Burning Ash (Forgotten Brotherhood)

by N. J. Walters

  He ran his hands up the insides of her silken thighs, widening them as he went. The hot, musky scent of her arousal made his head spin. The silken folds were wet and swollen.

  He licked his lips in anticipation.

  “The waiting is killing me.” She tilted her hips upward.

  “We can’t have that, can we?” He leaned forward and dragged his tongue over the slick folds, lapping up her essence. Her moan vibrated deep in his bones. Her taste soothed the darkness inside him.

  “Yes. Don’t stop.”

  “Never.” The only way he’d stop was if she commanded it. Did she understand she owned him heart and soul? It should worry him, but he was beyond caring.

  She cried out when he sucked on her clit. Arched up when he teased her with his fingers before pushing them inside.

  “Asher.”

  Was there any sound sweeter than his name falling from her lips while she was on the edge of orgasm?

  “Come for me.” He wanted to be inside her but needed this first. To prove to both of them that he was capable of giving, of putting her needs before his own.

  She threw her head back and her mouth opened on a silent scream. Her inner walls rippled around his fingers and moisture coated his hand. Satisfied, he laid his head on her thigh.

  …

  A huge lump pressed on Jo’s chest. She’d done it again. Flinched when his lips brushed her neck. She hadn’t meant to. It was an involuntary reaction. It was burned into her DNA to pull away from any vamp getting that close to the vulnerable area. Didn’t make any sense considering they were lovers, but then some things never did.

  Take them. They made no sense at all—an immortal vampire assassin and a human vampire slayer. Yet somehow, they seemed to fit.

  She’d hurt him, and still he’d given her an amazing orgasm. Asher was a generous lover, always seeing to her pleasure first. Even now, he was seemingly content to use her thigh as a pillow and not press her for more.

  Wasn’t it time she stopped holding back?

  What was she waiting for? Life was short. Hers was even more precarious.

  And really, what did suppressing her emotions really do? Her heart would still ache if something happened to him. She’d grieve for him for the rest of her life if he was lost to her.

  Her heart already belonged to him.

  And wouldn’t it be harder on him? He’d be here long after her body was dust. They both knew it.

  Loving someone and the memories of that were what sustained people through the hard times. Didn’t he deserve some of those memories if he was willing to accept the pain?

  When she pushed up onto her elbows, he stirred and smiled. His blond hair fell around his face, and his olive-toned skin glowed. A sleepy, satisfied look was reflected in his eyes.

  “Thank you.”

  His smile widened. “My pleasure.” When he licked his lips, she shivered. He certainly knew how to use his mouth.

  “It will be.” It was time for her to give back. Not because she had to, but because she wanted to.

  She ran her index finger down the center of his chest. The sleek, hard muscles of his torso bunched and flexed beneath her touch. It was like stroking a big jungle cat. At any second, he could explode into action and take down prey, but he welcomed and invited her touch. She paused just above his erection. “That looks uncomfortable.”

  “It is, terribly.” The brown of his eyes was so dark, they were almost black. His nostrils flared, and his breathing deepened.

  She smiled at the hint of humor in his voice. “What can I do to help?”

  He sat upright and leaned back against the couch. “You could sit right on up here and ride me,” he suggested.

  “I could. Or I could do this.” She slid off the sofa and knelt on the floor in front of him. His erection was long and thick and flexed toward her. She placed her hands on his shins and stroked up his legs and inside his thighs, pushing them open.

  “Jo.” He cupped her face in his palm. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “Don’t you want me to?” Didn’t all men want their women to go down on them?

  “Gods, yes. I’m not crazy. I never want you to feel as though you have to do anything.” Her heart fluttered, and warmth spread outward from her core.

  “You should know by now I never do anything I don’t want to.” Her voice was husky with desire. She wrapped her hand around the base of his shaft. Heat radiated from his skin, the thick blue vein running the length of him pulsing beneath her hand. She bent her head and drew her tongue over the broad head, lapping the moisture that seeped from the tip. It tasted salty and musky and male.

  Asher groaned and gripped the edge of the cushions, the muscles in his arms straining.

  Enjoying herself, Jo dragged her tongue around the head. Being in control was fun.

  “Fuck, Jo. Don’t tease. I’m too on edge.”

  “Hmm.” She took him into her mouth and made the humming sound again. His shaft flexed and pushed deeper.

  Warning bells went off in the back of her head, but she silenced them. It was too late to put the genie back in the lamp. For better or worse, she cared deeply about Asher. She refused to think about the “L” word. That was too big to consider with everything else going on.

  But they were in a relationship. Being with him was different, more than sexual. She loved to see him smile and laugh, enjoyed talking with him—he was clever and far better informed than anyone she’d ever met, his Real Housewives obsession aside. She also loved fighting alongside him, making love with him.

  Because that’s what it was.

  Keeping one hand around the base to allow her control over the depth of the thrusts, she sucked and licked his shaft, taking as much of him as she could before easing back. Then she did it again and again.

