Cipher

by Moira Rogers

  A thousand little cues, and sometimes Kat wondered if interpreting the subtle intricacies would ever feel natural. “Uh-huh. To my human nose, the place smells like pizza. Is it almost done cooking?”

  Sera ducked back into the kitchen, her voice drifting back down the hallway. “Five minutes.”

  “Five minutes,” Kat echoed, nodding to Miguel. “If a run would help, why don’t you go take one after we eat?”

  “Yeah, maybe,” he replied vaguely.

  Andrew’s words came back to her, the ones he’d whispered before he kissed her goodbye. “It’s just some guy throwing his weight around. He thinks Julio and I are weak, so we’re going to talk to him, face-to-face. I’ll come to your place when we’re done.” They’d seemed innocent, at the time.

  They had better have been innocent. “Is there a reason you can’t leave?”

  Miguel tensed. “Are you going to get pissed off if I say yes?”

  She was going to kill Andrew, or at least beat him within an inch of begging for death. “I’m already pissed. I’m going to be fucking furious if you lie to me.”

  He shrugged a split second before someone knocked on the door. “You’re not going to get to be alone much anymore. You need to talk to Andrew about it.”

  Stunned, Kat stared at him as Sera started for the front door. “If something else came up with the cult, they should have told me. That shit was supposed to be over—”

  “It’s not the cult,” he argued.

  “What’s not the cult?” Anna asked as she walked in, a battered knapsack slung over one shoulder.

  “Kat was just demanding to know why she’s being babysat.”

  The woman chuckled as she dropped to the sofa beside him. “Welcome to being involved in wolf politics. I can’t think of anyone on any of the regional councils who doesn’t employ at least casual security for their families.”

  Kat opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again. Andrew and Julio were members of the council, but they didn’t have families to protect, not besides Miguel and— “Carmen. Are you telling me your sister puts up with a bodyguard and hasn’t strangled Alec for it yet?”

  Miguel reached for the soda he’d left sitting on the coffee table. “Carmen’s had one since they went to New York. It’s not optional for Conclave members. Even Alec finally stopped fighting it.”

  The world tilted. “Alec. Alec has a bodyguard?”

  Anna plucked the soda can from Miguel’s hand. “Like he said—it’s not optional. There are too many people who’d like to avoid challenges with Conclave members and are willing to fight dirty to do it.”

  Kat pinned Sera with a look. “Did you know?”

  “Me?” Sera tossed her kitchen towel over her shoulder, a casual gesture that didn’t distract from the tightness in her eyes. “I’m a coyote, Kat. A backwoods hick coyote. I don’t have a clue how shapeshifter royalty lives.”

  Maybe Andrew hadn’t known, either. She’d give him a chance to say that, before she screamed at him. “So every time some wolf gets pissy with Julio or Andrew, I’m going to end up with a babysitter? Just because I’m dating a council member?”

  “For a while.” Anna seemed unapologetic. “This is the life, Kat, love it or hate it. The same thing would’ve gone down if your cousin had taken that council spot he earned instead of running off with Nick.”

  In some ways, it still had. From the day Derek had married the Alpha’s daughter, Kat had weighed all of her decisions against the sure knowledge that she could be used as leverage. Hadn’t that been part of the reason she’d pushed herself in endless rounds with Zola? But in New Orleans, she’d been removed from that. Outside of the immediate sphere of John Peyton and his enemies.

  It wouldn’t be the same with Andrew. His enemies would come to him, and she’d be at his side. It wouldn’t matter that she could turn their brains to Jell-O and erase their existences—she looked like a tempting target. They’d come after her, again and again, and she’d have to defend herself. How many times could she use her mind to crush out someone’s life before the darkness started to numb her to the horror of it?

  They were all staring at her, even Sera, until the timer went off in the kitchen and she swore and took off to rescue the pizza.

  Kat looked at Anna. “It’s more complicated than I realized.”

