CHAPTER 13
They spent the majority of the day reviewing every piece of information Devony and her father had col ected. She loved seeing the way Rafe’s
sharp mind worked, his indefatigable thirst for knowledge. He was focused and methodical, and she marveled at his keen ability to spot patterns and connections among even the most obscure bit of data.
He was a gorgeous male, to be sure, but his sexy brain was wreaking havoc on her senses too.
If she thought poring over her work together would help take her mind off al of the other things she wanted to be doing with him, she couldn’t have been more wrong.
Every time he reached past her to pick up a photo or arranged a set of documents on their shared worktable, she struggled to resist the urge to lick the tangle of glyphs that tracked down his muscled forearm.
When he asked questions or shared his theories about Opus and the individuals who might have ties to them, she hung on every word, captivated
by the sensual cut of his lips and her very vivid memories of al the wicked things his mouth had done to her body.
It was nearly impossible to ignore the steady drum of his pulse when he was seated so close to her. Her Breed senses locked on to that strong
beat and the liquid rush of his blood pounding through his veins. Her fangs prickled in her gums, and she couldn’t decide what she wanted more, to have Rafe inside her again, or to sink her sharp canines into the side of his neck.
That latter craving was the last thing she should be thinking about.
Blood bonds were sacred. They were eternal, and not to be entered into on impulse. She could feed al she wanted on human Hosts, but one sip
of Rafe’s blood would irrevocably seal her to him for as long as either of them lived.
Why that notion didn’t freeze her in her tracks, she didn’t want to know.
She had never been some starry-eyed girl mooning over the idea of happily-ever-after. God, was that what she was doing now with Rafe? She
couldn’t possibly be that foolish. Apparently, losing her virginity had also robbed her of some good sense.
“Where’d we put your father’s cargo traffic log for Conley Terminal?” Rafe asked, jarring her out of her troubled thoughts.
Frowning, he sifted through an open file of handwritten notes.
Since it appeared she was alone in her distraction around him, she real y needed to find something else to focus on. Especial y since he seemed to have no trouble keeping a professional line drawn between them today.
“This one?” She slid one of the dozens of entries toward him.
He glanced at it only briefly, then shook his head. “I’m looking for the logs from February.”
“Here you go.” Devony retrieved the document in question and handed it to him, watching as he intently studied it.
Her fascination with him unsettled her, especial y when it seemed markedly one-sided today. She was getting in over her head with him; she
realized that. It wasn’t just the incredible sex that had her stomach doing flips and her veins feeling as if they had absorbed a prolonged jolt of electricity.
It was simply being with Rafe that did that to her. Talking with him. Strategizing with him. Being close enough to feel the warmth and strength of his body, and to see the kindling embers in his aquamarine eyes when he looked at her.
She couldn’t believe she had let herself get entangled so quickly and deeply with a male she knew so precious little about. He was dangerous;
she’d seen that firsthand. He could be kind and caring; she had experienced that in the park when he healed her, and again last night when he
had treated her with such gentleness—right before he had shown her the true meaning of passion.
But Rafe was also a tormented and angry man, fixated on vengeance against Opus.
Not that she could blame him.
As for the Order turning him out, their loss had become her gain. She had set out on her quest alone after losing her family, never imagining she’d find an al y along the way. There was a part of her that wanted to think she may have found something even more than that in Rafe.
As she watched him, she realized there was so much she wanted to know about him, so much she wanted to understand. She didn’t even know
his last name.
Propping her elbow on the table, she watched him leaf through the records. “I just realized there’s something very important you haven’t told me yet.”
His head lifted sharply and he swung a bland, yet oddly guarded look at her. “What’s that?”
“Is Rafe your ful name, or is it short for something?”
He exhaled a wry laugh. “My given name’s Xander, actual y.” That peculiar expression on his face relaxed into a knee-melting, crooked grin.
“Xander Raphael Malebranche.”
“It’s beautiful.”
He chuckled. “I’l tel my parents you said so next time I see them.”
“How often is that?” she asked. “You haven’t spoken much about them.”
Other than his confession that he’d almost gotten his parents kil ed on account of his involvement with Opus Nostrum’s mole, Devony might have
assumed he had no family in his life either.
Looking at him, he seemed as alone as she was. Whether his solitude was self-imposed or a result of the shame he obviously carried for having
been duped by an Opus operative, she wasn’t sure.
Al she did know was that he was hurting underneath the tough face he showed the world.
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen them,” he said. “A couple of months, maybe longer.”
“So, not since you left the Order?”
He drew in a long breath, turning away from her to page absently through the files in front of him. “Yeah, I guess so. Around that time.”
“Your last name,” she said, realizing it was familiar to her. “Are you tel ing me you’re related to Dante Malebranche?”
“He’s my father.”
