by Vivian Wood
“We already knew she was in Algiers Point. We would have found the house in a matter of hours,” he gritted through clenched teeth.
“Oh,” Echo said, wincing. She’d managed to insult his ability to do his job and insinuate that she didn’t trust him, all in one smooth sentence.
She watched as Rhys paced to the window, twitching the blackout curtains aside to let in a much-needed swath of sunlight.
“Tell me the house number, Echo,” Rhys said, scrubbing a hand over the back of his neck.
It took everything in Echo’s power to keep from just giving him what he wanted, just so she could soothe the wound to his pride.
“I want to go with you,” Echo said.
Rhys stilled, and for a moment Echo thought the vein pounding in the side of his neck might actually burst.
“Are you trying to kill me, woman?” he growled. “First you avoid my bed. Then you doubt my ability to do my job. And now you think I need a babysitter while I’m fighting?”
Echo bit her lip and shook her head.
“I don’t… I didn’t mean that, Rhys.”
Rhys turned to her slowly, pinning her in place with a steely glare.
“You are not going with us. You’re going to stay here, where I know that you are safe.”
Echo dropped her gaze to the table, tracing a whorled wooden knot with her fingertip.
“Look at me!” Rhys thundered. Suddenly he was next to her, pulling Echo to her feet.
Echo stared up at him, surprised at the vehemence of his insistence.
“Tell me that you’re going to do as you’re told,” Rhys demanded.
“I—” Echo faltered.
“Mate, so help me, if you step foot outside this house, I will punish you,” Rhys told her. “Now tell me you will behave.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Echo nodded. Rhys studied her face for several long moments before releasing her. She thought he’d storm off, but instead he grabbed her wrist and led her out of Aeric’s rooms.
“Don’t come onto this floor again,” Rhys muttered as he guided her up to his rooms.
Echo held back the sigh that threatened to escape, merely nodding instead. Rhys took her into his bedroom and sat her on his bed, making her wait as he fetched first aid supplies.
Silence reigned as Rhys cleansed and bound her palms, tightening the strange tether between them with every touch. He was surprisingly tender, especially after seeing the dominant need driving him only a few minutes earlier.
Once Echo was thoroughly aided, Rhys sat on the bed next to her and put an arm around her waist, pulling her close. He tilted her chin up and sought her lips, giving her a deep, hungry kiss.
It seemed that her would-be mate was as affected by their unsatisfactory sleeping arrangements as Echo was, which made her giddy.
“Tell me the house number,” Rhys said as he broke the kiss.
Echo frowned, wondering if his kiss had merely been intended to entice her to divulge the information. One look into Rhys’s shimmering green eyes and the mating bond tugged at her heart, making her lips part without her consent.
“Two Twenty Seven Pacific Avenue,” spilled out before Echo could resist.
A touch of humor lit Rhys’s features as he dropped another kiss to Echo’s lips. He withdrew too soon, leaving her wanting.
“You should be in my bed when I get back,” Rhys said, his bluntness making Echo blush. “I think you'll enjoy it as much as I will.”
With that, he turned and headed downstairs, no doubt rounding up the other Guardians for their mission. Echo stuck her tongue out at his retreating back, then flopped back on the bed with an angry groan.
“Asshole,” she whispered, but her heart wasn’t in it.
Rhys was an alpha male, his dominance an essential part of his personality. He was bossy and demanding, and those things made him as attractive as he was aggravating. There was no use denying that the same things that made Echo want to pull out her hair also made her panties dampen.
Still, that didn’t mean that she had to lay down and just take it, right? What man wanted an unresisting, lifeless partner? Echo’s guy friends at Loyola University had a name for women who lacked a certain spark, whether in bed or in personality: starfishing, they’d called it.
Echo’s lips twisted as she repressed a giggle. She was many things, but a starfish was not among them. She sat up and looked around Rhys’s room, thinking. She puttered around for a while, trying to come up with a good idea. She thought of several things, then discarded each as being useless or too close to breaking her word to Rhys.
Finally, a light bulb went off in her brain, and she grinned.
