Unleashing the Storm

by Sydney Croft

  “You had been born just days earlier, and Darius died screaming your name,” Oz said. “Some sort of spell to locate you in death. His ghost found you, has been watching you since you were a baby, waiting until you were strong. Strong enough to take on Itor, to help him get his revenge.”

  “Why me?”

  Oz stopped his pacing in front of Dev. “Darius thinks you’ll want revenge too.”

  “Because Itor killed my parents?”

  “No. Shit.” Oz cleared his throat, something he only did when he was nervous, which didn’t happen. Ever. “Alek’s girlfriend was pregnant—and eight months into the pregnancy, she wised up. Darius helped her escape. He brought her to the United States, to people he’d learned about through secret channels.”

  Dev’s heart started to pound, and an icy sweat broke out on his forehead. “I don’t want to hear any more.” He scooted backward on the bed, but Oz caught him by the shoulders and brought him forward, his grip strong but trembling.

  “Those people, the O’Malleys, adopted the baby to keep it safe,” Oz said, his voice grim, as deep as if it had been dredged up from the pits of hell, and Dev had to struggle to breathe. “Dev, the O’Malleys raised you, but your biological father is Itor’s leader.”

  The world spun and Darius slammed into his body with a victorious shriek.

  “Dev, stay with me,” Oz commanded, but his voice sounded far away. The icy hands of the ghost he now knew as Darius touched his back and Dev understood why Creed had been so freaked out when this ghost touched him.

  It was a touch from hell…sexual and so much more. Soul-sucking. “I’m not going to be anyone’s puppet,” Dev growled, more to himself than Darius, but the ghost seemed to understand, to grip Dev even tighter.

  “Good, that’s good,” Oz murmured. “Dev, we can’t wait…I know you want more answers, but—”

  “We’re not going to find them here,” Dev said. “Do whatever you have to do. I trust you.”

  “I’m going to drive it out—for good.”

  “Yes,” Dev said, his hands on Oz’s shoulders to ground himself. “Oz, am I really…Oh, my God…Itor.”

  “Clear your mind now. We’ll figure all that out once Darius is gone.”

  But Dev heard himself babbling, repeating, “Itor,” over and over, until Oz took him by the shoulders and shook him hard.

  “Dammit, Dev, we don’t have provisions in place for ACRO if you have a breakdown. You’ve got to stay with me…you have to fight.”

  Fight. Yes, Dev could do that. Except his second sight had faded to almost nothing, his skin felt too tight for his body and he was cold. “So cold, Oz.”

  Oz pushed him back to the bed, spread his hands on Dev’s back, and a searing heat came through his palms that made Dev hiss. The floor beneath the bed shook with a force that their combined weight wasn’t responsible for.

  When an invisible hand caressed his cheek, he shivered harder and fought Oz’s hands.

  “He’s mine. Do you hear me? He’s all fucking mine,” Oz said, his voice low and controlled.

  “Oz, please,” he moaned, because he wasn’t sure what the hell was going to happen. He didn’t know whether or not Oz’s possessive display was just an act for the spirit, and he wasn’t sure he cared if it was.

  The caress became a rough slap, first on one cheek and then the other. Dev struggled to get up on all fours, groaned as Oz pressed his back harder and harder, thankful he’d shut down his CRV because he didn’t want to see this, not the way his body bowed to Oz’s or the way the muscles in his former lover’s shoulders flexed.

  Walls shuddered, ceilings creaked and something fiercer than the wind and ten times more pissed howled between his ears.

  “Concentrate on me,” Oz told him, bit the top of his ear hard enough to bring him back to earth momentarily.

  He didn’t want to come back, wanted to forget Oz and the spirit and just concentrate on himself for once, lose every single sense.

  But Oz refused to let him, the tug-of-war for Dev’s soul so fierce that Dev realized he’d half collapsed onto his elbows, the spirit scrambling his mind and his body.

  “Love you, Dev. Always have. I’ll keep you safe,” Oz murmured, and Dev knew just how to help Oz get rid of this spirit that threatened to take everything from him.

