by JL Madore
The car jerked to life and they started their ascent. When the whirl and clunk of the elevator doors announced their arrival, Ronnie stepped out on the children’s floor as if he hadn’t spoken a word.
He cursed and followed. The nurse's station was just up ahead, but she veered off to one of the two doors on the right. The sign on the doors read ‘Family Room.’
She ushered him into a six-by-ten space decorated with a plush green loveseat sofa, a smoked-glass end table, and a box of tissues. Turning the metal dial on the lock changed the status of the room from vacant to occupied. She clicked on the wall sconce and turned. “You want to help me?”
“What can I do?”
She tossed her coat and eyed him up and down. Opening his jacket, she reached up and shoved it off his shoulders. “If you object, let me know. If not, I want your pants down and your mouth shut.”
He blinked, not sure how to respond. His body responded to her demand, but his head had trouble with it.
“Don’t give me that look.” She reached around to the small of his back, then handed him his gun. “I told you. There are things that happen to you and things that happen because of you. You only control the second of those and I’m sick of the first.”
“But we’re in a hospital room.”
She popped his button and unzipped his fly. His cock sprung free as his jeans dropped to the rubberized floor. “It’s a grieving room. No one will disturb us.”
With a firm grip on his hips, she shoved him backward and pushed him down to the sofa. Sinking to her knees before him, she gripped his thighs and made room for her to push in between. “For months, I’ve fantasized about going down on you. I need this, but you have to want it too. In here, you’re not a half-angel and I’m not dying. In here, I’m just your coffee girl, who wants to retake control of a piece of her life.”
In all the years, his mind had been blown too many times to knock him stupid, but this tiny human had that power.
Her candor shocked him. Her gaze held him captive.
He exhaled. Her offer held every kind of hells-no, sucking him down the rabbit hole. An addict giving in to the needle. A desert animal pining to slake its thirst. Whatever the fucking metaphor, he was losing his mind and considering something both morally and criminally stupid.
The only answer here was no.
“Fine, whatever you need. Have at it.” Well, allllrighty then. It was clear which of his heads currently held the reins. The grateful smile that beamed up at him convinced him that his life really had turned on its ass.
Was she thanking him? Crazy.
His erection kicked in her hand as she licked her lips. The hunger and focus in her gaze had him undone. Leaning in, her lips flowed over his wide, swollen crown. Her mouth was hot and the pull of her suction, gentle.
His eyes rolled closed as he swelled, growing thicker and longer. “God, Ronnie . . . your mouth.”
He gritted his teeth and leaned back, giving her more access to his hips. The feminine moan that vibrated against his flesh shot straight down his spine and tingled in his balls. Sucking on him, root to tip, slowly, inexorably, her cheeks hollowed.
The tenderness melted him, wholly unaccustomed as he was to anyone giving a shit about his pleasure.
His pelvis pushed forward and eased back, her teeth scoring his shaft with just the slightest pinch. Breath rushed from his lungs. He gripped the seat cushions with white-knuckled force and let her have her way.
He fought the urge to fuck her mouth, holding back as she gave his sac a squeeze. A guttural moan ripped from his chest as hot desire raced through his bloodstream. Rolling his hips, his desperate fingers gripped into her curls, holding her against his pelvis.
Her head bobbed under his palm, as she jacked him with a tight grip while sucking and stroking his crest with her mouth. His breath hitched, and her gaze flicked up. Damn. Her eyes were lit from within, an erotic hunger beckoning to him. He broke the gaze and watched himself slide in and out of her lips.
Yeah, that didn’t help. He rasped for breath.
She worked slowly with her mouth, teasing her fingers against the sensitive flesh just behind his masculine weights. “I can’t hold off much longer,” he panted. “How do we finish?”
“Just like this,” she said, sucking hard. “I want all of you.”
His body convulsed and arched toward her. He gripped the cushions again, so he didn’t hurt her. Pleasure was far too tame a word. Ecstasy didn’t even come close.
