Renegade

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Renegade Page 19

by Nancy Northcott


  Val smiled. “You sound just like you used to when you told us how to test weapons capabilities.”

  “Old habits.” His face softened, but he frowned. “If someone had offered me a link like this, I would’ve turned it down. I’m surprised it doesn’t bother me, that I actually like the idea. If it bothers you, we’ll focus on blocking it.”

  “Uh-uh. No way. Like you said, it can be useful.” Hesitantly, watching him, she added, “Besides, I like being close to you this way.”

  His smile lit his eyes. “Me, too.” He nibbled her lower lip.

  Desire spiked downward from the contact. Val sighed, sliding her arms around him, and he deepened the kiss.

  Griff’s phone rang. He lifted his head and swallowed a roar of frustration. “Shit. Somebody’s timing sucks.”

  “But you need to take it.” For them both, duty came first.

  When he answered her with a rueful look, she suggested, “When you’re finished, join me in the shower?”

  “Count on it.” He watched her walk into the bathroom as he dug his phone from his jeans’ pocket and flipped it open. “Yeah.”

  She truly had a fabulous ass, toned with sweet curves. His hands still felt warm with the memory of it.

  “Your companion,” Stefan said carefully, crashing Griff back to Earth, “may be interested to know the morning’s casualties did not include Sybil Harrison. Also, one of the young deputies asked me privately if he might’ve hallucinated. He thought you and Val helped him.”

  “We did. Good that he remembers. Maybe it’ll change his views.” Though Griff wouldn’t count on it. “Somehow I doubt the rest of your news is as cheery.”

  “Only if ten dead, six critical, and five walking wounded, including Harrison, qualify as cheery. But everybody, living and not, made it home.”

  “Then it’s cheerier than it might’ve been.”

  “I guess so.” The silence seemed pregnant.

  From the bathroom came the sound of the shower running.

  At last, Griff said, “Just spit it out.”

  “Hell. There’s no way to make this any prettier. You and Banning are now officially the Bonnie and Clyde of our world. She supposedly has been your slut—their word, not mine—for years, which explains the operations that went wrong on her watch.”

  Rage ignited in Griff’s veins. His hand tightened until the phone creaked.

  “It’s amazing,” Stefan continued, “the number of studly young dudes who’re now admitting they tried to hit on her without success. Obviously, they failed because she was too busy putting out for you, the bad boy. Not, as previously assumed, because she lived for the job.”

  “Fucking bastards,” Griff spat out.

  After a moment, Stefan said, “They tried.”

  “Ha. Ha.” But the grim attempt at humor relaxed a little of the tight, angry knot in Griff’s gut. “Anything else?”

  “Will says he’s still digging, has some interesting stuff on demon portals he’ll send to your email. Lorelei says no news is good news.”

  “Thank them for me when you can. I guess your wounded must be stable if you can take a break to call me.”

  “Mostly.” Stefan hesitated. “Harrison is out for Banning’s ass, wants it in the most painful way possible.”

  “And so history repeats itself,” Griff said softly, thinking of Corin, who’d wanted Griff’s ass in the same way.

  Griff hadn’t told Valeria the whole story. Corin had tracked him down to arrest him. They’d fought, and Griff had nearly killed his friend. Desperate to avoid that, he’d agreed to surrender if he was guaranteed a chance to offer his proof, either in the obsidian seat or under ritual questioning by mages of his choice.

  Corin had died trying to get him that chance.

  “What happened to Corin wasn’t your fault,” Stefan said.

  “Still have to live with it, though.”

  They signed off. Griff frowned at the phone. The scapegoating was bad enough, but now Valeria and Harrison paralleled him and Corin in the same pattern of friendship shattered, the same road to confrontation.

  He scrubbed a hand over his face. Helping him was costing her a lot. She probably wished she’d never gotten mixed up with him or his fight.

  Chapter 17

  The knock on the bathroom door made Val jump. “Come in,” she called over the sound of the water. “You really don’t need to knock, you know.”

