Stripped Away: Shadow Destroyers Book 2

by Sydney Somers

  Her trip to the station turned out to be useless. They hadn’t had any new information and said they had followed up after Quinn’s initial call, but found nothing out of the ordinary at her sister’s. She hadn’t expected otherwise. Not when the scent of Shadow Demon was bitter to her nostrils. It was the first scent she caught when she came straight here after her plane landed.

  She’d been hopeful, as slim as the odds were, that her sister would be home. Instead not only was her sister nowhere to be found, but there wasn’t any evidence of anything broken or any forced entry.

  But a hostile had been here. Recently. If a demon had stumbled upon Cass and followed her home, they would have left the body, or if there had been a sacrifice to open a gateway, there would be markings somewhere. Demons weren’t into kidnapping, and she’d certainly never crossed paths with any looking for ransom money.

  So what the hell had it been doing here?

  Her insides trembled and she had to sit down as the blood seemed to rush to her head. She had to find Cass. She was all she had left. She’d promised her parents she’d look out for her sister—that they’d look out for each other. While Cass would also technically carry the gene that was capable of letting a demon’s essence mutate her DNA, her twin had never crossed paths with one, not like Quinn had.

  Not until now.

  She continued to move through the house, heading upstairs. The same path she’d tracked a few hours ago. She stopped in her sister’s bedroom, hesitated in the doorway. Something…

  She closed her eyes to concentrate, to isolate the scent that hovered beneath the others, masked.

  Quinn studied the door, leaned in closer and sniffed. New door. New paint. She glanced at the hinges. New too.

  Had the door been the sound she’d heard on the phone, the sound of splintering wood? But why would someone go to the trouble of replacing the door or try to mask the scent of it? Maybe they hadn’t counted on her getting a hold of the phone before they grabbed her?

  Her sister had said she thought she was being followed. That could explain the new door, trying to make it look like nothing out of the ordinary had transpired. But why?

  Her head throbbed trying to guess what had taken place and what had happened to Cass. Icy fear clawed through her chest, but she forced it back and dug out her cell phone, dialing the field office.

  Jordan picked up. “You’re okay.” A sigh of relief came through the phone. “Any luck yet?”

  “No.” The word stuck in her throat.

  “How can I help?”

  “My sister thought she was being followed. I’m wondering if maybe whoever it was had been calling her too.”

  “I’ll look into it. What are the cops saying?”

  “I get the impression they think my sister is a crack pot and didn’t think there was much truth to her claims.” She took a breath, desperately trying to unravel the tension pressing down on her. “It’s worse. A hostile’s been here. Storm demon.”

  “Back up should be there in another hour or two.”

  Part of Quinn had wanted to refuse Rae’s insistence to send someone down to watch her back. Now that she knew there was demon involvement, she was glad for it. There was safety in numbers, and seeing as she didn’t fully know what she was up against, another agent was one more person to help her figure this out. Help her find her sister.

  She talked to Jordan for a few more minutes about running some background checks on some of the people her sister came into regular contact with. Quinn was at a disadvantage since her sister had only moved into the area a couple of months ago and she hadn’t been to visit Cass here yet. Even the people her sister worked with at the small boutique hadn’t been prepared for her and Quinn’s exact likeness. They hadn’t even known Cass had a twin. Cass was a bit on the shy side and didn’t volunteer much information about herself as a rule—and likely hadn’t known any of them long enough to get too close.

  Knowing she wasn’t going to learn anything else tonight and already working on no sleep in the last thirty-six hours, Quinn needed to crash. She sat on the edge of her sister’s bed and smiled at the teddy bear on the pillow. An exact match to the one she’d been given. The last gift they’d received from their father. A Valentine’s Day surprise. He’d walked into their house with a bouquet of roses for their mom and teddy bears for them.

  Presents for all his girls.

  Her throat thickened at the memory. Her parents had died three weeks later.

  Quinn stroked a finger down the bear’s face to his nose. She couldn’t lose Cass too. She kicked off her shoes and stripped off her pants then lay back on the bed. The familiar scent of her sister’s things was comforting at a time when she couldn’t remember ever feeling so alone.

  She didn’t know how much time had passed when she bolted upright, the mattress soft and warm underneath her. Another noise sounded at the back door. Someone fiddling with the lock.

  She was on her feet and down the stairs before she finally slowed her steps and bit back a curse. She leaned against the wall, waited until the door opened, then flipped on the light.

  Braxton blinked at the sudden brightness.

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Chapter Four

  Even though Braxton knew Quinn would have heard him long before he reached the house and half expected her to yank the back door open before he actually got into the kitchen, the sound of her voice jolted through him.

  His eyes adjusted to the light fixture above his head, but he wished she’d kept them in the dark. In the dark he wasn’t immediately aware of her bare legs and skimpy tank top.

  He swallowed. Goddamn, the woman was out to torture him. She was wearing a thong.

  He dropped his bag, using the distraction to cool his insides before he thought to pick her up, set her on the counter and peel off her shirt. Maybe then he could again sample the curve of her neck, trace a hot path from her mouth to her breast.

  “You’re not supposed to be here.”

