Find Me In Pleasure

by Julie Kenner

  “Mal. Mal.”

  I rip his jacket off. I yank his shirt open and tug it free of his jeans. I need him. Him. Him.

  He is still inside me, and I don’t know if it is the rising terror or the passion that is edging far too close to climax. But I do know that the weapon is rising, wild and hot and fast, and I can barely hold a coherent thought, but I know enough to know that I’ve gone too far. That this time the attack worked. It wasn’t just Mal’s jacket the fuerie ripped—it was me. It was the weapon.

  It was the fabric of the fucking universe.

  Nothing makes sense because I’m losing my grip, and I’m scared. So scared.

  Oh please, no, no, no …

  My body starts to shake, to heat. It’s as if I’m turning inside out, going supernova, turning into something wild.

  I clutch at Mal, holding onto his back, my hands buried beneath his shirt as I breathe and fight, breathe and live.

  And though I do not understand how or why, I see the world overlaid upon Mal’s room, as if I’m looking at a projection of a map on a wall. I see places. I see sparks. I see energy.

  It doesn’t make any sense, and yet somehow I know. I just know.

  I understand it now, this weapon that has been a part of me for so long. That has finally risen up far enough to make my acquaintance.

  And even as I think those thoughts I can’t help but wonder why the hell I’m not dead. Why the world isn’t destroyed.

  Then I see Mal.

  His face is strained, drawn tight with pain.

  And when he opens his eyes, they are not gray but red, burning and wild and as bright as the sun.

  He’s pulling back the weapon.

  He’d said he couldn’t, but like me, Mal is stronger than he thinks, and he has pulled it down. Taking not just my energy, but energy from the weapon itself.

  And even as I realize that, everything shifts again.

  My skin no longer feels hot.

  The map that had glazed the world disappears.

  And Mal’s eyes fade back to gray.

  With a sigh, we both fall to the ground, as if nothing so weak as human flesh could hold us upright.

  “You did it.” I barely have a voice, I’m so exhausted. “You pulled the weapon down.”

  “Just barely,” he says. “I didn’t think I could—it was almost too much.”

  “But it wasn’t.” I manage to roll to him. To press my head against his chest. “You saved me. You saved the world.”

  He doesn’t smile, but I see the way his eyes crinkle with pleasure. “Maybe,” he says. “Maybe I did.”

  “I know where they are.” The words spill out of me.

  “What? Who?”

  I sit up, my head spinning a little bit. “The fuerie. I saw them. I can see them.”

  I don’t understand how, but I can feel the change in me. As if the weapon added something to my make-up. And even though the map has faded and the weapon is no longer rising, I know that I find the map again. That I can see what needs to be seen.

  He is sitting up now, too. “Tell me exactly what you’re talking about.”

  I explain what happened. “And I saw them. Spread out over what seemed like a map of the world. And it was covered with pulses. That’s their energy, I’m sure of it.” I draw in a breath, studying his face. “It’s not that hard to believe. It’s like what Dante does. I can feel them. Only not just nearby. Everywhere.”

  “Can you feel them now?”

  I take a deep breath and look inside myself, suddenly afraid that I was wrong and this isn’t a lingering gift. A little surprise perk from the devil inside me.

  But it is there. It’s really still there.

  I open my eyes and meet his. “Yes.” The word is almost a whisper. “It’s more of a blur than it was earlier. But I’ll learn to focus in.”

  “Will you?”

  I nod. “I don’t know how, but I’m certain. This weapon’s been in me a long time. Maybe all this time I’ve been slowly learning how it works.”

  His brow furrows as he considers my words. “Do you realize what this means?”

  I do. “It means we can find them. We can destroy them.” I lick my lips. “But Mal, there are a lot of them.”

  He takes my hands. “There have always been a lot of them. Because of you, we know where they are.”

  “There’s more. To tell you, I mean.”

  His eyes narrow. “What?”

  “I see something else, too. Something different. Something close.”