  The magic seethed with Griffin’s worry, doubt, and anger. Something must’ve happened, something urgent. She pulled back the flimsy, gray-white plastic curtain. “What’s wrong?”

  He walked in, still naked and scowling as though he wanted to smash something. “That was Stefan.”

  “What’s happened?”

  He climbed into the tub and pulled her close, his hold gentle despite his fierce expression. “First, Sybil Harrison was in that battle this morning.”

  “What?” Val’s heart lurched. “Is she all right?”

  “She had minor injuries. The team this morning took casualties but left no one behind.”

  “That’s something. What about the rest?”

  “Ten dead, six critical, five with minor injuries, including Harrison, but no one’s missing.”

  “Thanks.” No use asking for names. They were people to her, ones she ached for, but he wouldn’t have known many of them.

  Now that he’d delivered his news, he looked uncertain. She could feel his anger but sensed it wasn’t directed at her. “Why are you so pissed?”

  He hesitated. “That can wait. I have something important to tell you.” His grim eyes scanned her face, and he gripped her shoulders. “Harrison is blaming you. I’m sorry.”

  She needed a moment for the words to sink in around the stab of pain in her chest. Finally, she said, “From where she’s sitting, she has a right to.”

  “We’ll see that she learns the truth.” He drew her close, and she leaned into the comfort of his warm embrace. “Corin Jacobs had been my friend since we were five. He was to me what Sybil Harrison is to you. I will help you fix this somehow.”

  “We’ll fix it together.” She glanced up at his solemn face. “Things always look worse when we’re tired. Let’s take a shower, get some rest.” Val turned to grab the soap. “You’ll have to crouch for the low shower head.”

  Griffin tugged her back against him, his erection hard and warm between her buttocks as he slid his palm over them.

  “Nice,” he said, his voice husky. “Very nice.”

  His touch sent tremors of pleasure through her. Val lost the soap.

  “Yeah, about that,” she said. Steam rose around them, a tamer warmth than the inner heat from his body at her back. She wiggled free to face him and set her hands on his shoulders. “You seem to like taking charge at these moments. Now, it’s my turn and you’re going to cooperate.”

  “Am I?” A crooked grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, and his eyes lit with mischief.

  “Yes, if you want there to be more of these moments.” Smiling, she let her hands roam over the sculpted contours of his body and delighted in the hitch of his breath, the quick contractions and releases of his muscles. “I promise you’ll like it.”

  She pressed her mouth to the scars on his chest. His heart thudded against her palm.

  “Yeah,” he said hoarsely, hands gliding over her wet flesh. “I can go with that.”

  “Good.” Val closed her fingers around his hard, smooth erection. Stroking him, she trailed kisses over the soft line of hair leading down from his chest, over his taut abs and lower.

  His hands slipped into her hair, caressing. The slide of his fingers, the tiny jerks of his body, the hot craving flowing through the magic, all delighted her. Made her want more.

  On her knees, she slid her lips down the hard length of him. She would never forget the throbbing of his flesh in her hand, the knowledge she could give him such intense pleasure. She took him in her mouth, and his pleasure rocketed through them both.
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  Again, their eyes locked and the heat in his gaze made her inner muscles clench.

  “Valeria—sweet—” Warning edged his raspy voice. His eyes glazed.

  Fondling him, she moaned in acknowledgment. Griffin shuddered again. He braced one hand on the wall, gripping the curtain rod with the other. His hips jerked. He choked out her name as his release flooded her mouth.

  Val swallowed, milking him. Loving how she made him feel.

  Breathing hard, he tugged her up for a long, deep kiss. “That’s unbelievably sexy, the way you taste.”

  “Back at you.”

  He nipped her lower lip, and his arms closed around her. Long moments drifted by as they held each other in the steam.

  “I like the way that feels,” she said, “the contentment coming off you.”

  “Good, because you’re the one who caused it.” He rubbed her back with long, slow strokes, resting his cheek on her damp hair. Slowly, his body tensed.

  “Now I feel your worry.” She drew back to look at him. “What is it, Griffin?”

