Blaze of Memory

by Singh, Nalini

  That was a question the Ghost had never answered. But it wasn’t, Judd thought, the simple need to put the Net into better hands. Something far more personal drove the rebel.

  Now, the Ghost rose. “I’ll answer that question when I’ve completed the task demanded by that loyalty.”

  Until then, Judd thought, they’d continue to fight this war, not knowing if, when push came to shove, it would be the Ghost’s logic or his ruthlessness that would prevail.

  CHAPTER 45

  Dev had the jet fly them to a private landing strip near his home in Vermont. Having had to make the long drive from the isolated bed-and-breakfast to the airstrip where the jet was waiting, they arrived in the late afternoon. Jack had called earlier to delay their meeting till the following day, so Dev had a few hours’ grace, and he needed that time to think, to plan. Not only about what he’d say to his cousin, but also about how to end Ming’s terrorization of Katya.

  His hand fisted so tight, his bones ground together.

  “Stop it.” Katya put her hand over his. “Don’t let him destroy you.” Her voice was husky, she’d been trying to talk him out of his decision since before dawn.

  “Should I let him destroy you instead?” He curled his fingers around hers.

  “Dev.”

  He didn’t say anything, and she finally went quiet. The rest of the trip passed in an edgy silence, but he didn’t make the mistake of thinking she’d given up.

  “I thought you needed to return to New York,” she said as they walked into his home. She frowned. “Dev, was the door unlocked?”

  “No.”

  Her concern evaporated as she realized he’d probably had some kind of a remote in the car. “New York?”

  Striding upstairs to throw their duffels into his bedroom, he called back over his shoulder, “I need some quiet time.”

  As she watched him come back down the stairs, she found a thread of laughter inside her. “So we’ll be sleeping in separate bedrooms tonight?”

  Leaning against the wall, he crooked a finger. “Come here and I’ll tell you.”

  “Do you think I was born yesterday?” Folding her arms, she shook her head. “I’m staying right here, Mr. Santos.”

  He straightened, the barest hint of a smile curving his lips. “Then I guess I’ll have to come to you.”

  An almost desperate need took hold of her as he walked over. Her time was running out. She hadn’t had a nosebleed today, but a headache pounded at the back of her skull with relentless force. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. It made her want to curl up in a little ball and whimper.

  But she wasn’t going to waste time doing that, not when she had so little left.

  Dev’s smile turned grim as he came to stand in front of her. “How bad is it?” His fingers settled gently on her temples.

  She melted into the touch. “I thought you weren’t that strong a telepath.”

  “I was waiting for you to tell me,” he said. “Or were you going to pretend you were fine?”

  She recognized that she was being reprimanded, even though it was being done in that quiet, reasonable voice. “There’s not much we can do. I have to deal with it using the usual mental exercises.”

  “They haven’t worked for the past ten minutes, have they?”

  Realizing his mind was far too acute to miss anything, she gave in. “Do you have an alternative?”

  “Possibly,” he said, to her surprise. “My ancestors were a rebellious lot, in case you hadn’t guessed.”

  “Really?”

  That got her a small smile. “Cheek suits you.” A kiss so tender, tears burned at the backs of her eyes. “Sometime after they dropped out of the Net, one of the M-Psy started questioning the accepted knowledge that Psy react badly to all narcotics and painkillers.” His fingers drifted down to the back of her head, pressing lightly.

  It felt so good, she couldn’t stop her little murmur of relief. “Did the M-Psy find a solution?” she said after almost a minute.

  “Not a drug one.” He shook his head. “You full-bloods are appallingly weak.”

  “And you half-bloods can’t even telepath a foot.”

  A nip at her lower lip. “But, he did figure out a way to alleviate pain through the use of pressure points during massage.”

  “Did your ancestors pass the knowledge on to those in the PsyNet?”

  “What do you think?”

  Sighing, she placed her forehead against his chest, realizing the pain was already starting to fade. “The Council wouldn’t have wanted any such close-contact healing when Silence was so young, so easily broken.”

