by Kiersten Fay
“They’ll be here.” Cale had no doubts on that. The only question was: would the crew be intact?
“You’re pretty confident,” she mused.
“I know my brother.”
“Sebastian, right? He’s reliable then?” She turned impish. “Does he kiss better than you?”
“Don’t know, never kissed him. Your sister would know better than me.”
“Really?”
“Aye, you’d have to ask her. But, my guess would be no, since there are no words to describe mine.”
She flushed, and he could see she was trying not to smile. “That was a gross exaggeration.” She turned to lean her elbows against the railing, giving him an arch expression.
He moved in closer and placed his hands on either side of her. “Is that so?”
“In fact, thinking back, I’d say it was somewhat mediocre.”
“Mediocre?” He scoffed.
“Almost forgettable, really.”
He lowered his head menacingly.
Unperturbed, her chin tilted up till their mouths were just inches apart, her gaze daring.
“There is no way it was forgettable,” he insisted, barely brushing her lips with his.
“I don’t know? I think I might need a reminder.”
Cale knew he should walk away before he gave in to the little vixen. The only edge he should be stepping over was the edge of the balcony, expending his excess energy on another, much wider, perimeter check.
He was almost ready to do just that, but her eyes fired bright amber, and that siphoned the last of his reason. He gripped her hips and perched her on the edge of the railing. Triumphantly, she scissored her legs around his waist, pulling him close.
Her lips were as soft as he remembered—warm and giving and sweet. Her nails crawled over his scalp, and all he could think was how they would feel raking along his back.
He lifted her with his hands firmly on her backside and went in search of a way inside the cabin, only to be stopped by a hard wall.
They weren’t going to make it to a bed.
Kyra couldn’t catch her breath. Her heart felt like it was trying to burrow out of her chest. Reason told her to end this now, but she kissed him back with a kind of desperation that was incomprehensible.
He pressed her harder against the cabin as their tongues danced, their breaths mingling. A low, rumbling sound escaped him that drove her further into the frenzy.
Pinned as she was, with her legs tightly around him, he no longer needed his hands to keep her in place and found his way under her shirt. One hand trailed up her side and breached the lining of her bra, finding her pert nipple with his thumb. The other wrapped around the nape of her neck to hold her steady as he ravaged her mouth. When she pulled back for a breath, he moved his lips to the place on her neck that drove her wild.
“Cale,” she whispered on a sigh, meaning to regain some lucidity.
His only response was to reclaim her lips and roll his thumb over the most sensitive part of her breast, kneading the soft flesh with the precision of an expert. A quiver of pleasure numbed her mind, and she held him tighter.
There was no stopping this. She found she didn’t want to if she could. Since their first kiss, she’d been unable to chase him from her mind, and now she had him. A small part of her suggested she might not be able to handle her quarry, but the thought was banished when he ground his hips into her core and began to shimmy off her shirt.
“Not here, Cale,” she managed.
“Where?” he rasped.
Her mouth was too occupied to respond for the moment. Her shirt dropped to the floor and he started working on her bra strap, freeing her as he kissed his way downward.
“Bedroom!” she squeaked.
His hands returned to support her and the wall fell away. Still connected in a heady kiss, they moved a short ways, and she heard him fumbling for the sliding door handle. A few seconds later, they were inside.
“Whoa!” Zoey’s voice brought Kyra’s mind out of the fog. She pulled away from Cale and turned to Zoey, who was propped against a pillow on the bed with a book in her lap. Her face was understandably shocked.
“Wrong room,” Cale muttered, and then stepped back out onto the balcony, taking Kyra with him.
They soon found Kyra’s room, but the interruption had succeeded in cooling her blood enough for her to think straight. Cale’s, however, still seemed red-hot as they crashed onto the bed.
Cale,” she said in an even tone, pushing on his shoulders.
He stilled and looked up, meeting her eyes.
“I think we should take a breath for a moment.”
The only disappointment he showed was a thinning of his lips. Then, with a sly smile, he rolled them both so that she was straddling him. He placed his hands behind his head and shamelessly ogled her. “Go ahead,” he muttered roughly.
She laughed, climbing off of him and crossing to her closet to retrieve a shirt. After slipping it on, she replied, “I think we should take a breath in our own rooms, player.”
Cale sat up and scrubbed a hand down his face, as if trying to focus. “I’m going to need more than a breath.”
Cale entered his room, begrudgingly admitting that she was right to have put on the brakes. He really had no self-control at all. How could she make him lose himself with nothing but a look?
She more than just clouded his judgment; she invaded every corner of his mind and brought it to heel.
Just as last time, pain had erupted inside him, transforming into burning spikes that furrowed through every vein. It seemed to originate in his head and work its way down. A lengthy, ice cold shower did nothing to ebb either the fiery sensation or his lust. His shaft was still impossibly stiff. Pain aside, which really was more of an annoyance, all he wanted to do was return to her room and take her on the soft bed until pleasured screams echoed off the walls. She had wanted that as well. So why had she denied them both?
Didn’t matter. For the best, he reminded himself.