  He ran his knuckles down her cheek. His mind gave off wary vibes, and his face was resolute. “I care for you and I know you care for me. You’re sweet, you’re beautiful, and you’re loyal. If I have to stay in exile, I don’t want you sharing it.”

  “Not your choice.” If ever a man needed the healing power of love, this one did. Confessing her feelings would complicate a situation that was already a mass of tangles, but she couldn’t help what she was about to say.

  Taking a deep breath Val looked into his eyes. “I more than ‘care for you.’ I think I’m in love with you.”

  His face tightened. The flicker in his eyes, in the bond between them, might have been joy, but he locked his emotions down too fast for her to be sure.

  Disappointment stung, but she’d expected it. She said nothing, waiting for his response.

  After a moment, he drew a deep breath. His eyes were pained. “I can’t say what you want to hear. What you deserve to hear.”

  Can’t or won’t? she wondered, but she kept her voice even. “I didn’t ask you to. My feelings for you or yours for me, whatever they are, don’t change what we have to do.” She kissed him lightly.

  He shook his head. “You’ll be shire reeve again, and I’m still a fugitive.”

  “For now,” she agreed, “but Griffin, brave, steadfast Griffin, at heart you’re still a shire reeve, too.”

  His eyes widened in shock. She felt it break free of his pent-up emotions as the truth of her words struck home.

  “Christ,” he muttered, drawing her close again, “I can’t believe you see me that way.”

  “I would bet everyone who knows you sees you that way.”

  Her strange new connection to him betrayed the pain his face did not. And probably let him see that her heart ached for the losses that had pushed him to this point.

  She let her fingers drift along his jaw. “You carry a lot of guilt. A lot of grief. But I believe in the future, so let’s take things one day at a time, as we agreed.”

  “Fair enough.”

  And better than nothing. She slid her arm around his neck, resting against him for a long moment, cherishing the contact.

  “I should’ve waited,” he said abruptly. When she looked up, into his tormented face, he continued, “When I told you I couldn’t work within the system, I wasn’t entirely honest. I did think about it, just not until it was too late. I should’ve watched Alden, built a case. Taken my time. I might’ve avoided having to kill my deputies, losing Allie, Corin, and Sykes.”

  “Maybe. But if you had, how many more mages would Alden have betrayed to their deaths? You might be standing at the Collegium now but wishing you’d taken the bastard down.”

  “I wish I knew,” he muttered.

  “Of course you do. And we will avenge our dead.” She kissed him quickly. “We should finish this shower and get some rest.”

  “Nice word, ‘finish.’” He tweaked her hard nipples and pleasure weakened her knees.

  She clung to him to keep from falling. “That isn’t what I meant.”

  “Yeah.” He grinned at her. “Too bad your turn’s up.” Cupping her buttocks, he lifted.

  She grabbed his shoulders, locking her legs around his waist for balance, and he drove into her. His power rose, warm and tender, to meet hers and the explosion at the end hit harder and rocked them longer. In the sweet, lazy aftermath, Val rested peacefully in his arms.

  Carefully, Val lifted a slice of fully loaded pizza over her shoulder so Griffin could take a bite. Sitting between his thighs, leaning back against his warm chest while they fed each other pizza and Coke in bed was a little loony, not to mention messy if they weren’t careful. After the tension of the last few days, though, they were entitled to indulge a little.

  “Hey. Hold your hand still.” He steadied it with a light grip on her wrist and bit into the pie. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

  “You’re welcome.” She twisted to grin up at him. “You know better than to talk with your mouth full.”

  One side of that firm, luscious mouth quirked up in a smile. He swallowed and licked tomato sauce off his lip. The gesture flicked heat between her legs, and his eyes glinted as he sensed her reaction. “Caught between the requirement of a thank-you and the food-in-mouth rule. I’ll make it up to you later.”

  “Count on it.” She slid a hand along the sheet over his thigh and smiled when the muscles tensed. “For now, though, I’ll settle for some Coke, please.”