  His fingers went down her neck, to her shoulders, then back up. “Yes. And then later, the touching would’ve gone against the conditioning.”

  “Sounds about right.” Her arms were around his waist, the heat of him a familiar stroke. I’ll miss you so. Dev trusted her enough to let her roam the house and grounds alone now. He’d never expect her to run. But she had to. Because if she didn’t, she was terrified she’d lose herself to Ming’s control, try to spill Dev’s blood.

  And once she was gone, Dev would have to drop his idea of going after Ming—no plan would work without her active participation. He’d be safe.

  “Come to bed,” he murmured against her ear. “I’m in a good mood—I’ll give you a full-body massage.”

  “How generous,” she teased, headache less than a dull throb now. “This has nothing to do with getting your hands on my naked body?”

  Kisses brushed along the shell of her ear. “Of course it does—I don’t massage for free.”

  She let him tug her into the bedroom, let him shut the door, strip off their jackets. Just once more, she told herself. Afterward...after he was asleep, she’d sneak out. He hadn’t reset the house alarm, and that would have been the biggest hurdle. It would take an hour to reach the main road on foot, perhaps longer, but she had time. All the time in the world. Because she had no destination... aside from getting away from Dev.

  But right this moment, she wanted simply to breathe in the scent of him, until it was imprinted into her very cells. When he pressed her back against the door, his hands on either side of her, she wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled in welcome. “Do I get a kiss before my massage?”

  “Since you asked so nice.” His lips were smiling when they touched hers, and she’d never guessed until this moment what it was to kiss a man you could laugh with. They smiled through the entire kiss, as he sipped at her, before slicking his tongue over her lips.

  She danced her own tongue playfully over his, flirting but never delivering. He nipped at her in sensual punishment before taking her mouth with a dominance that was as natural to him as breathing. And through it all, he kept her pinned to the door, his heavier body a delicious source of pressure.

  Smoothing her hands over his shoulders, she slipped her fingers under the sleeves of his T-shirt, glorying in the quint-essentially male strength of him. “Take off your T-shirt.”

  “I’m starting to think the headache was a ploy so you could have your wicked way with me.”

  A teasing Dev, Katya found, was a devastatingly sexy Dev. “You look hot—I thought it would cool you down.”

  That got her another laughter-filled kiss. He backed off only for the moments it took to strip off his T-shirt and throw it to the floor. She couldn’t help but spread her fingers over the silky-rough surface of his chest as he returned to claim her mouth, his own hand closing possessively over her hip.

  A single squeeze and she trembled. Feeling him smile at her response, she scratched her nails lightly down his back. “Again,” he ordered, his voice husky.

  When she did, she had the pleasure of feeling his big body shudder before he raised one hand to the back of her neck, kneading the tense muscles in a firm yet gentle sequence that made her moan as the last vestige of pain was replaced by pleasure, her body softening even further for him.

  “Good?” An intimate murmur as she nuzzled against him.
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  “Mmm.”

  He continued to use those strong fingers on her, his head dipping to kiss the sensitive skin of her neck. Stroking her hands down his sides, she undid the top button of his jeans. He stilled but didn’t stop her. And when she lowered the zipper, he sucked in a breath. Feeling bold and free and unashamedly female, she slid her hand beneath the waistband of his underwear.

  “Katya.”

  Biting down gently along the tendon stretched taut on his neck, she caressed him, slow and easy, knowing it would drive him crazy in the best way. “How did I get to be the one giving the massage?”

  A strained chuckle against her ear, a bitten-off curse. “Harder.”

  She did the opposite.

  “You’re going to get in trouble if you keep doing that.”

  Pressing an openmouthed kiss to his neck, she resumed her lazy stroking. “I’m not scared of a little trouble.”

  He pulled off her hand with such speed—pinning her wrists on either side of her head—that she barely had time to gasp in a breath before he kissed her...before he took her. She let him. Because, quite simply, there was something to be said for a man who knew what he wanted and made no bones about demanding it.

