“I think,” Cole said heavily, “we should go somewhere there is a door we can lock between us and the rest of the world.”
“The bedroom,” Zoe said, just as Declan did.
* * * * *
Zoe had stepped into the bedroom thousands of time before. Now, though, the room looked unfamiliar. She stopped a few feet inside the door, looking at the fireplace and the big bed and the tall windows.
This had been Cole and Declan’s room, too. Only now did she remember that.
Declan’s hand settled on her shoulder, making her jump. “Stop apologizing,” he whispered in her ear.
“I didn’t.”
“In your head, you did.” He moved around her. His eyes were dancing. “I think if you had walked into this room one night when we were both in it, we would have locked the door behind you and thrown away the key. You’re not an intruder, Zoe. You never have been.”
“She wouldn’t come in here. Not for weeks,” Cole said. “We would sleep on the sofa, downstairs, instead.” He went into the bathroom and shut the door.
“Did you actually get any sleep?” Declan asked curiously.
Zoe could feel her cheeks heating again. “Some.”
Declan’s smile grew warmer. “Who kissed who first?”
“I…don’t remember,” she lied. They had been arguing. It had been nearly a year since Declan’s funeral. Lately, all they had seemed to do was argue, getting more wound up with each passing day, although neither of them had suggested quitting the almost daily lunch dates. The argument had continued out in the restaurant parking lot as Cole strode to his truck, fishing out his keys, his hand shaking with fury. She had followed him, determined to get in the last word and she had. Then he had cut her off by spinning to face her, pulling her up against him and shutting her up with his lips.
The arguments had evaporated after that and Cole had proposed barely three months later.
Declan seemed to see the memories play in her head. “Perhaps you’ll be able to tell me some other day,” he said. “When you know in your heart I don’t mind.”
“Perhaps,” she said cautiously, yet her heart had skipped a beat at the mention of future days. She had barely been able to think beyond the next moment. Days from now were blank wastelands of speculation.
The emotion in Declan’s eyes grew heated. “Although if Cole took care of you the way he always took care of me, then no wonder you didn’t get any sleep.”
Zoe gasped softly.
Declan leaned toward her. “Between you and me,” he said, his voice so low she could barely hear it. “Weren’t you amazed that such a white-bread, morally upright guy could be so inventive in bed?”
Zoe could feel her eyes widen in shocked recognition. The first time they had made love had been in Cole’s truck, barely minutes after that first kiss, both of them shaking with the power of their mutual orgasms. He had only put her aside long enough to put the truck in gear and drive back to the house. His jeans had stayed open, his cock beating against his stomach. His hand had wandered over her as he drove, stripping her naked there on the seat.
Then he had taken her again, parked in front of the house and three more times between the truck and the sofa, where they had finally come to rest.
“Ay, I can see you were,” Declan said. “I never could get enough of him.”
Zoe dropped her gaze and Declan lifted her chin, making her look at him. “Don’t,” he said firmly. “It is what it is. We go on from here.”
“Good advice,” Cole said, as he moved toward them. “Guilt is over-rated.”
“Then we’re agreed,” Declan said. “Now, can I kiss her again?”
Chapter Seven
It was only when Diego heard voices upstairs that he realized there was a set of stairs at the back of the house, as well as the grand staircase here in the front hall. He listened only long enough to confirm it was the three of them, before shutting his hearing down by focusing on the text on his phone and glancing out through the door pane occasionally.
Even from this far away, Diego could see the moving shapes among the trees. They roved ceaselessly, drawing his gaze. How long until they broke and came at the house? Would they wait for sunset, if they realized the trinity was sealing the bond? Even Diego could feel the building power from the three. There was conflict there, still, mostly from Zoe as a result of their shared history. However, Declan understood the power of the trinities. Diego hoped he would be able to bind the three of them properly. Cole…well, he was the unknown. He was amenable, so far, yet his whole life had been a pattern of outwardly conforming while secretly and flagrantly rebelling against that conformity.
Something to the far left of the bridge caught Diego’s eye. He got to his feet, adjusted the sit of the gun harness around his shoulders and peered through the left-hand side pane. There was movement there that wasn’t the same as the restless circling the hounds were doing closer to the bridge.
He narrowed his eyes, bringing the details into focus.
It was a bear. The creature was sliding down the slopes of the foothills, through the trees there. Its direction would take it right into the clearing in front of the house, where the snow lay thick and untouched.
Diego pushed the door open and stepped out onto the verandah for a clearer view. Bears did not frighten him. He had the strength to tackle one if he really had to and now, thanks to Blake and Sera, he had his guns, too.
It looked as though he might not have to deal with the bear at all. It was ambling through the trees and the hounds were all heading in its direction. The hounds were big, too, and there were more of them. They might encourage the bear to go back to its den.
Den. Winter
Bears hibernate in winter.
Understanding flared in him. Diego clutched the post. “It’s not a bear,” he whispered, staring at the black shape as it loped through the trees.
The hounds met it with growls that rolled out over the snow. Diego’s fangs descended as his animal instincts were prodded by the sound. He made them retract and waited.
The bear lifted a platter-sized paw and batted at the first hound to reach it. The hound was tossed aside, yelping in pain.
