthil growled against her shoulder. He tightened his hold on her and quickened his hips, pistoning back and forth until he and Abella, shuddering with the overwhelming power of their pleasure, collapsed onto the bed.
Abella ran her hands over Tenthil’s back as they lay there wrapped in each other’s embrace. A thrill pulsed through her with each of the little tremors that flowed through him. Turning her head, she brushed her lips over his temple and held him tighter.
Tenthil’s chest rumbled, and he rasped her name against her neck before lifting his head and looking into her eyes. His brow softened as he brushed the backs of his clawed fingers over her cheek.
“Never letting go again,” he whispered.
She’d been angry that he’d withheld information from her, that he’d refused to bring her to the human embassy, that he’d claimed her as his without her say, but she would endure all of it again and again so long as it brought her back to this moment. Back to these feelings; she was protected, cherished, loved.
She would endure a hundred times as much so long as it brought her back to him.
Abella smiled and slid her hand to the nape of his neck. “Never.”
Nineteen
Abella glanced down at the tiny red mark on her wrist for what must’ve been the thousandth time and brushed a fingertip over it. In another day or two, it would fade away, but its significance would remain with her forever.
Alkorin had kept to his word—in four days, he’d created two ID chips with complete background information and integrated them into the Consortium systems. His delivery of the chips as promised had been enough to finally earn Tenthil’s trust. They’d theorized together that Tenthil and Abella had been sold out to the Order by one of the informants who’d originally guided them to the forger. Alkorin had vowed to rectify the matter.
But none of that could bother Abella now; she and Tenthil were registered citizens of Arthos. They were free to go wherever they wanted.
Smiling, she looked at Tenthil as he maneuvered the hovercar into an upward-slanted express tunnel. His face—along with the rest of his body—had already healed the injuries he’d suffered at the temple. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d mentioned he healed fast. Abella, on the other hand, still sported some faint green and yellow bruising on her cheek.
Leaning toward Tenthil, Abella pressed her lips to the scar at the right corner of his mouth.
He smiled the sort of easy, carefree smile she never would’ve expected him capable of when they first met. “Look outside.”
“Why? All these tunnels look the same to me. I much prefer looking at you.”
“Trust me.”
With a chuckle, she turned her head to look out the window.
The lights, other vehicles, and signs—the latter of which were in alien characters she didn’t understand—flitted by in an almost hypnotic blur; it reminded her a little of the antigrav trains she’d taken to visit her family after she’d moved away for dance school, many of which had traveled at high speeds through long, subterranean tunnels.
The quality of the light changed gradually, growing brighter and somehow purer. She faced forward to see a wide opening ahead.
When they exited the tunnel, she had to lift a hand and squint to shield her eyes from the intense light. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust, and a few seconds more to realize it was natural light. She hadn’t seen natural light in years.
The hovercar climbed at a sharp angle, moving with the nearby vehicles through several free-floating rectangular frames that must’ve been there to guide traffic. Abella found herself staring up at a sky tinted pink, orange, and gold, dotted with soft clouds stained the same colors. She quickly blinked away the tears suddenly misting her eyes.
When the hovercar finally leveled out, Abella’s breath caught in her throat. A massive city sprawled out before her, stretching beyond the limits of her vision. Buildings of wildly varying size, shape, and architecture stood all around, many of them towering over the hovercar, which itself had to be hundreds of meters off the ground. Streets and walkways spanned gaps above and below in numerous tiers, reminding
her a little of the Undercity—but this place was open to the air.
Plants in colors and varieties she couldn’t have imagined in her wildest dreams adorned many of the buildings, and there seemed to be fountains, statues, and waterfalls everywhere. Sparkling canals of pure, cerulean water wound through the city, culminating at a massive lake far to the hovercar’s left. More buildings stood along the lake’s far shore. Countless vehicles darted between and above the buildings, following the rectangular frameworks in seemingly endless streams, and tens of thousands—if not millions—of aliens wandered the streets and walkways.
Several clusters of buildings stood out from the rest—taller, more majestic, each group unified in its own unique style and coloration. They shone like beacons amongst the somewhat disjointed but no less beautiful structures surrounding them. She’d heard just enough about the city above the surface to guess that those clusters were the sanctums—the strongholds and sanctuaries held by the races comprising the Consortium.
But it was the city’s backdrop that awed her more than anything else. The source of that bright, natural light wasn’t a star like she’d expected—the sky was red near the horizon, colored by what looked like a huge, swirling cloud that was brightest near its center. A beam of light pierced its middle, fading somewhere high above. Though the beacon-like sanctums were dim compared to that column of light, they each seamed aglow just a hint of its impressive luminosity.
“What is that?” she asked.
“A quasar,” Tenthil replied. “The Consortium draws energy from it to power this city.”
“I’ve never seen anything like it. I mean, I vaguely recall hearing about them, and I think I’ve seen a picture or two, but Earth has nothing like this.”
“It doesn’t.”
Something in Tenthil’s tone pried her attention away from the beautiful, alien sky.
Abella turned her head to find him staring intently at her. Her face warmed under the intensity of his gaze, and she smiled. “There are plenty of others like me on Earth. Everywhere you look, there’s another human.”
Silent Lucidity Page 31