  “How close?”

  I scoot over so that my back is against the wall and pull my knees up to my chest. I wait until he sits up too and is looking at me. “On Manhattan.”

  He cocks his head to the side. “What is it?”

  “The amulet. At least, I think it is.” I run my fingers through my hair. “What I don’t understand is how I can sense it. I mean, it’s just a rock, right?”

  “Gemstones contain energy. There’s a reason folks say there’s fire in a diamond, after all. And stones can even trap sentient energy—that’s why we need all seven to bind the fuerie. And don’t forget about Solomon. He trapped a demon in a ring that had one hell of a gemstone.”

  He starts to push himself up off the floor.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I need to talk to Liam. Tomorrow, you’re briefing everyone.”

  “But—”

  “What?”

  I shake my head. “Nothing.” I’ve got more to tell him, because I’ve figured out how the weapon works. What it is, deep down at its core. But that doesn’t matter right now. Right now, there’s a new path. A new plan. And I understand that he can’t wait to share that news with his co-leader.

  “Go,” I say. “But hurry back to me.”

  He bends over to brush a kiss over my lips. Then he turns around and bends down for his jacket that I’d dropped on the ground. “I’ll pass if off to Jessica. Surely she knows someone who can fix the damn thing.”

  I don’t answer. How can I when my entire world has been rocked by what I’ve just seen?

  Mal’s back.

  Right where I touched him. Right where I clung to him.

  Right there on his left side where there used to be a fabulous tattoo of a phoenix.

  Now there is just clear, perfect skin.

  Some of his lost lives—the ones that went into the burn—he has them back.

  I shiver. Because what I know—what I haven’t yet told Mal—is that the thing inside me isn’t just a weapon.

  It’s life.

  But I know better than anyone that life can be dangerous, too.

  Chapter 11

  ‡

  “That’s pretty damned amazing,” Dante says after Mal and I have relayed the story to the group.

  “Understatement,” Jessica says, and the rest of us have to agree with her.

  We’re in the VIP room at Dark Pleasures, and Mal stands now to pace. “Liam and I talked through the options last night, and then again with Christina this morning. The purpose of this meeting is both information and to put a new mission plan on the table.”

  “Use Christina to eradicate the rest of the fuerie?” Dagny asks. “Sounds good to me.”

  “Glad you think so,” Mal says. “Because that’s about the sum of it.”

  “So where are they?” Callie asks. “Is there going to be a run tonight?”

  “Not tonight,” I say. “I have to learn how to pinpoint locations, but I can see enough right now to know there are no fuerie currently on the island of Manhattan.”

  Everyone looks at Dante, who closes his eyes for a moment, then nods. “I don’t have the same range, obviously, but I don’t see any nearby either.”

  “Christina is going to start daily practice,” Liam says. “She’s going to work on focus and control. And based on what she sees, we’re going to be planning and implementing bi-weekly missions.”

  I nod agreement. “I’m hoping to get the hang of it sooner
rather than later. And then maybe the missions can be more frequent, with calls going out to the other offices too, of course.”

  Raine leans back in his chair. “This really is pretty fucking incredible.”

  “Yeah,” I say. “It is.” Despite the fact that the reason I can do this is because there is a nasty weapon hidden inside me, I can’t deny that it is nice to have a purpose again. To truly be part of the team.

  “Christina won’t be going into the field,” Liam says. “And of course she’s still under strict protection until we can extract the weapon.”

  Raine shifts in his chair. “Speaking of, what about the amulet?”

  “That’s something else that Christina can see,” Mal says.

  “Not all the time, though,” I point out. “I saw it clearly last night, but this morning I haven’t seen it at all.”

  “Why not?” The question is from Asher, and it’s the only question he’s asked during the entire meeting.

  “I don’t know,” I admit. “This is all new to me, too. But I’m guessing it’s experience again. Once I learn how to use my handy new map skills, I’ll be better able to locate things. Or people.”

