Gods, he couldn’t wait.
Shoving to his feet, he lifted her onto the desktop, thrusting paperwork out of his way. Her legs snapped around his waist, and she ground her pussy against him. He shuddered, unable to put together a single coherent thought. It should have worried him, but he was well beyond worry. Only the drive for orgasm mattered now.
He reached between them to rip open his fly, and she pressed her sex against his hand, seeking any kind of friction she could find. Her face was flushed with desire, her eyes heavy-lidded, and her breasts rose with each jerky pant she sucked into her lungs. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and right here, right now, she was all his. The knowledge pushed him even closer to the tattered edge of his restraint.
“M-Merek, I need you.” Her hands pulled him closer, her fingers balling in his shirt. “I need you inside me. Please. Right now. I need you.”
His zipper gave way to his vicious wrench, and within seconds he had his cock deep within the slick sheath of her pussy. There was no slow possession this time. He rode her hard and groaned with every movement he made within her, her inner muscles milking his cock until he thought his skull would explode. “Chloe.”
Her fingers moved to cup his jaw, and he dove forward to kiss her. He devoured her, drowning himself in the taste, scent, and feel of her. His hips bucked hard, and he fucked her with all the finesse of a teenager in the backseat of his daddy’s car. She didn’t seem to mind. Her hands tugged at his hair, her teeth nipped his lips, and her legs continued to wring his hips as she arched with him. She screamed and sobbed into his mouth, her slim body going rigid as she came for him.
The world around him dimmed as the last fetters on his control ripped away, and he plunged into her pussy again and again until he was roaring his orgasm, jetting his come deep into her hot, sleek sheath.
So long. So fucking long since he’d had this. It wasn’t as good as he remembered.
It was better.
He dropped his forehead to hers, panting for breath, not one thought able to form in his mind. All he could do was rest against her, breathe in her sweet scent, and wait for reality to come back and bite him in the ass. It would sooner or later, he was sure.
Unfortunately, it was sooner.
The phone on his desk blared a ring that made them both flinch. His office phone. At work. In the police station. Reaching over, he plucked up the receiver. “Kingston.”
Chloe wriggled beneath him, but he leaned more of his weight on her to keep her in place as Cavalli’s smooth voice sounded in his ear. “Good, you’re there. Is Dr. Standish with you or is Grayson still working her over?”
“No, I have her.” He met her gaze, and she stilled, but his dick surged inside her. Her breath caught, and he clenched his jaw to stop a groan.
“Good. Peyton and I will be right there.”
“Fine.” He hung up the phone. His eyes closed, and he swore steadily under his breath, braced his arms on the desk beside her and pulled his cock from her body. They both moaned at the slide of flesh. “Fuck. How the hell did you do this to me, Chloe? I’m at work.”
A snort erupted from her as she sat up, slithered off the desk, and pushed her skirt down. A few spellwords, and any wrinkles smoothed from her clothes; her hair fell in perfect waves around her rosy cheeks. “I didn’t do anything to you. You did the doing.”
He grunted, but didn’t argue. The same spell straightened his own clothes, and he shoved his fingers through his hair, then went to fetch her panties and purse from where they lay discarded on the floor. Fighting the urge to tuck her panties in his pocket, he handed her things to her.
A knock came on his door, and with a quick wave of his hand, he released the sound dampening spell and sent a quick whirlwind of air through his office to filter out the obvious scent of raw sex in the small room. If he could smell it, he had no doubt that a vampire and a werewolf would be able to.
He slid into his desk chair and scooped up the paperwork he and Chloe had scattered before raising his voice. “Come in.”
Chloe took a seat opposite him and crossed her legs, which drew his gaze and made it linger on her lithe, bare limbs. He wanted them around his waist, on his shoulders, anywhere as long as he could get inside her. He’d just had her, and he wanted her again. Still.
Fuck.