“Seriously?” Devony sat back in her chair, astonished. “I don’t think there’s anyone in or around JUSTIS who doesn’t know the names of Lucan
Thorne and his warrior commanders. Wasn’t your father one of the founding members of the original compound here in Boston?”
“Not quite,” Rafe said, pivoting to look at her again. “There are others who go further back with Lucan than my father. But yes, he’s been an Order warrior for a long time. He’s one of the district commanders now, heading up the operation center and patrol team in Seattle.”
“You sound very proud of him.”
He nodded. “I am. My father is an extraordinary man, not only because of his long role in the Order. He’s one of my best friends. And he casts a long shadow. My mother, Tess, as wel .”
Devony knew the feeling of pride he described. Her family didn’t have the high profiles that Rafe’s and some of the other Order’s founding
members had, but she had been immensely proud of her parents too. She had longed to prove herself to them somehow.
Instead, they coddled her under lock and key growing up, sheltered her. When she was old enough, they pushed her toward safe pursuits like
music and dance. As if they expected her to disappoint them somehow. As if she already had.
“What does your father think about you no longer being part of the Order, Rafe?”
He shrugged, deflecting. “I haven’t asked him.”
“And your mother?”
He folded his muscled arms over his chest and held her in a narrowed stare. “Why are you asking so many questions about this?”
His defensiveness took her aback. She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I was just curious. I’m just trying to understand.”
“Understand what?”
“You.”
“What for?”
“Because I want to know more about you. Because I care . . . about you.”
She looked aw
ay from him and shook her head again. “And because I don’t have parents to talk to anymore, to ask what they think about my
choices or anything else in this world. I’m just curious what it’s like to have parents who are a constant in your life.”
Rafe reached out to her, drawing her gaze back to him with his fingers resting gently beneath her chin. “What are you talking about? I know you’ve been grieving over your family these past few months, but it sounds like they’ve been gone for much longer than that.”
She hadn’t intended to carve into her own psychic wounds. Rafe’s coaxing, solemn stare drew the words out of her as easily as his caress on the side of her face. “I was alone even before my family was kil ed in the London bombing. My parents lived for JUSTIS. So did my brother. Their work sent them al over the world, which meant I was raised by strangers most of my childhood. Nannies, governesses, boarding schools here in the
States. I felt so lonely back then. I didn’t realize it could be possible to feel even emptier, like I do now that they’re real y gone. Now that I truly have no one left.”
“No,” Rafe said. “That’s not right. You’re mistaken about having no family left. You’re a daywalker, Devony. That means your mother was unique
too.”
“Yes. She was born Breed, a Gen One who could also walk in daylight. Her early years were hideous. Brutal. She told me a madman raised her
as part of a program for genetical y designed Breed females.”
Rafe nodded as if he knew. “She was one of Dragos’s experiments. Your mother, along with the half-sisters who were also part of that program
before the Order put a stop to it.”
“Half-sisters?” Devony murmured, her heart lurching to think that others had been subjected to the same awful torture her mother had endured.
“You didn’t know there were others?”
“No. I didn’t even consider there could be. Neither did my mother, I’m certain of that. She rarely spoke of that period in her life, and never that she knew of others like her.” Devony swal owed, a strange kind of hope coming to life in her breast. “How many do you think there might be?”
“I know of several personal y. And the Order is working toward finding the rest. Tavia Chase is leading that effort, along with Brynne Kirkland. Until the time of the attack in London, Brynne was actual y working in that city for JUSTIS.”
Devony gaped, but she couldn’t help it. “My mother had a half-sister in JUSTIS? In the London office? My God.” She sat back, feeling as if a train had just slammed into her. “She never knew. My mom was covert her entire career, rarely home. Al that time, she had a sister living in the same city, working in the same organization?”
Rafe nodded. “Which means you have two aunts—one of them right here in Boston. You also have a pair of daywalker cousins, Carys and Aric
Chase. They’re both working with the Order now.”
“My cousins.” She could hardly contain the bubble of excitement that swel ed in her. Or the sudden flood of uncertainty. “Do you think . . . do you think they would ever want to meet me?”
He chuckled. “I have no doubt about that whatsoever.”
“Wil you help? I know that’s asking a lot, especial y considering the way things are between you and the Order—”
“I’l make it happen for you, Devony. Whatever it takes, as soon as you’re ready to.”
His reply was so sincere, so resolute, she couldn’t resist wrapping her arms around him in a fierce embrace. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. I haven’t done anything.”
She drew back and drank in his handsome, solemn face. “Thank you for tel ing me about them. That’s more than enough right now. It’s everything.”
He tipped his head and pressed a kiss to her mouth. “You’re not alone, Devony.”
“Oh, God, I want to believe that so badly.” She stared into his penetrating eyes, watching their oceanic color begin to smolder with fire. His gaze felt like a promise, one she was afraid to trust, no matter how desperately she wanted it.
“You’re not alone anymore,” he uttered, his deep voice raw with tenderness . . . and desire.