“Fuuuck!” His head dropped back, his breath tightening in his chest. “More . . . oh, yeah, more if you can, baby, please.”
She could and did.
Exploiting her talents—and they were considerable—she gave him a pleasure that verged on pain. Sweet agony. He’d never complain. He panted and twisted, a graveled moan rumbling from his chest. He was fighting his release, but she worked at him hard and fast. No mercy.
His hips jerked convulsively when her teeth raked over his engorged head.
“Ah hell,” he hissed, his voice deep. “I can’t hold—”
Danel’s entire body shuddered, his balls tightening in the most erotic sting. His abs clenched as he tensed and fought the urge to pump. His shoulders pressed back, his hips thrust forward. Her name tore from his lips as the detonation of his release began.
Ronnie took him deeper, firmer, rougher. His cock throbbed and with every wrenching pulse, she devoured him, consumed every drop of his silky, slick fluid.
The sounds he made, and the muttered, breathless praise would have mortified him if he didn’t know that in a few days, these moments would be his memories and his alone. Ending this was going to gut him, but there was no other choice.
His beast’s need to claim her overwhelmed. But he couldn’t. If he did, when she died, he’d be unhinged. Dangerous. A dark angel without his mate was a volatile liability.
No. All they had were these moments. And that was more than he deserved anyway.
Ronnie licked him clean and eased back. She pulled a couple of tissues and wiped her mouth. Her lips were full and pink, her cheeks flushed.
He’d only partially softened and gestured to his cock resting against his abdomen. An urge to spend some quality time in a straddle and stroke lit him up. “I’m capable of round two if you’re interested. I’m happy to return the attention.”
“Danel . . . we’re in a hospital. How inappropriate.” She managed to keep a straight face long enough to make him wonder . . . but then she giggled and picked up their coats. “We still have one more condom from the other night, right?”
He straightened himself and tucked things back in place.
“Save that for later. For now, I feel better. Thank you for allowing me to seize the day.”
He nodded and shrugged on his jacket. “You’re welcome?”
Kyrian waited, careful not to move as Cassiane pulled herself back together. Night sweats had woken him enough times over the years for him to recognize the disorientation swamping her. He knew the groundless, floaty feeling where you searched for some bit of normal to focus on, until the chill passed, and your quakes settled.
Sometimes nightmares belched up shit that was better left buried, exhumed baggage you’d locked down and hidden away for good reason. If Cassi needed a minute to compartmentalize her mental horror film after her time with the Serpentines, he’d give it to her.
After a long span of quiet, she exhaled and offered him a weary smile. “I apologize, love. I didn’t mean to cause such a commotion.”
He shook his head. “Have you met my brothers? I live for commotion.”
She rolled onto her side and checked the alarm clock. It was barely after eleven a.m.. They’d only turned in at six. The way the golden light of morning hit her from behind, a luminescent glow outlined the soft curves of her body and the russet tones in her long, cascading hair. She stole his breath.
She eyed his clothing and her smile faded. “You weren’t sleeping? Where are you going?”<
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He fingered a strand of hair and brushed the silk of her cheek. “Zander and the twins had to take care of something, and Z doesn’t want Austin left on her own too long. I said I’d take her to the ring for an hour with the horses, and then see if Drina is around to check her out. His beast rests easier when she’s had a check-up.”
Cassiane managed a smile, her eyes sad and kind and so understanding. “Yes, of course, you should go.”
He shook his head. “No, love. I want you to come too. You haven’t been out of the hotel in three days, and I want to show you the horse Austin bought me. He’s a beautiful beast . . . and we’ll saddle you up one of the others. It’ll be fun.”
Her lips wavered and he thought she might smile. She didn’t. “Riding horses is something you and Austin share. I’d only be intruding.”
A week ago, Cassi brimmed with words and thoughts of hope. He could feel the confidence humming inside her. Now, it was gone. He wanted to help her find herself again.
