“Increase the patrols. See if we can capture one to question. We need to know who’s behind it to effectively fight them.”
Luke stood to refill his glass. When he turned back to face Marcus, all the ease was gone from his expression. Slowly, he lifted the glass to his lips, took a long drink.
“I don’t think that’s going to be enough. Just increasing the patrols. I think there’s a lot more going on here than we know. They’re going into areas that have always been safe before.” He took another drink. “I killed a couple only two miles from here tonight.”
He held his brother’s gaze a long moment, knew exactly where he was leading the conversation. They’d discussed the possibility after Winter was poisoned. Taking real advantage of the existence of the Alliance. Marcus wasn’t sure if it would work. He counted the mere existence of the association as a minor miracle. Getting them to all work together would fall into the major category.
The hybrids weren’t the issue so much, though his people were definitely suspicious of the humans who’d willingly combined their souls with the souls of demons. No, the real problem would be getting nightwalkers and lupines to work together. The divisions that had split the Alukah into two races were ancient and clouded in myth, but the distrust was still there.
No one had expected the three groups to work together and go on to a mythical happy-ever-after, though surprisingly the hybrids and lupines seemed to hit it off. He’d even heard there were some mixed matings between the two groups.
His people remained standoffish, stuck in an irrelevant past in an ever-changing world, but if the speculation was correct and someone was pulling the strings behind the scenes in the demon world that would have to change.
Marcus could make it work. He was the final and absolute authority in the nightwalker world. The council was nothing more than an advisory board. No one would dare disobey his orders, but the situation might be better handled with a little finesse and solve two of his problems at one time. If the Alliance could be convinced to set up a special force made up of members from all three races, he could maneuver Winter where he wanted her. He smiled and Luke, catching it, arched a questioning eyebrow.
“Call an emergency Alliance meeting for this evening.”
“Sure,” Luke answered.
Marcus left it in his brother’s hands and jogged up the stairs back to his room, determined to get a few hours’ sleep. Tonight he’d force Winter to deal with him and get on with forging the bond that should already be firmly in place.
Chapter Eight
Sighing, Luke rose slowly from the couch feeling every one of his three hundred years. Physically he was the same, young and strong, but mentally he was bored. Tired of the same old existence. The only time that was different these days was when he was fighting or in bed with his newest conquest. Gia. Unfortunately, he was beginning to realize she’d made the conquest, not him.
He frowned, went to the sidebar and, wrapping two fingers around the neck of a whiskey bottle, carried it and his glass upstairs. He set both down on his nightstand and pulled his clothes off, dropping them to the floor as he went into the shower. Turning the knobs to scorching hot, he stepped in and threw his head back as the water sluiced over him.
He put off reaching for the soap. Her scent was still on his skin, her taste still on his tongue. Her essence, the psychic energy all living creatures expended and nightwalkers needed for survival, was still a heady seductive fog in his mind. It wasn’t necessary to have sex to feed. He just preferred it and couldn’t have resisted if he tried. She was becoming an essential part of his survival. And it was mutual. They’d discovered over the past weeks that when he fed from her, he relieved the stress her demon half put her under. It worked as well for her as taking a bonded mate.
He ducked his head under the water and breathed her name, conjured her image. Tall, sleek curves, impossibly long hair he could easily wrap around his hands. Blue eyes that occasionally went red especially when he played her body like the fine instrument it was as she tried to hold back.
Gia. He reached for her but didn’t get a response, knew better than to expect one. Where was she? She’d never allowed him access to her mind and while denying what she meant to him, what she was to him, he hadn’t insisted. Hadn’t believed he was in a position to insist. Tonight he’d discovered differently.
They’d been lounging back in bed, warm and satisfied and just getting started, when her phone rang. It had been daylight by then and he couldn’t follow, couldn’t order her not to go when she’d curtly answered his question about her destination that there might be trouble at one of their compounds. Without a further word she was gone. He’d been filled with such protective fury it stunned him, left him leaning over, gripping his knees and sucking in big gulps of air until his stomach stopped roiling and his hands quit shaking.
She didn’t answer when he called her and her blocks were too good for him to breach. He had every intention of rectifying that situation at the earliest possibility. Frowning, he stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. Except, she was his mate. After having sex with him and letting him feed from her, she shouldn’t be able to block him out.
How was that possible? There’d never been a nightwalker hybrid mating so he had nothing to compare it to. He was pretty sure Marcus wasn’t in the same boat; he had access to his woman’s mind. Luke snorted and prowled the room some more. Marcus was an idiot. He knew weeks ago the woman was his yet waited to claim her.
Not that Luke had ever been in a big hurry to claim a woman of his own. He hadn’t been joking about being the love-’em-and-leave-’em type. Had believed up until a few hours ago Gia would just be another name added to a long list of names.
Why wasn’t she feeling the bond? The urge to join with him as he felt with her? Was an ability to turn it off part of the hybrid make-up? He snarled. Like hell. He wanted her, craved her. He was keeping her. The very idea of her being able to resist left him in a cold fury. He vibrated with the knowledge he couldn’t seek her out yet. Couldn’t shake some sense into her. Stake his claim.
