Killing Time (24 page)

Terror clogged my throat as I imagined what Cian would do to Koda if he had a clue how I…if he knew that I felt so…

Swallowing against the tears that wanted to come, I made myself think logically—a huge challenge with Koda’s warm hands slipping under the hem of my shirt and stroking my back. The slow, up-and-down caress was soothing and the feel of his skin on mine, with nothing between us, was deliciously intoxicating.

His care of me was inexplicable. Despite our growing feelings for one another, there was no escaping the suffering inflicted on his people over the centuries or that the bastards who’d created my kind had caused it. How could someone like Koda ever really get past that?

Besides, until I was clear of Cian and Althea’s deadly manipulation, I was the worst kind of danger magnet. Not to mention the bloodletting my own plan guaranteed. I knew Koda well enough to know he would do everything in his power to help me. But if I was honorable, if I was worth caring about, how could I put him in that kind of jeopardy?

His arms tightened around my waist. I pressed my forehead against his chest, breathing him in and out of my lungs. Forcing my brain to keep going, I had a sudden thought. If I made Koda hate me, could I save him from himself? Or would it make things that much worse for him? Would he someday be relieved to have dodged a bad situation by being shut of me? Or would my having hurt him cause the greater harm?

“Shh, Coyote,” he whispered as I trembled in his arms. “There are no traps here. Nothing to fear.” His hand under my chin lifted my face so he could kiss my cheek, then he let his lips trail down to nuzzle my neck. The breath sighed out of me at the delicious feel of him, the heat radiating from his body, the sense of his rising hunger, the scent of his interest.

Even the thought of hurting him was repugnant, making my internal debate absolutely irrelevant. I’d proven that to myself when I’d realized how easily Cian could use Koda’s well-being against me. And again when I’d brutalized the bitterns, making myself no better than the damn fae in order to ensure his safety.

My breath caught in my throat as the realization slammed into me. Koda’s life had become far more precious than my own.

He kissed me again, just over the spot where my pulse pounded, letting his teeth graze my skin. Shivering at the sensual feel, I closed my eyes to better savor it. He gently suckled my skin, the wet heat of his mouth igniting flames in my belly, and I went boneless in his embrace. A happy sound rumbled in his chest when I let my head fall back, giving him greater access.

My mind stuttered under the pleasurable onslaught, then returned to the internal debate that was driving me crazy…well, crazier, I amended.

Acknowledging my feelings for him was huge. Off-the-charts enormous since I’d never imagined anything like this for myself. Even the TV shows I’d watched had left me only perplexed, not wistful. It hadn’t occurred to me romance was even a possibility. But my never considering it for myself didn’t negate the fact that, somehow, these feelings had crept up on me. Humans labeled it “love,” but what did I know? Whatever the name, it sure didn’t absolve me in any way from doing the right thing. I should protect him from himself, help him to avoid the complications and peril inherent with my kind.

With me.

But
knowing
I should withdraw didn’t equate to actually
doing
it. Instead, I found myself pressing into Koda’s muscular chest and belly, my good arm rising to cup the back of his head. I caressed his cheek with mine, losing myself to the exquisite feel of flesh on flesh. He was like a force of nature shaped into perfect male form and the sense of his incredible strength, carefully gentled for me, made the tenderness of his hands that much more erotic, that much more magical.

Unbidden, a breathless sigh escaped my lips, drawing an answering sound from him. I turned my face, nuzzling along his jaw and reveling in the
now
, in this incredible moment. His hands moved to my hips, then slipped farther to cup my behind and press our lower bodies together. My knee rose, just a little, to bring me that much closer to the heavy erection straining the front of his jeans. He made a strangled noise and leaned into the contact, his hands tightening further to pin me against him.

“Koda,” I whispered, seeking along his cheek to capture his perfect lips with my own.

The kiss began tenderly, fed by breathless sounds and the increasingly rapid rise and fall of our breathing. Needing more, demanding more, I nipped his lower lip and was rewarded by his instant response. We kissed the way drowning people gulp life-giving air. Like one another’s touch and taste and feel were vital, as necessary for existence as oxygen.

The exquisite intensity of the moment spiraled up and up, taking me with it. I’d never felt so powerful, and yet so powerless, all at the same time. The world disappeared, my senses utterly overtaken by all things
Koda.

