Slow Burn

by Sascha Illyvich

  She straightened. He had some nerve. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Derrick took a sip of his beer and blew out a cloud of smoke. “I’m saying you…” He blinked. “Have a history of this sort of thing happening and we’d like to keep the casualties to a minimum. My being there with you will help.”

  She rolled her eyes. It wasn’t like he was wrong, but it still pissed her off. “If you can keep your own emotions in check, then yes.” She took a long pull off her beer and let the liquid burn down her throat. She needed to wrap her mind around the nonsense Max spouted. He was right; Derrick neutralized her power with his presence.

  Derrick’s face twisted, then his lips pursed together in a thin line. He blinked, then gave her hand a squeeze. “You’re right.” He turned to Max. “So, how do we do this and when?”

  She arched a brow. “You’re in just like that?”

  “Yeah.” He nodded. “I will just have to keep my emotions in check.” He glared at Sonja. “So I can balance your reaction.”

  “Good. Then it’s settled. We’ll have to get Sonja some clothes, but I’m sure we can find something. I have a friend with some options for you.”

  Sonja snorted. “What I’ve got on is fine.”

  “What you’ve got on won’t get you past the door guard at the club. Derrick has clothes; we tend to run in the same circles. But you look metal, even now. Black jeans and the shirt you stole from my closet won’t really get you into Miami’s hottest clubs. We’ll have to do a makeover.”

  She was so not a girlie girl. Those women tended to get themselves killed or worse. She sighed and let out a long groan. “Why?”

  “Because those with money aren’t typically found in the metal and Goth clubs. They’re found in the hottest, trendiest spots in town. You can’t drink beer here either. Champagne.”

  Again she snorted. “I’m a drinker. I can do with whatever has alcohol in it.”

  “You can’t get trashed here either. We’ll need you to do eloquent, not elusive and moody.”

  Her jaw dropped. Before she could respond, Derrick’s grip on her hand tightened. She felt the annoyance from him in a steady, low stream rather than a torrential downpour. “Fine.” She sighed. “I can do eloquence.”

  Derrick snickered.

  She glared at him. “What?”

  “Nothing. Nothing at all. But I have wondered what the most powerful female in metal would look like in a revealing dress. Guess we should go shopping.”

  She sighed and put a hand to her forehead. She hated having to do this, but necessity called for desperate measures to lead the bad guys out into the open. She had to get them off her back and keep Derrick’s presence and involvement minimized.

  She could do that. And with him near, she could effectively use the magic of her voice to persuade the bad guys to come out into the open. Then she could do some interrogating of her own.

  Derrick gave her hand another squeeze. “Let’s go. We have work to do if we’re going to do this tonight.”

  Max got the check and the three of them left.

  * * *

  She hated shopping, but having access to Derrick during the day made it a little more bearable. He’d been mostly his usual self, sensually taunting her when she slid into the dressing room, making sure to help her get in and out of the dresses she’d tried on, all while his hands roamed over her body.

  Just to make sure everything fit the way it was supposed to.

  Right.

  She wasn’t a fool, nor was she dumb enough to push his advances away though she knew she should. It would be imperative once things were done here and the last thing she wanted was to break his heart.

  Or have hers broken.

  He made the day light, despite what they were doing. She hated the bullshit club scene with a passion and made sure to remind him.

  He pointed out quickly that this was not his idea and they were only staying around long enough to make a show, then they were leaving.

  Newlyweds, a perfect cover for them, Max assured her.

  She had no idea how to be in love. What she felt for Derrick was…

  What was it?

  Aside from a certain protectiveness over him, she wasn’t sure. He’d confessed his love for her earlier, though he hadn’t said the words so much as answered her question.

  What to do about that?

  She hadn’t the slightest clue how she felt about him, but the day was much more palpable while they shopped. He bought her a light snack and they had a decent dinner.

  “You’ll need your strength for tonight.” He winked.

  She ran a hand down his shoulder, trailing her fingers over his bare forearms and feeling the definite spark when they touched.

  Was that love?

  She swallowed hard.

  “What? You seem nervous.”

  “I’ve never really been on the offensive before. Usually I react, this sort of thing goes away when I either give in for minor crap, or I put my foot down and threaten to kill them there.”

  A brow shot up. “I can’t see you carrying out such a threat.”

  She leaned in. “Me either. But once a threat sees me doing scary things with just my voice, they tend to turn tail and run.”

  “I wish this group would.”

  “Me, too.” She nodded. “How do you deal with it?”

  “That’d be a question to ask Max. He’s the current spook, not me.”

  She nodded again, enjoying the feel of his hand in hers, fingers interlocked. “But you left.”

  “That’s right.” Derrick looked from left to right, his other arm carrying a dress they’d picked out. This was a black number designed to show off her luscious curves and match her hair, which would sadly be put up in a bun tonight.

  She noticed he didn’t elaborate, but her natural curiosity and need for information required her to push the issue. “What—” She caught the look in his eyes.

  “Something went wrong. You’re going to find out what eventually, but right now I can’t talk about it. Our parents died, which was part of the reason Max and I joined the group he works for. Traveling around the world and having to focus on a mission made it easier to forget the life we could have had, had our parents not been involved in politics.”

