“Not at all,” Raphael said quickly. “I believe Lucas will defeat Klemens quite handily when the time comes.”
“Unfortunately,” Jared chimed in, “the FBI is sticking its nose into Lucas’s business right now. They’re supposed to be visiting his ranch, but they keep delaying, and he doesn’t want to start a war with the FBI breathing down his back.”
“His ranch?” Cyn repeated in disbelief. “Are we talking actual cows and horses? That kind of a ranch?”
The corner of Jared’s mouth lifted in amusement. “No cows that I know of, but lots of horses. Lucas breeds them, mostly for his own pleasure, I think. But he sells a few. Makes a pretty penny, too. He apparently knows what he’s doing.”
“Huh. What does the FBI want with a horse breeding vampire?”
“It’s a missing person investigation. The missing man apparently hooked up with a vampire or two.”
“Missing person isn’t usually an FBI gig,” Cyn commented. “Especially not since nine eleven. They’re focused on other things.”
“You’re right,” Jared agreed. “But this one’s personal. Lucas made some calls to our people at the FBI. The agent hanging up Lucas is running this one on her personal time. It’s her brother who’s missing.”
“Lucas has been stalling, waiting for this FBI thing to blow over,” Raphael added. “But he can only wait so long before his own people start doubting him. The FBI woman was delayed, or so she claimed, but is finally supposed to arrive next week.”
“The only good part is that she’s a woman,” Jared said, exchanging a knowing glance with Raphael.
Cyn frowned and gave Raphael a questioning look.
Raphael smiled briefly. “Lucas has a way with women. He claims it’s because he loves them all, and they know it.”
“I think he just talks a good line and women—” Jared cut himself off with a quick glance at Cyn. “Most women fall for that smarmy Irish charm of his.”
The words were harsh, but Cyn sensed affection underneath. “So Klemens is right,” Cyn said to Raphael. “You do support Lucas.”
Raphael dipped his head slowly. “I am his Sire, my Cyn, though few are aware of our relationship. But Lucas is a vampire lord and fully capable of defending his territory. He doesn’t need my help.”
Cyn studied Raphael, trying to figure out if he’d go to Lucas’s aid if necessary. She understood why he wouldn’t come out and say it. Or at least she thought she did. First, it would undermine Lucas’s authority to suggest he needed help to hold his own territory. Vampires were very prickly about stuff like that. But second, or maybe it was just a continuation of the first reason, if Raphael said he would help Lucas, it implied Lucas couldn’t do it on his own, that his Sire didn’t believe in him. The relationship between Sire and child was a powerful one. For Lucas to believe he’d lost Raphael’s confidence on the eve of battle would be a devastating blow. She hadn’t been with Raphael all that long, had never witnessed a full-fledged vampire war, but the vampire skirmishes she’d witnessed were nothing to sneeze at. They were short, brutal and bloody. And in the end, the losers were quite literally blowing in the wind.
But while this was all very interesting, there was nothing here to help Cyn’s problem, which was figuring out who was trying to kill Raphael.
“Okay, so we believe Klemens hired a human sniper to take out Raphael,” Cyn confirmed, dragging the conversation back on course.
“Why do you assume he was human?” Jared asked, frowning. “Vampires have far superior night vision.”
“Yeah, but this guy was set up well before sunset. Sniping is a unique skill, almost a science. And I’m not talking about the people who do it as a competitive sport. I’m talking about the guys who learned their trade in the military or law enforcement, guys who’ve killed more than once. They don’t drop down, pull up a rifle and shoot. They need prep time. The gun has to be stable, the field has to be clear. They need to know the conditions and calculate accordingly.
“I don’t know if you’ve seen the landscape down that valley, but I have, and in daytime. There’s no place there for a vampire to tuck himself away for the day in order to be in place for a sunset hit. Trust me, once we find the shooter’s nest or hide, you’ll discover he’s human.”