Swallowing the curse, he forced himself to focus on the men stepping into the room. Except for the blade-sharp edge that no operative could truly hide, there was little the two had in common. Luca’s dark, exotic features contrasted with Peyton’s all-American good looks. Sandy brown hair, blue eyes, tall and muscular physique, but not so much that it caught attention—the type of guy who could fade into the woodwork if he chose. His gaze swept the office, took in Chloe and Merek in a single glance. A chill went down Merek’s spine, and he didn’t doubt that with that single glance the werewolf could describe in minute detail everything he’d seen, smelled, or sensed about the room and the people occupying it.
A dangerous man.
It should have relieved Merek to hand Chloe over to competent agents, but it didn’t. He clenched his jaw until it ached as he listened to Luca explain Chloe’s situation to her, the need for her to give up her life, her family, her friends, her career because the knowledge she had in her head made her a risk to everyone she knew.
She grew paler and paler by the moment. Her eyes went wider and wider with shock, her fingers twisting the strap on her purse, and Merek’s insides twisted right along with it. Those haunted hazel eyes turned to him for confirmation of this nightmare she’d found herself in, and he could only give her a single, sharp nod.
Gods, but he wanted to pull her into his arms and protect her from this. His fingers fisted on the arms of his chair listening to Cavalli’s smooth voice lay out why she had to go into protective custody until they captured Leonard Smith—though Merek noted the vampire failed to mention how many years they’d been unsuccessful in doing so, and that they might continue to be unsuccessful for years more. She might never reclaim the life she had now, might never see the people she loved again.
Every instinct told him not to let her go, to keep her with him, but he ignored them. The possessiveness wasn’t something he should feel, and he shoved it aside.
Her dazed, terrified eyes met his just once more before she was pulled out the door, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that if he let her go now, he’d lose her forever. She would be gone, ended. Dead. His gut clenched, twisted into a cold, hard knot.
The tension inside built and built until it snapped.
Cursing her, cursing himself, he grabbed his jacket and slammed out of his office. The captain would have his ass if he interfered with a case that was no longer under the MTF’s jurisdiction. Hell, his partner would have his ass for fucking up like this, and that was a lot more dangerous than pissing off the captain. Neither thought slowed him down as he peeled out of the station to tail the FBI agents. Chloe.
He shoved a hand through his hair. “I have lost my fucking mind.”
Worse, he’d lost control.
3
How had she ended up in this place? A few hours ago, she’d been at work in her pristine lab. An hour ago, she’d been a murder suspect. Now she was a victim in the making with a terrorist who wanted to do to her what he’d done to Damien. It just couldn’t be real. She was dreaming. Having a nightmare. Having a psychotic break. Her research had finally driven her around the bend. Chloe stared blankly at her surroundings for a moment before anything even registered.
The safe house was small and dark, with a faint dankness in the air that said the Pacific Northwestern damp had set in and begun to rot the wood somewhere in the building. It was nothing like her beautiful, airy home.
She swallowed, already hating the gloom of this place. She wanted to go around and turn every lamp on. Instead, she glanced at the men who dominated the living room. Peyton’s nostrils flared, the closest thing to emotion to cross his face in the hour since sh
e’d met him. He didn’t smile; he didn’t talk much; he just looked over and summed her up in a coolly competent way that made her really, really glad they were on the same side.
What Peyton lacked in gregariousness, Luca Cavalli more than made up for. He had the gift of gab and had kept up a light stream of conversation she could tell was meant to put her at ease. It didn’t work because she could also tell that, in his own way, he had summed her up and reacted accordingly as quickly as his werewolf agent had. She was being handled. She wasn’t sure which method she liked less, but at the same time, she didn’t feel threatened by either man.
Perhaps because Merek had given her that one tiny nod to let her know these people were telling her the truth, that she could trust them to look out for her.
At the same time, she knew she’d feel a lot safer if the detective were with her instead of the agents. She frowned, shook her head to clear it. She didn’t know Merek Kingston any better than she knew these men. Sex was not the same thing as knowing someone. She’d had a lot of sex with Damien, and look where that had ended up.