  “What did they do?”

  “Mom was advocating for shifter rights. Dad was a congressman. Both were in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Derrick’s energy hummed sadness around her.

  She snuggled closer while they walked.

  “Spending time only on the mission as a focus kept Max and me out of trouble.”

  “I see.” She didn’t. Not really. He hadn’t given her any inroads into his past or mental history, and every time she knocked at his mind, the doors seemed to shut tighter. What made him afraid at night? “Do you fear anything?”

  “Just the screams that haunt me.”

  “Yet you love death metal.”

  “Odd ball, aren’t I?”

  She laughed, feeling the energy coming from him lighten a tad. “Screwy, aint you?”

  “Something like that. The rhythm and heaviness of the music lets me know I’m not alone in my agony and that while in certain instances it seemingly goes on for a long time, it ends. The screaming stops. Sometimes, it’s melodic. When the harmonies kick in, I’m happy, especially during a very powerful bridge or chorus.”

  “Like when the lyrics have meaning.”

  “Exactly.”

  Something dawned on her. If they were going out, what was it he saw when they first met? She’d quickly shielded herself and put her mind in check before rushing to his aid, but that nightmare in his head, had it been his or one of hers projected? She knew the sex they’d shared upon waking at Max’s loft had been his answer to still her nerves when she woke and saw the faces of those men she’d killed. Had he seen them, too?

  “Listen, I need to know how bad the ghosts haunt you.”

  Derrick stopped, met her gaze, and his eyes na
rrowed. Then they widened, his lips formed a tight line. The air crackled around them with the feel of something heavy, then it went away as though it never existed. “They won’t be a problem.”

  Weakly, she nodded. His quiet manner about his former life would have put her off normally, but she knew when to let sleeping dogs lie. He’d tell her soon enough if it became relevant.

  She’d had bodyguards before and they all maintained the same stoic, expressionless faces Derrick wore when he needed to have information filtered to her, but his eyes betrayed him.

  Well, the sparkle in them, the magic of his beast, rather, betrayed him.

  The puma was lonely.

  It wasn’t hard to imagine why he’d fallen in love, just hard to understand why it’d be with her.

  Still, she was the one who sought him out, not the other way around. It just so happened to work out this way.

  Why?

  “We should get going back to Max’s loft. It’ll take time to get you dressed and I can’t watch that.” He gave her a wry smile.

  She found herself laughing. “You’re bad.”

  “I try.”

  Yawning, she found it funny how careless she felt around him right now. Maybe her mind was telling her something in all of this. Maybe while she gave him a moment’s peace, she could steal one for herself, too, before they had to split.

  Chapter Six

  Derrick wasn’t blind. Her entire manner around him looked much less tense, and he even found her yawn sexy. Maybe it was time for a little more relaxing before the big event tonight. Perhaps she could ease the growing ache around his cock.

  Watching her try on dresses had to be one of the most erotic times he’d ever had while shopping. He enjoyed the simple pleasures in life, hence his passion for cigars and fine alcohol, or listening to music regardless of genre. But shopping normally drove him mad. Except when he got a wild hair and slipped into the dressing room with her after she’d picked out a second number and tried it on.

  He had to give his opinion, naturally fueled by the sight of her semi-naked. He had to remind himself every time she grimaced that this was for her safety. He’d been asked to protect her, then the mission became a bigger deal. And that wasn’t the half of it; they still hadn’t settled the whole in-love issue yet. Her choice of dress indicated she was a far more complex woman than she ever let on, and he really dug that. Every aspect of her personality, right down to her stubborn streak seemed to gel with him.

  He pushed the door open to Max’s loft, set the bags down beside the door, and looked around, scenting the air for intruders.

  Nothing.

  Good sign.

  “We could eat again if you’re hungry. Or just lay down for a nap. All that shopping wore me out.”

  She yawned again, rolling her head back, giving him a view of the line of her neck. “I could use a nap.

  “Or there are other ideas.”

  “Later, big boy.” She patted his chest and sauntered past him, heading for Max’s bed. Her hips swayed with promise of more later if things went okay.

  If not, well he didn’t plan to think that way. Only once had he mistrusted his judgment—the one time that counted.

  She’d asked earlier about his past and why he was no longer a spy.

  How do you tell the woman you’re protecting that you failed? Sure, he’d said it when things went awry at the cigar lounge. But that wasn’t really something he could predict. He’d only been given the two threats that came a few days apart, threats even Max’s pals hadn’t seen. Warnings for her to stop playing or face consequences.

  He took those seriously but figured the threat was like most things. Minor. Truly threatening people, shifter or otherwise didn’t spend a lot of time playing games with warning notes that left no fingerprints. The ones he’d dealt with hit hard and fast.

  But to tell her his real failure? Scarier than when he’d admitted to telling her his feelings for her.

  Even Max knew he didn’t like to talk about it.

  So he shrugged it off and left it alone, preferring to join her on the bed.

  She’d made herself comfortable, stretching out long legs while resting her hands over her stomach.

