“Because you hate yourself too much for somebody without a conscience. Your eyes are so fucking sad, and I want to take that look away, if only for a little while. I want to give you something good.”
A shuddering breath escaped him. “It’s been so long since anybody said anything like that to me.”
She beckoned to him. “Then let’s make up for lost time.”
Silas lay down beside her, and he dominated the bed. She couldn’t look without touching for long. Juneau ran her fingertips along his arm, tracing the lines of his tattoo.
“Does this have a meaning?”
“Each pattern represents a person.”
People you loved? Or killed? Juneau liked the element of danger and mystery that clung to him, and she had no doubt he would protect her, even if it came to violence. It already had, in fact. A primitive part of her approved.
He rolled on his side, drinking her in. She had no hang-ups about her body, and such intense scrutiny pushed all her buttons. Beneath his gaze, she arched and stretched as if in satiation. Silas drew in a sharp breath, and then he cupped her head in his head and leaned in for a kiss. Even in this, he was maddeningly gentle. His lips brushed hers repeatedly, lightly, seducing rather than conquering. She dug her nails into his shoulders and threw a thigh over his hip.
Instead of being drawn, he nibbled a path down her jaw to her throat. Tingles sparked through her, furling her nipples, and her core went liquid. God, he could nuzzle her neck all day. A whimper escaped her, and he shuddered, as if her pleasure sounds connected to his. She sank her hands into his hair, tugging not so gently.
“I need to finish,” she whispered. “The past few days have been … stressful.”
In response, he kissed a path between her breasts and down her stomach. He hooked strong arms beneath her thighs, lifted her bodily off the bed, and brought her lips to his. Dear lord. How had she done without this? It was delicious. Silas kissed her first, all softness, sweetness, and she moaned. But he wasn’t finished, thank God.
“Move for me. Show me how you like it.”
A fierce haze filled her head, urging her hips into tight circles against his mouth. She used him quite shamelessly, conscious of nothing but how he could please her: lips, tongue, whisper of teeth. Yes. The pleasure went white hot, rioting along her nerve endings, and Juneau arched as an orgasm quaked through her. He licked until it almost tickled.
With shaking fingers, she pulled him away, drawing him up to give him a sweet, hot kiss. The taste of her on his lips sent a wicked thrill through her. He touched her breasts as if he wasn’t sure he had the right, despite the fact that he’d just given her a luscious climax. Time to return the favor.
“That was lovely,” she said huskily. “But here’s the thing. I want a good, hard fucking, and it’s been a while for you. How long do you think you’ll last once you get inside me? I’m awfully hot and wet.”
He groaned. “I’ve no idea. You’re not helping by talking about it, though.”
“Don’t worry. I have a plan.”
“Should I be alarmed?”
“Certainly not.” She curled her fingers around his iron-hard erection. “I propose to take the edge off for you. Then you’ll be good to go for the next round.”
“You have a lot of faith in my resilience.”
“Don’t I, though?” Juneau pumped her fist, fingers flexing. “But you know yourself best. Want me to stop?”
His breath went ragged as he arched. “God, no.”
“Good. Because I want to watch you come anyway. I need to see your face. There’s nothing hotter than a man losing control.”
Silas fell back against the pillows, hands fisting at his sides. “Enjoy the show, because I’m getting there.”
“I know you are.” She worked her hand faster, watching his expression and adjusting the rhythm and pressure according to his reactions. “Like this?”
“Harder,” he gasped.
He bucked, helpless in her grasp, and she’d never been so turned on in her life. So big, so powerful … and at her mercy. She gave him the extra pressure, and he lost it, panting and moaning as he spiraled up.
“Look at me,” she whispered. “You’re mine when you come.”
His body locked. The orgasm rolled through him in waves that left him trembling. He spurted on her hand, on his belly, and chest. With one fingertip, she touched and tasted. Shivers wracked him; Juneau didn’t know if she’d ever seen anyone come that hard before. An odd tenderness suffused her. She picked the sheet up from the floor and used it to clean him off, and then she curled up against him.