The need of it soured in his stomach.
“Nonsense. Aside from my duties, there is nothing in my life that isn’t yours to share. Austin’s a dear friend but you are my wife. My life.”
She frowned, laid back down, and rolled away from him. When she pulled the blanket over her shoulder and closed her eyes, he knew the discussion was over.
“If you change your mind, call me, and I’ll come back to get you.” He reached over and pressed his lips to her cheek. “You are my heart and breath, Cassi. My conscience and my very essence of being. You are my soul, sweetheart. Please don’t forget that.”
Danel checked that everything was buttoned and battened before he unlocked the door of the family room they occupied. “Where to next? I’m assuming you won’t make things easy on me and simply go home.”
She winked. “Who said life should be easy?”
Leading the way out, she continued up the hall to the nurses’ station. She exchanged a few hugs and even more ‘Welcome home’ greetings, and then tipped her head toward the open doors of the children’s floor. “Do you mind if I go say hi to the latest crop?”
The nurse sitting at the computer behind the desk shook her head. “Go ahead, hon. It’ll be a nice treat for them.”
Danel followed along as Ronnie visited the three wards, bed to bed, chatting with the kids. She made them laugh, telling them embarrassing stories about duct-taping her G-tube when it leaked everywhere at school. She listened when they confessed how sad or scared they were. She honored each patient by sitting there, being truly present in their lives.
“You didn’t know any of them?” he asked as they headed back toward the elevator.
“No, but I get where they are. Being terminal sucks but what sucks more is when that’s all everyone around you sees. This is happening to them. They have no choice. They’re still the same as every other kid, in every other way other than their health.”
Danel’s heart clenched. Ronnie, so skinny and fragile, was a warrior in her own right. One of the strongest people he’d ever gotten to know. The only human he’d ever gotten to know . . . by choice.
Frustration and rage tornadoed inside him. His time living hand to mouth as a slave in Susa had been bad. His years living as a scribe apprentice had been worse. By then, he’d been a strapping young man with the allure of the angels and no rights of his own. Like she said, sometimes things happened to you.
Well, things did happen to him. A lot of things.
“You really should talk about it.”
Danel glared down at Ronnie and realized that he’d stopped walking and was blocking the revolving door to the hospital entrance. He needed to get his head in the game. They were in a public place. She’d been targeted three times for kidnapping. “Forget it. I’m good.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Not your business.”
“Nope.”
“Stop trying to fix me.” Danel gripped her elbow and pushed his way outside. The heat of the day stole his breath. He stormed over to the black Bentley waiting at the curb and waved Kang back inside. He opened her door for her and she stood in the opening and frowned. He adjusted to block any line of sight to her.
“I’m not trying to fix you, Danel. I just want to help take away some of your pain.”
He shrugged. “Pain is all I have, baby. You can’t have it.”
Ronnie suffered through the first half of the ride home. The silence between them offered no distraction, nothing to think about, other than the truth of what Dr. Scathardi told her. Thirty percent kidney function. Dammit. Her fucking antibodies were so high, they were burning right through the second transplant. She hated the idea of a third—assuming there was even a match. She hated the reality of dialysis even more.
Her tears were wholly unwelcome but with the toxic level of anxiety filling the air, she lost the strength to fend off the world. Swiping under her eyes, she let the heat of the sun warm her face. The one thing you could count on, living in the south, was that February didn’t freeze the flesh off your face.
After a long while, she scooched forward and opened the cooler. “You want a beer?”
Danel broke his fixed stare from the bustle and flow of rush-hour traffic and accepted the bottle. His gaze narrowed on her red eyes and she turned back to grab a drink.
“Did I do that? I’m an asshole, I know. My brothers will all back me up on that.”
She shook her head and cracked the seal of the lid. “Nah. I’m good. Reality just sucks sometimes.”
He nodded. “I wish I was better at this . . . for you. I’ve never spent time with a woman before. I have no skill at it. I’m pretty sure I’m ruining things.”
