Fire's Touch (The Enlightened Species Book Three)

by Hales, Wendy S.

  His sad sigh along with the gentle glow of his eyes was all the response she needed. Cassie’s eyes became trapped, staring at his lips as his tongue peeked out to moisten them. She’d never wanted anything as desperately as she wanted to kiss him that moment. Hans leaned till their lips were nearly touching; a single kiss would mate them forever. “There is much we can do without exchanging fluids—”

  Cassie lifted a finger to his lips, cutting him off. His lips felt soft, warm. His breath tickled her hand. She stifled a moan. He didn’t need to say anything; she too had thought of every physical possibility that didn’t involve the exchange of body fluids. It wasn’t right. Could not happen. Wasn’t fair to her, Hans, Mattie, or their colonies. Nor would she allow Hans to risk his honor … she’d had a long time to consider things. Allowing things between them to develop would be a mistake. She knew that now.

  Meg rolled over. “I’ll cover Johnny’s care, but if you don’t go with him, I am.” She rolled back to face the wall.

  Cassie swallowed hard. “I know how you feel about me, but Hans, I don’t feel that way about you and I don’t want to lead you on or encourage your feelings.” She could feel the fires of hell licking her soul for that blatant lie. The raw hurt in Hans’s eyes as he blinked a film of moisture away drove a stake through her heart.

  “I won’t deny my love for you, Cassie. That doesn’t mean I will act on that love. We both know full well the situation. Just forget I ever said I love you and let me be your friend again.”

  How was she supposed to say no to that? “Like when we were kids, okay?”

  Hans gave her a playful smile that didn’t reach his eyes before he threw her over his shoulder fireman-style and marched out of the room, the house, across the campus, and through the door to a studio flat with a couch bed already pulled out and made. He tossed her unceremoniously into the center of the mattress. “Incoming!” he shouted, diving to the spot next to her. Cassie laughed. He used to do the same thing when they were kids playing dog pile. This is how things had to be.

  ****

  Stacey woke to the feel of Conlon wrapped around her from behind. His steady breathing caused one of her curls to tickle her cheek with each exhale. Being cocooned in his warmth filled her with so much contentment, she hated to move. She felt happy, hopeful, excited to turn a new leaf.

  The sound of Johnny’s giggles and Meg’s muted voice teasing her son got her moving. She slipped from Conlon’s arms, careful not to disturb him. She’d slept on the flight the day before, and he … hadn’t slept at all. She tiptoed to the bag she’d torn into last night, thankful to find a pair of shorts and a tank top, and dressed quickly. Her camera bag peeked out temptingly. Conlon had rolled to his back with one leg straight the other bent slightly. His partially erect manhood nearly reached his belly button. A defined six-pack on his abdomen and perfect chest cut deeply to display his thick shoulder and arm muscles were further emphasized by one arm thrown over his face.

  She wished she had time to paint a portrait. Instead she peered through her camera lens and snapped a few shots. Yummy. Stacey tucked it away and ducked from the room when Conlon moved.

  Meg’s face become somber and her body rigid when Stacey walked into the kitchen. Stacey slipped into the kitchen chair beside her son’s highchair. He had oatmeal spread across both hands, on his face, and even in his hair. Meg set a cup of coffee in front of Stacey without a word and turned to leave the kitchen.

  “Stay,” Stacey said to her. Meg stopped, her shoulders squared, but she didn’t turn to face Stacey. Then it occurred to Stacey why. She’d just ordered Meg like a dog. “I meant … will you join me for a cup of coffee, Meg?”

  Meg glanced back with curious suspicion. “Why?”

  Stacey tried to think if she’d ever had a single conversation with the Heredity human she trusted with her son completely. None came to mind. “So we can talk.”

  The expression intensified. “About what? Are you going to fire me?”

  Stacey shook her head and went to the cupboards to search for a coffee cup. She poured a second cup and set it at the seat across from her, placing Johnny between them at the head of the table. Meg sighed long and slid into the chair. “So…” Stacey had zero idea what to say. “What do you think of Mesa?”

  Meg wrapped her hands around the coffee mug and shrugged. “It’s nice.”

  “Are you comfortable in your new room?”

  Meg grinned slightly and then paled. “Why do you ask?”