  “It always is.” She made a face and then dug the video game controller out from behind her back. “Anyway, I’m the next shift, so…get lost, Mendoza.”

  He rose, but his troubled gaze remained on Kat. “I can stay, if you want.”

  His turn to be protective, her turn to smile and pretend she was fine. “Go on. I’m sick of boys, anyway.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Girl time.” He gathered his stuff and left silently.

  “He must be going nuts not to stick around for pizza,” Anna observed.

  “He has good days and bad days.” Kat leaned back and closed her eyes. “Jesus, Anna. Who the hell does someone like Alec hire as a bodyguard? He’s already the scariest person I know.”

  She laughed. “It’s not his job to be scarier than Alec, just to make sure no one can sneak up and get the drop on them. To take over Alec’s role of raving, paranoid lunatic, if you will.”

  “Sounds like fun.” At least she’d recovered her sense of sarcasm. “I’m not sure I want one of those following me around. I didn’t like having Alec following me around, either, and I was a lot more tolerant at twenty.”

  Anna pulled a tattered paperback out of her bag. “Now that? Is none of my business.”

  It wasn’t Anna’s business, and the fact that Kat was tempted to press the issue was proof of how far she’d come from jealousy and self-consciousness. Whatever Anna knew—or didn’t know—about Andrew and his plans to put Kat under 24/7 surveillance, she clearly had no intention of breaking alpha ranks.

  The dominant shapeshifters rarely did…and Sera’s Sharpie reminder on the bathroom mirror was starting to make a lot more sense. No fucking alpha bastards, indeed. Kat had climbed into bed with one, and this was what came of it.

  Deciding to save her ire for its intended target, Kat cast about for a change of topic. “Is Patrick still in town?”

  “Don’t think so. He had to go meet a contact about a job.” The book lay unopened in Anna’s hands. “You know, working with him wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be.”

  It didn’t seem like a very noteworthy comment until Sera appeared with a pizza stone in one hand and a six-pack of Heineken in the other. “Jesus, what did he do to change your tune? Cure cancer and rescue a litter of kittens?”

  “I appreciate a certain level of ability and efficiency.” Anna tilted her head and flashed them a wicked grin. “Plus, did you see those tattoos? Too bad he’s off limits.”

  “Says who?” Sera settled the food on the well-abused coffee table and took a beer. “If you’re not going there, I sure the hell am.”

  “Uh-huh.” Kat didn’t need beer, but she did lean forward and claim one of the corner pieces from the pizza. “Don’t let the road-warrior act fool you, guys. Patrick’s squishy hearted. The tattoos aren’t a bad-boy thing. They’re magic.”

  “Magic,” Anna agreed. “Only way for someone like him to stay alive, doing what he does.”

  “He’ll never say where he got them or what they do…” Kat trailed off and grinned. “I’ve heard he can hold his own against shapeshifters, though. I mean, he must.”

  Anna grabbed the remote control, turned on the TV and began scanning through the channel guide. “So, what’re we watching tonight?”

  It was about as subtle as the way Sera could spend two hours in a room with Julio without looking at him once. Avoidance and denial, and it made Kat want to laugh. She’d spent so much time feeling unattractive and awkward and violently jealous of Anna and Sera, and they were just as lost and insecure as anyone else.

  Whether you were a blonde femme fatale, a bombshell redhead or a geeky brunette, men were still a pain in the ass. Some truth
s were apparently universal.

  It didn’t take an empath to see Kat was pissed.

  Andrew parked the car, pulled up the emergency brake and turned to her. “What did I do?”

  She shook her head. “Inside. I’ll talk inside.”

  It had to be the fact that she’d been under guard. All the way into the warehouse and up to his loft, Andrew considered the possibilities, and it was the only one that made sense. He dropped his keys on the kitchen counter and turned, bracing his hands on the granite as he faced her. “I was going to talk to you about it.”

  “But you didn’t.” She eased the wide strap of her laptop bag over her head and set it down next to the door. “Which is a whole different and way more serious issue than the fact that I have to have guards to begin with.”