Through the night, his dreams were plagued by images of Kyra writhing under him while he touched her freely, tasted her as he wished. In his dream, her welcoming arms eased him as no other could. But his desire for her was a betrayal to his true mate, and the dream became a nightmare. Velicia stood over him with disgust in her eyes, her tears scalding. Kyra yelled something at him that he couldn’t hear, and the silence made him panic. As if born of mist, a Kayadon appeared and cut her down with some invisible weapon.
He awoke with a start and an urgent need to do a quick perimeter check. He sat up and took a few long breaths. At least the nightmare reinforced his determination to avoid all physical contact with Kyra.
Shortly after leaving his room, however, it became apparent that wasn’t going to be a problem.
She was gone!
Chapter 10
Ethan paced behind the bar, his thoughts in turmoil.
Jade stood at the other end, mixing piss-poor drinks and flirting with anything that had two legs and a dick. The girl was insatiable. He was rather surprised with himself that he’d never taken her up on any of her offers. He supposed it was because of that demon witch. Some part of him, an inner instinct of sorts, sensed that he would never have gotten near Sonya if he had messed around with Jade. Though he didn’t know why, exactly, he assumed that.
Perhaps because she’d been a fucking virgin!
How was that even possible? She wasn’t much younger than he.
Well, he thought, she sure as hell wasn’t one now.
He cringed at the memory. He had not been gentle. How could she let him take her so roughly without warning him?
Just after she’d cried out, he realized what he’d done. He wasn’t used to being surprised. With his magic, it rarely happened, but he’d been so taken aback that he’d run out of there with only a surly comment, though he can’t remember now what he might have said. Most likely something unkind.
“Ethan,” Bertok greeted and took a seat
at one of the empty stools.
Ethan nodded. “Your usual?”
“Aye, but double it.” Bertok slanted a glance down the bar where Jade made a show of pushing up her bosom. “It’s got to be nice working with that, hm?” he mumbled.
“Yeah,” Ethan replied, not hiding the disdain in his tone. “Real nice.”
Bertok just raised a brow. Ethan set to mixing his drink order and tried to focus on anything but the female who normally stood in Jade’s spot.
Her attitude in the hall still had him reeling. How could she dismiss the whole thing as nothing? The stubborn female must be hurt by what happened. Or at the very least, disappointed. But, headstrong as she was, she revealed nothing.
“Hi, Bertok.” Jade sauntered over and leaned her elbows on the bar, displaying her cleavage.
“Sweetheart,” Bertok replied with a curl to his lips.
Ethan rolled his eyes.
The morning Jade had strolled in and declared herself his new coworker, Ethan had been livid. Sonya hadn’t even bothered to inform him in person. Of course, that was the point, wasn’t it? She was determined to avoid him—and after the incident in the hall, it was clear he should be doing the same. That would be in everyone’s best interest. In fact, if he were smart, he’d catch the first shuttle out of here. However, he wasn’t about to run away like a coward just because he was afraid of one tiny, stubborn demon girl. A sexy, beguiling, demon girl.
A girl who openly hated him.
Yet…if that were true, why then, had she displayed the telltale urge to claim him as her mate? Surely she didn’t want that, evident by her hasty retreat.
Still, he was sure of what he’d seen. Those fangs were not the result of a demon on the Edge.
The memory resurfaced and, for the thousandth time, he tried to analyze her reaction. She’d turned horrified, with a sickly green washing over her as she’d tried in vain to cover the small show of fang.
Why did that bother him? He should be just as appalled. Was appalled.
He would never entertain the idea of mating with a demon. The very notion was abhorrent. Insulting. But she should be so lucky. What was her problem with pirates, anyway? It’s not like he’d done anything to deserve her detestation.
He ground his teeth.
Holding her and her family captive on his asteroid base didn’t count. That had been for caution’s sake.
I took advantage of her when she was vulnerable.
He stifled a wince, telling himself that she had lured him into that situation. But had she really? Hadn’t he manipulated her in every way he knew how, capitalizing on his knowledge of her kind? There were only so many excuses he could make, but he couldn’t lie to himself. He’d known she’d been in great need that day. Had recognized the signs and used her own nature against her.
Again he wondered why she hadn’t warned him she’d never known a man. Had she been that lost to the moment?
Guilt stabbed the pit of his stomach.
Once again, he reassured himself that he’d made amends on that score. At least in the way demons often agree with—through blood.
Why was he even thinking about this? He didn’t need her forgiveness, or her approval of his previous lifestyle. For the most part, living as a pirate had been a facade—a three hundred and fifty year facade that had changed him completely, sure, but still, a means to an end. It had been the only way to ensure the book got into the right hands.
To survive in his guise, he had been ruthless. He carried memories of things he’d just as soon forget, but he would not be made to feel ashamed for actions he’d been forced to take during that time.
He loathed admitting a part of him wished to go back. Back to his base, his cutthroat existence. Back where he had the respect he deserved—if only to escape the hate-filled glares of his dark haired temptresses.
A temptress who was increasingly invading his every thought.
* * *
Kyra pulled up to the curb and jerked the shifter into park. “Stop insinuating, Zo,” she complained. “Nothing happened…mostly.”
In the passenger seat, Zoey just continued to snicker and roll her eyes.
