But nothing worked—not thoughts of duty, or Dame Judith, or even the waves of disapproval coming from Sandor. The sweet torment of holding her would end shortly, so he gave in and allowed himself to enjoy it. Wrapping his arms around her even more tightly, he cupped her neck with his hand to trace the pattern of nerves that were concentrated along the spine. He brushed his thumb back and forth in time to the music, sending small pulses of hot energy from his body into hers.
Kerry moaned softly, clearly enjoying the soft friction as well as the small buzz the sensation gave her. She snuggled in closer, looking up at him with a siren's smile and smoky heat in her eyes. He wasn't the only one enjoying the dance more than he should.
Once again the music changed, this time to a fast Latin beat. Shifting his hold, Ranulf led Kerry right into a salsa. She laughed with delight and followed his steps as if they'd been dance partners for years.
With a flick of his wrist, he spun her out and then back into his waiting arms. Dipping her over bis arm, he was caught by her gaze, locked on his mouth as if she was thinking about kissing him.
Should he give in to the temptation? Hell, yeah. He pulled her upright, twirled her in close, then leaned down to claim her lips.
Her eyes flared wide, then drifted shut as she opened her mouth to invite him in. Their tongues touched and tasted in a rush of bright, clear energy that lit up his soul. If he wasn't careful, he'd drag her out into the night to find someplace private to finish what they'd begun.
Before matters could get out of hand, he spun her out again, letting the music lead them through a series of intricate turns. He grinned down at her, enjoying himself more than he'd thought possible. It wasn't just the sensuous movement of the dance or the kiss but also knowing that for a few minutes, he'd chased the shadows from her eyes.
The dance left them both a little breathless, and the DJ played another slow number next. He should step away and politely thank her for the dance, but he couldn't let go of her. If Kerry-needed to dance to find balance, who was he to deny her?
Unfortunately, his pleasure lasted only a minute. He ignored the first sharp tap on his shoulder; the second one irritated the hell out of him. When Sandor tried it a third time, Ranulf growled, "Go away, Sandor."
Sander's voice was low but insistent. "Fin cutting in."
"No, you're not." Ranulf spun Kerry around and turned his back to Sandor. Had the selfish bastard forgotten how long he'd had Kerry to himself on the dance floor?
Kerry planted her feet and glared up at him. "Is this a slow dance or a race?"
He looked around and realized that he'd all but dragged her halfway across the floor. "I'm sorry," he apologized as he slowed down to a rhythm more suitable to the music.
Unfortunately, Sandor had followed them. Ranulf was about to rip into him again when Kerry said, "Sandor, if there's one thing I hate, it's a possessive man. I came here with you, but you don't own me. Go sit down or leave. The caveman tactics don't work with me."
"Yeah, Sandor, go sit down like a good little boy," Ranulf sneered.
Kerry jerked free and glared at them. "That's it! Both of you go sit down. I'll be back when I'm good and ready."
She stalked off, leaving both of them staring after her and feeling stupid. She was headed straight for the ladies' room, and Ranulf knew that if she caught either one of them hovering by the door when she came out, there would be hell to pay.
Ranulf retreated to their table and took a swig of his beer. Sandor joined him after a few seconds, taking the seat in the middle if Kerry returned. From what Ranulf had seen of her so far, she was just as likely to pick another table or even try to leave without their seeing her.
But he had her energy signature now. He could sense her presence over short distances, and the ability would increase as they spent more time together.
Right now Kerry was still inside the restroom. Judging by the taste of her energy, she was still mad at them and having a hard time deciding what to do about it. There was a touch of fear in her aura that might keep her from rushing off into the night. She clearly didn't like her independence being curtailed by the very real possibility that Bradan might be waiting for her outside the club.
Suddenly she was on the move, slinking out of the restroom on the far side of a group of women who'd had enough to drink to not notice that their numbers had increased by one. Where was she going? He glanced toward Sandor, who didn't seem to be aware that their charge was on the move.