So were a third and a fourth. The bear only slowed its pace long enough to swat at each hound it passed, using its shoulders to barrel through them, much as Diego had done with the Mustang.
When the bear reached the clearing and started running through the hip-high snow, throwing up clouds of white with each loping stride, Diego pulled out one of his guns and cocked it. The bear was heading directly for the house.
The hounds stayed back at the tree line, howling and yelping.
Diego moved out to the top step and raised the gun, tracking the bear. When it reached the gravel where the snow had been ploughed away, he said, “Stop right there. These are .45s and they’re silver. They might not stop a normal bear, but they’ll kill you well enough.”
The bear came to a halt, sniffing and breathing hard. Then it lifted up onto its back legs.
Diego watched it change calmly. He had seen shifters change before, only this time he concentrated on keeping his aim steady.
The man was older than he expected. Perhaps in his sixties, which was unusual for a shifter. They tended to die young. He was naked, of course and wrapped his arms around his middle. “I know what you are,” he said. “I came to speak to you.”
“Even though the vampeen control this area?”
He shrugged. “I got through. It’s about the Grimoré. You’re one of them, aren’t you? The trinities, I mean.”
Diego didn’t lower the gun. “How do you know about them?”
“Everyone knows, now. Word has passed.”
Diego nodded. The supernatural world had its own version of the Internet, a combination of word of mouth, telekinesis and other powers, along with ancient instincts that whispered to those who had lived long about unnamed new threats to their survival.
“Shifters are demon-blood,”
Diego said. “Why should I trust you?”
“You probably shouldn’t. I have information you should have, though.”
Diego lowered the gun. “Wait,” he said. He went back in the house, grabbed the biggest coat on the rack and came back out. He tossed it onto the gravel. “Put it on. You can talk from there.”
The shifter came forward and Diego could see faint scars all over his body. He had fought hard to live this long. He bent and picked up the coat and slipped it on. “Thank you.”
“Talk,” Diego said. He didn’t aim the gun. He didn’t put it away, either.
The man’s black eyes were fathomless and unreadable, just like his bear soul. “I heard there’s a demon working with you.”
“You said you had news.”
The shifter raised his hand. It was big, just as the bear’s had been. “The Grimoré are moving south. The vampeen with them. They’re driving everything before them. They’re eating anything they can find, too.”
“You came down from the north?”
The shifter’s eyes were troubled. “There are whole villages up there with not a soul left in them and no one left to report the loss.” He wrapped his arms around himself again. Diego knew it wasn’t for warmth this time. “Demon blood. Human blood. Elvish kind…none of us is safe anymore. Even those demons who agree to work with the Grimoré are consumed once their work is done.” He smiled and his smile was bitter. “Finally, the demons are learning for themselves what it is like to make a deal with a devil.”
Diego considered this. “The Grimoré are moving south?”
The shifter nodded. “I would work with you. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. I can help you defeat them. And I know others, too.”
“Other shifters?”
He nodded.
“What’s your name?” Diego demanded.
Something in the man’s face roiled. “I was called Gilbert, once.”
Diego steeled himself against the empathy that wanted to form. He remembered that sense of desolation and loneliness only too well. He put the safety on the Glock and put it away. “I’m going to have you taken somewhere safe, Gilbert. Seaveth will put you to work and you will work your paws off. Understand that no one will trust you completely, not ever, not even while you work beside them.”
Gilbert sighed. “I do not blame you for that.”
“If you turn on us, if your animal gets loose, I will be the first to put a bullet in your brain and I will not hesitate.”
Gilbert nodded.
“If you truly want to stop these fuckers, then I welcome you to the fight,” Diego told him. He pulled out his phone and dialed. “We can use all the help we can get.”
* * * * *
Cole came right up behind Zoe and put his arms around her. He was still wearing only the pajama bottoms and his chest against her back was hot. She snuggled, closing her eyes. He often came up behind her in this way, wherever she happened to be around the house. Sometimes he would only kiss the nape of her neck. Sometimes, though, his hands would slide up to cup her breasts and tweak the nipples. Or he would strip her jeans down to her ankles, shove her panties down her legs and bend her over and slide into her, making her nerves leap to high, silvered alert.
He did none of those things now. Instead his hands settled on her hips. “It seems to me that we need an ice-breaker, so Zoe can relax.”
“I don’t think Declan can drink,” Zoe murmured. It was a miracle he could touch anything at all. Ghosts were supposed to be wisps of spirit left behind and were usually beneath a hunter’s horizon of interest. “Although nothing would surprise me now.”
Declan grinned. “Cole isn’t talking about alcohol,” he told her. His gaze met Cole’s over her head. “Right?”
“Right.” Cole’s voice rumbled against her shoulders. “Can you take your clothes off at all? Or are you like every ghost I’ve ever seen in the movies, stuck the way you are?”
Declan frowned. “Good question. Let’s find out.” He reached for the hem of the tee shirt and lifted it. “So far, so good,” he murmured. “So….” He pulled it up over his head and dropped it.
The tee shirt disappeared.
“Did I just see…did it vanish?” Cole asked.