* * * *
While Jared and Cyn debated the likely identity of their sniper, Raphael studied his mate, watching her lovely face, sensing the fine mind revealed in every word she said. He was also trying to discern exactly what she’d been doing with the extra time she’d taken to change clothes. He didn’t for a moment buy into the breathless act she’d put on. Oh, certainly, she’d been rushed, but not because it took so long for her to shower and change. He lived with this woman. He knew precisely how long it took her to get ready, whether in a hurry or not.
No, he was quite certain she’d been pursuing some personal avenue of investigation on the shooting. Never mind that he didn’t want her going after whoever was behind this. She’d do it anyway, and they both knew it. What made him suspicious was that she didn’t want him to know the specific path of inquiry she’d been following. She hadn’t had time for more than a phone call or two, but to whom? There was her former mentor back in the LAPD, Dean Eckhoff. He was a homicide detective now and might well have some useful resources. But Juro shared Cyn’s opinion that the shot had come from a rocky lump of hillside several hundred yards distant. Raphael was no expert on these things, but he doubted even the LAPD saw many sniper quality kill shots, so who . . .
Raphael shut down his instant surge of anger as a suitable name came immediately to mind. Colin Murphy. The former Navy SEAL who was now mated to Sophia, Lord of the CanadianTerritories. Murphy and Cyn had forged a friendship on that terrible day last November, when Cyn had almost died. Raphael had very nearly killed Murphy right along with Cyn’s bodyguard Robbie, furious that they’d survived unscathed while his Cyn had been fighting for her life. It had been Cyn herself who had wasted what little breath she had to plead for their lives. Thoughts of that day still had the power to shake him to his very soul.
Cyn paused mid-sentence, turning to meet his gaze with a solemn stare. She would have sensed the surge in his emotions through the mate bond. While she couldn’t read his thoughts, she was a very intuitive woman, and she knew Raphael well. He stretched out a hand, and she took it, linking her fingers with his.
“Turns out Jared and I have Texas in common, Raphael,” she said, smoothing over the moment, and obviously aware that he’d not been listening to the conversation.
“I actually saw Cyn when I was there, my lord,” Jared provided. “Though I didn’t know who she was at the time.”
Raphael shifted his gaze to Jared. “You were at Jabril’s estate?” he growled.
“Only the first evening, my lord. I left later that same night. I’d gotten what I came for, what you sent me there for. If I’d known who she was to you, of course, I’d never have left her there alone.”
Cyn reacted predictably to this with a dismissive huff of breath. “I was perfectly fine, and you’d only have gotten in my way. Worse, you probably would have scared the hell out of Mirabelle, and she’d never have left that horrible place with me.”
Jared seemed somewhat taken aback at this dismissive assessment, while Juro, who’d been listening silently until now, snorted in amusement. It was a rare display of emotion for his taciturn security chief. Cyn had that effect on his vampires.
“Very well,” Raphael said abruptly. “Juro, if you would finish briefing Jared on the security situation and what’s being done to track down this assassin, please.”
“I’d like in on that briefing, too,” Cyn said.
“Not tonight,” Raphael said flatly. “We have other plans.” He stood, still holding onto her hand, and gave her an expectant look. Cyn gazed up at him with a frown. She knew they didn’t have plans. In fact, their plans had originally involved Raphael being tied up in meetings most of the evening. But he knew she wouldn’t question him
in front of his vampires, either.
She nodded and let him pull her up and into the circle of his arm, his hand resting on her waist.
Jared pushed back from the table and stood immediately. “Sire,” he said, bending his head in respect. “Cyn, it was a pleasure to meet you at last.”
“Thanks, and I’m sure we’ll be working together on this. Juro, we’ll talk later,” she added, slanting a sideways glance at Raphael.
Raphael herded Cyn out of the conference room, then strode down the hallway to their private quarters, holding her hand tightly. Cyn hustled to keep up with him, but her legs were nearly as long as his, so it wasn’t much of a stretch. She remained silent until they reached the privacy of their room, but he’d no sooner closed the door, than she rounded on him.
“What plans?” she asked immediately. “Is there something about this assassination attempt you haven’t told—” Her words cut off as she finally registered his anger. “Raphael?” she said cautiously.
“My Cyn,” he purred, reaching out and brushing a lock of hair away from her face, letting his fingers glide down over her jaw and neck, before wrapping them around her nape.