  She felt him lean sideways to grab the big cup off the nightstand. A moment later, he held it in front of her face. She reached for it, but he pulled it away.

  “Uh-uh. I have to deal with your pizza-feeding technique, you can deal with my holding your Coke.”

  She rolled her eyes. “This was your idea, remember.” But she set her hand gently on his wrist and let him tip the cup for her. When she tapped his hand, he lowered the drink.

  “You know, I never ate pizza naked before.”

  “I know how to show a woman a good time.” His palm flattened on her bare stomach and he kissed her shoulder lightly. Lips moving in a tickly, tingly caress against her neck, he murmured, “I could show you an even better time.”

  Val moved the pizza out of range and encircled his neck with her arm. “Well…”

  His phone rang. The sound knotted her gut and wiped the smile off Griffin’s face. Reluctantly, he grabbed the phone and glanced at the caller ID.

  “Will,” he said, holding it so she could hear, as he punched the button to take the call.

  “Hey,” Will said. “I have to make this fast. The weird stuff is escalating, in all the towns around the Okefenokee.”

  What weird stuff? Val asked Griffin through the mental link they’d formed.

  Reanimated animal corpses, eerie lights at night, he replied.

  Will continued, “There’s definitely a dark influence at work. Increases in domestic violence and petty crime, too, though that, as I said, could just be from a hot, humid summer.”

  Griffin exchanged a grim look with Val. “What’s Healey doing about it?”

  “He sent reserve deputies to all those towns, including Wayfarer. They’re checking out the reports, scrying for repeated or intense use of magical power, but also they’re still looking for you. You both should stay out of that area.”

  “Got it,” Griffin said, which was not the same as agreeing to stay away.

  They signed off. He lay back on the pillows and held out an arm for her. “My appetite’s gone now.”

  She settled against his side. “What can we do about this? Anything?”

  “Nothing that isn’t already being done.” He stroked her arm absently, but frowned. His mind felt distracted, and no wonder. Wayfarer was his home.

  “We’ll figure it out,” she said. “Somehow, we’ll figure it out.”

  Shortly before dawn the next morning, Val and Griffin reached the flat rock by the stream, a spot she al
ready considered theirs. They’d tested their bond earlier, found that it had a range of more than a mile. When they had time, they’d see how much farther it would reach. Now sunrise approached, and they had a dangerous scrying to perform.

  The predawn air was cool. Val kept her chilled hands in her hoodie pockets while Griffin filled his silver bowl with pure, clean water.

  Wiping the outside with the linen cloth, he nodded toward the gray eastern sky. “Sun’s rising.” He lifted his worried eyes to her face. “I wish this didn’t have to be on you.”

  He set the bowl on the rock, in line with the rising sun, and warded the rock. A chilled breeze sent ripples over the surface and tousled his hair. He shoved it back absently.

  Val shrugged despite her uneasiness. “We work with what we have.” Blood magic required blood to uncover it, and the venom in his might taint the unmasking spell. At least he accepted that he couldn’t protect her from this task.

  She pulled her silver dagger out of her belt sheath, pricked her finger, and squeezed three large drops of blood into the bowl. The droplets formed pink ripples in the clear water.

  She and Griffin turned to the horizon. Griffin uncapped the thermos, holding it ready. The purest power in nature was the first light of day. They would use it for this risky scrying.

  The golden glow of morning cast silver ripples over the stream, spreading toward the rock. When the sun cleared the horizon, its light struck the bowl. Griffin tipped a small splash of tainted coffee into the water.

  The brown liquid swirled around the blood trails. Val breathed on the water, sending power into it, and the surface took on a reddish glow. The bowl shook.

  She kept her eyes on the water, but Griffin’s hand caught hers. Strength flowed in the contact.

  The liquid in the bowl swirled. Darkened. In the center appeared a dark crystal orb that pulsed with purple-red fire. Around it drifted blackness deeper and colder than night. A stench of sulfur rose from the bowl. Her nose wrinkled.

  Griffin’s hand tightened on hers. From a great distance, he said, “Valeria. Honey.”

 

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