  The feel of his strong hands on her wrists simply enhanced her pleasure. She tried to pull away, but only because it amplified the sensations. Dev knew. He used his body to hold her in place, even as his lips insisted she return every kiss, every little bite, every breath.

  She gave him all she had.

  And still he asked for more.

  Melting, she ran the back of one foot over his calf, urging him closer. Her reward was the release of her hands, as his own slid down her back, pulling her up. Instinct had her putting her legs around him in a shockingly intimate embrace, the hottest part of her pressed to the hardest part of him.

  But even then he wasn’t satisfied. He shifted her until she was exactly where he wanted her. The pressure on her clitoris made her suck in a gasp, grip at his shoulders. “I can’t—”

  “Yes, you can.” Another thorough kiss, their tongues dancing, tangling, loving. “Just a little more.” He moved his body against hers, not gently, not hesitantly—no, this time, Dev was determined to push her over. And push her over he did. Into an erotic whirlpool from which there was no escape.

  When her lashes finally lifted, she found herself being dropped lightly on the bed. Looking up, she watched as Dev pulled off her shoes, kicking off his own as he prowled up onto the bed from the other end. “You,” he said, his eyes taking a slow journey down her body, “are seriously overdressed for the occasion.”

  “I’m too sated to move.”

  “I’m too happy to assist.”

  Feeling another smile bloom on her face, she let him unbutton her shirt. His fingers danced over her breasts as he pushed the fabric to either side of her body, half baring her . . . but making her feel far more naked than if she’d been stripped. The paradox intrigued her, but nowhere near as much as the golden heat in Dev’s eyes.

  Her body beginning to coil again, she bit her lower lip as he shifted to undo her jeans. Pulling both the denim and the soft cotton of her panties down in two quick tugs, he threw the clothing to the side and returned to her—taking a seat between her thighs.

  Cheeks flushing as he ran his hands down the upper slope of each thigh, his eyes locked with hers, she swallowed. “I’m not completely naked, and yet, I feel so exposed.”

  “You look beautiful,” he murmured, his gaze on the unsteady rise and fall of her breasts. Reaching up, he tugged at the cup of her bra until it slid aside to reveal a nipple, taut and begging for his touch. “Beautiful,” he said again, dipping his head to take the hard nub into his mouth.

  She cried out, the suction reaching straight through to the liquid heat between her thighs. Dev’s knuckles brushed over her damp curls at that very moment. “Oh.”

  “So soft.” Grazing her nipple with his teeth, Dev rose to look down at her.

  She felt an absolute creature of the senses at that moment, flushed and without inhibitions. Reaching up, she went to caress him, but he stopped her hands. “It’s my turn, remember?” And the wicked glint in his eye was the only warning she had before he began to kiss his way downward. She tried to grab at his shoulders, but he simply chuckled and kept going.

  His kiss was hot, dark, wicked.

  It was all she could do not to sob from the pleasure of it. Clutching at the sheets with desperate hands, she made no protest when he spread her thighs even farther and settled in to taste her as if she were some exotic banquet, and he a connoisseur.

  “Shh.” Strong hands stroked her down as he laved kisses on the delicate skin of her inner thighs.

  But just as she’d almost gotten her breath back, he kissed her with that same devastating intimacy a second time, the tenderness of his touch doing nothing to hide the possessiveness. Part of her was convinced he knew she’d decided to leave him, but that thought was less than a flicker in the back of her mind. Right now, the endorphins flooding her body left no room for anything but pleasure.

  Slow, seductive, sizzling.

  A single lick and it was too much. She twisted away, desperate to escape . . . yet wanting more at the same time. “Dev.”

  Holding her hips in place, he pressed his lips to her navel. “Trust me.”

  She trusted him more than she’d ever trusted any other being. “I need you.” It was a dangerous confession, but she had no barriers left.