  Because I have no fucking clue what to say, Stacey screamed in her mind. “You aren’t used to sharing. What if Cassie snores?”

  Meg’s face broke into a true smile. The girl was pretty, Stacey realized; she had a simple beauty easily missed if you didn’t look. Of course, this was the first time Stacey had really looked. “I wouldn’t know if she snores.”

  Stacey felt her own grin creep in. “Why’s that?” She gave Meg a conspirator’s secret tone of voice.

  Meg bit the side of her lip. “You won’t get mad, will you?” Her eyes flitted toward Johnny, who slapped his hands gleefully into the oatmeal mess he’d made.

  “I won’t get mad.”

  Meg let out a relieved breath. “She went with Hans … as friends.” She went on to share the details she’d overheard. Then she told Stacey about her disaster of a date with one of the Aquatie guards in Seattle. It was like Stacey had ruptured a dam in the girl. The camaraderie made Stacey uncomfortable at first. But it was time to turn over a new leaf, Stacey reminded herself. She listened intently and tried to ask the right questions, and Meg relaxed around her.

  Conlon stepped into the kitchen wearing only a pair of black pajama bottoms with Tasmanian devils printed on them. His hair stood wild, stubble dusted his chin, and a sexy smirk graced his face. Stacey’s mouth immediately watered for a taste of him. “Morning.” The morning huskiness of his voice sent a shiver through her.

  “Good morning.” Meg’s eyed him like a piece of candy as he opened the fridge to withdraw a pint of blood. His muscles rippled when he reached for a coffee mug and a water goblet.

  Stacey looked over at Meg, who mouthed, “Oh my God,” and fanned herself with her hand. Stacey snort laughed. She liked Meg. Who knew? Stacey gave a nod of agreement to Meg. “What are you ladies talking about?” Conlon sat next to her, pouring blood into the glass before taking a sip of his coffee.

  “How completely moronic males are?” Stacey answered. Meg hid her smile behind her coffee cup. Johnny’s dente’s had slid into his mouth with the scent of the blood Conlon had opened. Stacey offered Johnny her wrist. His dentes punctured her vein while oatmeal coated her wrist from his dirty face. “I should have cleaned you up first, huh, Baby Boy.”

  “You’re Meg, right?” Conlon asked dumbstruck Meg and received only a nod in response. “Conlon.”

  He extended his hand to shake the nanny’s. Stacey noticed Meg’s hand shook slightly but the girl managed a decent handshake. Conlon leaned over her and rubbed Johnny’s oatmeal mined hair, giving her a whiff of pure male sex. Stacey felt her eyes flutter. “Lucky bugger, drinking from the tap.” He gave Stacey an inviting look.

  “Um. I think I’ll go look around. I have my cell phone.” Meg excused herself.

  Conlon downed the blood using the coffee like a chaser, his nose curled in distaste. Why? “Maybe you should have heated it up first,” she teased.

  Conlon’s gaze landed at the throb of her throat then returned to her face. “Maybe I should have snagged one of Johnny’s private pile in there. You spoiled me in Amsterdam, remember?”

  Johnny broke from her wrist and slammed both his hands back into the oatmeal slick covering the high chair’s tray. His blood-coated lips curled into a self-satisfied smile at the mess he was making. Stacey laughed. “Pretty darn proud of yourself, aren’t you?”

  Conlon pushed his chair back and stood. Stacey looked at the expression of deep meaning on his face when he met her gaze. “Fates, you’re beautiful when you look a
t him,” he whispered and leaned over to press a kiss to Stacey’s startled lips before he lifted Johnny from his breakfast fiasco, completely oblivious to the oatmeal that transferred from Johnny to his chest. Conlon had a natural way with Johnny. Stacey guessed he probably was natural with all children. “You want to play in the water?” Conlon asked Johnny, who pressed oatmeal-covered palms to Conlon’s cheeks and bounced in his arms. Like mirroring mischief-makers, Johnny and Conlon blew her a kiss. “Yep, little buddy, we need a shower.” With that, her boys left with a purpose.

  Stacey glanced around. Did Conlon have a housekeeper? She sighed and cleaned up the kitchen. Sort of. She reached the top of the stairs in time to see her naked son toddling from the master bedroom into his nursery. Conlon trailed behind, a towel wrapped around his waist and an amused grin on his face.