He glared at the clock. Not even noon yet. It would be hours before the sun went down. He could teleport back to their hidden meeting place. It was completely enclosed. Safe. But he knew she wouldn’t be there, wouldn’t go there unless she was expecting to meet him. They’d made no such arrangements before she’d left him earlier.
The door opened, a whisper of air the only warning and he whirled around ready, wanting to face a serious threat, though he knew better than to expect one inside his home. Marcus leaned against the frame, arms crossed over his chest, and frowned.
“Jesus. Could you dial it down a notch?” Marcus asked.
“What?” More a growl than a question.
Marcus nodded at the far wall and Luke turned to see the undulation, the way his uncontrolled telekinetic power buffeted the walls, pushing them in and out like they had breath of their own. With a deep inhalation he pulled his power back, let it gently seep away instead of battering away with it like he’d been close to doing.
“Bit of a strong reaction to an unusual demon incursion, isn’t it?” Marcus asked casually, but his eyes were anything but. He knew something was up, but Luke wasn’t ready to share yet. He latched on to it as an excuse.
“I’ve lost too many soldiers in the last few months. I don’t like unanswered questions.” He shrugged. He was in charge of their army; all deployment and training was under his command. It was as good an excuse as any.
“If everyone agrees to work together, those answers should be more forthcoming.”
Yeah right. Altruism all the way. “And getting closer to Winter has nothing to do with that plan, eh?”
Marcus smiled, shrugged. “Can’t hurt. Get some sleep. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night.”
He pulled the door shut behind him, leaving Luke thinking Marcus might be on to something. If they could cobble together a task force to investigate t
he unusual new activity in the area, he might be able to get closer to Gia. And he wanted to be close. Way under the skin close.
Chapter Nine
“No. Absolutely not.” Shock racing through her like a shot of pure adrenalin, Winter braced her hands on the edge of her desk and leaned closer to the phone’s speaker, wanting to be clear—irrevocably, no-mistakes-possible clear. No fucking way. With her history of ignoring authority how could they possibly promote her? Whose crazy idea was that?
“Sorry, Winter. That’s our decision.”
“Look, Gray.” Gray was the Order’s Grand Master. Their ultimate authority. That didn’t mean she couldn’t protest. She paused, glancing up to meet Gia’s then Dupree’s gaze. She hated to bring up mating but knew it was irresponsible not to. “I merged in fifty-five. I’m not bonded. I’m not sure how long I’ll continue to be…stable.”
Something dark and guilty flickered across Gia’s face before she could hide it, and Winter frowned. It went on her mental deal with later list while she waited for the council to respond. There was a brief pause, a murmuring of voices in the background as the council consulted each other. “Then take care of it, Commander. ASAP.”
The line clicked and then there was nothing but dial tone. Shit. Shit shit shit. This was not what she wanted to hear. Making her commander? She did not want that kind of responsibility. And just take care of the bonding issue? God, the Order Council was as bad as Mitchell.
Yeah people did it. It would take more than two hands to count all the hybrids she knew who’d waited till it was almost too late then bonded with the first person they could get approved. Almost all of them lived to regret it. She wouldn’t make the same mistake.
She spun around and walked to the sliding glass doors, stared out at the night, and instead of recalling the merging ceremony that had taken up so many of her early evenings over the recent years, called up the face of a man. It was as if she opened a gate and he moved into her mind, his presence somehow comforting. Reassuring.
Do you need me?
Sighing, she pressed her forehead to the glass, wishing the cool pane would flush the sudden heat from her body. She’d kept him away for ten hours but only through sheer force of will and by shutting herself off from everyone else. Even then, she’d been aware he could have got through her shields if he’d really wanted to.
Winter?
I’m fine. Go away.
The impression of a snort. Not likely.
God, that cool retort pissed her off. He messed with her mind, messed with her body without ever laying a finger on her and all the while maintaining that distant, haughty reserve. She’d had enough. The rage, the frustration, the denied and building lust was too much to take. She snapped.
Fuck you. I’m too busy for this crap right now.
There was a long silence and, thinking he’d left her in peace for a while, she turned back to her desk to deal with the reality of her new command.
We’ll get to that. Soon enough.
So he wasn’t done. Just freaking great. She could have handled the words, even with the low sexy timbre that promised untold delights, but the stroke she felt up her inner thighs, the little nips that followed made her catch her breath and sit suddenly in her chair. She threw up that block again, the one he shouldn’t be able to get around and took a breath of relief only to have it followed by his soft laughter.
He’d found a way through. She’d half expected that. There might even have been a secret wanton side of her that was pleased by it.
“Leave,” she mumbled, relieved when her old friends thought she was talking to them and complied, exiting with frowns of concern that spoke better than any silence.
She swiveled the seat around and watched the sun set. The sky bled pink and red as invisible fingers stroked her, petted. The sky went black as her breath grew rapid. Her grip tightened so hard on the fake leather-covered arms of the chair that they cracked. She squeezed her eyes shut, a fine trembling taking over her body as she crested the edge, right on the verge of orgasm. Then he withdrew. He left her wanting, left her hurting. Again. She followed the path in her mind back to him.