Ranulf drained his beer and stood up. "She's leaving."
Sandor's head jerked around, his eyes narrowing as he searched the crowd. When he spotted Kerry nearing the exit, he cursed and started for her.
Ranulf caught his arm. "She's already mad. If we both chase her down, she's likely to explode. I'll meet you at her apartment."
Sandor shook his arm free. "If you hadn't crowded her—"
"By the gods, Sandor, grow up! Go after her. Use that endless charm of yours to calm her down. I'll get to the apartment ahead of you, in case Bradan's waiting there."
Sandor started after Kerry and Ranulf soon followed, kicking himself for letting Sandor be the one to take her home.
The cool air outside went a long way toward soothing Kerry's temper. It was foolish to charge off alone, but for the first time in days she felt more like herself, temper and all. At that moment, she wasn't sure if she was madder at Sandor or at Ranulf.
She decided it was pretty much equal. Sandor had had no right to try to run Ranulf off. Those few minutes in his arms had been the most soothing ones she'd felt since the night of the fire. In Ranulf's arms, she'd felt safe and warm and desirable.
The look on his face when she'd beckoned him to join her on the dance floor had been a hoot, though, as if she'd been a dentist with a dull drill in her hand. She didn't know why she'd coaxed him into dancing, since she usually avoided slow dances. With Ranulf, though, it had been intimate rather than invasive.
Her good mood restored, she turned back to the club and saw Sandor a few steps behind her. He stayed where he was, as if pretty sure he wasn't welcome. When she didn't immediately bite his head off, he came closer.
"I was out of line," he said, although the reluctance in his tone made it a pretty suck-worthy apology.
"Yes, you were." Crossing her arms over her chest, she prepared to wait him out.
Finally, he gave her a rueful grin. "All right, I was a jerk, and I'm sorry."
She looked past him, but the sidewalk was empty. "Where's your friend?"
Some of his good humor disappeared. "He's not my friend."
Having watched the two of them together, that was probably true. "But you knew him. Before tonight, I mean."
Sandor's dark eyes slid to the side, as if he'd been considering how much of a lie he could get by with. "We've met."
She couldn't help it: she giggled. Saying he and Ranulf had met was like claiming the Union and the Confederacy had had a mild disagreement. "You want to try that again, Sandor?"
He paused. "You're right. Ranulf and I know each other through our job. And you can trust me, even though it was no accident that I met you. It's time we had a talk, but right now we've got to get you safely home. We're too exposed out here on the sidewalk."
Since she'd been feeling the same way, she agreed. But what did he think they needed to talk about?
After parking his car in front of her apartment, Sandor followed her to the door. "Come on in. Would you like tea or coffee?" she asked as she pushed open the door.
"Tea. Herbal, if you have any." Looking tired, he dropped onto the couch.
She put the kettle on to boil while she rooted through the cabinets for tea, then pulled out cups, the sugar bowl, and a box of cookies.
As she waited for the water to boil, she looked into the living room to see why Sandor was being so quiet. He'd fallen asleep with his head tipped back, and he was snoring softly. When the kettle started to whistle she hurriedly took it off the heat, not wanting to wake him.
She picked an afghan off the back of her rocker and gently tucked it around him. Then she set her tea on her desk and booted up her computer.
Before she could settle in, something stirred outside. She stared at the door, trying to decide what had caught her attention. It hadn't been a noise as much as a feeling that someone was there. Yet she wasn't afraid. Why was that?
Ranulf.
He was close by, though she had no idea how she knew that. Curious, she peeked out the window beside the door. It took her a minute to spot him in a cluster of trees across the street, his body looking only slightly more solid than the surrounding shadows. A light drizzle had started falling, and the combination of being chilly and wet had to be miserable.
What was he doing out there?
Then it hit her: he was standing guard, protecting her. But couldn't he do that better from inside the apartment? Rather than think too hard about why she wanted him closer, she threw open the door and motioned for him to join her. He hung back, apparently reluctant to come inside.