  “You know you share a house with three females now, right?”

  The front of the towel started to lift when his gaze met hers. “Yep, that’s why I put on a towel.”

  Stacey wrapped her arms around his waist. The towel tent grew. “I’ll get him dressed. How about you run me a bath.”

  Conlon rubbed her back lightly. “I think we used all the hot water.”

  Stacey laughed; she’d done that a lot since meeting Conlon. “I think I can heat it up.”

  Conlon chuckled and his lips found the curve of her neck. “In more ways than one.” Fully engorged now, his erection twitched against her stomach as he drew in her scent and ducked back into the master suite.

  Stacey had just finished dressing Johnny when Cassie showed up. “Sorry I’m late.” She didn’t sound sorry, she sounded … sad.

  Stacey held Johnny on her hip. “Well? What happened?”

  Cassie blushed, taking Johnny from Stacey. “Nothing. I fell asleep with his shoulder as a pillow.”

  “That’s it?”

  Cassie nodded, her expression bleak. “That’s more than I should have let happen.” Her friend’s reaction confused Stacey. With Johnny’s intelligent gaze traveling between them, Stacey didn’t push for more information. “Hans was summoned back to his colony this morning. It’s probably for the best.” A sad resignation resounded in Cassie’s voice.

  “We should talk later.” Stacey didn’t understand, but she wanted to. “BFF style.”

  Cassie gave her a confused expression that quickly morphed into a smile. “Finally. About damn time you admitted it. There’s a playground on the backside of the campus. Johnny loves it. Meet me there later?”

  Stacey nodded to her friend, and Cassie and Johnny left. A ripple of excitement fluttered in her stomach when she stepped into the bathroom. Conlon, barefoot in jeans and a white T-shirt, was on the floor mopping up puddles with a towel. A tub full of water waited for her. Stacey focused her ability at the water while her eyes were riveted to the male cleaning up after her son without a word of complaint. Steam rose from the surface of the water within seconds.

  “You’re getting good at that.” Conlon never looked up when he spoke. Stacey thought he might not have realized she was there. Stacey stripped and sunk into the water. That caught Conlon’s attention, she noticed with a smile.

  “You’re really good with him.” Stacey closed her eyes and let the heat of the water soother her.

  “I have two younger brothers. I like kids.” Conlon had taken the position of sitting against the wall like he did last night.

  “So there are three boys?”

  “Four. Gregor is the oldest, then me, then Miguel, then Shane,” Conlon stated simply then … silence. They really were two peas in a pod. Neither of them ever talked about personal things. That much was obvious.

  “And?” Stacey prompted. She peeked at him. He held his head in his hands with his elbows balanced on his knees.

  “You’ve already met Shane and his bloodmate, Jess. Gregor bloodmated a warrior named Teja; they have a daughter named Irsu who’s a century younger than Shane. Irsu’s daughter, Jerika, is Shane’s protégé. Both my niece and grandniece live here, so you’ll get a chance to meet them. Gregor and Teja live in Alaska. Miguel is a pre-cog/Oracle; he and his life partner, Gary, live in Greenland.” Conlon seemed to relax as the words started flowing.

  “So other than Miguel, everyone in your entire family is a warrior?” Stacey loved the sound of his voice.

  “Yep, our mother had her hands full.” There was sadness in his voice. “My father was killed by a Morsdente nearly five hundred years ago; my mother followed him to the hereafter.”

  Stacey digested that. Hereafter. She’d heard the phrase, but the concept still felt foreign. “How old are you?” Not that it mattered much to Volaticus.

  Conlon rose and handed her a bottle of shampoo and conditioner. “Sixteen hundred and sixty nine.”

  Stacey almost dropped the bottles. “Seriously?”

  Conlon grinned and nodded. “Your reaction comes from being raised human. I’m not that old. How many of the ancients have you met?”

  Stacey thought about it while she washed and conditioned her hair. “Well, I just met Eros. I don’t know. How can you tell the difference?”

  “Oh, you’ll know as soon as you spend any time around one.” He chuckled. “The ones you’ll see the most are Eros, Innanna the Presiding Oracle, and Herme the High Ones Panel healer, who was here last night, although we never found out why.”

  “He was the one who was with … Mick, right?” It felt so weird to say the name of the male from so long ago. Weird to even know his name.