  “Or maybe it wasn’t the amulet you saw last night,” he suggests.

  “It’s out there,” I say firmly. “And it’s close. I can feel it. And I will find it.”

  Asher is still looking at me, his mouth a thin line, his eyes hard and flat. I expect him to ask another question, but he says nothing. Finally, he leans back in his chair and steeples his fingers on the table.

  I feel like I should shout out that the prosecution rests.

  I shove away the thought—and turn to Mal so that Asher is no longer in my line of sight.

  Mal smiles at me and nods, the motion barely there. But it’s enough to let me know that he thinks I did good. And to me, that’s the best thing I’ve heard all day.

  After the meeting adjourns, I go to him, taking comfort in the tight press of his arms around me.

  “I need to talk with Liam for a while. You want to wait here for me?”

  “No, thanks. I’m going to go back to your place.”

  “Our place,” he says, and I make a face.

  “In that case, we need to go get my clothes. I can’t keep raiding Callie’s closet. Poor Brayden’s going to forget he even has a best friend.”

  “We’ll go later today, okay?”

  I nod, because that sounds great. “It needs to be after dinner. I got a text earlier. Jefferson is sending his assistant over with some sketches and fabric swatches for the costumes, and I don’t want to miss him.”

  “We’ll make a night of it,” he says. “Maybe Bray and Dagny will want to grab a bite.”

  I grin, thinking that sounds like a wonderful idea.

  “Soon,” he says, then bends to kiss me.

  I hold him off. “I need to tell you something else. And you need to tell Liam.”

  Immediately, his expression shifts to business mode. “All right. Go.”

  “I know how the weapon works. It’s life.”

  His brow furrows. “What do you mean?”

  “It doesn’t explode so much as remake everything,” I say. “It destroys everything down to the molecular level, then starts it all up again.” I don’t feel like I’m doing a good job explaining so I try a different tact. “Think of it like that device in the Star Trek movie. Did you see it? The one with Khan?”

  He’s looking at me like I’m insane.

  I cock my head. “No way. You’ve been alive how long and you haven’t seen The Wrath of Khan?”

  “Christina.”

  I hear the warning in his voice and press on. “Anyway, that’s what it does. It’s a weapon in that it destroys. But at the same time it rebuilds.” I make a face. “From a pragmatic standpoint it doesn’t matter to us because we’re still dead. Although maybe the brotherhood wouldn’t be—I have no idea how the weapon would interact with phoenix fire.”

  “Not well, I’d imagine,” he says. “So you think this is why you can see the fuerie? Because the weapon is tied to a life-force?”

  “No. I think that’s why I could give you back some of your life.”

  He doesn’t react. He doesn’t even blink. He just stands there a moment, and then says, “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I pressed my hand to your back,” I explain. “When the weapon was rising. When it was in all of me. My skin. My cells. When I was glowing.”

  “You touched my back?”

  “Yes.” I draw in a breath. “Mal, one of your tats is gone. It’s just gone. You’re not as close to the hollow as you were. The weapon pulled you back. It’s life, don’t you see? Brutal and dangerous, yes. But there’s some serious potential there.”

  He’s staring at me with the oddest expression. “Yeah,” he finally says. “There’s one hell of a lot of potential.”

  *

  Back in Mal’s brownstone, I consider how to spend my alone time.

  A bath springs to mind, because Mal has a tub big enough to swim in. But somehow going it alone doesn’t have the same appeal.

  A nap is also an option, because the truth is that I’m tired, but I really don’t want to curl up in that wonderful, soft bed without a wonderful, hard man beside me.

  I consider exploring the house—he’s only given me a quick tour so far, and there’s a lot to see on six stories, but that’s something else I’d rather do with Mal by my side. Plus, I don’t want to seem like a snoop.

  Finally, I decide to make popcorn, sit at the kitchen table, and work on memorizing my lines.

  Tasty and productive, and after thirty minutes, I’m so into rehearsing that I’ve not only forgotten about the popcorn, but I barely hear the doorbell.