  Normally the chill in her voice could be as effective as a cold shower. Not tonight. He lifted his gaze, sweeping up over her painted toes, bruised knees—one scraped from her encounter with the telepath demon—and past a small aqua triangle where he wanted to linger, but didn’t. He carried on straight up to her eyes and by the time he got there, the harsh look on her face had softened into something familiar.

  Something that sent a surge of lust rolling down his spine.

  Quinn looked away, straightening from the wall. “What happened to Drew?”

  “Rae had other plans for him.”

  “I don’t suppose you had anything to do with that?” She moved past him and snagged a bottle of water from the fridge. Even across the room he got a great view of her ass, and immediately backed up.

  “You just get in?”

  “Yeah.”

  She took a swig of her water. “Check in at a hotel yet?”

  He shook his head.

  “The phone is there in case you want to call ahead and reserve a room.” She disappeared down the short hallway.

  Braxton stood where he was and contemplated doing exactly that. Her footfalls sounded on the stairs.

  Call a cab. Go. Forget that she was only wearing…

  He followed her up the stairs. Only one room spilled light out into the hall and he followed it to the source. At the foot of the queen-sized bed, Quinn was shimmying back into her jeans.

  He propped a shoulder against the jamb. “Don’t get dressed on my account.”

  “You may have been a jerk for the last couple of months, but I know you like to look at my ass.” She shot him a teasing smile over her shoulder.

  He grinned right back, realizing he had missed those smiles. He hadn’t seen them nearly enough. “It’s almost a shame to cover it up then, isn’t it?”

  She snorted. “I’m nothing if not a bitch at times.” She tossed him the water, and he took a long gulp before he ventured into the room.

  Cass’
s bedroom, he guessed. He’d met her once, had been shocked as hell to see Quinn’s face on a woman who was her polar opposite. “You still haven’t heard anything?”

  Quinn shook her head, sadness instantly creeping into her eyes as she sank back down on the bed. “I don’t understand why she didn’t tell me something was wrong.”

  He listened as she filled him in on the police supposedly looking into it, the storm demon that had been here and the new door.

  He moved closer for a better look, always amazed at the depth of her senses. “How close was I when you heard me coming?”

  She hesitated. “The driveway.”

  He turned, smiled. “Liar.”

  “With the exception—” she glanced at the clock, “—of the last hour and a half, I haven’t slept in two days. A Scion could have been having a keg party in the backyard and I would have missed it.”

  It might have been an exaggeration, but he could tell by the dark circles under her eyes that she was exhausted.

  She sighed. “You don’t have to stay at a hotel. There’s a guest room across the hall.”

  “Not in the mood to hate me tonight?”

  “I’ve never hated you, Brax.” She closed her eyes, and when she glanced at him again the truth in her gaze hit him hard in the chest. Followed quickly by relief.

  It was only Braxton that hated himself for what he’d let happen, for what changed things between them.

  “Besides,” she continued. “I’ll sleep a little better with you watching my back.” She leaned back, rested on her elbows. “Let me have it already.” Her shirt slipped up, drawing his attention to her exposed abs.

  “Have what?” he choked, then shoved his hands in his pockets, pulling his pants forward to hide his hard-on.

  “I’m sure you’re just waiting to jump all over me about taking off on you like that.”

  She had the jump all over her part right anyway.

  He shook his head. “Are you sorry for taking off?”

  “No. She’s my sister.”

  “Then why bother giving you a hard time. You were worried about Cass.”

  “Why would a storm demon be after her, why take the time to cover up the damage done?” She flopped back on the bed. “It doesn’t make any sense. Demons don’t even dispose of the bodies of the people they kill in the middle of the street. Why take her from here?”

  “Could the Destroyer gene have been activated, mutated her?”

  “Before now?” Quinn shook her head. “When Cass gets so much as a cold, I know about it. If she developed any extraordinary abilities, she definitely would have mentioned it.”

  “The way you told her?”

  She didn’t say anything. “That stealth demon cornered me less than a month after our parents died. She didn’t take their deaths well.”

  “No one does.” That much he knew. Having lost his dad at a young age, he knew that kind of hurt all too well.

  “For a long time she was so fragile. Telling her what happened to me, knowing what I really do, the creatures I fight, she’d be constantly worried she would lose me like we lost Mom and Dad.”

  “That’s a risk we all take.”

  “One I chose to take. I can’t live my life the way so many like us do and pretend I don’t have the ability to help stop the bastards from preying on people. But I would never put the burden of the choice I made on my sister’s shoulders.”

  He cocked his head. “Maybe she’s stronger than you think.”

  “And what about your mom? When was the last time you two had a little chat about the fact that you can read minds?”

  “But see if my mom knew, well then eventually she’d tell one of my sisters, and once one knew—”

  Quinn grinned. “Then they all would.”

  “It’s damn hard tuning them out at holiday dinners, let alone if they all knew what I could do? And if any of them ever found that out when they were PMSing…” Braxton cringed.

  “I can’t imagine what it must have been like to have grown up with four sisters. One was enough to drive me crazy a lot of days.”

  She sobered at the mention of her sister, and he crossed the room to sit next to her.

  “We’ll find her.”