  With an incredible power he didn’t think he had, Dev shoved Oz off of him and turned to face him. His second sight was still gone, but he reached out to grab the warm body he knew was right in front of him, pulled at Oz and kissed him, long and hard, until Oz was pushing him back down to the mattress, his aura strong enough to battle with the spirit Dev knew was watching.

  Oz didn’t care, kissed Dev harder, in a fight for all his attention, and Dev gave in easily, let Oz’s tongue duel with his, their kiss part apology, part promise.

  He didn’t resist when Oz stripped his shirt off, ran his tongue over Dev’s nipples until Dev moaned.

  “Like the first time,” Dev whispered. “Do it just like the first time.”

  Oz chuckled against Dev’s chest. “You were trembling then. So scared.”

  “I wasn’t scared—I was cold,” Dev scoffed, remembering his bravado, and the way Oz hadn’t been all that gentle but still managed to make it amazing.

  It was still amazing, and he yelled that thought out to Oz as Oz entered him, and then his breath caught in his throat, and the enormity of what was going to happen after they finished here overwhelmed him.

  Dev could feel Darius quelling with fear as he attempted to fight the bond between the two men…could feel the spirit’s last attempt at a fight as it realized it had no hope of battling Oz.

  “Don’t try to use your CRV. Just picture it, the way it was,” Oz commanded.

  Oz’s cock inside him for the first time, so impossibly hard it made Dev’s head spin, put tears in his eyes, and yes, he’d been shaking, a mix of fear and excitement running through his blood.

  “The way you remember,” Oz said.

  Oz murmuring in his ear about how hot Dev was, how much he was going to enjoy it when Oz started pumping his hips, and, oh, his back arched off the bed as Oz angled his cock to hit his prostate over and over.

  “This thing can’t get into your memories, no matter how hard it tries,” Oz murmured.

  Dev tightened his legs around Oz’s waist and trusted Oz, the way he had when he was seventeen and cried out Oz’s name, the first man to ever touch him.

  He’d been with many since Oz, too many to count after they’d broken up that first time.

  It had been Dev’s idea, but Oz had gone along with it, for reasons Dev hadn’t even begun to understand until nearly four years ago, when Dev made the horrible, but necessary choice to contact the spirit they now knew as Darius.

  “Stop thinking, Devlin,” Oz whispered. “Stop thinking and just feel.”

  Oz pulled out, all the way, and Dev heard himself moan in protest. In seconds, Dev’s legs were nearly on Oz’s shoulders, and Oz entered him again, first teased him with the head of his cock and then with a deep push that filled Dev in a way no one else ever could.

  “Mine,” Oz growled fiercely, and something just as impressive growled back, a low timbre that sent a wave of energy through the room. Not evil. Different. And then he felt as if the floorboards would drive right through the mattress.

  “Leave him the hell alone.”

  For now…not forever. The high-pitched voice made Dev open his eyes, and he stared straight into Oz’s. No CRV. Just pure, goddamned, clear as the day he last flew his C-130, sight.

  He needed to keep this moment forever, the look in Oz’s eyes, the way his dark hair hung over his forehead, neither too long nor too short. Perfect. Just perfect.

  Oz gave a powerful thrust of his hips, sent his cock plunging hard enough to make Dev’s eyes roll to the back of his head. Except he refused to let that happen, kept his eyes on Oz’s as they came simultaneously, the hot semen bonding the two men—hot and complicated—together agai
n.

  MONDAY 4 A.M. MST

  Ender put pedal to the metal in order to reach the LZ. By his calculations, they’d be well into the air by the time Kira would need sex again. The flight to ACRO would take between six and seven hours, leaving them enough time to deplane before she’d need servicing again. Once on the ground, he could easily find someplace private before shuttling her off to the training facility.

  The thought of dropping her off made his head ache. He blamed the fact that he’d thrown out his hamburger after hearing Kira’s story—even though he knew he needed real meat, and fast, he just couldn’t bring himself to force it down.

  Once Kira got to ACRO, he wouldn’t have to worry about any of this. She’d be someone else’s problem.