She started down the stairs, prepared to drag him into the apartment if necessary. Before she reached the bottom step he was moving toward her, so she stopped and waited for him.
He wasn't happy. "What are you doing out here? Haven't you got a lick of sense?"
"I'm not the one who doesn't want to come in out of the rain." She gave him an impudent smile. "Come inside before we're both soaked to the bone."
He glared down at her, considering his options, then followed her up the steps. "Where's Sandor?"
She put her finger in front of her mouth and pointed toward the couch. "Shhh. He's asleep."
Ranulf shook his head. "Fine guard dog he turned out to be."
"Leave him alone. He must be exhausted to fall asleep like that, although I suspect he didn't really want to talk, anyway." She led the way into the kitchen and motioned for Ranulf to sit at the table. She fixed him a cup of tea and pushed a plate of cookies toward him.
He immediately picked up a handful. "What were you going to talk about?"
Kerry lifted her cup of tea and blew on it. After risking a sip, she set it back down. "I don't really know, but it sounded important. Maybe he's going to tell me all about the two of you."
If she'd expected to get a reaction out of him, she was disappointed. He simply shrugged and ate another cookie. Interesting. She sensed that on some level the two men were rivals, but Ranulf showed no interest in being the one to fill her in on the details. She changed tactics.
"So why were you hanging around outside my apartment?"
"Don't act coy, Kerry. You might not want a bodyguard, but you've got one. I've already told you that the arsonist isn't clone playing his vicious little games. He's already killed that arson investigator. You're likely next on his list."
His matter-of-fact statement sent shivers straight through her. "Was there anyone else watching my apartment?"
"If he'd been here, the rain erased any trace of his… presence."
"You could tell that in the dark?" she asked, letting her disbelief show.
"How did you know I was outside?"
The abrupt change of subject confused her. "I must have heard something," she responded. "Maybe your footsteps when you got here." That didn't really ring true, but she couldn't think of any other explanation.
"That would make sense, except for one thing. I was already in place when you got home, so you couldn't have heard me arrive."
Then he got up and walked out of the kitchen, leaving her staring at his back.
The whole night had left Ranulf feeling on edge. If he didn't put some distance between them, he was likely to do something they'd both regret. Like rail at her for opening the door and waving at him without considering who else might be watching. Or rant at her for tucking Sandor in like a baby on her couch, when the stupid bastard was supposed to be protecting her.
Worse yet, he might give in to the temptation to yank her back into his arms and kiss her senseless. That would complicate an already difficult assignment—not to mention the fact that she'd likely tear a strip off his hide. Unexpectedly, the thought lightened his mood considerably. Kerry Logan was certainly no hothouse flower.
In fact, she reminded him of Judith back in the day. His Dame was a small woman, too, yet a force to be reckoned with from the day he'd met her. Neither of them had seen their twentieth birthday when they'd first crossed paths, but that hadn't meant much back then.
He'd been taken prisoner on a raid, along with the few other survivors from his village. The pain of seeing his family dead had turned him into a berserker. During the ensuing battle, his enemies had seen him fighting barehanded, using his energy to hold them at bay. They'd immediately attacked him en masse, overwhelming him with sheer numbers. In minutes they'd had him trussed up, ready to provide the evening's entertainment. His back still carried the scars from the fiery brands they'd used to get the ball rolling.
He'd been praying for a chance to fight his way into Valhalla when a little slip of a woman had arrived with a single warrior at her side. With sheer force of will, she'd ordered his captors to free him into her custody. In return for saving his life, she'd demanded his allegiance, glaring up at him with the regal bearing of her birthright.
He had a feeling that Kerry and Judith would get along famously, but he wasn't sure that the world was ready for the two of them to join forces.
What should he be doing now? After considering his options, he settled for the one that brought him the most pleasure. Crossing over to the couch, he kicked Sandor's feet off the coffee table with enough force to jar the idiot awake. The Talion came up sputtering and ready to fight.
