by Jamie Magee
She wasn’t even sure talking to King would distract her enough but at the moment he was the only friend she had at the Boneyard.
Right as she turned in to find him, see if he would go on some long walk so she wouldn’t feel that rush Shade was surely about to embark on, she saw Shade begin to walk toward the house, alone.
He made her so nervous sometimes. At first she thought it was because she couldn’t see his eyes. The tense jawline and the outright warrior build he had made her that way, but she was sure it was just him. Something he did to her. And he was different. She didn’t care what Star said about everyone thinking that about who they had their eye on. Shade was way different—he was electrifying. There was something about his energy. All she knew was she could feel him deep inside even though he had never really touched her.
She didn’t move as he approached, and as he passed he didn’t bother to look down at her. The sight of her seemed to make him even more pissed about the night he had just battled.
Shade looked like hell. His dark blond hair which reached his shoulders was windblown, had splatters of blood all through it. Most times he had a thin goatee—it was still thin but it was longer now. Patches of what would become a beard—which couldn’t decide what shade of blond it wanted to be—lined his strong jaw line. Blood was there, too, and Gwinn wasn’t so sure it was his. His jeans, his shirt, everything but the kut on the right side of his body was ripped, dirt and blood both staining what was left of his clothes.
When the door slammed behind him Gwinn jumped, even felt her eyes well with anger. That man was downright impossible. The last thing she needed in her life was having to deal with someone that had mood swings as sharp as his. That’s what she told herself, over and over, as the long moments ticked by.
Yet her feet turned and slowly followed him.
She tried to talk herself out of going to him with every step but before she knew it she was on the second floor, walking toward his room.
From outside the door she could hear him cussing. When she didn’t hear anyone respond to those curses she opened the door.
Shade had stripped, gotten in the shower, and washed all the blood away. The small rocks from the gravel he’d slid across were already making their way out of the entire right side of his body.
Now he had a towel wrapped around his waist and was standing before the mirror with a smaller towel on his shoulder, trying to push that bullet out of his flesh. It was moving to the surface but burned as it did so.
That’s when he saw her standing just behind him. At first he thought it was an illusion, a waking dream, his mind telling him to rest so his body could heal. She fit perfectly yet stood out in his lair. Fit perfectly because in his waking dreams she was there often. She stood out because he never brought a girl in here, ever. If he couldn’t find a spot around the garage he’d take one of the main bathrooms in the house. Not in his space though. Never.
A room where his kut never stayed on long and his shades left as he opened the door.
Instinct told him to yell, to tell her to get the hell out, but the words wouldn’t come. Those damn sundresses of hers. It didn’t matter how loose they were, they still clung against her body. This one was short, barely reached mid-thigh. Walking by her outside took all the willpower a man could be asked to have.
“I want to help,” she said in small voice. One that backed up his idea that this girl was far too innocent for him.
“Need to ask King if that’s okay?” Shade bit out.
He hated that guy. How he could walk up to Gwinn, barely say anything and have her walk off with him. Who the fuck was he, that’s what he wanted to know.
“I don’t need his permission. He’s a friend.”
“Could have fucking fooled me,” Shade said in a low, menacing tone.
“Sit down,” she said with more authority than he had ever known her to have. It shocked the hell out of him. “You heard me,” she said, squaring her shoulders.
“I got this. It will come out on its own—it just likes to take its time and likes burn the shit out of me as it does,” Shade said as he reached for the lotion on his counter and moved it across the little burns on his side.
One of the first things Reveca does with her immortals as soon as she turns them loose is tell them how to handle their wounds. New skin is always dry and the lotion helped it heal faster. It took the burn, which mimicked a new tattoo, away.
Gwinn had stepped up to him. Her delicate hands clasped his arm then guided him to sit on the closed toilet seat.
His entire body tensed. She was so close, and when she was this close that emotion, that sweet exhilarating emotion of hers, completely surrounded him. Even when she was out cold he could taste it around her. Hell, he’d devour it. It was the only energy he had ever taken in that didn’t stain his soul in some way. He never saw memories with it, sensed what caused it—the emotion just was. It reminded him of waking from a dream. You couldn’t recall where you just where or where you had to go—you were just there.
Keeping his head down wasn’t helping him. Her bare thighs were right there, brushing against his leg. He bunched the towel around him more on his lap, trying to hide the reaction his body always felt around her; the rush, the desire to claim.
It wasn’t like the other fucks were in his daily diet before she showed up. Not even close. Those girls, they were just bodies. They were a sin he used to mask the hell he had seen.
Feeding on vile energy or even just the shit he saw when the Sons hit the street, would sit with him— almost make him feel sick. It took him awhile to figure out how his head worked, but he knew that after he fed, that person’s bad deeds would sit at the forefront of his mind until the next one. Then it would fade back to a memory he didn’t have to think about unless he wanted to. If he found a way to cover his last feed’s exploits it would make his life all the easier.
He had to place his own dark deeds before theirs.
