Kiss of Darkness (26 page)

“My people. My responsibility.”

“You aren’t responsible for everyone’s decisions.” She shook her head, rubbing her nose back and forth against his chest like a cat seeking solace. He stroked his hands up her arms, then moved around to her back and let her take what comfort he could give her.

“Do you let yourself get away with that?” she asked, curiosity in her voice but also almost teasing.

He could lie, but she’d know. “No.”

“Didn’t think so.” She finally sounded steady, like herself, and she pushed against him. His arms tightened around her.

“I’m okay. Really.” She took a deep breath, the action causing her breasts to rub against his chest. His reaction was predictable. “Thank you.”

He snorted. “Don’t. From now on I’m tying you to the bed at daybreak.”

She grinned. “You’ll spoil me. That could be fun.”

His hands slid down her back, pausing to cup her ass a moment before reluctantly letting her go. He was alive. She was alive. There was a future to look forward to, for at least another day. But with Winter as a mate, there would always be the risk it was the last night, the last moment to love her. She cupped his cheek with her palm.

Her eyes glowed, her love spilling out for him to catch. The wonder of it, the promise of more made him shiver. He could see by her slow teasing smile she shared the feeling.

“Don’t worry. I’m not planning on going anywhere,” she whispered, a hitch in her voice, eyelids lowering as she stood on her toes to brush her lips over his.

I wouldn’t let you.
He gripped the back of her head to hold her to him, but was gentle, tenderness filling him as he took her mouth. She sighed into his kiss.

I know.

The blissful moment was short-lived. She broke the kiss, retrieved her knives and took his hand, leading him to the doorway.

“Let’s go see what the damage is.”

In the square, Dupree was laid out on the ground. Winter approached him first, relief and joy lighting her face and filling Marcus’s mind. She spoke to the one tending Dupree quietly before moving on to Mitchell.

The lupine had teams hauling demon bodies to a large pile. There were gas cans waiting to set them on fire when the task was complete.

“Ben?” he asked the lupine. He’d been in Winter’s mind, knew the rogue hybrid was around somewhere.

“No sign of him.”

Winter scowled. “He was here.”

“Yeah. I saw him at the beginning of the fighting.” He met her gaze and added softly, “He’s rogue now, Winter.”

“I know. He must be here. Check the alley.” Marcus shared her memory, the demon’s attack against Ben. She’d seen him fall, had assumed he was dead, but couldn’t know for sure without a body.

Mitchell shrugged. “Sure. I’ve got both teams watching out for his body too.”

She noticed the other pile of bodies—the hybrids and lupines—the same time as Marcus did. He felt her remorse, her guilt like a punch in the gut.

Don’t. You couldn’t have stopped any of them from coming with you.

She nodded.
I know.
But the oppressive feeling of guilt didn’t lessen.

“It’s still hours till sunset, but we found a way up into a basement you should be able to teleport from. When this is done, we’re sealing all the entrances we’ve found.”

People were beginning to pour gasoline on the piles of bodies. Marcus saw the injured survivors being evacuated and two hybrids lift Dupree and carry him to an exit. Winter’s gaze followed their progress until a group of lupines appeared from the alley carrying the dead warlord’s body. She shivered and he pulled her close, into his embrace. For once she didn’t fight the comfort he offered. He wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or worried about that. The warlord’s body was tossed in with the other demons and someone struck a match. It was blazing in seconds.

“Nothing else we can do. I’m leaving Baron in charge of the rest of the clean up. Come on, I’ll show you that basement,” Mitchell said.

He let Winter go and took her hand, but she didn’t budge when he tugged it.

“I can’t leave until everyone else is out.”

Of course, she’d fight him over this. He was careful to conceal his true thoughts, but let her feel the weight of his exhaustion, the weight of his concern. Her reaction was instantaneous. She was afraid he wouldn’t be able to teleport back to the mansion on his own.

He was tired, but not that tired. He kept that thought to himself. He wanted her out of there and if that got it for him, he could deal with the appearance of weakness. She allowed herself to be led out of the square, into a short narrow tunnel and up a steep flight of stairs. In the basement, there was another flight of stairs up that the wounded were taking.

“Garage up top.” Mitchell answered his unspoken question.

Which meant daylight. This was as far up as he could go, but he didn’t feel the repressive weight of tons of earth over him anymore. He could teleport easily from here. He squeezed Winter’s hand.