“I stopped it before it went too far.”
“If that’s true, then you’re insane,” Zoey replied, stepping onto the sidewalk.
The small town offered a few touristy shops along the main street. They glanced in windows as they passed by, heading for the bank where Kyra would create a new account and deposit money for Zo; just enough to get her by until the offshore accounts were finalized.
Since, supposedly, her time on Earth was short, Kyra recycled one of her old identities for Zoey’s use. There was just a little tweaking to be done, easily accomplished through the power of the Internet, if one had the know-how.
She and Zoey had left the cabin early this morning. The drive had taken a few hours, and by the time the business was completed at the bank, it was a little past lunch time. Upon walking back to the car, they decided to stop at a little sandwich shop and claimed a table in the farthest corner.
Just as they received their food order, Kyra observed that Zoey’s good humor had fizzled out. “What’s the matter?” she asked.
“It’s just going to be so weird once you and Cale are gone. You know, now I have irrefutable evidence of alien existence, yet no one but the crazies would believe me. I kind of hope this so-called ship never comes. I’ll be all alone if it does.”
“Alone, maybe. But rich as hell,” Kyra encouraged. “You’ll be able to pay people to believe you dined with the gods on Mount Olympus if you want them to. You’ll be able to travel anywhere. Take your mom’s ashes anyplace on Earth.”
Zoey nodded, but didn’t return the smile. “Thanks for remembering to bring her urn, by the way.”
“You’re welcome.” After a few bites of her sub, Kyra asked, “Where will you go?”
“I have absolutely no idea. I guess I should get far away from here.”
“That would be best.” Kyra nodded, suddenly very worried for her friend. She struggled to keep it off her face though. Zo needed confidence and reassurance right now. Anything else would only add to what must be an incredibly stressful situation. And it turned out, Zoey was nearly as good as Kyra at disguising her true feelings. Or so Kyra assumed. “After about seven years, if not less, they’ll most likely close the missing persons case, especially with no family to argue.”
Unless, she secretly added to herself, the missing persons case turns into a murder case, with Zoey as a possible suspect.
Zoey recited her new name, “Kyra Marshall. How will I get used to being called that?”
“Well, just imagine that you are the most awesome person in existence, and that should help.”
Zoey rolled her eyes and laughed. “I guess Kyra Marshall has one heck of an ego on her.”
Kyra shrugged. “Not as big as Kyra Okora.”
They laughed and then proceeded to finish their meal. After a short silence, Zo said, “What about you? Where will you be going?”
Kyra frowned. Wormy fingers of dread slithered up her spine. So much had happened since meeting Cale and learning that her family still lived, but she hadn’t truly allowed herself to think of it. She certainly hadn’t come to terms with it. The idea of leaving Earth had been a dream for so long, that it no longer felt real. In the back of her mind, it was impossible to compartmentalize.
She looked up at Zo and answered, “I suppose I’ll be returning home to Evlon, but what I will find I no longer know.” She shrugged as if it didn’t really matter, though every time she thought of home, anxiety assaulted her. “I can tell you what it used to be. It used to be so full of life. Vast forests where massive trees covered much of the land, with trunks thicker than the redwoods of California. Most our cities and towns were built around them. It looked closer to what the sixteen hundreds here on Earth had to offer.”
“Ah, that clears it up for me. The good ol’ sixteen hundreds.”
Kyra
ignored the sarcasm, feeling a pang of homesickness. It had become habit not to think of things like home and family. It only ever hurt to do so. And in some cases it caused an overwhelming sorrow that often manifested through her gift. Yet talking about it with Zoey felt almost therapeutic. “My world was ruled by magic. All different kinds of magic. It was in the air and soil, in the people themselves.”
“Is that what the Kayadon are after?”
Kyra paused and tilted her head in consideration.
Zoey took a sip of her soda before clarifying. “Cale said his planet was completely destroyed by them, but it sounds like they’ve been squatting on yours. Why else?”
It was an intriguing theory, and at the moment made a lot of sense, but all she knew of the Kayadon, thus far, was that they were hideous to look at. She’d be sure to ask Cale about it later. Was it possible he knew more than he was saying? Just one more thing he was keeping from her?
“It’s something to consider, I guess,” she finally replied.
On the way back to the car, they stopped in a little souvenir shop. Kyra had spotted a small metallic necklace shaped like a heart in the window. It doubled as a vial meant for liquid or sand. She suggested Zoey get it for some of her mother’s ashes, adding hesitantly, “Is that too Angelina-creepy?”
“No, it’s a great idea,” Zoey asked, “That way I can keep a part of her with me. We should get something for Cale, don’t you think?”
After scouring a few more shops, they found something they both agreed on and then started the trek back to the cabin. Kyra continued to offer advice on the best places to visit, and her personal favorite parts of the world to live. The wonders of the world should be seen, of course, and Zoey now had the means to visit them all ten times over, but there were so many breathtaking patches of land that continued to elude tourists.
“First things first,” Zoey pronounced. “I’ll need a full body massage by a big handed, beefy guy with a sexy accent. Jean Mc-something-or-other. He doesn’t even have to speak English.”