  His hands tightened on her, and then he was moving over her body in a molten wave of kisses, touch and pure heat. She found her lips taken again, even as he reached between them to free himself, shoving his clothing down just enough. It was still too slow—she was rubbing herself against him by then, hungry, so desperately hungry.

  “Katya, baby, stop.” It was a groan. “I can’t hold on if you do that.”

  She raised her lips to his again, infusing her kiss with every ounce of passion in her. Shuddering, Dev gripped her hard on one hip. “I sure hope you’re ready, sweetheart.”

  “Yes, yes!” Crying out as her body stretched around the hard thrust of his entry, she wrapped both legs around his waist. And then she let him lead.

  He took her on a ride that eclipsed anything they’d ever before done. Wild, untamed, and vividly physical, they danced. The last thing Katya remembered was seeing Dev’s eyes shimmer gold.

  CHAPTER 46

  “Shower,” Dev said, all but carrying her to the bathroom.

  “Later.”

  He pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “We’re both sweaty—and I need to get some work done.”

  Holding on to him, she let him turn on the shower. The warm spray washed off the sweat of their lovemaking, and that was all they were capable of then. Dragging her out of the bathroom, Dev rubbed her down before doing the same to himself, while she tried to keep herself upright.

  Just when her legs threatened to go out from under her, he dropped the towel and grabbed her. “We do that again,” Dev muttered, “and I might not live to tell the tale.”

  Nuzzling her smiling face into the damp heat of his neck, she let him carry her to bed, lay her down on the tumbled sheets. “I’m so sleepy.”

  “Yeah, might be a good idea to catch an hour’s shut-eye,” he said with a yawn. “We didn’t get much more than three hours last night.”

  As he pulled the blanket over them, her lashes fluttered down. Body sated and wrung out, she tried to remember what she had to do. Leave. Yes, she had to do that.

  But then Dev put an arm around her waist and pulled her close, and she surrendered to the selfishness in her that wanted another moment, another minute, another hour with him. I’ll go once he falls asleep, she promised herself, never realizing that she was sliding into the same dreamless void herself.

  Dev felt Katya leave the bed, his senses coming half-awake as he waited for her to return from the bathroom. It took him too long to realize he couldn’t hear the tap running, any sounds at
all. “Katya?”

  He opened his eyes just in time to see her run into the room, the light from the setting sun dancing off the deadly blade in her hand. Snapping to full alertness as she lifted the murderous blade high above her head, he went to roll away, but something stopped him. The angle of the knife, it was wrong—“Katya!”

  Blood spurted as she thrust the knife into her own thigh, crashing to the floor with a shattered cry of pain.

  He was kneeling beside her almost before he remembered moving, his heart a hammer against his ribs, his entire body taut with adrenaline that had nowhere to go. “God damn it, baby.” His words came out harsh, angry, even as he flicked on the light and focused on the wound, trying not to let the sound of her pained breathing distract him from doing what he had to do to help her.

  But he couldn’t stop the stream of angry words. “What the hell did you think you were doing? You could’ve hit your femoral artery.” He was fucking glad to see that she hadn’t. The knife, however, had gone in deep. “If you wanted to die, you should’ve told me. I’d have done it for you.”

  He gripped her leg hard, holding her in place as he reached for a nearby bureau, yanking out an old but clean shirt. “Leave it,” he snapped when she went to pull out the blade. Her silent tears grated on his every protective instinct. But he was tearing the shirt and using the material to put pressure on the wound—working around the knife embedded in her—even as she sobbed. “It’ll heal fast with the proper care, though I’ve a mind to sew you up myself. The stupidity—”

  “Dev.” Fingers on his stubbled jaw. Tear-stained eyes met his. “I was trying to kill you.”

  “So why did the knife end up in your thigh?” Under his touch, her skin was delicate, so easily bruised. “Talk.”

  A slow blink. “I couldn’t drop the knife.” She lifted her hand to her mouth as if ashamed.

  He gripped her chin. “You call me next time. You fucking scream. You don’t stab yourself.”

  “I couldn—”