by Sonya Clark
The photo hidden behind a password on his phone.
He was trancehacking. Somehow, someway, he was trancehacking.
“Dale!” Her voice came to him as if underwater, miles away and carried on slow currents.
Two images of her fought for dominance in his mind. In one she smiled on a faraway beach, in the other she lay helpless as magic twisted through her out of control. Surrounding both was a dark field lit by senseless words and images, background noise trying to drown out everything else. Hayes focused on the image of Tuyet on the ground, in pain, needing his help.
“Tell me what you need, Snow.”
“Hold me down. I can’t.” She screamed, face contorted. “I can’t latch on to anything solid.”
Electricity and witchlight covered her. Just holding her hand had brought the most incredible pressure to his head he’d ever felt and drawn him into the magic tearing through her system. What would holding her down do? He covered her body with his before the thought even finished. He managed to get his hands under her to cushion the fall before she came to the ground again. She still cried out, the impact not gentle. Neither was the series of electric shocks that rocketed through his body. Cursing, he pressed himself to her, trapping her between his body and the ground. A kaleidoscope of witchlight flashed around them at seizure-inducing speed. Hayes shut his eyes and dropped his head into the curve of her neck and shoulder.
The touch of her hand on his arm barely registered at first. He waited for some indication it was deliberate, rather than an accident of the convulsions. She stroked upward, slowly, then tightened her fingers around muscle. He had his answer. Releasing a breath in grateful relief, he glided his lips across the sensitive skin of her throat, more reflex than a conscious attempt at a kiss. Her body responded as if the touch burned her with pleasure, arching into him, limbs wending around his. He found her mouth with his, every nerve in his body exploding with such intense sensation that he couldn’t tell if he was feeling pleasure or pain. It went on and on, the sweet slide of her tongue and the stinging, stabbing shock of electrical current and the strange, unfamiliar something that might have been magic. It threatened to hollow him out from the core. Burn away everything but blind desire for this woman, this creature made of magic and gold and endless night.
All he knew for sure was that he didn’t want it to end.
Tuyet drew away, gasping. The world fell into a hole, quiet and dark and devoid of sensation. Slowly Hayes came back into himself. The smell of the river wafted on the humid night air. Distant sounds from busy streets. Tuyet’s body under his on the rapidly cooling ground. He processed everything as if his brain was swimming through mud.
“We need to get out of here,” she whispered.
“Uh-huh.” Still trying to catch up.
She pushed at his shoulders weakly. Her vulnerability was the cold water he needed to knock himself back firmly into reality. She was in danger out in the open like this, still hurt, and Channing could wake up at any time.
Hayes glanced behind them to check on their former teammate. Channing was gone. Hayes swore under his breath, not wanting to alarm Tuyet. All that electric magic had probably scared Channing off. By now he could have flagged down a police officer, called for help, done any number of things that would cause problems for Hayes and Tuyet. They had to get out of the open, fast.
He rolled off of her carefully. “What’s the quickest way out of here, away from crowds?”
“The tunnels.” Her eyes were a deep chestnut flecked with amber. He had to force himself to look away.
“Let’s go.”
Chapter Sixteen
Tuyet woke in a strange bed, aching all over. She sat up gingerly and looked around. It was clearly a hotel but not the one in Midtown where Hayes had a room. Damn sure not in Rock, either.
The bed was huge and decadent with pillows, a black duvet and red sheets that must have had an insanely high thread count. Heavy curtains blocked the view, giving her no idea of the time. Sumptuous furnishings in the same black-and-red color scheme as the bed were arranged in a seating area, the back of a sofa facing the bed. An accent table held a crystal vase overflowing with red roses in bloom. A suitcase was dumped on the floor in front of a closet, clothes spilling out. The bathroom door was ajar to allow a few inches of light to spill out.
Soft snoring came from the sofa. Unbidden, her mouth worked itself into a smile. When she thought of how much Hayes had just given up for her, the smile faded.
She sank back into the bed and pulled the covers over her head. They had a metric ton of issues to deal with, but surely it wouldn’t hurt to sleep a little while longer. Every inch of her body ached and her head was way too full of fuzz to even attempt serious thought.
The next time she woke, the smell of food filled the room.
“Wakie, wakie, eggs and bakey.” Hayes clapped his hands together. “I got every breakfast food known to man and God in here.”
Guilt and hunger battled it out for a full thirty seconds before she left the bed on unsteady legs. Hayes sat at a small round dining table. A huge room-service cart was parked next to it, laden with covered dishes and carafes of coffee and orange juice. He leaned over and picked up a cover, revealing scrambled eggs.
“Put that back! I need two minutes.” She stumbled to the bathroom.
“I will eat every single slice of bacon if you don’t hurry up.”
Face washed and hair in a ponytail, Tuyet rejoined him minutes later feeling a few steps closer to human. The sight of him brought her up short and she came to a halt by the empty chair. His hair, though regulation length, somehow managed to look like a bird’s nest. The stubble was working its way back, a dark gold shadow on his jaw. His blue eyes glowed with happiness and he wore the dirty sunlight smile that made her stomach do flips and her knees want to melt.