  Derrick slid beside her, rolled onto his side. “Hey.” He looked at her.

  “Hey.” She rolled her head to face him.

  Trepidation poured off her in waves. Derrick stilled his mind, pushed back all his fears from that earlier mistake, and calmed himself down. Then he leaned over her, cupped her chin, and ran his thumb over her lips.

  Sonja smiled and he took that as a positive sign. He pressed his mouth to hers and tasted her, slowly savoring every bit of contact between them. The sweetness from the Latin food earlier mingled with her natural spicy aromas and lust. He inhaled her scent, flicked his tongue over her lips, and nibbled.

  She kissed him right back with as much of a slow burn as he gave her, stoking the fire between them until both were panting.

  He withdrew reluctantly and set a hand in hers. “It’s okay. I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

  She didn’t seem to know what to say or do, so she shook her head.

  “You can’t shake off the fear, but I can fuck it out of you.”

  She laughed, slapped his hand. “Is that all you ever think about?” She rolled her eyes. “Oh wait, you’re male. Of course.”

  “Ever seen a cat in heat?”

  She smirked, the curve of her mouth hardening him instantly. “Yeah, I usually want to throw things at them.”

  “You’re relaxed.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “Gotcha.” He poked her thigh.

  Finally, she smiled, and it lifted his whole mood. She clutched his hand tighter. “You do center me.”

  He eased back and sighed. “I wondered about that. It’s no coincidence when we touch, is it?”

  “I don’t really know. Max makes me nervous, the others I’ve met, friends of yours? I didn’t get a steady read on any of them, but with you I at least feel as safe as I can be given the circumstances.”

  “Erick is the truly powerful one. He’s been known to do things…” Derrick closed his eyes, searching for the right words, then opened them. “…beyond what we’re known to be capable of. But he’s a friend. Max makes a lot of people nervous. He’s got his own ghosts to deal with, ones I feel bad about.” His voice dropped and he closed his eyes, his shoulders tensing visibly.

  “Baby?”

  “Hmm?”

  “If you let me, I can help.”

  He was supposed to be protecting her, not the other way around. But what could it hurt to break the movie image she may have had of the world of espionage? “Being a spy isn’t the wonderful thing people think it is. Yes, it’s a lot of cool high tech gadgets and guns, but the problem is, there are others with that same sort of technology and the same caliber of high powered rifles trying to kill you for political gain. Even being a shifter doesn’t help. Sure I can heal faster than you, but a bullet to the head is death regardless of your make and model.”

  “I’d never belittle that job.” By now she’d begun stroking his thigh. He wasn’t blind to the calming energy coursing through him now, coming in gentle waves. “Go on, please.” Her voice dropped again, almost to bedroom-seduction level.

  “Any of the demons Max acquired after I left…I should have been there to protect him.”

  “You can’t be everywhere at once.” Her voice took on a lilting quality that made him look at her twice.

  “Sonja, what are you—”

  Her eyes widened, irises centered on his. “It’s my gift, please. Let me?”

  The rational part of his mind struggled with the ghost attacking it right now. Max was the older brother, his life was just that. But once Derrick left the game, he’d deserted everyone from the old life until recently. Just then, did he feel almost normal?

  There had been no debriefing, no gentle return to civilian life. He simply turned in his resignation papers and wal
ked out of the office.

  No one stopped him. Of course, relations with the shifter part of that agency were tense and still in development. As of now, they still were. Distrustful humans.

  “Protocol dictated that they arrest me, but apparently the look on my face said otherwise.”

  She arched an eyebrow.

  “I half-shifted and walked out on the job. The last mission…” No, he couldn’t go there.

  Those gentle waves lapped at the gates surrounding his past. Why he’d left, what happened, how many died that shouldn’t have, and who got rich off the mission despite all the reasons for not going into that country.

  Derrick closed his eyes. This woman was trying to help him. Couldn’t the rational part of his mind see that? What then if he became free of the nightmares that taunted him? Or emancipated from his personal hell?

  “Why did you leave, baby?”

  Her words wrapped themselves around his mind, blanketing the mental wall he’d put up. They caressed his heart, stroking it like the softest of silks, and still, Derrick couldn’t let go. Too much adrenaline pumped through him, fear based on what would happen once he started talking.

  “These ghosts are better left to rest.”

  “Then let me put them to bed, Derrick. Please.”

  He shook his head, struggled against the magic surrounding him, and found his resolve weakening. He’d been trained to withstand a lot of torture and pain in order to not sell out his country, his cause, his people, but nothing had ever hit him like this.

  Nothing ever made him face the true demon holding him back.

  Inside, the puma paced anxiously back and forth across the black plane harboring it. It struggled to roar but found itself voiceless.

  “You’re not responsible for Max, baby. He’s a grown man.”

  “But I didn’t stay to protect him.”

  “You don’t have to. He’s very capable of protecting himself. I promise.”

  “How do you…” Fingers stroking his thigh brought him out of the mental fog. Then he saw Sonja, watched her lean into him. She pressed her mouth to his, kissed him once, twice, smiled into the third. And when they parted, he felt something in his heart.