He pulled back the merest space to look down at me. His eyes were hot and hungry, his frantic breath fanning my face, his lips swollen from our kissing. “I burn for you, Sephti,” he whispered, his voice harsh.

Without words, I nodded fervently. Burying my face in the crook of his neck, I burrowed into his embrace, wishing I could get closer still. His arms felt so perfect, so right, wrapped around me. Nibbling my way back to his mouth, I kissed him again, reveling in the heat of our growing need. The way his nostrils flared at my scent, the frantic pounding of his heart, the little noises he made as our lower bodies began to move together fanned my own desire like gasoline on a bonfire.

Urgently wanting,
needing
to be closer still, I reached up with both hands, intent on twining my fingers in his luxurious fall of hair. The sudden movement stretched my left arm’s abused muscles taut over healing bone, drawing a hiss from my lips and making me flinch at the sharp pain.

Koda drew back. His gaze was fever-bright, his face flushed with desire. Squeezing his eyes shut, he worked visibly to get himself under control. “Sephti,” he croaked. Clearing his throat, he tried again, his voice steadier this time. “You’re not even half-healed yet,
wastelakapi.
” He went rigid against me and his breath caught, like he’d surprised himself.

Cradling my throbbing arm against my chest, my voice was as rough as his. “What does that mean?”

His cheeks colored. “It’s just…it’s nothing. Are you okay?”

Giving him a look that let him know I’d noticed his evasion, I nodded shakily. “I normally heal faster than this. Guess I took more of a pounding than I realized.”

“You’ve also been pushing yourself too hard.” He cupped his hand against my cheek. His broad, warm palm felt so good, I pressed into his sweet touch. “To heal, you need to sleep.”

At the reminder, I yawned hugely. “Seems I’ve heard you say that before.”

He made a rude noise. Taking me by the shoulders, Koda gently turned me around. “With appalling frequency, so do me a favor and stay healthy.” I heard the smile in his voice. “You know I hate to repeat myself.”

I snorted, letting him lead me over to the fire. He got the sleeping bag from the truck and was back a moment later. After he unrolled it for me and smoothed it out, I sat on the thickly quilted bag.

Koda chuckled. “It works better if you get inside.” He sat beside me, close enough that our shoulders touched. His eyes, still dark from passion, fixed on my mouth and he traced my lips with a fingertip. My indrawn breath drew a soft sound from deep in his chest. Reluctantly, he let his hand fall to his jeans-covered thigh. “You need to rest.” It seemed like he was reminding himself, not me.

Struggling to rein in my hormones, I pointed at my bloodstained clothes. “I’d make a mess of the inside.”

“I don’t care about that. The night is chilly.”

Feeling wicked, I murmured, “You could always lie here with me. To keep me warm. Then I wouldn’t worry about messing up your sleeping bag.”

His eyes flared with heat, then he swallowed hard. “If I did that, I wouldn’t be very focused on our guests over there.” He tipped his head toward the unconscious bitterns. “What good is a distracted sentry?”

I made a face, but didn’t press. In truth, I didn’t think I’d be doing much sleeping if I lay in Koda’s arms. And I wasn’t sure it was wise to take things further. Not when I was still so conflicted.

He read this in my face, as usual, his keen gaze missing nothing. Reaching to his right, he lifted a broken two-by-four and laid it on the small fire. I sensed a slight hesitation in him, then he surged to his feet, muttering that he’d be right back. A few minutes passed and he returned with something in his hands. Not quite meeting my eyes, he sat beside me. Almost shyly, he handed me the folded sweater he was holding.

“It’s not black,” he said, trying for diffident but not quite pulling it off. “But it’s clean. And, um, should keep you warm.”

I had the strong sense this meant a great deal to him, that his offering me his clothes was momentous. Rising to my knees, I eased off my mangled, filthy shirt. Hiding my smile at the sudden hitch in his breathing, I slipped his sweater over my head, careful of my injured arm. Stroking the silky fabric, I murmured, “I like green.” It felt incredibly intimate that I was wearing his sweater. “Thank you.”

He nodded and I swear he blushed. “It’s a good color on you.” His voice rough, he looked away. “When you stand, it’ll come almost to your knees, though.”

