Kindred of the Fallen (27 page)

“What’s their goal? To rule the world?”

“Possibly, but my employer is determined not to let that happen.”

“Who do you work for?”

“A great man named Ravich. He wants to purge the world of these monsters and uplift humanity by curing disease and putting an end to war. He’s helped me a great deal. I was once very sick, but he saved me, took away my pain, made me better.”

“If these things are real, the world needs to know. Why haven’t you exposed them?”

“Ravich wants to handle things differently. These monsters are entrenched everywhere. Their warriors can tighten their skin to form a type of armor. Ordinary bullets can’t penetrate it and steel can’t cut them; think of an armadillo when defensive. We’ve had to develop specialized weapons that can disrupt their kinetic energy. Exposure is a last resort for Ravich. If that ever happened, the death toll for humanity would be staggering. He doesn’t want that and believes there is a better way to deal with them.”

“How?”

“Trust takes time to build, Evan. Once you’ve proven yourself, I’ll share more. For now, you need something to eat. Then we can see how dirty you’re willing to get in order to have your precious Serenity back.”

His pulse quickened, all of his senses fully fired up. He’d do anything, absolutely anything to get her back.

Chapter Twenty

Serenity awoke to the peaceful sight of Cyrus, eyes closed, and her heart sang. His body and face were perfection. He had somehow grown more handsome and divine overnight. As if sleep were the sculptor, whittling away any hint of a defect, defining the curve of muscle with crisp precision, leaving a flawless god beside her.

With a feather-light touch, she grazed his cheek, down his neck, across his luscious collarbone. Even the gentle rise and fall of his chest was glorious. Her body was sore in places she never thought possible, as though she’d used new muscles, the delicious ache from passion.

After camping out in his room until hours bloomed into days, forgetting about training, making love and only breaking to eat, lusty hunger still burned, flowing through her in pulsating rivulets down to the sweet spot between her legs. She wanted to have him inside her again.

She caressed his stomach and bit the chiseled flesh of his shoulder. She swung her leg over his thigh and brushed his cock with her knee. His member jerked, and grew long, thick and stiff in response. She brushed her nose along his neck.

His warm skin smelled of cardamom and fresh baked goodness. His breathing shifted, the pace quickened. He was awake, even though his eyes were shut. She corralled her wild mane and smoothed it back.

“What are you thinking about?” she wondered.

He stretched and put his hands under his head. “Pancakes,” he said in his velvet voice.

“Pancakes?”

“I’m hungry. I love pancakes and eggs.”

Serenity sat up.

“What?” he asked, opening his eyes.

She shrugged. “It just sounds so ordinary and there’s nothing ordinary about you.”

His hand followed his gaze to the tattoo on her stomach.

She studied his face as he ran his fingers delicately over the flower as if it could really cut him. Evan had hated the tattoo and never understood what had possessed her to get it.

“Out of all the tattoos you could’ve chosen, why this one?” His thumb traced the curved lines of the petals.

“For as long as I can remember, I’ve had this design etched in my mind. I must have seen it somewhere. I love the look of it. The idea that something so fragile could also be so strong, something so beautiful could be so deadly, intrigued me. I’ve drawn it a hundred times and it never fails to captivate me. Does that sound weird?”

“Not at all. In a way, I think it fits you.” He smiled dreamily. “Are you hungry?”

She nodded and nibbled his lip, then kissed him. He pinned her beneath him and kissed her neck, up to her earlobe, and bit it gently.

“Pancakes can wait,” he whispered.

He crushed his mouth against her lips. Desire spread through her, saturating every pore. She didn’t want foreplay. All she wanted, all she craved, all she needed was him—without delay.

She rolled on top of him and sat up. He smiled, running his hands from the swell of her breasts to her stomach, and fastened his palms on her buttocks. She swiveled her hips, bringing his erection to full attention. As she leaned over and grazed her nipples on his chest, her hair brushed his face.

“It’s hard to believe you went two hundred years without doing this. I can’t imagine two hundred and forty-six years of celibacy.”

Jerking upright, he disentangled from their embrace and rolled her away. He put his feet on the floor and turned to stone. She searched his face, unable to decipher the expression marring his countenance, but the rigidity of his body, his sudden withdrawal, made her heart contract.

“What’s wrong? What did I say?”

“The time you spent with Evan, the nights you spent with him, when you allowed him to take you as he pleased,” he clarified through a tight jaw, “was it like this?”

Her heart plummeted to her gut. “No,” she uttered, at a temporary loss for more words. She sat up, covering herself with the sheet. “I didn’t mean to imply it could compare.”

Her relationship with Evan had been a mere earthly connection where their bodies had touched. It wasn’t even in the same league as what she shared with Cyrus on any level.

When Cyrus touched her, desire fluttered in her skin and pumped through her blood. Their union was transcendental. Carnal delight was only one facet of their multidimensional bond. He was her sun and moon, wrapped into a new kind of celestial body that dominated her universe. Being in his arms was the closest to heaven she’d ever get while she lived.

Looking at his face, she suddenly felt
unclean
and ashamed for giving Evan her virginity like a consolation prize for her heart.

She slid onto his lap and put her head on his shoulder. His body was unyielding. She pushed her legs in between his and kissed his neck.

“When we made love it felt like the first time I’ve ever been touched. Sex with Evan was—”

He snatched her by the arms, shaking her. “Do you think I want to hear what you experienced when another male had you?”

As he hopped out of the bed, she fell off his lap and slipped onto the floor.