The thought made something huge and horrible expand inside her chest. She couldn’t breathe; she wanted to curl up and cry. Damien was dead, Ivan was gone, and her life was over. Her world had been shaken up and tossed out again like dice in a cup. She had no idea what was beyond the next roll.
“This is just temporary, until we get you transferred somewhere else.” Luca’s gaze met hers, and she guessed she was supposed to feel reassured. She would have if it had been Merek. She pushed that notion away. “Somewhere outside Seattle, but we will keep you safe.”
Butterflies took wing in her belly, fluttering madly. She hoped that meant another big city. She didn’t want to leave the people and the comforting brightness and energy that swirled around her when she was in a booming metropolis. She dragged in a breath. There was no need to worry about that now. They might ship her to New York or Atlanta or somewhere else just as frenetic.
“I understand. Thank you.” She gave Luca the best smile she could manage. She understood they’d try to keep her safe, but whoever Leonard Smith was, she knew he’d already managed to break into a Conclave-owned apartment building and kill two full-grown vampires. That didn’t say much for her chances, but she didn’t voice that opinion aloud. Tempting fate just seemed like a bad idea at this point.
She stepped through the doorway from the small living room to the even smaller kitchen. Maybe looking around would make this all seem more real. At the moment, she felt like she was having an out-of-body experience. She was still moving around as if everything were normal, but her mind was floating about a foot above her body, looking down on some dream she wasn’t quite attached to.
The tile was cracked on the floor, and the faucet dripped steadily into a big, old-fashioned enamel sink. A door on the wall adjacent to the entry she stood in led to what must be a backyard. It was half glass, and it wasn’t until that moment that she noticed every window had the blinds closed so no one could see in. The place was ugly and worn down, but if it was safe, then she didn’t care. She pulled in a calming breath. “Before I leave town there are some things I’m going to need.”
Peyton spoke for the first time, his voice richer and mellower than she’d have expected. “It’s best if you detach yourself from everything here.”
“Trust me, you want my aunt to know I’m going into protective custody, or she will tear this city and then the rest of the world apart looking for me.” Again, she didn’t need to mention who her aunt was. Millie Standish was a byword in the Magickal community, and not just in Seattle. “Also, I need my familiar with me. I won’t leave her behind.”
Neither man looked happy, but both of them nodded their agreement. Luca slid his hands into his pockets, his lips twitching ever so slightly. “I suppose I have the dubious honor of letting Mildred Standish know her niece’s life is in danger. Wonderful.”
“One of the perks of being the boss, boss.” What could almost be called a smile crinkled the corners of Peyton’s blue eyes. “We can send someone to gather your things for you, Dr. Standish. Make us a list.”
“One more thing, and this one neither of you can do for me.” Chloe twisted the strap of her purse between her fingers. “I need to call my godson and let him know what’s going on. Unless . . . he’s already in protective custody, too?”
“That would be Alex Nemov, correct?” Luca’s shoulders rolled beneath his expensive shirt.
Peyton’s gaze sharpened, cutting from her to Luca and back again. Something she couldn’t quite decipher moved behind his eyes, but it was gone so fast she thought she might have imagined it. “Ivan Nemov’s son. Werewolf.”
“Yes, and now that his dad is missing, he’s my responsibility.” Being a godparent was a sacred vow in the Magickal world, reinforced by spells that bound a person to care for the child in his or her parents’ absence. Or death. She locked her gaze with Luca, letting him know that this was nonnegotiable. She would never break her vow. “Alex needs to know what’s going on. Maybe he knows where his dad went.”
The big vampire sighed. “We’ve thought of that, and we’re handling it.”
She firmed her lips. “Well, it doesn’t matter what you’re handling. His sole remaining parent is off the grid, and that makes him my responsibility. If you haven’t picked him up yet, then I need to. He interns with me at Desmodus after school. He’ll know something is wrong when both his father and I aren’t at work.”
Luca looked her over as if deciding how much he was willing to tell her. “He didn’t go to his internship today. In fact, when we tried to pick him up from school, he wasn’t there.”