“Then I’ll be that much warmer.” Impulsively, I leaned forward and kissed him. He framed my cheek with one hand and kissed me back, tenderly, sweetly. Emboldened by the feelings churning through me and by Koda’s response, I lifted my head and looked at him from up close. His dark lashes lay against his cheek and he was frowning, just a little, as if in the grip of a powerful emotion. I brushed my lips against his, a butterfly’s contact, then touched our foreheads together, so close, we inhaled the same air. Sharing our breath like that felt…
powerful.

Against my will, a huge yawn cracked my jaw and I sank back onto the sleeping bag, covering my mouth with a hand.

His eyes opened and he gave me a soft smile.

I yawned again and stretched out. Watching embers rise from the flames, I mumbled, “Three-hour shifts?”

“Mmm.”

I rolled to my side to look at him. “Is that a ‘yes’ or are you blowing me off?”

He paused like he was considering not answering. At my glower, he said, “I’d rather you slept straight through. You’re injured.”

“You didn’t sleep last night and then you drove all day with a backseat full of homicidal bitterns.”

Koda rubbed his jaw, chagrined. “There is that.” I started to sit up, but he shook his head, so I settled back down. “I don’t like it, but fine. Three-hour shifts.”

Feeling like I’d scored a major victory, I smiled sleepily and closed my eyes. An unpleasant thought occurred to me and they popped back open. “A place like this…we’re not going to be visited by any of your rat friends. Are we?”

He started, slanting his eyes toward a dark corner. “Ah…no.”

I lifted my head and stared in the same direction. When I didn’t see anything, I studied Koda’s innocent expression with great suspicion.

“You’re burning your three hours of sleep-time, sentry,” he said.

Casting another quick look toward the shadowy corner, I lay back down. “No rats. Not even one.” Between the stable’s appalling conditions and the nasty places I’d taken refuge in since coming to the mortal plane, I’d reached my vermin limit.

He chuckled and put another piece of discarded lumber on the fire.

The exhaustion caught up with me and my eyelids lowered. I could’ve sworn as I drifted off to sleep that I heard the sound of tiny, scurrying feet, followed by Koda’s hushed voice delivering a soft reprimand.

I was sure it was more than three hours later when he woke me so I could take my turn. When I demanded to see his watch, he crossed his arms over his chest and blithely refused. His smug smile dared me to try to look.

Huffing, I vacated the sleeping bag so he could lie down. “Fine,” I said. “I just won’t wake you up for the next shift.”

He looked even more smug. “I don’t need you to.”

“No?”

He pointed at his head. “I have an internal alarm clock. I can wake up whenever I want.”

Grumbling, I poked at the fire with a piece of rebar I’d snagged from the floor. “Have our friends moved?”

He lifted a brow at my calling them friends. “Onas twitched about half an hour ago, so I reinforced the command for them to sleep. Unlike someone else I know, these two are properly susceptible to my directives.”

I made a face at him, drawing his warm chuckle.

When he stretched out on his back, using one arm for a pillow behind his head, my eyes drifted across his perfect form. The jeans encased his long, lean legs, the taut denim hinting at a body I yearned to explore. The narrow hips and flat belly rose to his muscular chest and broad shoulders and I imagined running my hands over all that tawny flesh. To again taste his enticing lips and nibble along the angle of his strong jaw, the inviting line of his neck. My fingers curled against the urge to delve into the luxurious fall of his midnight hair, knowing full well how amazing it felt. So thick and silky. And so soft, which was intriguingly at odds with his body’s hard muscles and the proud planes of his gorgeous face…

“Sephti?” he murmured in a husky voice without opening his eyes.

“Mmm?”

“If you keep looking at me that way, I’m never going to be able to sleep.”

My gaze traveled south. Taking in his condition, I blushed. “Sorry!”

“I’m not.” He turned his head to meet my gaze, his eyes hot and heavy-lidded. “Your hunger feeds my own. But when you lie beneath my body the first time, it will not be in a dilapidated, filthy warehouse with two unconscious bitterns nearby.”

I swallowed hard. “The first time?”

A slow, sensual smile tugged at his perfect lips and he closed his eyes. “The first of very many.”

The way he said it, with heat and need vibrating beneath his words, drew a shiver from me. I swallowed again noisily.