“I poured you some coffee.” He gestured at the steaming cup on her side of the table. “Hope you still like lots of milk and sugar because that’s the way I made it.”
It smelled like heaven. Better, like good quality coffee, something she hadn’t had much of in the past three years. She sat and picked up the cup, held it in front of her to savor the aroma.
His smile widened, crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Let’s have breakfast first. Then we talk.”
Those tiny lines at the corners of his eyes were so damned sexy it was unfair. Tuyet sipped her coffee, not sure what to make of the strange feeling working its way through her. “Good morning,” she said.
“Good morning,” he said, nodding. “Yeah.”
They ate in cautious silence, making skittery eye contact like animals testing each other. His hand brushed hers when they reached for toast at the same time. Her bare foot found his under the table. She curled her toes in the hair on his lower calf and tugged.
Hayes grunted, pausing with a forkful of eggs in the air. Tuyet painted a look of innocence on her face and went about pouring orange juice.
Too soon, the food was demolished and the coffee cold. Hayes cleared the dishes and pushed the cart into the hall, then locked the door.
“How’d you swing a room at the Grand?” Tuyet had recognized the stylized G on the monogrammed robes in the bathroom. The New Corinth Grand was the biggest, swankiest hotel in the city.
“Always have a backup plan. Or a bolt hole, whatever you want to call it.”
Tuyet strode through the room, examining the plush furnishings and decorative touches. “This is a pricy bolt hole.” The last time she’d been in a place like this had been on their final mission together, in a small but lavish hotel overlooking the Mediterranean. She’d always let herself enjoy those brief tastes of luxury on the job, precisely because they were guaranteed not to last. Safety in brevity, like the safety in the illusion of Mr. and Mrs. Jones.
But how safe was this, really?
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“Which means it’s the last place anyone will look for us. We can’t stay long, but we should be good for a couple of days at least.”
“How did you find out Channing was here?” She tucked herself into a corner of the sofa, feet under her, arms wrapped around her knees.
“I asked Gibson what she knew about TMG. She found out he works there and has been here for some time. While you were sleeping she emailed again. Channing is a night security guard at the local station.” Hayes sat in the wing chair parallel to her, on the other side of a low table.
“A night watchman? That’s gotta chap that massive ego of his.”
“I don’t know if it’s part of his job to look at B-roll footage or what, but he’s got to be the one who sent that video to Talbot. He recognized you as Tina Jones. Not many people would.”
“Yeah, I guess that was pretty sloppy of me to keep that glamour.”
“Why did you keep it?”
Tuyet didn’t answer. He’d kept his glamour too, so he didn’t need an answer. “Why did you fight Channing? If he’s in contact with Talbot, he’ll turn you in. You know what that means.”
Hayes nodded. “It’ll mean charges. My name on a wanted list, right next to yours. I know what it means.”
Guilt assailed her. He’d be on a wanted list all right, wanted for disobeying orders, dereliction of duty, absence without leave, aiding and abetting a fugitive. Whatever they could throw at him. If caught he could spend decades in a maximum-security military prison. There were only two ways he might avoid that: turn her in and try to make a deal as quickly as possible, or go on the run. “Why would you throw your life away like that?”
Hayes drew his eyebrows together. “How can you ask me that?”
“He could have already contacted Talbot. Already have charges filed against you.”
He blew out a frustrated breath. “I thought. Shit. Why are you freaking out because I finally did what you asked me to do three years ago? I thought you’d be happy. I thought maybe you still wanted...this.” He shot out of the chair and stalked to the minibar.
Tuyet couldn’t make sense of what he was telling her. “You said no. You wanted your life, your career. I was wrong to even ask, I know that now.”
“Mini bottles of champagne.” He leaned over and pawed through the fridge’s contents. “Mini bottles of wine, both red and white. Ooh, a mini bottle of bourbon. Think I’ll take that one.” He closed the fridge and walked around the room as he unscrewed the bottle.
They had to have this out now. Put all their cards on the table and figure out what they were going to do. It might be easier to talk about other things first, like what to do about Channing, but she needed to know why Hayes had done what he did. She needed to know if he still wanted her as much as she wanted him.
“I need you to talk to me, Dale.”
“I am talking to you. I’m also drinking. I’m talking and drinking at the same time, how about that? It’s called multitasking.” But when he reached a decorative table he slammed the bottle down, cursing as the movement knocked over a small floral arrangement.
She left the sofa to stand three feet from him, arms crossed, trying not to shake from anger. “Don’t be a petulant little dick. This is too important.”
His eyes narrowed, blazing. “Then don’t ask me questions you already know the answer to. You think I fucked up my life last night, right? That’s what you think?”
“I know you did.”
“No.” He shook his head, slashing the air with his hands. “No, what fucked up my life was me making the wrong decision three years ago. I haven’t had a life since that night. I let you walk away from me, and that is what took everything away from me. I let you go instead of arresting you because I wanted you to be safe, and happy. Thinking of you living free somewhere was what got me through every fucking miserable moment of every day for the last three years. If I couldn’t be with you and have the life I wanted for us, then at least you were free and happy. That’s what I told myself. Then I find out you’re in this shithole doing God knows what. Living in a dump. Risking arrest. Probably risking your life. I don’t know what the fuck you’re doing.” He came to her in a rush and held her face in his hands. “You’re not doing it alone anymore. From here on out, wherever you go, whatever you do, I’m right there with you. By your side. I’m never letting you go again.”