Ranulf stepped back, giving Sandor time to wake up completely. It didn't take long for him to get back to glaring at Ranulf.
"You could have just said my name." He stretched his arms over his head.
"I could have, but I doubt Bradan would have been so polite before he killed you and then Kerry." Ranulf kept his angry voice low. Until Sandor explained everything to her, Ranulf didn't want Kerry to know that they had inside information about the arsonist.
Sandor looked chagrined. "You're right, I shouldn't have fallen asleep." Then he frowned. "What are you doing here? I thought you were going to keep watch outside."
"That's exactly what I was doing—until Kerry opened the front door, looked straight at me, and waved me in. I would have ignored her, but she was coming down the steps. Besides, I needed to know what happened to you."
He reached for his coat. "It will be dawn soon, so Judith will be expecting a report. Do you want to do it, or shall I? She'll want to know how—" He shut up when he felt Kerry walk up beside him.
"Who's Judith?" Kerry watched them both as she sipped tea out of a big red cup covered with cats.
"Have fun." Ranulf met Sandor's gaze and shrugged. "I'm out of here."
Kerry caught his arm. "Oh, no you don't, big boy. Sandor already admitted that you two knew each other long before you showed up on my doorstep. He promised me details, and I might want some answers from you, too."
No way he'd stick around for this little session. Kerry's whole world was about to come crashing down. Either she would accept what Sandor had to say or she wouldn't. Most newly discovered Kyths were relieved to find answers for why they weren't like other humans. Once they learned how to handle their energy needs safely—and a surprising number of them had already made some pretty creative adaptations—they went on to live fairly normal lives.
A small number had a hard time adjusting.
Being other than purely human came as a shock, especially to those who weren't open to new ideas or alternative life choices. Neither of those would be problems for Kerry Logan.
The real reason Ranulf wanted to leave was that he didn't want to be there when Sandor explained what Ranulf was. And he would, because Sandor would feel it was his duty to warn her. Right now Kerry trusted Ranulf on some level, but how would she react when she found o
ut that his job was to kill his own kind? If she ever had occasion to see him in action, she might run in terror. The idea of that hurt far more than he expected.
He gently pried her hand off his arm. "Sorry, but I'm out of here. I'll be back to relieve Sandor after I've gotten some rest."
She followed him to the door. "Promise you'll be back?"
He nodded. "Expect me around sundown. Sooner if you need me."
"All right." She stepped out onto the porch after him. Since he stood two steps down, they were almost eye to eye. "What would you like for dinner?"
Anything, as long as you're dessert. A surge of energy burned along his fingertips. "You don't have to cook for me."
"But I do have to eat, and it's just as easy to cook for two," she replied, tipping her head to one side with a teasing smile.
He needed to get away while he could still make himself leave. "You choose and I'll eat it."
"Okay, liver with creamed canned spinach—my favorite." She ruined the threat by giggling.
"I said I would eat it, but I didn't promise to like it." When was the last time an attractive woman had dared to tease him? Maybe never? He could have spent the rest of the day staring into the sweet heat of her dark eyes.
Was she actually leaning toward him? Was she crazy? Even though they'd shared a couple of beers and slow dances, she didn't know him well enough to think about kissing him again.
And if she didn't know better, he definitely did. She had enough of a shock waiting for her once San dor explained things, without finding out that she'd kissed the one Kyth that the rest of their kind loathed or feared.
Yet all of his good intentions didn't keep him from swaying toward her, watching her eyes drift shut as she waited for him to get on with kissing her. They both wanted it, they were both adults, and at least one of them was an absolute fool.
Then the apartment door swung open with a shade too much force as Kerry's white knight came charging out onto the porch to rescue her from the evil barbarian. Ranulf managed to back down another couple of steps in time to keep Sandor from seeing how close they'd come to kissing. Though it was for the best, that didn't keep him from wanting to strangle the interfering Talion.
Dark Warrior Page 8