  The second time it rings, I jump in the chair.

  Jefferson’s sketches.

  “Coming!” My shout echoes through the second floor, but I seriously doubt it makes it down to the front door. And since I really don’t want Jefferson’s assistant to leave, I race downstairs in bare feet, then skid to a stop at the door. It’s the old fashioned kind with a little door-covered window instead of a peephole, and I open it and peer out. A short bald man is there with a package. He holds it up, and I can see the Story Street logo.

  “Ms. Hart? I’ve got a package for you from Jefferson Slade.”

  “Fab,” I say, then open the door. I take one step out, then reach for the pen he hands me to sign for the package. Only it’s not a pen. It’s a needle, and the bald man is jabbing it into my arm.

  Almost instantaneously, the world turns black and my knees give out.

  I feel myself falling into the bald man’s arms, and though I open my mouth to call out for Mal, I’m pretty sure that no sound comes out.

  *

  Mal tossed back the last of his scotch, then slid off the bar stool. He and Liam had just finished talking, and there was no denying that Christina’s information about the nature of the weapon was a big fucking deal.

  All of it was—the fact that the weapon was life-based rather than destruction-based. And Christina’s apparent ability to erase the effects of the phoenix fire.

  The first he’d revealed to Liam.

  The second, Mal was keeping to himself. At least for a little while.

  It was only the second time he’d kept a secret from Liam, and the first had been about Christina, too. Just a few days ago, actually, when Mal had first seen her and chosen not to kill her.

  He’d eventually revealed that one to his brothers.

  This new secret though—well, this one he intended to hold onto a little bit longer. He needed to be certain that her ability wasn’t just a one time thing. And he needed to be absolutely positive that she could access the ability without endangering herself or the world.

  Right now, though, he wanted an hour of not thinking about it. Of not thinking about anything, actually.

  All he wanted to do was get home and hold her, and he headed toward the door with th
at goal firmly in his mind.

  He didn’t make it.

  Instead, he was waylaid by Raine.

  “Sorry I was an ass the other day,” Raine said, and Mal knew he was referring to Mal’s decision to have Dante tail Christina home one night before she and Mal were together. Unobtrusive but necessary protection. “I understand why you sent him instead of me. I just don’t like it.”

  Mal pulled out a chair and sat across the chessboard from his friend. “None of us like it,” he said. “We’d like it less if you end up hollow.”

  “Yeah. True that.” He lifted his glass in silent toast to Mal and then downed his scotch. “I have to say you two look good together.”

  “So do you and Callie,” Mal said.

  Raine’s eyes lit up. “I don’t know how I survived before her.” He made a face. “Oh, wait. I didn’t survive. I was like the walking dead until I had her in my arms.” He ran a finger through his hair. “I was such a damn idiot, taking stupid risks. And now every day I’m afraid I’m going to lose her. And she’s afraid of it, too. Do you know she doesn’t even want me taking my bike out?” he asked, referring to his very sweet motorcycle.

  “She just worries,” Mal said.

  “Oh, I get it. She’s worth any sacrifice I have to make. But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss getting into it. Getting my hands dirty.”

  Mal said nothing.

  “It’s just that if I was a mortal cop or fireman, would anyone be making a big deal about me going on patrol or heading off to fight a fire?”

  “Probably not,” Mal said. “But in our situation, you wouldn’t just be dead, man. You’d be gone. Mentally checked out forever. How would she deal with that? Even if you told her now to move on, do you think she could or would? You know she wouldn’t. You’re her world now. The pain you felt when you thought she was gone, that’s what she’ll feel if you’re lost in the hollow.”

  “I know. I get it.” Raine picked up the black king and rolled it between his fingers. “I didn’t think anything scared me anymore. But that does. The possibility that I could end up in the hollow and leave her alone. That’s what I hate. That’s what I fear.” He met Mal’s eyes. “Christ I love her.”