  “Are you all right?” Kira was asking, and he realized he’d made it to the LZ, had parked the car and was just sitting there staring out at the sleek private jet.

  “I’m fine. Let’s go.”

  “But you’ve got this funny look on your face. Like you’re in pain,” she persisted, and she was touching him again. It wasn’t sexual, but her hand was caressing the back of his neck, just the same, as if she knew where his pain was.

  He stopped arguing, let his head drop forward, and she shifted in her seat so she could work the tight muscles in the back of his neck more easily. Her fingers kneaded his flesh expertly and she was murmuring, “This will help, Tommy,” and even though it was nowhere near time to have her again, he still had the urge to lay her down on the seat and have her, deep and hard.

  He put his hand over hers and moved it off of his skin.

  “Better?” she asked, and no, it wasn’t better. And it wasn’t going to be better. Not for a long while, and maybe never.

  “Let’s go.” He opened his car door, grabbed his bag and started walking toward the plane, not bothering to make sure she was following behind him.

  He ignored the pilot he knew only as Ben, in favor of shoving his gear into the open door. He prepared to board, because they were already slightly behind schedule, when he heard the guy flapping his gums.

  “You did the right thing, agreeing to sign on,” Ben was telling Kira.

  “I’m not sure you understand,” she started, but Ender turned, shot her a look, and she shut her mouth fast.

  “Did you think I wouldn’t get the job done?” he asked Ben, who smiled and looked nervously between Ender and Kira.

  “Never doubted it, buddy,” Ben said.

  Ender’s hand shot out, pinning the pilot to the side of the jet by his throat. “I’m not your fucking buddy.” He let go of Ben and turned to Kira, who’d gone wide-eyed. “Get in.”

  He helped her board. Ben had already scrambled in and away from Ender, headed to the cockpit, where he’d no doubt lock the door behind him. If Ben knew what was good for him, he’d leave the two of them alone for the remainder of the flight.

  Ender could feel the questions radiating off Kira—the slight panic, the need to escape. But the jet lifted, sleek and solid, and there was no turning back for either of them.

  CHAPTER

  Seventeen

  The flight had been long, largely silent, and with the exception of one memorable round of sex in the aisle, in the seats, and against the cockpit door, boring. Tom had seemed agitated, and no matter how often she asked why, the answer had always been the same: It doesn’t matter.

  She’d grown used to his strange hot and cold moods, the ones that made him seem so caring and gentle, and then in the next instant distant and frosty. But this was different. He was on edge, snappish, and he’d scared the crap out of her when he grabbed the pilot by the throat and slammed him against the plane.

  Tom was about as predictable as a pissed-off wolverine. Even now, as they exited the plane on the tarmac of the agency he called ACRO, he puffed up and bared his teeth when the driver of the Humvee waiting for them looked at her for a little too long. Seemed like an odd thing to do, considering the fact that he was about to hand her off to the Training department, where, apparently, servicing her needs by someone else had been arranged.

  The thought made her chest hurt as they climbed into the vehicle.

  “Tommy…” Her voice wavered, and she cleared her throat before scooting forward in the seat to talk to him where he sat in the front. “Are we going there now? Because you said you’d take care of, uh, things, beforehand.”

  “We’re going to the animal facility.”

  “Oh. Good.” He’d told her all about it, and this had been the one thing she’d looked forward to seeing at ACRO.

  Sitting back, she took in the compound, the squat gray buildings, the rounded hangars…an old military base. Given the state of the surroundings, she expected a cold, lablike facility where the animals were kept—experimented on or some crap—but when the driver pulled into the parking lot of a beautiful, modern building complete with cement sculptures of animals, she gasped. Green fields stretched beyond the structure, and to the right, an equestrian arena and stables that would make the Budweiser Clydesdales jealous took up a couple of acres. Dozens of dogs barked and jumped excitedly in the kennels to the left.

  As she stepped out of the SUV, a dark-haired, very tanned man approached, his black BDUs peppered with animal hair.

  “Hi,” he said, extending his hand. “Kira, right? I’m Zach Taylor. Your supervisor.”