  “Like that. God, yes. Perfect,” he praised. Her nipples were hard, aching nubs. She wanted to climb onto his lap and put his cock inside her.

  But this time was about him. He gave of himself without restraint, asking for nothing she wasn’t freely willing to give in return.

  She cupped his balls in her free hand and gently rolled them.

  “You need to stop now. I’m going to come.” In total contradiction, he clutched her hair, holding her steady. She hollowed her cheeks, sucking hard as she took him deep.

  He roared her name as he came. She kept sucking and swallowed until he was done. Only then did she ease back and smile at him.

  “Jo.” He said her name, only that. His eyes were tinged red around the brown of his iris, but it didn’t frighten her. Not this time.

  He bolted from the couch like he’d been fired from a cannon, lifted her into his arms, and carried her to bed.

  “I’m not done with you,” he told her.

  “I certainly hope not.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The lull came crashing to an end the next morning. He was working at his desk. After an early morning workout and shower, Jo was now curled up in a chair reading a book. It was homey and normal, something he’d never had until she’d come into his life. The ping caught him by surprise.

  “What’s that?” She immediately set the book aside and jumped to her feet.

  “The alert I set up on the Brotherhood website. Someone is hacking into it.” Blocking out everything else, he went to work. He ignored the message coming through. Time enough to deal with that later. Whoever was behind this mess was on their computer now. All he had to do was find them.

  The challenge was on, and the stakes had never been higher.

  He sensed her coming over to stand beside him, felt her hand on his shoulder, but his concentration never wavered. His fingers flew over the keyboard.

  “Son of a bitch.”

  “What?” She leaned closer.

  “They’re good, trying to throw me off t
he scent.” Not happening. He lost all track of time, as he often did when he was deep into computer work. He chased the signal all over the world. Then he did it again.

  “You’re toying with me, you fucker,” he muttered. “Why?” Whoever had sent the message should be long gone instead of leading him on some wild goose chase. “Oh shit.”

  “Asher?” Jo was perched on the edge of the desk, a cup of coffee in her hand. When had she gotten that?

  “The message.” He’d ignored it in favor of the chase. Now he dove deep into the Brotherhood message board, needing to know what had been posted.

  His fingers stopped moving. His blood ran cold.

  “What is it?” She set her cup down and peered at the screen.

  “How long have I been at this?”

  “Six hours.”

  “I played right into the fucker’s hands.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “I’m sorry.” A roar built in his throat, almost choking him when he swallowed it back.

  Control. You need to stay in control.

  “I don’t understand.” When she started to scan the messages, he pressed a button, closing it out. “Now you’re just pissing me off.” She pointed at the blank screen. “Bring that back up.”

  He turned in his chair and took her hands in his. They were cold and clammy.

  “You’re scaring me.” Her lower lip trembled before she caught it with her teeth.

  “I’ll protect you.” It was a vow he would not break.

  “Asher.” She pulled her hands away and pressed them against his face. “You have to tell me. I need to know. I deserve to know.”

  The pit in his stomach grew and a weight pressed down on him. “Whoever is behind all this knew I wouldn’t be able to resist the challenge of finding them.”

  She frowned and leaned against the edge of the desk. “I don’t understand. Wasn’t that the point of the alert?”

  “Yes, but I didn’t stop. I disregarded the message and wasted valuable time in the chase.”

  “What was the message? And don’t you dare lie.”

  Outwardly, Jo appeared calm, but her pulse beat wildly in her neck and the acrid smell of her fear burned his nostrils.

  “I’ll protect you.”

  “You already said that. You’re starting to freak me out. Just tell me.”

  “Whoever is behind this posted a job on the website.”

  All the color drained from her face. “Oh fuck. For me.” The words were barely a whisper.

  “Yes.”

  “But I haven’t done anything wrong.” She straightened and backed away from him. “I thought you were the good guys.” It sounded more like an accusation than a plea for reassurance.

  “We are.” He stood slowly so he didn’t frighten her any more than she already was.

  “Take it down.” She pointed at his laptop, her voice rising with each word she spoke. “Get rid of it. Make it go away. You can do that, right?”

  “I can.” He took a step toward her, frustration beating at him. “I could have,” he corrected. “But I waited too long.” Now it was too late.

  Her frown deepened, and her shoulders slumped when realization hit her. “That’s why whoever is doing this kept you chasing them.”

  The last time he’d tasted fear this bitter, he’d been a young man and the world had been bathed in blood and madness. He also hadn’t been this pissed off since he’d been reborn, changed by a goddess into what he’d become.

  Darkness welled inside him. The beast that resided within him yanked at the mental restraints. Whoever was behind this was playing a dangerous game. One they would lose.

  “Your eyes are red,” she whispered.

  His incisors slowly grew, and his blood burned. “You are the one person on the planet who is safe from me.” He longed to touch her but feared she’d reject him.

  Some emotion flared in her spectacular eyes, but it was gone before he could read it. “What else aren’t you telling me? Finish it.”

  “The contract has already been accepted.”