It took him two tries to get his arm around her. “Damn.”
“Feel better?”
“Better is a nap. This is … I don’t know what this is.”
She nestled her head against his shoulder. “I’ll take that as a compliment. But I still want the sex, you know.”
“Give me a few.”
“If I must. Just remember you’re on the clock, mister.”
A startled laugh escaped him. “I seem to have lost my time card.”
“Don’t worry, I’m keeping track.”
“Are you?” He brushed the hair away from her face, gazing with an expression that unsettled her.
“I was teasing.”
“I know. It’s just … people don’t. Tease me, I mean. They look away. They hurry off. I’m not used to this kind of normal.”
She jabbed her elbow into his side. “I think I’m offended. Nobody’s ever called me normal before.”
“I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you.” Silas ran his hand down the curve of her hip and drew her atop him.
Juneau glanced down in mock surprise, admiring his erection. Damn, the man was big. “Has it been a few minutes already?”
“Looks that way.”
“Then if you don’t mind, I’ll do the honors. I’m still humming.” She reached for the condoms and drew out a foil packet.
He watched as she tore it open and then moaned when she rolled it down his cock. Huskily, he observed, “You’re good at that.”
“I’m not going to win any awards for abstinence, if that’s what you’re asking. But I’ve always been careful about it.” Her answer sounded defensive, even to her.
But it wasn’t as she’d feared. He didn’t judge her for knowing what she wanted and going after it. Nor did he condemn her because she liked sex and didn’t care whether it always occurred in the confines of a committed relationship.
Silas merely watched with silent, avid admiration as she rose up on her knees and guided him into her body. She worked slowly, stretching to accommodate him. He lay beneath her, stomach rippling with the effort of letting her set the pace. But despite his best attempts, his hands framed her hips and he pulled her down, hard.
She grinned. “Impatient?”
“Sorry. Did I hurt you?”
“No. It’s … good.” Supporting herself on his chest, she moved on him experimentally, watching his face.
As she rode, he licked his lips, eyelids drifting to half-mast. It seemed like he was in control, except his breath came in ragged gasps. Each time she pushed down, he arched to meet her, and they found a rising rhythm. Oh God. So … hot. Yeah. Like that. Need spiraled into pure and perfect tension.
“It’s been so long,” he gritted out.
That was the only warning before he flipped her beneath him and caught both her wrists above her head in one big hand. Then he set the pace, driving with long, deep thrusts. Juneau wrapped her legs around him and tilted her pelvis, moaning when his strokes became more powerful. For the first time, she felt almost overwhelmed by a lover, as if his intensity might break her wide open—and not in the physical sense.
Yet unable to resist, she tightened her thighs, working her hips faster against him.
Getting there. So close now.
She stared up into his dark, tormented eyes, the dark hair falling across his brow, and she drew him down. His lips took hers as he
claimed her body, his tongue gliding against hers. God, he tasted good, equal measures fervor and desperation. She’d never had anyone kiss her as if he were starving for her, and it sent her over the edge. Her pussy tightened on his cock, making him moan into her mouth, and then he arched, grinding into her.
“Fuck. Oh, fuck, Juneau.”
Recovering before he did, she held him and wouldn’t let go, even when their heartbeats slowed. His tears dampened the side of her neck, and what the hell did she say now? Part of her wanted never to let him go.
“Wow,” she said eventually.
Silas smiled down at her, dropped a kiss on her nose, and then went to dispose of the condom. Mmm. Delicious. She could barely remember feeling better than this. The world was crazy outside the bungalow, but she wouldn’t think about it tonight.
When he came back, he lay down beside her, gentled somehow. “How’d you come by your name anyway? It’s unusual, isn’t it?”
At this point, she didn’t even mind answering, though she’d told the story countless times. “I was conceived there. My mom always wanted to visit Alaska, and I guess she was really grateful my dad took her.”