  “I know. And when I do, so help me I’m going to kick her ass.”

  “I suppose you were the one who bossed her around when you two were younger.”

  Quinn rolled to her side, propped her head on her hand. “Actually she was the bossy one, the leader you could say.”

  “I find it hard to believe that you followed anyone.”

  She punched him playfully in the arm. “I followed you around plenty.”

  The reminder was just meant to mean their assignments, but he didn’t hear it without thinking of the times she haunted his desk to joke with him about something or drive him crazy with the infectious sound of her laugh.

  His gaze dipped to her mouth, and when it crossed his mind how soft her lips looked, he took another drink of water. On the plane he’d thought he’d be able to come here and tell her what really happened the night she’d been quarantined. Seeing her so vulnerable and worried about her sister, he couldn’t bring himself to say anything that would add to it. “So what changed? With you and Cass?”

  “For as long as I can remember Cass was my rock, but when our parents died something inside her went with them.” Quinn’s voice started to crack, and she pressed her lips together. “So I stepped up and let her lean on me.”

  “And you’ve been the mother chick ever since.”

  She scoffed. “Mother chick my ass. I prefer to label myself as nurturing.”

  He twined a strand of her blue hair around his finger. “A downright wholesome role model.”

  She snapped her hair out of his grasp, her eyes laughing. “I’ve never claimed to be wholesome. I swear way too much for that.”

  Braxton laughed, and her grin widened.

  “We used to be like this,” she said after a moment.

  He heard the need for explanation hover under her words, but didn’t address it. “I know.”

  “I’ve missed that. Missed pushing your buttons and kicking your ass in the training room.”

  “I’m pretty sure I got you on your back a few times.”

  She shoved at his chest. “In your dreams.”

  There was just enough power behind the move to push him over the side of the bed.

  He caught her wrist and hauled her down with him.

  She landed in a laughing pile, half-sprawled across his chest. Braxton started to sit up. Her mouth was too close. Her gaze flicked to his, and then he was lifting his hand and guiding her down to meet him halfway.

  Soft didn’t do the slow sweep across his lips justice. Her mouth opened, and the quiet moan that melted on their breaths knocked loose something in his chest. His fingers tightened over the nape of her neck, and he groaned right along with her at the silky glide of her tongue when he pushed deeper into her mouth.

  Her nails pressed through the shirt she bunched between her clenched fingers, delivering a sharp contrast to the slow brush of her mouth, a leisurely exploration he knew he needed to savor. A kiss from a woman who hadn’t been more than five minutes from his thoughts for over two years.

  She pulled away much too soon and rocked back on her heels. Her attention dropped to the carpet and he caught the glimmer of a grin he knew so well.

  “So you can take it slow, Boy Scout.” Then she was on her feet and into the master bathroom, out of sight.

  He stood up.

  “Don’t come in,” she warned. “I’m peeing.”

  “With the door open?”

  “Does having it shut change the fact that my bladder was ready to burst?”

  He laughed. “No.”

  “Besides, how many times have I seen you or Gage or Drew have to take a piss in the most unreasonable places?”

  “Define unreasonable?”

  With an indelicate snort, she flushed the toilet, and a se
cond later he heard the sound of running water. “Forget I said anything. You men need only a little pressure from the kidneys and you’re looking for a fire hydrant. Reason has nothing to do with it.”

  “Drew would be offended by that.”

  She emerged from the bathroom and ventured back towards the bed, but didn’t get within arm’s reach. “I’m glad you were the one who came.”

  “We didn’t get to finish our talk last night.”

  She fluffed the pillow on the bed, then nodded towards the hallway. He followed as she led the way to the room across the hall. She flicked on the light. “It’s just been some bad dreams, Brax.”

  “About what?”

  “I’m not sure. Most of them I can’t remember.”

  Mostly true, he decided. Not getting a fix on her tonight—like a lot of times—he had gotten fairly good at reading her other cues.

  “What about the elevator?”

  “That…I have no idea.”

  He caught her hand. “You’d tell me if there was anything else, or if something was bothering you?”

  She nodded, her gaze locked firmly on his. His gut wrenched tight, his body straining to draw her closer. He wanted to taste the spot at her throat, the one that had driven her crazy before.

  Quinn paused in the doorway. “See you in the morning.”

  “Night, Quinn.”

  He heard the door close down the hall, then went back downstairs where he’d left his bag by the door. He glanced at the phone, wondering at the wisdom of sleeping across the hall from her. Hell, he’d worked with her for two years and managed to keep his hands off her. He could do this. Things would be fine. They’d be fine. Probably better. They’d made up. Sort of. That was all.

  That was all.

  * * *

  Warm water trailed down her skin, fiery streams that worked the knots in her shoulders loose. Her leg ached from the fight, but she ignored it. She heard him behind her and smiled, turning her face up under the spray.

  He gripped her waist and drew her back against his chest. She tilted her head back to look at him, and his mouth dipped down, feasting on hers. Warm and potent, his tongue thrust between her lips to stroke in wide hot circles.

  His hands moved upward. He swirled the pads of his thumbs around her nipples, then plucked each tip. With every determined tug her sex clenched.