Fucking girls did that. Taking a girl in a tight room, a girl that you knew didn’t give a shit about you, just your body, your status with the Sons—and letting go, making her scream with pleasure…that did two things for him. One, his own sin came to the forefront in his mind, washing away what was there. The other allowed him not to think—to let his body find a release and when it did he found a calm, one that would last him until the next time he rode out.
He never fed off those girls, breathed in the pleasure he was giving them, not anymore. In the beginning he had done that by mistake, and he hated it. It connected them, made that girl somebody. He didn’t want a somebody—didn’t need one. Not only that, in the haze of him breathing in he could see everywhere they had been, which made the cold, cheap, pleasure they were sharing even colder.
Shade closed his eyes as he felt Gwinn’s hand run across his shoulders; not the wound, the tattoo of the crow with its wings spread, each feather representing a member of the Pentacle Sons who existed long before the invention of the bikes they ride. The ones here and gone…there were a lot of feathers, a lot of detail.
“So beautiful,” she whispered.
He wasn’t so sure about that. He saw pride, honor, and loyalty when he caught a glimpse of it in the mirror, and he knew what had been done and would be done to keep that honor and loyalty.
She gasped when she pulled the towel from his shoulder.
“It just burns. Immortal, remember?”
“Easy to forget,” Gwinn admitted.
He reached up. He didn’t mean to graze her hand but he did, and that one touch made him wish ten towels were across his lap to hide his body’s reaction. “Just leave the towel on and push from the side, it’s almost out,” he said before he let his hand fall then his head. He crossed his arms over his lap, halfway wondering how obvious he was being. “It’s okay,” he said when she just stared at his shoulders, barely letting her hands touch the towel.
He looked up at her. “You’re not going to hurt me. I won’t let you.”
&nbs
p; Those few words seemed to weigh the room down with a dense energy.
“I wouldn’t,” she said with a crack in her voice.
He only nodded once and closed his eyes as he felt the pressure of her hands on each side of the wound. He grunted as she pushed, it was clear to him that she was gaining strength as an immortal, which was good. She was too fragile in his mindset.
“One more,” he said with a rasp.
That time when she pushed he felt the bullet slide out. He let out a satisfied sigh.
Gwinn had taken the towel away, saw what was inside of him, and wondered how he was sitting there like she had pulled a splinter from him. She used the towel she had to wipe what blood was there away then let it fall to floor as she went for another. By the time she ran warm water over it and turned back to his wound it was all but closed. She still moved the damp cloth over his skin and nearly smiled as she inhaled his joy, the peace that came to him.
“It hurt your feathers,” she said taking the towel away and reaching for the lotion.
“It won’t be the first time it’s had to be touched up.”
She hesitated as she moved her lotion-filled hand over his shoulder. “This happens a lot.”
He looked up at with a furrowed brow. “Shit happens every day. It’s just part of it.”
Gwinn dropped her eyes from his.
“That scare you? All this?” he asked, knowing she was scared. It wasn’t a horrible fear. If it was he wouldn’t be as calm as he was. It was a fear of the unknown.
“I’m just trying to understand it all.”
His gaze dropped and he noticed how her legs were still brushing against his and had the slightest tremble to them, a vibration that most would not see. “Have you shifted yet?” he asked, as he felt her start to focus on the rocks that were in his skin along his arm. “That what King is helping you with?”
“No.”
Shade looked up. “It’s been weeks—you sure you haven’t done it by accident and don’t remember?” he asked as he looked at the golden rays in her hazel eyes.
Echo had told Shade all about shifting one night when they were comparing their transitions. He told him how he would shift and never know it, how he had to pick up on the vibration when it started and either use it or tell it to go to hell. Echo said it was painless for the most part but it wiped you out, messed with your head.
“I don’t think that’s me. What I came back with,” Gwinn said as she moved lotion over his skin once the tiny rocks were gone.
Shade pulled his brow into a perplexed fold. “Then what?”
She took her time answering, mentally trying to figure out how to explain it. “I crave energy. King told me I was starving and that’s why I passed out again after the raid. I used too much.”
“What?” Shade said, trying to catch her eyes. He couldn’t figure out why she was nervous. “Energy is everywhere. There is no way you could have been starved—what kind of bullshit is he feeding you?”
Gwinn bit her lip then let her eyes connect with his. “It’s only one kind. An emotion. I have to hunt it. But I can’t become obsessed with it.”
Shade didn’t understand anything she was saying, but the outright fear he felt and saw in her eyes about this part of her had him believing she was serious. “Reveca know this?”
Gwinn nodded. “She and King figured it out.”
“Which one?” he asked, knowing that whatever kind of energy she needed he was going to find it, make sure she always had a source. She was fucking starving? Right before his eyes? He couldn’t comprehend that.
“Exaltation…extreme joy, the kind with a rush.”
Shade lifted his brow as he adjusted his legs once more. He knew exactly how to find that emotion, more than few ways, actually. But considering his bike was in the middle of major repairs narrowed his options of feeding her down to one—one that he knew she was too innocent to handle.
“You’re not hungry now are you?” he asked, not being able to hide the rasp in his deep baritone voice. His mind was having too much fun thinking of all the ways to make this girl really happy.