She took a long drink and screwed the lid back on. “You aren’t. I shouldn’t push. Slay your demons however you want, Watcher. You know best. I’ll try to keep my opinions on mental health to myself.”
“It’s nice that you care.”
She took his right arm and brushed a gentle touch over the healed stub of his wrist. “Everybody has scars, Danel. For some, they’re on the inside; for others, they’re outside. Don’t wrap yourself up in your pain. Acknowledge the hurt, grieve through it, and then leave it behind you.”
“That easy, is it?”
She sighed and sat deeper in her seat. “No. It’s the hardest thing ever. Luckily, you’re a big, strong soldier and you know how to take a—”
The car jolted to the side, the windows exploding in a shower of shards. The force of the collision sent her head and arms lurching against the interior as her seatbelt tightened and stole her breath.
Danel’s arm came up with bruising force, pressing her into the seatback. Fury darkened his entire visage. The grind of metal on metal screeched all around them until the Bentley came to a violent stop.
Danel unbuckled his belt and drew his gun. “Ronnie, get on the floor.”
She fumbled with the buckle, her fingers trembling, but managed to follow the order.
“How many?” Danel asked, popping the door.
Kang cursed, and half fell out the driver’s side. “Four in the truck that hit us. Two bikes coming up hard on our ass.”
Heavy gunfire rang out and Ronnie tucked down as small as she could manage. Despite the grunts and groans of men getting shot and the smack of fists to flesh, she kept her head down.
Danel would take care of this. Danel took care of these things every day.
Wrenched from the floor by her hair, Ronnie cried out, agony screaming through her head as she fought and clawed at the fingers gripping her. Twisting and kicking, she felt a sharp, raking fire ignite across her leg. Dragged through the open window of the car, the vulnerable flesh beneath her cotton pants was torn by the jagged edges of broken glass.
She would check it later, she promised herself. First, she needed to survive this. Where was Danel? He wouldn’t leave her to be abducted.
She searched, finding him through her tears. Was he dead?
“Danel!” she screamed. A horrible pre
monition swamped her. She saw him, his broad form sprawled on the pavement, bleeding. Her breathing hitched. She gasped for breath.
“Danel!” she screamed again.
A violent jerk spun her around. She blinked, dizzy. A hard, heavy fist slammed into her face. The world went black.
“Follow those motorcycles, Phoenix. Don’t lose them.” Zander jumped from the rental car before Phoenix even tapped the breaks. The scene was something out of a Hollywood action movie, two cars mangled and smoking with bodies strewn across the two-lane country road, and men in black fatigues shooting at the heroes—outnumbered, outgunned, and injured. Except, in this real-life movie, those heroes were his brothers.
His tuck and roll absorbed a bit of the impact, but the sting of road rash let him know he’d gotten chewed up good. He nailed two demons taking cover behind a Suburban and took them down with one-shots to the back of the head.
“Didn’t see that coming, did ya, motherfucker?”
Seth was right behind him and took out two more.
“Clear on the right,” Zander called, searching and securing the attacker’s vehicle.
“Clear on the left,” Seth added, booking it up to where Kang had pulled D to cover.
“How bad is he?” Zander asked, dropping to his knee.
Kang winced, his face torn and bloody, his shoulder visibly dislocated. “Got his head rammed into a truck. He’s out cold.”
“And you?”
“Got my cherry popped by those red-metaled bullets you warned us about. Gotta say, Z, I’m not a fan.”
Seth opened the guy’s jacket and took a look-see. “I’ve got entry but no exit. We need to get it out.”
Zander eyed the metal mangle and cursed. “We’ll get nowhere with those cars. Can you dematerialize, Kang?”
The warrior shook his head. “Not a chance.”
Shit. They couldn’t dig around for a bullet in the field and the hemorrhaging properties of these weapons liquified his bowels. “Never again” had become their motto after Tanek was taken. Never again would they lose one of their own.