What if… what if I could just watch, without being there? I wouldn’t even have to leave the Manor at all.
Echo jumped up and snuck back upstairs to Aeric’s rooms, deliberately ignoring Rhys’s command to stay out of them. She grabbed the scrying mirror and ran down to the ground floor, laying the mirror out on the big dining room table.
She didn’t need blood this time — her connection with Rhys was already so strong that she could practically feel him. She was pretty sure that would be enough to scry for him. Then she could just watch the scene play out, assuaging her anxieties without defying Rhys.
She lay her bandaged hands on the mirror, closing her eyes. A second later she yelped and pulled back, shaking her burning fingers.
“What the hell??” she cried, looking at her reddened fingertips. “They hexed the freaking mirror? Ugh!!”
Echo stared at the mirror for a few moments, then snatched it up off the table. The hex was likely linked to the wards on the Manor, as were most of Gabriel’s spells. Therefore, she needed to step outside the wards for a few moments in order to make her scrying spell work.
Grinning at her own cleverness, Echo practically skipped as she went out the front door. Broad marble steps spread out from the Manor’s front porch to the street, and Echo traipsed down them. The wards ended at the bottom step, so Echo perched herself on a bench a couple of feet away. Close enough to hide in case there was danger, far enough to use the mirror. Probably.
Echo laid the mirror out on her lap and spread her hands out over it, but a soft sound interrupted her work. She cocked her head, listening. It sounded like… someone crying?
Standing up, Echo set the mirror on the Manor’s warded steps before she turned and looked around. It took her a second to identify the source of the sound, but eventually she saw a small figure huddled on the ground, just on the other side of the wrought-iron fence lining the Manor’s yard.
“Hey,” Echo called. “Hey, are you all right?”
The figure turned, revealing a dark-haired little girl with a tear-stained face.
“Are you okay?” Echo tried again.
“I lost my mommy,” the little girl said, her face screwing up to produce a fresh round of sobbing tears.
“Okay, don’t worry,” Echo said, glancing over her shoulder. The front door to the Manor swung over, meaning that Duverjay was going to make an appearance at any moment. Likely he was about to physically return Echo to the Manor’s warded grounds, little girl be damned.
Pushing the gate open, Echo took a step toward the kid.
“Why don’t you come in?” Echo asked.
“I can’t,” the little girl said, giving a sad hiccup.
“Why not? I can call the police for you, and we can just sit on the steps here,” Echo said, glancing back at the house. Duverjay was indeed coming down the stairs, mouth opening, no doubt intending to shout at Echo for her impertinence.
She looked back at the little girl, and Echo’s mouth went dry.
There was no little girl, only a tall, grisly looking creature with slimy blue skin, wickedly curved claws, and more razor-like teeth than Echo could count.
“Shit!” Echo said, scurrying backward, but she was far too slow. “No no no!”
The creature seemed to grin as it caught her arms and yanked her back, hissing at
Duverjay. Duverjay raised a silver crossbow and fired off a shot. The monster howled with pain, the sound growing impossibly loud. The whole world slowed for a moment, and Echo’s heart pounded as she realized that the creature was trying to pull her into another bolt-hole.
Echo stopped resisting the creature all at once, sagging against it. Surprised, the creature let her go for a moment, just long enough for Echo to clap her hands on it and release a frisson of power.
The howling stopped as her magic sizzled through the creature’s body, engulfing it in a blaze of light and heat. One second it gaped at her, teeth gnashing. The next second it was gone, destroyed.
Echo sucked in a deep breath even as her knees gave out. She was faintly aware of the fact that Duverjay had picked her up and began to carry her back to the Manor.
Her eyes rolled up in her head, the last thought in her mind being that perhaps she’d underestimated the butler after all.
12
Chapter Twelve
Rhys
Rhys stalked into the Manor, giving Gabriel a sharp glance. Gabriel had an arm wrapped around Echo’s tiny Aunt Ella, who looked as if she might keel over from exhaustion at any moment. Duverjay met them at the front door, giving Rhys an odd sort of bow.