  “That fast?”

  “Yes, and it shouldn’t have been, but whoever is behind this knew exactly what to say.” Unable to keep distant from her any longer, he dragged her into his arms, careful not to hold her too tight. If he caged her, she’d fight.

  She remained stiff in his embrace for an extended moment before finally leaning against him. Her face was pale, her breathing rapid. He pressed his lips to her forehead and ran his hands up and down her back, trying to infuse her with his strength.

  “What did they say? You have to tell me everything.”

  “I know.” He breathed in her unique scent, letting it settle him. Keeping anything secret would put her at an even greater risk.

  “A very, very long time ago, Bjorn Knutson’s family was murdered. He went mad with grief. Odin heard his screams of pain, his pleas for vengeance.”

  “Odin? The Viking god? I know we talked about it, but it’s hard to wrap my head around all this god stuff.”

  “Yes. He changed Bjorn forever. He became the first Norse werewolf, a berserker of such fury he was feared throughout all the lands. The first thing he did was hunt down those responsible for the death of his wife and children.” Those had been dark days. The land had run red with blood.

  “Oh my God. I need to sit down.”

  Asher scooped her into his arms and sat in the armchair she’d occupied earlier.

  “That’s tragic, but what does it have to do with the contract on me?”

  “Do you remember what I told you about the gods? They lose interest in us quickly.”

  “And that happened with Bjorn?” Her expression was pinched, but her eyes were steady.

  “Yes. Here was this man who could shift into a wolf to hunt and slay his enemies simply left roaming around the world. That couldn’t be allowed to continue unchecked.”

  …

  “You went to him.” Her voice sounded steady, but her heart raced, and her stomach twisted. This was very, very bad.

  Stay calm.

  Panicking wouldn’t help the situation. She had to deal with it in a calm and rational manner. Not easy when all she wanted to do was run screaming. Only there was nowhere to hide, and she was already in the safest place she knew.

  “Maccus and I both went. Bjorn was out of control, the world littered with the bodies of those he’d slain for vengeance.” He released a sigh. “Maybe we should have put him down. These days, we probably would. But life was more brutal in those days. What was deemed acceptable was held to a different standard. We were all more feral, less bothered by the blood we spilled.”

  She swallowed heavily, trying not to imagine the carnage the werewolf had left in his wake. Problem was, she’d seen too many episodes of Vikings on television. It was a very brutal time. People would have expected Bjorn to enact such violent retribution.

  “It took several decades before he gained mastery over himself and his abilities. By then, some of those he’d bitten, but who hadn’t died, had also changed. But only Bjorn is immortal. The others live and die in a fairly normal lifespan. They can live up to one hundred and fifty. Or that’s the oldest I’m aware of. Many die long before that because of the innate violence among their kind. They fight one another for power and position in the packs they form. Often to the death.”

  She tried to swallow but her mouth was too dry. “Let me get this straight. Bjorn is the father of werewolves, and he’s taken the contract on me?”

  “Yes.” The weight of that one word pressed down on her, threatening to suffocate her. The concern etched on Asher’s face proved just how dangerous this man, or werewolf, was.

  “But why? I haven’t done anything to any werewolf. I’m a vampire slayer.”

  “The anonymous sender gave him proof that you’re a descendant of one of the pe
ople who murdered his family. His one vow, the one promise Odin gave him, was that he could wipe their line from existence.”

  Her breath wedged in her throat, making her gasp. “Is that true?” Not exactly a family tree to make a person proud.

  “No. I researched it years ago. Everyone involved, their families and kin died out centuries ago.”

  “So much bloodshed. How many innocents died? People who weren’t involved in the attack?” Her chest ached. She pressed her hand against it, but the pain continued to grow and expand. “Even if I was a descendant of those horrible men, I had nothing to do with it.”

  Asher sighed and pressed his forehead against hers. “I know. I know it’s difficult for you to understand. Bjorn would have been expected to get vengeance for his family. Anything less would have been unacceptable.”

  He lifted his head, his face a study in compassion. “And you do understand. Haven’t you gone after all vampires for what was done to your parents?”

  “That’s different.” It had to be different or she wouldn’t be able to live with herself. When Asher simply continued to stare at her, she flinched. “I’ve only taken out those who deserve it.”

  He brushed his fingers gently over her cheek. “And who decided they deserved it? You did. Bjorn did the same. After we found him, and he became a part of the Brotherhood, he changed and became a tool for justice, for the greater good. But the need to slay his family’s killers is nonnegotiable. What would you do if you found out that the one who took your parents hadn’t acted alone?”

  “I’d kill them. Or I’d at least try.” There was no hesitation. She was sick to her soul. “I am a killer.” No better than those she hunted.

  “No.” He took her face between his hands, his touch gentle as he stroked his thumbs over her cheeks. “You seek justice.”

  “So Bjorn thinks he’s in the right to come after me?” She tried to smile but failed miserably. “Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, the king of the werewolves is after me.”

  “Normally a job wouldn’t be taken this quickly.”