  Conlon narrowed his eyes when Stacey said Mick’s name. “Your reaction to him seemed … odd.”

  Odd was an understatement. Stacey pulled the plug on the drain and took the towel that Conlon handed her to wrap up her hair. She dried her body by heating it till the water steamed away. “How much do you really want to know about my time in the breeding lab?”

  “Mick was at the breeding compound? You knew him personally while you were there?” Conlon’s fists balled at his sides with anger. Why? Stacey nodded, confused about Conlon’s reaction. It wasn’t like he didn’t know where she’d been. “That might explain all the threats against you. Tell me all of it.”

  “Why would that explain the threats?”

  Conlon gritted his teeth. “Because Mick is Osiris’s son. Since Mick defected to the SOSC, Osiris has gone to great extremes to destroy the kid. What was your level of contact with him?”

  Holy freaking henna, Mick was Osiris’s son! Stacey swallowed the lump of fear that rose in her throat. “A lot. He was assigned to me during my Becoming. I thought he was Johnny’s father until the healers told me Hulven males are sterile.”

  “Mick!” Conlon yanked open the bathroom door with a fury. The tangible aura of murderous rage confused the shit out of her.

  Stacey dashed past him, reaching the bedroom first and placing herself between him and the bedroom door. A feral growl emitted from his throat and his dentes erupted fully. In full, fierce warrior mode, Conlon looked the deadly predator of his true nature. Primal … erotic. Stacey blocked his path. “Why are you being a jackass?”

  “Mick raped you!”

  Stacey stood her ground, barring him from leaving the bedroom and meeting Conlon's misplaced rage head on. She placed a gentle restraining hand on his chest until Conlon tried to shove her out of his way. Oh, hell no! Heat caused her hands to shimmer when she shoved him back, adding kinetic energy to the impact, leaving his T-shirt smoldering. She pushed him closer to the bed. The fury of Conlon’s gaze never left her face as he released a roar of frustration that shook the walls. It took every effort not to cover her ears as his frustration bounced against the walls. Stacey had never heard anything like it. It should have been terrifying, yet the female part of her found it way too stimulating.

  She stepped into his chest despite the threatening look on his face. “He didn't—”

  Conlon interrupted, defiantly meeting her gaze. “I'll kill the bastard,” he bellowed, trying to step around her.

  H
e was beyond listening to reason. Stacey reached up and placed her hands to his cheeks. “Listen to me or I’m going to burn you again. And then give you the silent treatment for the rest of your life.” Conlon clenched his jaw and crossed his defined arms over the smoking spots on his shirt. “I’m serious, Conlon. No making love and real conversations.” At least he gave her a single nod, indicating he would listen.

  Now she scrambled with where to begin. One thing she was sure of … his stiffness would not do. Using her eyes to dare him, she wrapped her arms around his waist. He gave her a look of surprise and placed his hands gently to her hips. She could think of far better things she'd like to do to him rather than talk, especially about this subject. “Conlon, I wasn't raped … not by Mick. We had sex, but it wasn’t rape. Far from it, actually. I don’t remember being raped by anyone. I figured someone had raped me only because the healers told me Mick couldn't be Johnny's father, not because I remember being with anyone else.” Stacey saw a flash of jealousy in Conlon’s eyes. Much as she’d like to spare Conlon’s feeling she had to tell him the truth. Mick didn't deserve Conlon’s anger.

  “When I started Becoming, a male sat with me during it. He was … nice. I felt attracted to him. He told me what was happening to me, even shared his personal experience of Becoming. He told me about being Volaticus, about the Tellus and Aquatie, too. His job was to let the leader know if and when I went into estrus so they could breed me. He was honest about it. I was prepared when it finally hit. But he didn’t tell them; he stayed with me, eased it for me, and held me when I slept. He told me my estrus only lasted a few hours. I don’t remember anyone else ever entering my cell. I didn't know his name and I never thought I'd see him again until Mick walked up to us yesterday.”

  “He took advantage of you while you were in estrus. That is still considered rape, Stacey. Rapist weren’t given clemency.” Conlon's anger hadn't cooled in the least. Stacey could feel her internal temperature rise also. The windows were beginning to fog. Conlon's hands were turning red at her hips.