Sensing his mood, Cyn leaned away from him, pushing back against his hand.
“You’ve been busy tonight,” he said, gently massaging the back of her neck.
He saw the war in her expression as she decided whether to tough it out or simply to admit what she’d done. Admission won. Mostly, because she was too proud to lie, but also, he was certain, because she knew he’d discover the truth eventually and be twice as angry.
Cyn blew out an impatient breath and rolled her eyes up in disgust. “Fine. So I made a few phone calls. I have resources, Raphael. When someone tries to kill you, I’m going to use them.”
“Resources that include Colin Murphy?”
“How did you—” She shrugged his hand away angrily and took a step back, trying again to put some distance between them, but he was too fast for her. He pulled her close, his hands gentle but uncompromising as they held her in place.
“Do you have my phone tapped?” she demanded.
“My sweet Cyn,” he chided her. “I don’t need to tap your phone. I know how your mind works. And I don’t like you calling Colin Murphy for anything.”
“You can’t tell me who—”
Raphael slammed his mouth over hers, yanking her up against his body and tightening his arm around her waist to hold her there. Cyn fought briefly, mostly for form, he thought, as the always burning attraction between them grabbed hold of her just as it did him. She softened almost immediately, her mouth opening beneath his, her arms going around his neck as she crushed her breasts against his chest.
Raphael slid his fingers under the edge of her sweater and wrenched it upward, releasing her long enough to tug it over her head and throw it aside. He bent his head to her breasts, their soft, golden mounds swelling out of the lace cups of her bra. He sucked fiercely on one of her nipples through the lace, biting down hard enough that Cyn hissed, her fingernails scraping his skull where she held his head in place, arching forward to offer herself to his mouth.
Raphael ripped the front clasp of her bra open, his hands coming up to cup her breasts, his thumbs thrumming her nipples into rigid peaks.
“Take this off,” Cyn rasped, ripping at his sweater before her hands dropped to the snap on his jeans. “These, too,” she demanded.
Raphael laughed, delighted at her response to him. No matter how angry she was, no matter how angry he was, this was always there. This passion between them that threatened to burn them alive sometimes. This was something she had with no other male. He would never permit it, even if she desired it. She was his, now and always, and he would prove that to her once again tonight.
Raphael tore his sweater over his head and tossed it to the floor, ripped open the button fly on his jeans and shoved them to his ankles, stepping out of them as he swept Cyn into his arms and carried her to the bed. She kissed him hungrily, not letting go of his mouth until he threw her onto the bed.
“Raphael!” she gasped, then wiggled her hips helpfully when he bent to the task of removing her snug-fitting pants. There were no catches or zippers, he simply rolled them down over her hips and stripped them from her legs, leaving her in nothing but a tiny piece of lace. He reached for it, the only thing between him and the wet heat between Cyn’s legs.
“I’ll do it,” she said quickly. “I like these!” She hooked her thumbs in the narrow sides and slipped the panties down her hips, lifting her ass enticingly as she slid the panties under her body and down her legs. Raphael grabbed the underwear impatiently, yanking it down over her calves and feet and throwing it over his shoulder. He bent down over her naked body, his gaze skimming over every inch of her smooth skin, over the firm muscles of her calves and thighs to her perfectly smooth pussy. Raphael licked his lips, then raised his gaze to meet Cyn’s. She was watching him through eyes fogged with desire, their usual sharp green turned mossy as she met his hungry gaze. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her heartbeat a pulsing presence beneath her breast. Her nipples were engorged, ripe and dark, enticing treats begging for his bite.
Raphael smiled as he gripped her calves, then ran his hands up the inside of her thighs, spreading them wide until the swollen folds of her labia came into view—so pretty, so puffy with desire, just begging him to touch. He stroked his thumb over the crease of her sex, softly first, then harder, feeling the heat, the creamy moisture soaking her slit, waiting for him.
Cyn spread her legs wider, lifting herself in eager invitation. Raphael gripped her thighs, holding her in place as he used his thumbs to open her pussy wide. He bent his head and tasted her, a quick lick of her sweetness that had Cyn crying out, her strong fingers digging into his shoulders.