“Your lady is upstairs resting,” the butler told Rhys. Duverjay had filled Rhys in on Echo’s near-disastrous escape attempt via text message, no doubt anticipating Rhys’s fury at the man’s failure to keep her in the Manor for a mere hour.
Rhys gave Duverjay a curt nod, and the butler made himself scarce. Rhys turned his attention to Gabriel, Aeric, and Tee-Elle.
“Gabriel’s going to take you upstairs to rest for a little while,” Rhys said, taking Tee-Elle’s hand and giving it a squeeze. “You and Echo can have breakfast together in the morning, as soon as you’re feeling up to it.”
“You’re too sweet,” Tee-Elle said, giving Rhys a faint smile and patting his arm. “That must be why my Echo likes you so much.”
Rhys’s gaze drifted up to the second floor, and he tried to keep his expression blank. Inside he was nothing but thunderously anger, but poor Tee-Elle didn’t need to know that.
“Must be,” Rhys muttered. “Gabriel, help her upstairs, please.”
Gabriel winked at Tee-Elle, making her laugh, and the two trudged up to the guest room on the first floor. Aeric had already given Rhys permission to put Tee-Elle there until something more permanent could be found for her.
“You’re probably going to have to beat her.”
Rhys’s gaze snapped to Aeric, who was looking far too amused.
“Shut up. I hope that when you find your mate, she tortures you twice as bad. Three times, actually.”
Aeric merely smirked and shrugged.
“I’m a thousand years old. If I haven’t found my mate yet, the chances that I will do so are almost zero,” Aeric replied.
Rhys tried not to gape at Aeric as the other Guardian turned and headed into the living area. A thousand years old? Rhys knew that bear shifters could live for hundreds of years, but a thousand years? He’d never heard of the like. Not to mention the fact that Aeric was in the prime of his life, as fit and sharp as anyone Rhys had ever encountered.
Aeric’s little revelation helped cool Rhys’s temper a bit, a welcome distraction. His anger dissipated somewhat as he headed upstairs, and when he found Echo sleeping soundly in his bed he found it difficult to maintain his ire.
When Rhys sat next to her on the bed Echo stirred, blinking awake and stretching. She froze when she saw him, biting her lower lip.
“I wasn’t trying to run,” she blurted out, a lovely flush spreading across her cheeks.
“No?” Rhys asked, raising a brow. It was difficult to keep a smile from his lips; she was sweet and vulnerable like this, wrapped up in the comforter as she brushed her mass of blonde hair back from her face.
“I just wanted to watch,” she sighed. “That’s why I had the mirror. But someone put a charm on the mirror to sting me if I tried to use it, so I needed to go outside the wards.”
Rhys chewed on that for a moment, shaking his head. She’d not only circumvented his wishes, but she’d actually managed to put herself in more danger doing so. Echo didn’t seem one to take orders well, and Rhys should have expected something like this. He had, actually, going so far as to warn Duverjay. Unfortunately Echo had proven too sneaky for the butler, nosy though he was.
“I understand,” Rhys said, choosing to let the subject lie.
“Yeah?” Echo said, pushing herself up to sit closer to him. “I thought you were gonna be really mad.”
Rhys smirked.
“Oh, I am,” he assured her. “Furious, in fact. With you, and with Duverjay. He was supposed to be babysitting you.”
Echo’s expression darkened, and he could see that she wanted to argue with his statement. She stared at him for several long moments, then rolled her eyes.
“Whatever,” she concluded, dropping her challenging gaze.
“Echo,” Rhys said, moving closer and cupping her jaw.
She flashed those stunning amethyst eyes at him, her lips parting to speak, but Rhys killed her response with a kiss. He tried to keep the kiss light and playful, but Echo couldn’t even let him have that much self-control. She answered his kiss with infinite passion, her hands clutching at his shoulders, a little moan vibrating from her throat.
Rhys deepened the kiss, tongue twining with hers, teasing and dancing until they were both breathless. Rhys had to force himself to pull back.
“Are you hurt? Tell me the truth,” he demanded, scanning her face.