Fear gripped her and lay siege to her guts, wringing her intestines into a pretzel. She jumped up and grabbed his arm to stop him from leaving. “You know what it was like when you first touched me. The first time you kissed me,” she whispered, “I wanted you to take me right then.” She pressed into him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “You know what we are, what you mean to me…how this feels.”

She caressed his cheek with a trembling hand. He wouldn’t even look at her. “Cyrus? What came before us doesn’t matter. When you made love to me it was as if all I had ever been faded away and in your arms, connected to you, I’d been reborn and made anew.”

On her tiptoes, she stretched to kiss him, but he remained impervious. Her heart quivered. “Everything that came before you, before us, is dust and ash.”

He tossed her onto the bed, the weight of his body bearing down on her. He captured her wrists and held her hands above her head, keeping her trapped.

“Say it again.” His voice rumbled through her soul, powerful as thunder.

“Everything that came before
you, before us
, is dust and ash.”

He seized her lips with such force it stilled her heart. She surrendered to his hands, arms, the savage passion of his mouth. He pushed her hair from her face and gazed at her. His eyes brightened.

Relief crashed over her and she smiled. He kissed her neck, sucking hard on her throat and worked his way down to her breasts.

The red cell on the nightstand rang. Groaning, he drew back.

“Let it ring.”

“Duty calls, love. I have to answer.”

Deprived of instant fulfillment, she wilted, wondering if duty would always come first.

Cyrus flipped open the phone. “This better be good.”

“We’re out, about to euthanize one with the dark veil,” Spero said.

“Why are you disturbing me? It’s just the dark veil. If you’re short a hand, call Abbadon.”

“The one with the dark veil, she’s an oracle. She wants to speak to you in person.”

Cyrus threw his legs over the edge of the bed. “Is she from Herut? Does she know me?”

“She’s from Aten. Looks like she’s been on her own away from the collective for a while. She says her suffering can’t end until she sees you. I think you should come.”

“I’ll be right there.”

Serenity stroked his back, kissing down his spine as he hung up. “You have to tend to me first and satisfy my needs before you go.” Her fingers caressed his collarbone and pecs.

He wanted nothing more than to stay buried inside of her, smelling her, tasting her, loving her all day and night. “I can’t. I have to go now.”

She settled back on her heels. “Is the dark veil as dangerous as blood rage? I mean, is there a chance you could be hurt?”

He glanced at her over his shoulder, half smiling, wanting to ease her concern. “No, I’ll be perfectly safe. One warrior could handle it with an arm tied behind his back.”

“Then why do they need you?” she asked as her face lightened.

His mind went blank as he stiffened, uncertain what to say. First the seers from House Herut were having visions of him finding Serenity and of great darkness coming. Now an oracle from Aten wanted to speak to him before dying. Whatever the seer had to say, it wouldn’t be good. And he didn’t want to worry his mate or overburden her. He needed to protect her.

“The person asked to speak with me before the others end her suffering. I’m curious to hear what she has to say. Don’t worry. I won’t be in any danger.” He rubbed her thigh. “I only have time for a shower. Come and join me,” he said, sidestepping the topic.

“How is this going to work? We sleep in here and then in the morning I scurry awkwardly down the hall in a robe to my room?”

“I would never allow you to scurry. Too undignified,” he said seriously.

He got out of the bed and strutted into his office. “Are you coming?”

She crawled out of bed, holding her arms in front of her as if self-conscious of her nudity.

How would she fare in the collective at House Herut? They didn’t walk around in the buff, but the body was a shell, nothing to be ashamed of or to hide.

Standing by a side wall, he pointed to a small handle, before pulling it to open a door. Unless one’s focus was directed to the lever, it blended in with the charcoal gray wallpaper and the silvery patterns of tribal markings from indigenous cultures that had captured his eye over the years. The markings made a simple graphic design that suited his office.

Facing a second door, he pushed on it gently and it opened to her room. They walked through and he closed the door behind them. The outline of the door and handle were seamlessly hidden in the decorative stencil pattern on her wall.

“Very clever,” she said.

He pulled her close, drinking in her beauty. With her birthday around the corner, he’d have to do something special to mark the occasion. She deserved something lavish and unexpected. “We’ll keep the door open so it’ll feel like one gigantic room,” he suggested. “We can even move your clothes into the other closet.”

“No, I think I prefer my clothes in the closet without the compartment of weapons.” She smiled and tugged him toward her bathroom.

“My shower is better.”

In his bathroom, she gaped at the shower large enough for four people. Three body jet showerheads were attached to each of the surrounding walls. He turned on all of the valves and four ceiling mounted rain showerheads, sixteen inches wide.

The back wall had the same decorative mosaic pattern as the shower, tiny tiles of gold, bronze, amber and silver. Soaking wet, he beckoned her to join him.

Chapter Twenty-One

Serenity held Cyrus’s hand as they walked downstairs to the kitchen.

“I’ve asked Talus to take over your combat lesson,” he said.

She groaned, dreading the session.

“I don’t like the tension between you two. Maybe you could use this as an opportunity get to know her better.” He stopped on the landing in front of the stained glass of the two lions. Colored light filtered in through the design, splashing his face in gold, red and blue. “We have tickets to the symphony opening night next week. Abbadon loves it and we go every year when we can. I’d like for it to be an enjoyable evening, where we can go out as a family, free of strife.”

Behind his smiling face, he hid his concern, but she sensed the worry slithering through their energy stream. She kissed him, wanting to hold on a little longer. “I’ll see what I can do.”

As they continued to the front door, hunger bubbled up in her stomach.

“Ask Mrs. Carter to make you a batch of her special blueberry pancakes,” he said. “When you’re finished, meet Talus in the gym.”

“Are you sure you don’t have time to eat? I know you’re starving.”