Raphael smiled in satisfaction and lowered his head again, his tongue caressing her, licking up every bit of cream, stabbing into her pussy, in and out like a small cock, tasting the silky heat that grew wetter with every stroke. Cyn was keening needfully, eyes closed, her head thrown back as she thrashed beneath his sensuous assault. His tongue traced an erotic line between her swollen folds and up to the pulsing bundle of nerves that was her clit. It too was engorged, looking like a ripe, juicy cherry waiting to be bitten. He growled hungrily and rasped his tongue roughly over its sensitive surface. Cyn gasped, her hips coming off the bed in response, as she cried his name, “Raphael!”
Raphael drew her clit into his mouth, sucking firmly as she bucked beneath him, as a small orgasm tightened the muscles of her belly. She shivered, her pussy clenching and unclenching as it sought a cock to fill it. Raphael stroked his tongue over her clit once more, then bit down, tasting the sweet nectar of Cyn’s blood as she screamed in the throes of a second climax, much stronger than the first. Her body convulsed beneath him, her thighs closing around his shoulders, hands fisted in his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. Raphael released her clit, lifting his head and rasping his tongue over the bleeding nub a final time. Cyn moaned, her head thrashing back and forth, her hands cupping her own breasts, fingers twisting her nipples as she tried to find satisfaction.
Raphael watched up the length of her body as he inhaled the scent of her arousal and beneath that, the sweet undercurrent of her blood. He growled hungrily and raised himself on all fours, settling his hips between her thighs, his cock pressing against the satin cream of her sex.
Cyn lifted her legs around his back, crossing her ankles and trapping him there. Her eyes opened in satisfaction as her arms circled his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. Raphael could taste her sex on his lips and knew she was tasting herself, too. The thought made him grow even harder, his cock a constant ache of need as he reached down and nudged it into the wet heat between her legs.
Cyn’s tongue twisted with his as their lips met, their teeth clashing with the force of their kiss, her tongue a brand as it swept his mouth from side to side. She bit down on his lower lip, and his blood began to flow.
She groaned at the taste of it, and then her entire body arched beneath him as his blood raced through her body, zinging along nerves and throwing her into yet another screaming climax. Raphael swallowed her scream, growling as he pushed himself into her silky, wet channel, feeling the demanding caress of her muscles closing around him, clenching as tight as a vise as the climax continued to roar through her body. He began to move, slowly at first, fighting the grasp of her sex as it rippled along his length, wanting to hold him in place, to milk him of his seed. He bent his head to her neck, licking her soft skin, tasting the salty sweetness of her sweat. He closed his teeth over the ridge of tendon between her neck and collar bone, biting to the very edge of pain before sucking the skin instead, leaving his mark.
Cyn gripped his head, crushing his face into her neck in blatant demand. Raphael grinned knowingly against her skin. His Cyn didn’t want tender bites and marks of ownership, she wanted his fangs sinking into her vein, wanted the rush of his bite that would send her screaming into an orgasm so intense even the taste of his blood paled in comparison. Raphael thought about the sweetness of her blood, about the ecstasy of having his Cyn quivering beneath him, around him, as she climaxed over and over again.
He began thrusting harder, driving himself between her long legs, relishing the slide of her sex against his shaft, the slap of his balls against her ass as she lifted herself to meet his onslaught, her muscles tensing with the effort, her ankles tight around his back.
His chest was pressed against hers, her nipples a stroke of velvet over marble. He ground himself against her breasts, and she groaned, arching her back and rubbing herself against him wantonly. Raphael lifted his head, watching her flushed face, the sheen of sweat along her brow. Her tongue came out to lick her upper lip, and he bent, quick as a snake, and sucked it into his mouth, turning the action into a kiss.
Their teeth clashed, his fangs scraping against her lip. Blood began to flow, and it was Raphael’s turn to groan. Her blood was intoxicating, swelling his cock until her body was forced to stretch around him, her muscles trembling with the effort.
Betrayed Page 3