  “By the time I thought about it, there wasn’t time.” He retrieved two bottles of water from the refrigerator and held one out to her. “It’s no different than what we were doing when the cult was still active. I figured we could talk about it later.”

  Kat stared at the bottle of water for a few seconds before taking it, though she immediately set it down. “There was time to tell Miguel and Anna.”

  “There was time to ask them to watch out for you. I didn’t have to explain why.”

  “And you thought I’d get pissed off or not trust you? If you just told me without explaining?”

  “Give me some credit, Kat. I thought it would wait, is all.” And he hadn’t wanted her to worry, but admitting as much might just upset her more.

  Instead of replying, she jerked at the zipper on her jacket, tugging it down in abrupt, rough movements that showed she was still angry, still clutching at her temper. She slid out of the garment and tossed it over the back of the couch. “I found out that I might have to have a bodyguard for the rest of my life from someone else. And I felt like a stupid kid again, like every time someone shuffled me off into a closet because bad stuff was going down but no one wanted me to know about it.”

  “I’m sorry.” It was the very last thing he’d ever meant to do. “I don’t think you’re a kid.”

  Kat closed her eyes and sank to the cushions with a groan. “I know. But it’s—it’s a sore spot, and it’s always going to be. I need you to be the one person who is painfully, brutally honest with me when things are dangerous.”

  “Okay, I screwed up.” Andrew perched on the arm of the couch. “The guy Julio and I were dealing with today has a chip on his shoulder about the council, and it doesn’t matter that I don’t have legacy. He’ll push my buttons like anyone else’s, and I don’t really think he cares how he does it.”

  “And people are already figuring out I’m one of your buttons?”

  One thing didn’t change, no matter who or where you were—gossip. “People like to talk.”

  She tilted her head back and stared up at him. “I don’t love the idea of a bodyguard, but I can get my head around it, as long as we get a few things clear upfront.”

  “Such as?”

  “I get to decide who. And how.” She shifted to her knees, so her head was closer to his. “And we get Jackson or Mahalia or someone to ward your loft and my apartment well enough that I can have time alone when I need it. If this is a shapeshifter threat, then magical protection is enough. I’m not going to live the rest of my life like we did the last couple weeks.”

  “Done.” He touched her hair, relishing the way the soft strands slipped through his fingers. “I really wasn’t being a jerk this time. There’s been so much going on, that’s all.”

  She leaned into his hand and offered a tiny smile. “I was furious. I wanted to come back here and strangle you with some cat-5 cable. And then I did give you credit. I thought of every time you choked back your instincts so you wouldn’t smother me, and I realized I should trust you.” The smile faded. “And then I wondered if you didn’t trust me. If you thought I’d be so reckless that I’d fight this just to—”

  “You were worried the other night,” he cut in. Maybe if she understood why… “Freaking out about the cult stuff, and thinking you might go off the deep end. Maybe—maybe I didn’t want you to think that your life’s going to be one never-ending string of boss fights that are going to push you closer and closer to the edge.”

  Her lips twitched. Pursed. She clenched them together as her face scrunched up, like she was fighting to hold in laughter. She fought it until her face was red. “Boss…fights?” Her mirth spilled free, the sound filling his ears as she dropped her forehead to his leg and laughed until she shook.

  He sighed. “You know, aside from my unfortunate use of video-game terminology, that’s really not funny.”

  “I know, I know…” She gasped in another breath and stared up at him. “I just…I love you, Andrew. I love you enough to have bodyguards or babysitters or whatever the hell else it takes, because you’re not going to let me get anywhere near the edge.”

  He dragged her closer. “Not if I can help it.”

  “I’ve got dark places inside me, but that’s not all bad.” Her hand landed on his chest, fingers spread wide. “I figure I can spend the next few decades letting you see all of them. If you can handle them.”

  If anything, her dark places matched his. “As long as you need me the way I need you. Everything else is…everything else.”