He laughed softly and drew her into his arms again. Listening to the slow, steady thud of his heartbeat, she decided, Hell, yeah, the future can wait.
NINE
“I’m clear,” Finch said.
Mockingbird slumped in relief; he’d honestly never expected to hear from this agent again, after his signal went dead. But he must have ditched it in case the enemy was tracking it, too. “How?”
“I think a new power popped up on her radar. They lost me.”
Kestrel’s weakness offered their one saving grace. Sometimes he even planned for it and orchestrated a simultaneous firing of abilities among his agents to overwhelm her, so she couldn’t track any of them. Unfortunately for Finch, he hadn’t been able to coordinate anything on such short notice, so he’d been stuck, waiting and hoping. This was unexpectedly good news.
“Lie low for a while. I’m going to see what I can find out about what’s going on in their organization.”
“Roger that. No powers. I’m on vacation in Mexico.”
“Enjoy the sun.”
This part he loved. He didn’t need the keyboard. Instead, he thought about the information he wanted and it filled the screens around him. Which was why he always knew more about the Foundation activities than they did. If he didn’t work in a protected room, Kestrel would find him in a heartbeat. As it stood, she didn’t know where he was, and he preferred to keep it that way. But he had to be careful. Unlike most hackers, since he used his brain, he was susceptible to viruses that translated as physical ailments. It had taken him years to devise firewalls for his mind, and they were still imperfect.
“Shit,” he said.
Mockingbird read the lines a second time. Ecuador. According to the other data, that had to mean they were going after Silas after all, the sneaky bastard. He must’ve saved Finch’s ass, firing up … whatever he can do. All the more reason to get Tanager to him quickly.
He memorized the coordinates Kestrel had sent to the extraction team, and then said, “Call Tanager.” The computer complied, and in a moment, he heard Tanager’s voice.
“This better be good. I just arrived in Puerto López.”
“How? The region’s unstable.”
“I … persuaded a pilot to land a small plane nearby. Military base.”
That was Tanager, all right. She could convince her mark to do damn near anything, even if it was stupid, dangerous, or completely counter to his best interests. She was a great asset in the field.
“I know where your target is. Or at least where the strike team’s headed. You ready?”
“Always,” she said.
Mockingbird gave coordinates. Tanager scrawled the location; he heard the pen scratching on paper. “I’ll find someone to take me. Thanks for the info.”
“That’s my job.”
TEN
Silas roused early, a habit born of living so long on someone else’s timetable. He heard nothing now but the lap of the waves and the cry of seabirds. But something hid in that silence. A noise had woken him, but the sunrise kept its counsel. Still, his nerves prickled. Gently, he set Juneau away from him.
God, she was beautiful, but he didn’t linger. He couldn’t let her soft skin or pretty hair distract him. Something wasn’t right.
He crept outside and pulled his clothes off the line. Fortunately, they were dry and permitted him to dress quickly in the half-light. Cocking his head, he listened again. Then he heard them. Footsteps. They were trying to be quiet, but rocks covered the path leading down from the road, and it was impossible not to make some noise. Lots of men, incoming. He snatched her shorts and tank top, and retreated, trying to think, to plan.
It has to be the Foundation. They know, somehow. Though it sounded paranoid, he didn’t doubt his instincts, even if he didn’t understand why or how. They’d take him and kill her because of what she knew, what she’d seen. That, he could never allow. He’d promised to protect her, and he would—whatever the cost.
“Juneau,” he whispered. “Wake up. I need you to hide for me. There’s going to be a fight.”
She didn’t wake up groggy, unlike most people. By the time she got her feet on the floor, she was already stepping into her shorts, eyes gummy but alert. She didn’t even ask him any questions as she pulled the shirt over her head. Instead she cupped his face in her hands, laid a firm kiss on him, and said, “Be careful.”