Gwinn blushed, did her best to focus on the task at hand. “I don’t think. Still figuring it out. Earlier I felt pretty wiped out—anxious, but it got better.”
“How?” he asked after a moment. If she said King he was going to lose his calm. He knew he would. He couldn’t turn off his jealously, even if he wanted to.
“You came back.”
A burst of energy hit him square in the chest for no reason at all, and his entire body went tense.
Gwinn was regretting her last words but felt like she needed to explain or at least not freak him out. “I think I sensed the danger you were all in, felt it, but when you came back I knew you were fine. I’m not used the fact that we’re immortal…that people come back.”
Shade nodded once but kept his head down. He didn’t want her to see that purple glow in the blue of his eyes, to know that the very idea she felt connected to the Sons. Even if it was more than just him, it gave him the hope she was going to be around for a while.
The further her delicate hands went down his side, each time the tip of her finger would pull the tiny rocks then slide the lotion across his flesh, he felt himself growing more and more anxious. When she knelt, when her legs framed one of his, he tensed.
Thinking it was the pain, Gwinn’s gaze rose to meet his. He looked away, trying to hide his guilt, moved his right arm over his lap. Her gaze dropped to that gesture. He saw a blush kiss her cheeks before she went back to the task at hand.
She looked up at him as she reached the waistline of the towel.
“It’s fine,” he said with shake of his head, trying to tell her there wasn’t any gravel there. That was mostly true. At best he could only feel a piece or two. “They’re not deep, basically already out.” His hand ran down the side of his leg, the sound of tiny rocks hitting the floor was heard instantly. Shade still squinted though, not from the rocks but from his shoulder. The damage deep inside was going to take a few days to get over.
Her hand landed on his chest to push him back. That innocent gesture was enough to make them both hesitate. Whatever current was flowing between them seemed to amplify all at once. A high, one that was calming but raced her heart came over them.
Gwinn was the one to move away first, and with her quick gesture she dropped her hand and somewhat accidently it slid across the erection he had been trying to hide.
If Shade ever had a doubt that she was innocent, the look in her eyes right then would have proved the fact. Her gaze was full of shyness, curiosity, maybe even a dare, but fear was there too, a fear that said she knew she was a kitten purring up to a lion.
With a fast, sharp intake of breath she looked away, reached for the lotion, and filled the center of her hand. Then she reached up and glided her hand over his upper arm. He sighed and closed his eyes as that vibration of her touch reached deep within and soothed the pain.
He never opened them when her hand moved down his arm and to his side once again, even when she passed his towel and slid down his leg. It was when her hand started to move up his leg that he started to bring himself out of the high he was feeling. He did his best to grip reality and realize her hand, this innocent, was gliding under his towel.
When his eyes snapped open, he found her stare heavy on him and felt her hand glide away from his leg as her gaze dropped. He knew what she could see, how his towel had slid down, threatening to reveal him completely. Right then she knew a breath of her touch turned him on. Hell, being in the same room did, but the point was now she knew.
What was blowing his mind was the fear in her gaze was all but gone; there was some shyness but what he saw the most was a curiosity and a dare.
He breathed in nice and slow, looking for memories in the emotions he felt around her. She was untouched, had messed around a bit here and there, all shy high school crap, but she was innocent. She’d never felt the best exaltation there was in
the universe. Which made him want her all the more. Knowing that if he ever did touch her, make her moan—that he could breathe in and know he wouldn’t see any man touching her but himself. The very idea of that was heaven.
He watched her as her eyes explored what she could see of him. When he felt her hands reach for the edge of the towel—felt it slide down—he knew he should have stopped her. He went to, but before a word could fall from his lips he felt her hand on him, warm and slick, gliding as slow as possible from base to tip. The smooth edge of her nail traced the wide tip of him before slowly gliding down, gripping more tightly this time.
When he let out a hiss her eyes lifted to his. He had no idea why his hands didn’t shake when he lifted them, why he looked so calm, smooth, and in control on the outside, because he knew on the inside he was anything but. Carefully he cupped her face. The hand that was around him tightened a bit more as it slid to the base.
Shade’s eyes searched the golden rays of hers, wondering where she came from, why she meant so much to him. He pulled her lips to his, breathed in before he folded the flesh of his lips against hers once again. The second his tongue wisped into her mouth, her hand began to move again, slow sweet glides. At the same time she was inhaling his kiss, nearly battling for some kind of control, even rising onto her knees.
He knew he was feeding her—knew she was inhaling the rush she had given him. The very idea of that stirred him—it unleashed the carnal side of him, the one that told him to claim her—protect her—provide for her.
Mine, was what his soul bellowed as he fed on the rush of her energy, the feel of her touch.
His hands fell down her neck, down her chest. The thin cloth of her dress hid nothing. He could feel the scorching heat of her flesh beneath it—the sharp peak of her nipples, how the curve of her breast fit the palm of his hand perfectly—as if it were made for him and him alone.
She was driving him wild, her hand and that tongue, how she would breathe in when he squeezed her chest.