“Make me believe it, Rafe.”
She kissed him back, letting her lips linger against his. On a growl, he dragged her off her seat and onto his lap, capturing her mouth in a deep, fevered kiss.
In the next second, he lifted her, his hands sliding beneath her backside as he pivoted and swung her up onto the worktable. They undressed each other with impatient hands, eager to be skin-on-skin. Some of the papers and stacks of files tumbled to the floor, instantly disregarded.
She hardly noticed or cared.
There was no room for thoughts of vengeance or loss or pain when Rafe had her in his arms.
There was only this moment. Only this man.
And the craving for him that seemed to be growing more demanding, more insatiable, each moment they were together.
CHAPTER 14
Rafe returned to his apartment in Southie as soon as night fel .
He needed a shower and a fresh change of clothes. Even more than that, he needed space to think and put his head back on straight, because
the hours he’d spent with Devony were beginning to scramble his ability to focus.
As he soaked under the showerhead in his studio’s bathroom tub, he realized it wasn’t only his physical interest in Devony that disturbed him—
although that was more than enough cause for alarm—it was his interest in her happiness that was the greater problem.
What the hel had gotten into him, promising he’d make introductions for her with Tavia Chase and the twins? Bad enough if he’d stopped there,
but he’d also dragged in former JUSTIS agent Brynne Kirkland, divulging her relationship with the Order.
Al for what? To see Devony smile? To give her some il usion of family after hearing her confess she felt unseen or abandoned by her own?
Her childhood scars weren’t his to mend. He didn’t need to assuage her sadness, especial y not with information that wasn’t his to reveal, and
promises he wasn’t certain how he could keep.
Not without dropping his cover.
He was treading too damn close to that line already. Sharing his thoughts about Cruz’s gang and Opus. Agreeing to partner with her, for fuck’s
sake.
He must be out of his mind.
That wasn’t even the worst of the trouble he was getting himself into where the gorgeous daywalker was concerned.
He’d just been inside her for hours already today and al he could think about was how long before he could have her again.
If he didn’t know better, he’d wonder if Devony Winters didn’t also have some amount of the seductive gift that Opus’s mole had used on him in
Montreal. But where he had been blinded by Iona Lynch’s mesmerizing, her psychic manipulation of his feelings and his attraction to her, the hold Devony had on him was something deeper.
It was far more powerful because it was real.
She was real.
Not perfect. Not capitulating and meek, but bold, even combative at times. Devony wasn’t the helpless waif he needed to coddle and protect, like the siren who had persuaded him into thinking that was what he wanted.
She was strong and capable, which made the rare glimpses of her vulnerability al the more authentic. Her emotional confessions were al the
more impactful because she trusted him enough to let him see there were hidden cracks in her armor.
It made him feel even more protective of her, and that was dangerous territory when his feelings toward her were soft enough.
A shame his feelings were the only thing soft about him when he was near her.
He had tried his damnedest most of the day to keep a healthy distance. Trapped inside her Darkhaven during the daylight hours had been torture
when it also meant no escape from his arousal. Sitting besid
e her, hunkered over notes and reconnaissance files, had proved an exercise in self-control, one he had barely passed.
While he worked diligently to study and analyze the intel that would aid him in his mission, his senses had been trained exclusively on her. The tempting heat of her body next to him. The intoxicating scent of her skin. The sexy, soft rasp of her voice. The curious, searching way her bourbon gaze seemed to peer straight into his soul.
She had wanted him too.
He’d felt the quickening of her pulse as they worked together in her war room. He’d heard the rapid throb of her heartbeat next to him at the table and it was al he could do to block out the enticing sound.
Each time he ventured a glance at her, his gaze was drawn to the pretty hol ow below her throat where that steady pound ticked so close to the
surface of her skin.
His fangs responded even now, the points digging into his tongue.
It hadn’t been long since he last fed, so he knew he couldn’t blame his thirst on simple lack of sustenance.
He couldn’t blame any of what he was feeling for her on basic biology. Not even the way his cock roused at the thought of her now, despite the fact that he’d barely given it a rest since he stepped into Devony’s house the night before.
On a frustrated groan, he cranked the spigot as far as it would go into the cold zone and let the icy water douse him.
It hadn’t real y helped. When he final y stepped out to towel off, al he’d done was add freezing and irritated to his foul mood.
He didn’t expect his check-in with the Order was going to be any improvement on that front, but he needed to bring them up to speed. He could
only imagine what his commanders were thinking now that they’d had a chance to talk to Nathan and hear about the near-disaster at the museum.
Throwing on a pair of jeans, Rafe headed out to the computer workstation and initiated the video link. He expected to find Gideon at the other end
Throwing on a pair of jeans, Rafe headed out to the computer workstation and initiated the video link. He expected to find Gideon at the other end of the cal .
Instead, it was Lucan.
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