Damn you.
In his pause there was a feeling of anticipation. And something more. Something that almost felt like…triumph.
You’ve never sought me out before.
It surprised her to realize she hadn’t, especially on the nights he got her all wound up and left her wanting. Of course, he’d never touched her with phantom fingers before. Always there had been whispered promises, teases, except in the dreams but even in them he never let her find release. And she never initiated contact with him. It was a sign that her control was slipping even more and she tried to shore up her inner defenses.
Don’t, he growled. Don’t attempt to block me again.
She huffed her exasperation. She wasn’t allowed to block him out but he was allowed to key her up and deny her satisfaction? Where was the fairness of that? The amazing thing was she’d been complying with his demands. Well, enough of that. She was already good and pissed at the council. He just added to her fury and she was finished acceding to the wishes of autocratic men.
Rising from the desk, she gathered her weapons and strapped them on, purpose and determination moving through her. She glared at the cell phone and almost left it behind. Sighed. It was damned tempting but would be a mistake. The door cracked open and Gia stuck her head through the small opening. Winter met her gaze and barely managed to keep the snarl from her voice.
“What?”
“The nightwalkers have called a meeting of the Alliance.”
Which, if Mitchell’s information was correct, meant Marcus. Did he realize she was about ready to disobey his order of celibacy? Oh, he hadn’t come right out and said it, but he refused to give her what she needed and interfered when her thoughts turned to finding someone willing. Did he realize now that he’d pushed her to a point of desperation? Damn him.
“When?”
“Ten.”
She glanced at the clock on the wall. Almost nine now. Not much time to prepare. Pacing, she waved Gia in. She had a stack of boxes with her, which she leaned against one book-lined wall. Winter experienced a moment of nostalgia. This had been her office for more than twenty years. Three walls contained packed floor-to-ceiling bookcases, the fourth was a bank of windows and doors. Her desk sat in front of them facing the long conference table Gia used when she wasn’t at the Order’s downtown office. With her promotion to commander, they’d be moving from the compound. Gia, organizational genius as usual, was already on the ball.
Winter didn’t even want to contemplate the nightmare of packing to come. The tedious monotony of it made her antsy. She rolled her eyes. Like she wasn’t already? She was tempted to go straight to Mitchell, for a round of fighting or sex she couldn’t say. A part of her mind cringed at the idea of the second. If she had any sense she’d get some sleep. She’d never been good at doing the sensible thing though and now she had too many people relying on her to even think of slowing down.
“Has the news gone out yet?”
“Yes, Commander.” Gia couldn’t quite keep the amusement out of her voice and Winter glared at her.
“Not helping.”
“You’re gonna have to get used to it.” Gia shrugged. “I know you don’t believe it right now, but you’re a good choice. The best choice in this region.”
Her responding laugh was short, disbelieving. The new burden left a sour taste in her mouth, an emotional load that felt like a great weight pressing against her back and shoulders. “How do you figure that?”
“You’re respected. Relentless. Compassionate when necessary and brutal the rest of the time. Hell, you regularly spar with a lupine and walk away from it, and it’s not because he’s letting you win.”
She shrugged that last off. It was more an indication of the demon’s strength than hers. Gia was right about one thing though. Winter was relentless. She wouldn’t stop until every demo
n responsible for the carnage at the old commander’s compound, her old friend’s place, was found and exterminated.
She wasn’t the only one suffocating with his loss, though. Emotions had a specific feel, almost a taste, to a telepath. Sorrow was heavy and bitter in the air, in her mind, and it wasn’t all hers. She brutally squashed the feeling, covered it with indifference. It was a rare talent, being able to influence the emotions of others and Gia narrowed her eyes.
“You shouldn’t mess with people like that. Even in the Order, my feelings are my own.”
Winter agreed, but she shook her head in denial. There was no time for that now, no time for memories or regrets or self-recriminations. There was too much to do and they were running out of time. She took a deep breath, decision made.
“Later. When it’s safe.”
Gia’s expression was not quite mutinous and Winter didn’t need to use her talents to know that her friend was a little pissed at her. What Gia didn’t want to acknowledge was sorrow weighed a person down. Sorrow wasn’t just emotional pain, but physical. Too much was debilitating. Too much could get you killed. Winter took a deep breath, tried to cleanse everything from her mind and heart but determination and vengeance. She was careful to keep it from bleeding into the room, from influencing Gia’s decisions.
She closed her eyes and let the memories wash over her. Just for a moment. Just as a reminder why vengeance was so important. Ben hadn’t just brought her into the Order. He’d brought in Gia and Dupree too. He’d trained them. Watched over them until they could fend for themselves.
Winter understood where Gia’s sorrow came from, but she couldn’t indulge it yet. And that, she knew, was exactly why the council had named her his successor. She had a reputation for being cold, for being able to turn off those dangerous emotions. Unlike the council, she wasn’t so sure that was a vote in her favor. After several moments Gia’s expression smoothed. Her eyes were still sad and disturbed, but she was back in control.
Kiss of Darkness Page 5