“No,” Echo whispered. “Not a scratch.”
Rhys took her lips again with a hungry groan, releasing her only to strip off green sundress she wore. When he realized that it was his shirt she wore, a dam within him burst. He stared down at her, wearing nothing but a pair of skimpy white panties and his scent, and he knew he had to have her. There would be no more waiting. Rhys yanked his own shirt up and tore it off, then he laid Echo back against the thick, downy comforter.
He pulled her arms up over her head, pinning them there as he admired the graceful arc of her bare torso, the perfection of her naked breasts. Her nipples were already hardened peaks, and Rhys could see goosebumps covering her arms and ribs.
He leaned down, holding her wrists with one hand, and flicked his tongue over one perfect, dusky nipple. His mouth watered as he nibbled and sucked, drawing a breathy stutter from Echo’s lips. Releasing her hands, he cupped both of her breasts and lifted them higher, teasing her with his lips and teeth until she was writhing beneath him.
Echo’s fingernails trailed up and down his back in lazy lines, and Rhys had the distinct impression that she would be marking his flesh in a matter of minutes. The thought of Echo in the throes of passion urged Rhys on, and he rose to strip off her panties. Echo raised her hips to help him, but before he could descend on her again she stopped him with a hand to his chest.
“I want to see all of you,” she said, nibbling her bottom lip.
Echo’s hands fluttered to the waistband of his pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them before shoving them down his hips. Rhys stepped back from the bed and shucked his pants altogether, appreciating the startled look on Echo’s face as she examined him fully nude. His cock jutted proudly from his body, thick and hard with want for her, and when he returned to her side he groaned as Echo encircled his girth with shaking fingers.
He would have laughed at the awed expression on her face, but Echo explored his length with several tentative strokes, making every muscle in his body tense and shudder. When Echo swiped her tongue over her bottom lip and looked up at him with a questioning glance, Rhys shook his head.
“If you use your mouth on me, I’ll never last,” he said. “I’ve been hard for you since I laid eyes on you.”
Echo surprised him with a grin.
“I’ll be quick, I promise,” she said, pushing him onto his back.
“That�
�s what I’m afraid of,” Rhys said, but he made no effort to stop her as she crawled down his body.
Echo fisted his cock and teased the crown with quick lashes of her tongue, making Rhys wild. When the soft heat of her mouth engulfed the head of his cock, it took every ounce of Rhys’s control to let her be. All he wanted in that moment was to put a hand at the back of her head, angle her just the right way, and fuck her mouth with complete abandon. God knew he’d imagined it enough over the last week, the way it would feel if Echo took him all the way to the back of her throat.
His heart thundered in his chest, and it nearly killed him to pull her away. He needed to fuck her properly, seal their bond with a mating bite. Besides, he wanted to keep her in awe of his bedroom skills, something that surely wouldn’t happen if he spent in her mouth like a teenaged virgin.
But damn if her mouth wasn’t the sweetest thing he’d ever felt.
Easing Echo back from his cock, he pulled her up until she lay sprawled over his body. Kissing her deeply, he growled at the earthy taste of his cock on her tongue.
Echo slipped her hand between them and grasped his length once more, aligning their bodies. Rhys was shocked at her slickness when the crown of his cock met her sheath; the feeling of her readiness clawed at his control, and he knew he needed to take over lest she unman him.
Rhys smirked at the little gasp Echo gave when he flipped her over and spread her legs wide, gripping his dick and rubbing the head up and down her sex from clit to channel.
Echo whimpered, and Rhys was floored as much by her desire as his own. He took a slow minute to tease her clit with his thumb as he pressed the thick crown of his cock to her entrance, enjoying her frustrated moans. She clutched at his shoulders, trying to pull him closer, but Rhys let the moment build, wanting to savor the first moments.
When Echo bucked her hips up against him, forcing Rhys’s cock the barest inch into her body, Rhys lost some of his precious control. Gripping her hips, he watched her face as he pushed inside, sliding deep in one forceful thrust, stretching her body to accommodate him.