  The tip of her tongue teased over her lower lip in a quick, nervous gesture. “I don’t even have words for what I need. I could let you feel it?”

  He had no reservations. “If you want.”

  She left one hand on his chest and lifted the other to his cheek. The first tickle ghosted over him as her eyes drifted shut, just a hint of affection.

  Then love bloomed, and a passion that bordered on feral, instinctive desire. Control—his loss of it, that was what she needed. For his need for her to overrule everything else.

  They tumbled to the couch, her mouth under his, open and hot. He couldn’t think, couldn’t stop himself from turning her over, across the arm of the couch with her knees digging into the cushions.

  He couldn’t stop himself—but she could. If it was too much, too far, she could stop him.

  She didn’t. Instead she moaned, and the wild emotions vanished as her head slammed back against his shoulder. “Just like this,” she said, the words breathless. “God, just like this.”

  He accidentally tore her shirt, but the fear he expected didn’t come. Her shields were intact, and he wasn’t beyond control, dangerous, just…

  “I need you,” he mumbled against the smooth, newly bared skin of her back.

  “Good.” She squirmed, yanking the tattered fabric over her head, every movement grinding the curve of her ass against his hips. “Don’t let me hold back. Don’t let me hide from you.”

  They’d always locked themselves away like that, and it had very nearly killed them. “No hiding.” He licked her back and pushed at her pants.

  They were loose—stretchy, like yoga pants—and slid down easily enough. Kat whimpered, one hand groping for the back of the couch, and dropped her head forward. “I had this fantasy about a hundred times.”

  “Only a hundred?”

  “Sometimes we were in a bed. Or over the table.” She shivered. “Sometimes you made me come. Just with your fingers or your mouth, because you wanted me to beg before you’d take me. But sometimes it was just this, and then you were inside me…”

  So many possibilities, and it would take years to explore every one of them. “I can do that.”

  “Make me come?” Almost a question, but then she laughed, low and throaty. “I know you can. Make me come, Andrew. Please, please, I don’t care if it’s fast or hard, I just want to feel you—”

  His hands shook as he rolled on a condom and gripped her hips. She wiggled impatiently, and he distracted her by dropping tiny bites across her shoulder blades and the back of her neck as he worked into her slick heat.

  She was panting by the time he made it halfway in and moaning before he thrus
t home. Her fingernails scratched the upholstery of the couch as her body clenched around him, already primed for release. Her shaky plea confirmed it, made him grit his teeth and press his forehead to her bare skin. “So close, please…touch me, please touch me.”

  Andrew slipped one hand around her until his fingers found her clit. “Kat.”

  “Oh—” Just a sound, a gasp, and she flew apart, her release as fast and easy as the wildest of her empathy-fueled orgasms. But there was no feedback this time, no projection, just Kat coming hard around him.

  He thrust once and then again, clenching his teeth against the need to follow her. But her orgasm went on and on, dragging him along, and driving her higher proved an impossibility. Pleasure tightened along with the rhythmic clasp of her body, and he shouted her name as he gave in to it, to the intense throb that started at the base of his spine and cascaded through him.

  Kat slumped forward over the arm of the couch, her head down and her hair brushing the floor. Underneath him, her body was lax. “Holy shit.”

  He couldn’t speak, so he traced his lips over the dark lines of the tribal tattoo that wound its way from her hairline down between her shoulder blades. “Mmm.”

  Goose bumps dotted her arms. “It doesn’t bother you, does it? The tattoo?”

  “Bother me?”

  “The mark.” She tilted her head, baring the side of her throat where he’d bitten her the first time. “I marked myself.”

  He soothed the spot with his tongue. “I’m not sure it works that way, Kat.”

  “Oh, good.” The words slurred together. “Not that I’d mind. If you wanted to bite the back of my neck.”

  “Uh-huh.” Andrew laughed. “Don’t worry. I won’t gnaw your tattoo off.”

  A giggle escaped her. “I think the blood is rushing to my head.”