Everything she’d ever wanted was right in front of her. She should have been terrified. Racked with guilt. A touch of both emotions circled like birds of prey looking for a meal. They would find none. Exhilaration burned away everything standing between her and what she wanted. What she’d been dreaming of for years.
She rose on tiptoe to kiss him. He responded with all the eagerness she could’ve asked for. The passion and fervor reserved for Mr. and Mrs. Jones, under cover of lies and public settings, now exploded between Tuyet and Dale, in privacy, and with an honesty they’d never allowed themselves before.
He placed his hands on her waist, lightly at first, then digging his fingers in and pulling her closer. She wanted to wrap herself around him and hold on tight. For the first time, she could do exactly what she wanted, and so she did, her heart pounding with joy. Draping her arms around his shoulders, she tugged him downward until he got the message and lifted her, her legs tight around his waist.
Ravenous kisses. Drowning in the taste of him. The feel of his hands on her body shifted something inside that she hadn’t even known was there. Opened up a part of her that might have forever stayed locked, if not for him.
They stumbled into the table, his mini bottle of bourbon toppling over and spilling on the thick carpet. The smell of the liquor added a smoky-sweet top note to the earthy, sensual blend of roses and his sandalwood cologne. He maneuvered them into the wall, her back hitting the surface hard.
“Mr. Jones” knew every sensitive spot on her neck and throat. Now Hayes used that intelligence to devastating effect. Scraping with his whiskers, nibbling with lips and teeth. He braced her against the wall with his body and pinned her hands above her head by the wrists. She knew no incantation that would melt their clothes to nothing and for that she hated magic in that moment.
Hayes let go of her wrists and framed her face with his hands. Eyes half-closed, he whispered her name before he kissed her again. This time slow, deliberate. Maddening. Her body screamed for more. After so many years of denial, she didn’t want sweet and tender. She wanted hard and fast and blazing hot. But he had other ideas and she couldn’t deny him anything anymore. His fingers skated up her torso as he pulled up her shirt, breaking the kiss only long enough to remove it. She worked her hands between their bodies to unfasten her pants. They tangled at her feet.
Hayes kissed a path downward. Her collarbone. One breast, then the other. Her ribs, the plane of her stomach. He tugged her panties down and pressed a kiss to her mons, then quickly freed her from her clothes.
He picked her up and carried her to the bed, laying her on it with a gentleness that nearly brought a sob to her throat. The look of reverence on his face undid her. His name fell from her lips in a soft cry. He stripped quickly and climbed onto the bed, his blue eyes dark with desire.
Magic rolled through Tuyet in a smooth wave. She directed it outward, turning off the lights and leaving blooms of red witchlight as the only illumination. He settled himself atop her carefully, bracing himself on his arms. She curled one leg around his and drew him closer. They fit together so perfectly, every valley and bend carved as if meant to interlock.
“There’s so much I want to say to you,” he whispered.
“For now, just show me.”
Hayes showed her everything she’d been longing to hear for years. With a devouring kiss he told her how much he’d longed for her, as well. When he encircled her wrists hard enough to hurt and ground himself against her, a growl in the
back of his throat, she felt the dark edge of years of frustration. His lips and tongue on first one nipple, then the other, spoke of pleasure made of sweetness. The sharp bite of his teeth made a dark promise that brought a gasp from her. The scrape of his whiskers on the delicate skin of her inner thighs was a whispered secret. His fingertips on the backs of her knees found an unexpected erogenous zone, the twist of her body and catch of her breath raising a smile on his face.
His mad search for a condom, tossing aside clothes as he tore through his suitcase, was a gift of laughter.
A furnace blazed in his eyes as he held himself above her. She’d never felt such joy as when she welcomed him into her body, never known such bliss as the feel of him moving inside her.
Tuyet reveled in every unspoken message. There was truth there, deeper and more real than any words. Her heart had felt that truth for years but now the rest of her could accept it, trust it. Hayes loved her. With all his heart, Dale Hayes loved her.
Chapter Seventeen
They were on their third night and third hotel, this one in the grungiest part of Rockenbach and the worst yet. The hot water didn’t work, the walls were paper thin, and the narrow twin bed was full of lumps. Hayes’s cash reserves were almost depleted and he was on a most-wanted list. The rest of his life would be spent in hiding, to one degree or another.
He’d never been happier.
He tuned the room’s small TV to a music station. “Dance with me.”
It took Tuyet a moment to answer. “I want this done before Vadim gets here. But you go ahead.” She gave him a smile and went back to work. An electric blue glow surrounded both her and the phone that rested in front of her on the bed.
“It’s not as much fun without you.” He sank into the room’s lone rickety chair, unnerved by the creaking noise it made as his weight settled. The floor might be safer. “So do I get to keep the blue hair? I kinda like it.” He brushed a hand through his newly dyed dark blue hair.