“It was never really here,” Zoe breathed. “Just as Declan isn’t really here. Only his spirit is solid enough to touch, because of the bonding.”
Declan looked down at his bare chest. “It’s my body,” he said.
“You’ve even got the same mole there, just under your pecs,” Cole said.
Declan touched the little mark. “It feels normal to me. It feels just as it used to. If you two hadn’t fallen apart the way you did when I arrived in the kitchen and if I didn’t have a blank spot in my mind after the avalanche, I’d say you were both lying and I’m as real as you are.” His hands dropped to the button of his jeans. His jeans rode low on his hips and were loose enough to slide a hand inside. Zoe suddenly itched to do just that, only she was very aware of Cole standing right behind her, his chest rubbing her back with maddening little touches, making her nerves twitch and stirring her arousal.
Instead, she fisted her hands and watched as Declan opened the button. His long, clever fingers picked up the tab of the zipper and lowered it.
“The look on your face…” he breathed.
Zoe swallowed. “I’m—”
“Don’t say you’re sorry,” Cole said quickly. “Declan, we really need to cure her of that.”
“Agreed.” He pushed his jeans down his legs and stepped out of them, sliding his sneakers off at the same time. Then he straightened up, utterly naked.
Zoe caught her breath. She loved Cole’s physical perfection. He had spent his years in the military and since he had left the Army, honing his body, working it hard and sculpting the muscles. Declan, on the other hand, used his intellect for his profession and although he had sometimes worked out with Cole, he wasn’t nearly as interested in pushing his body and gaining every scrap of strength the way Cole was.
Even so, Declan had a well-shaped body, with plenty of muscle, just not huge amounts of it. There was absolutely no spare fat on him. His belly was flat and rippled over the muscles. His arms and shoulders were rounded and looked strong.
Zoe looked down. She couldn’t help herself. Her gaze was drawn there, as if it was on rails. His cock was fully erect and beating with life. It was thick, the flared head darker on the edges.
Her heart leapt.
“You haven’t changed an inch,” Cole breathed. His chest was rising and falling more rapidly and she could feel his heart, too, beating against her.
Declan smiled. “If I’m really a ghost, then maybe I can change how I appear. Another inch might be useful.”
“No,” Zoe and Cole said together.
Declan looked at her. “You like what you see, then.”
She cleared her throat softly. “Yes.” It still came out almost hoarse.
Cole’s fingers squeezed her hips. “Touch him,” he said in her ear.
Her heart was slamming against her chest and her fingers felt thick and awkward as she lifted them up toward him. Her whole body felt as though it was pulsing with aching need.
It didn’t surprise her to see her hand was shaking. She laid it against Declan’s chest.
“You’re not hot,” she breathed. “Not like Cole.”
“He’s not cold, either,” Cole said.
Declan curled his fingers around her wrist and drew her hand down, so the tips of her fingers trailed over his flesh. “Take what you really want,” he told her and pressed her palm against his cock.
Shuddering with overwhelming excitement, she gripped him. Declan gasped, his eyes narrowing even farther. “Feels good,” he muttered. “Your hand is almost scalding.”
Cole let out a ragged breath. “Just watching is overwhelming.” Although, he wasn’t just watching. His fingers were stroking her hips. Their movements had lifted the hem of her shirt and the tips were gliding over her f
lesh beneath. Wherever his hands touched, little sparks seemed to jump, making her nerves scream. The position of his fingers, toying with the band of her jeans, was suggestive.
Then, almost as if he was reading her mind, Cole pushed his hand underneath her jeans.
Zoe gave a raw gasp, her hips jerking forward in reaction. Her hand moved, sliding up Declan’s shaft, coming up against the head and he made a strangled sound in his throat.
“Undo her jeans,” he whispered.
Cole’s spare hand snagged the button and flicked it undone. Because of the pressure of his hand beneath the zipper, he only had to lift the tab up and the zipper opened almost by itself.
He spread his fingers over her lower belly, the ends resting over her panties.
“I might come just from watching you do that,” Declan said roughly. His hands were at his sides, the knuckles white, the tendons in his wrists straining.
“This?” Cole pushed his fingers under her panties and curved them around to cup her mons. The middle finger slipped between her lips, up against her soaked and slippery clit.
Just that light touch was enough to send a shudder of pleasure through her. She was starting to shake with it. She had to concentrate to slide her own hand the length of Declan’s cock, teasing the head with her fingers. Her heart gave an extra squeeze as he moaned and his pelvis thrust.
Cole gripped the hem of her shirt with his other hand and pulled it up, until her bare breasts were revealed, the shirt rucked up over the top of the slope. She had small breasts, yet once Cole had found out how sensitive the nipples were, he rarely left them alone.
Her nipples crinkled and tightened at the touch of the air and she let her head roll back against his shoulder as Cole caught a nipple between his fingers and teased. There seemed to be a single line of nerves between her breasts and her clit, a direct connection that made any touch of her nipples extraordinarily arousing. She could feel the slickness of her pussy, the throb of her clit and the growing need to be fucked as hard as possible.
Zoe's Blockade (Destiny's Trinities Book 5) Page 6