Her heart stopped, literally skipped two whole beats as terror she’d never wanted to feel punched through her.
Oh, gods.
“Alex doesn’t shirk his duties, which means he’s missing, too.” Cold dread gripped her belly, and she clutched her purse closer, fumbling for her cell phone.
“We can’t know yet that anything has happened to Alex. We have agents still looking for him.” The vampire gentled his voice, handling her again. This time she found it infuriating.
“Really?” She arched an incredulous eyebrow. “You know him well enough to know where to look?”
Irritation crossed Luca’s too-handsome face, and she thought she saw a flash of fang when he answered her. “We spoke to his teachers, his friends—we found out his favorite hangouts. We have people waiting at those locations in case he shows up. We have other people out looking.”
She snorted, sat down at the kitchen table, and continued digging around the bottom of her purse for her phone. Her heart still beat too hard, worry digging roots deep inside her. “One of his favorite hangouts is my house.”
“Your house is already being watched. We’re handling this, Dr. Standish. Try not to worry.” Luca settled back against the cabinets and crossed his arms. Peyton propped his shoulder against the doorjamb to the living room. He just watched them both and said nothing.
“Yeah, I don’t have a care in the world.” Her hand closed around the hard plastic of her phone, and she yanked it out of her purse. Since neither man tried to stop her from making the call, she assumed that meant they were okay with it. Punching in the speed dial code for Alex’s cell, she hunched her shoulders away from the agents. “Excuse me.”
She didn’t bother getting up and going into another room. Vampires and werewolves both had exceptional hearing. If they wanted to hear her, she wouldn’t be able to hide her conversation from them. The phone rang and rang, and her insides twisted tighter and tighter with each one. On the fifth ring, she knew it was about to kick over to voice mail, and her throat closed. What the hell was she supposed to leave on the message? Call me? Your dad’s missing? Why weren’t you at school or your internship? Are you okay? I love you, kiddo? She wanted to know all of those things, needed to say every single one of them.
“Chloe?” Alex’s voice was rushed and breathless, the phone fu
zzing with every quick exhalation.
She squeezed the phone so tightly the plastic squeaked. “Alex! Oh, gods!”
He wheezed out a laugh. “I’m okay. Don’t worry.”
“Too late. I’m worried.” Her free hand clenched on the edge of the table until her knuckles whitened. “Where are you?”
“I’m being followed.” The sentence was spoken so calmly and matter-of-factly that she blinked for a moment while his words processed. This just couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t.
“You’re being followed? By who?”
“I’m not sure.” What sounded like pounding footsteps echoed in the background of the call. “It’s a male wolf, and he’s been tracking me all day. My senses tell me he’s a danger to me.”
Now Luca straightened away from the counter, his gaze glinting. “We don’t have any male wolf agents looking for him. Two female wolves, but Peyton’s the only male wolf on my team.”
“Who was that?” Alex’s sharp question jerked her attention back to him. Right. Wolf-boy’s hearing was just as sensitive as that of the agents before her.
“He’s from the FBI.” She swallowed, gripping the table so hard it hurt her hand. “Alex, your dad’s disappeared. The person tailing you might have something to do with it.”
“Yeah, I went by the house, and it’s been gone through by at least two groups of people. Lots of muddy scents, lots of bad vibes creeping down my spine. I’ve never had to deal with anything like this before, Chloe.”
The vulnerability and tension in his tone scared the shit out of her. Alex was a rock-steady kid—mature, calm, and collected when most boys his age were prone to fly off the handle. If he was afraid, there was reason to be afraid. Her muscles trembled in reaction, but she forced herself to keep her composure. Alex needed her now. He was in danger.
Pulling in a deep breath, she let it ease out. “Okay. Okay. I need to know where you are. I’m going to send an FBI agent to get you. He’s a vampire. His name is Luca Cavalli. Six foot four-ish, dark eyes, short black hair, little goatee on his chin. Good-looking, if you go for that type.”
Embrace the Night Page 5