Silas caught glimpses of them as they surrounded the house, geared in black, wearing bulletproof vests and carrying tranq guns. He surprised the first one at the patio door, but he silenced any outcry with a gesture, cutting off his oxygen. Agony flared, though this couldn’t kill him; it just made him wish he were dead. Blood vessels popped in his own eyes, sending jags of pain tearing through his skull.
He stayed away from inflicting wounds for a reason. Unlike other applications of his power, cutting people made him bleed as well. Though he could, in theory, skin someone alive, he’d take too much damage to walk away. Therefore, choking and broken bones offered the best solution, pain without actual injury.
The curse connected him with his victim, making Silas part of the hunter’s skin and bone. He felt each thrash, each spasm; it wasn’t empathy or telepathy, nothing so kind or clean. No, it was a death bond. When the other man breathed his last, the resultant reverb nearly knocked him on his ass.
“Fuck,” he breathed.
If there were a lot of them, the mental echo might knock him out. No. That can’t happen. If they took him, they’d terminate Juneau, and they’d never stop until they perfected his ability for use in black ops. Imagining a whole squadron of men killing in silence, without remorse, sent a cold chill through him. He just had to thresh through them, however many there were. He’d been fighting ever since he first discovered what he could do, fighting against what he might become.
Not anymore. He’d already killed to protect her. He’d do it again and again, however many times they required it of him.
Cold settled inside him as two more pushed through the back door. Silas swung around the corner to avoid the tranqs. The darts slammed into the wall, and then he took them. Twin gestures, dual focus. He’d never done that before, and anguish streaked red-black across his field of vision. These men, he didn’t choke out. He snapped their necks cleanly, as he’d sworn he’d never do again. The resultant blaze in his own spine made his eyes water, but it wouldn’t last. No damage. No broken bones. Only blood drew blood. He just had to hold on and stay alert.
How many were left? He crouched and hugged the wall, edging down the hallway. They would be coming in the front, too. Surrounding a structure was protocol for these guys. He felt shaky and nauseated from the feedback, but he forced himself to keep moving. Juneau didn’t make a sound in the closet, thank God. Silas didn’t know if he could do this, if he had to worry about her, too.<
br />
Since it wasn’t a big house, he reached the door fast. No choice. Gotta end this. He flung it open, expecting to dodge more tranqs. Instead, he found a small woman with white blond hair, cut in short, jagged strands, standing before three motionless men. They wore gear just like the others, but they’d forgotten their mission. Her voice rolled over him, sweeter than a nightingale’s song.
“You don’t want to hurt us,” she was saying softly, irresistibly. “You’re going to put down those guns, turn, and walk into the sea. Nice day for a swim, don’t you think? Then you’re going to swim until you can’t see land anymore. Once you’re out there, you’ll check out the ocean floor.”
Horror overwhelmed him. Even though she wasn’t focused on him, he felt the siren call of her voice, and he almost wanted to go with them when they took their first somnambulant steps toward the sea. Silas planted his feet and watched them go, pain pinching at his temples.
“You’re like me.”
“Nuh-uh, pal. We’re all special snowflakes … I’ve never seen the same ability manifest twice. Mockingbird thinks the abilities come from our unique genetic code. But if you mean I’m a former test subject, then …” She tapped her nose.
“Who are you?”
“Tanager will do. I’m here to extricate you, but we need to move fast, since we’ve both used our abilities at this site. Come on.”
The bounty hunters were almost at the ocean now, still shuffling like sleepwalkers. “Do you have a vehicle?”
She nodded. “It’s parked up on the road.”
“Let me go get Juneau.”
“Mockingbird didn’t say I was supposed to rescue anyone else.”
Silas spun. “It’s nonnegotiable. You take both of us, or neither. I presume you have some use for me, or you wouldn’t have come.”
The woman sighed. Her makeup looked particularly heavy in the morning light, eyes ringed in dark kohl. Her lips, too, were painted black, offering sharp contrast to her spiked platinum hair. She ran tired fingers through it and then said, “Whatever. We need to make tracks.”
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