  Supervisor? His supposition was a little premature, but she merely nodded and drew back her hand before physical contact impacted his libido. It was nearly time to mate again, and her need had already affected Zach in small ways, if the glazed-over look in his eyes was any indication.

  Tom donned a pair of sunglasses and relaxed, one hip propped against the vehicle as she smiled at Zach. “You’ve got a beautiful facility.”

  “It’s yours too.”

  “Look, you should know—”

  “Let’s get on with it,” Tom snapped, pushing away from the Humvee. “She’s supposed to meet her trainers in an hour.”

  Zach scowled, and for a moment she swore she could see testosterone winging through the air between them. Babs would have sent Kira the usual sentiment, that males were dumb.

  “I’d really like to see the animals,” she said quickly, and Zach snapped out of it, took her by the elbow to guide her toward the building.

  He led them on a tour of the facility, which was more impressive on the inside than the outside. The back half was dedicated to medical offices, where ACRO employed a full-time veterinarian and had another on call. A good portion of the building belonged to kitchens that prepared controlled, healthy diets for each individual animal’s requirements. And every animal handler possessed skills similar to hers, though from what Zach told her, she was by far the strongest animal psychic they’d ever seen or had even believed existed.

  “If I was to join, would I be able to keep some of my animals here?” she asked, as they walked through the immaculate barn.

  “If?” Zach shot Tom a confused glance, but Tom’s flat expression discouraged questions, and Zach shrugged. “I suppose it could be arranged.”

  She stopped to talk with one of the horses, learned that his job was to carry security forces along the wooded perimeters where vehicles couldn’t go. And he was very excited to tell her about the time he’d been entered in a European jumping competition.

  “Why would this horse have been flown overseas?”

  “The animals sometimes provide cover for our operatives. Omar was a world-class jumper before a minor fetlock injury took him out of the pro circuit. His participation in a competition allowed one of our agents to get close to a Spanish diplomat with an interest in equestrian sports.”

  “So you don’t train animals for war or to carry bombs into enemy territory or anything, right?”

  “Never,” Zach said fiercely. “The animals are trained to work with humans, not for them, and they always know the risks involved with every mission.”

  Interesting.

  The rest of the tour proved
just as interesting, and all the animals she talked to had similar stories. In the kennels, the dogs practically overwhelmed her with tales of how they’d helped their humans, of how the humans played with them, took them home, gave them the best treats.

  There had to be a catch.

  “You’re wondering if there’s a catch,” Zach said softly, as he crouched next to her where she was scratching the ears of a fluffy malamute mix.

  “Can you read people too?”

  He smiled, and her breath caught. The man was devastatingly handsome, in a less rugged way than Tom, who was a few yards away, tossing a ball for a border collie.

  “I can only read animals, but I had the same concerns when I came here. ACRO’s been good to me. To all of us. Dev even promised that if the little bar we have on the compound ever starts serving food, it’ll be vegetarian.”

  She smiled at that, warmed inside, because suddenly, she was amongst people like her. With the exception of Marcia, Kira hadn’t ever related well to humans, nor them to her. And until Tom, she’d never known what it was like to be with someone. Someone who knew what she was and didn’t care.

  This place couldn’t be real, and if it was, there had to be a dark side.

  “Kira?” Zach’s hand ran in slow, soothing strokes up and down her spine. “Are you okay? You seem a little distant.”

  “It’s a lot to take in.” The familiar ache began to throb deep in her pelvis, and she exhaled slowly. She needed Tommy.

  Thigh muscles quivering as though preparing to squeeze Tom between them, she started to stand, but Zach’s palm burned into her back, holding her in place. Her gaze slammed into his, into the blatant lust that burned in his golden brown eyes. Lynx eyes, like Rafi’s. And damn, she missed her babies.

  “It’s true, isn’t it? Your spring fever.”

  She nodded, because denying it seemed pointless. No doubt Tom had reported everything to these people. Then again, they’d known a lot about her even before Tom had sauntered into her life.

  “When…”

  “Now,” she croaked, and jerked away, but again, he held her. She trembled beneath the sensual strokes of his fingers as they worked their way up to her cheek. She needed Tom.