“Ready?”

“In a sec.” She pulled free of him and approached the leaders she called the quad. He heard her quietly making arrangements for a debriefing in several hours, ordering them to make sure everyone checked in with Gia before attempting to get some sleep. Then she was back at his side, hand slipping into his. “Let’s go.”

He joined his mind firmly with hers, both envisioning the basement in the Order’s office building. Once there they took a moment to focus on the foyer in his house before willing their bodies to move from one place to the other. It was quiet when they entered and he didn’t give her the chance to walk into the dining room where the command center was. He picked her up and carried her upstairs to their room, into the bathroom.

After setting her down, he opened the shower door and turned on the water, adjusting the nozzles so the temperature was the way she liked it, blistering hot.

“Get in. I’ll be right back,” he ordered, not waiting to see if she’d obey this time before opening the door.

He stopped in the bathroom connected to his office and took the world’s fastest shower to get rid of the blood and gore from the battle. When he felt clean, he hurried to the kitchen hoping to find something cooked and ready to be served.

No one was in the room, but he found plastic containers of food in the fridge when he checked it. Pulling several out, he made two plates of sliced ham, potato salad and corn. He tucked a couple bottles of water under his arm and carried them upstairs, but sighed when he opened the door and set everything on the closest dresser top. She was already out of the shower, curled up on their bed fast asleep.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Dupree came to in the lupines’ lair with soft fingers stroking his face.

“He’s going to be okay, right?”

Kara’s voice. Kara’s touch. How long had he been out? The wound across his stomach felt fresh, sending lancing pain through his nervous system. Wouldn’t you know pain receptors wouldn’t be affected by the demon poison?

“He’ll be fine in a few days.” Mitchell’s voice, soft and coaxing and interested.

The demon in him snarled. No fucking way was that lupine getting his hands on Dupree’s woman. Any other time, he would have fought the fury, the possessiveness, but with him incapacitated she was defenseless. Somehow he managed to pry his eyelids open, managed to make his vocal cords work though his voice was no more than a croak.

“Kara.” He got his hand to work and motioned her to join him on the narrow bed, between the wall and his body. She climbed over him and though he still couldn’t move much, he felt it all. He felt every inch of her soft body as it slid over him. Couldn’t believe he didn’t have a raging hard-on.

Mitchell met his gaze and grinned. The asshole knew exactly what he’d instigated. “No worries, old friend. We’ll watch over both of you.”

With that parting shot, he left the room and closed the door behind him. Dupree froze. They were alone. He worked damned hard to make sure he was never really alone with Kara and for damned good reason. He tested his body, searching for sensation and control to return. Toes, check. Fingers, check. Feeling was rushing back into him. He would’ve sighed in relief, but she was lying right next to him, braced up on one elbow and staring at him.

“You scared the hell out of me,” she whispered, and he saw the terror in her eyes. For him.

“Then maybe now you understand why I refuse to let you go through the merging ceremony.”

It was the wrong approach to take, but hell, he couldn’t help it. Some of the poison was working out of his system but it obviously hadn’t vacated his brain yet. She glared down at him.

“You don’t get to make that choice for me, Dupree.”

“Yeah, I do.”

He stared back at her, willing her to get it. She shouldn’t be in his world. She should be part of some nice loving human family with no concept of the evil eager to consume the world. She should run fast and hard from him because he was finding it harder and harder to resist her. And maybe she hadn’t yet because he hadn’t shown her. The depth of his fury. His need. The demands he would make on her.

She punched him in the shoulder and part of him was relieved he felt it. The other part furious she was still denying him. She tried to climb over him, tried to leave him, but he caught her hips and rolled over, pinning her beneath his body. He snarled when she struggled against his hold, but was floored, thrown back into reality when her hands lifted to cup his face. When he saw only acceptance and acquiescence in her eyes. Her body relaxed under his. Soft. Welcoming.

“You should be running like hell from me,” he muttered.

“And leave the other half of my soul?”

Stunned, he stared at her. She had no idea what she was saying, no idea what she was asking for. She shrugged. “I’ve always known, Dupree. Why do you fight it so much?”

“You deserve more,” he whispered, gaze fixed on her lips. Could he risk one taste? Just one little taste to take with him when he left this world?

“Maybe,” she answered, her face lifting from the pillow, lips getting closer to his. He groaned and she continued in that whisper that touched the most secret places of his soul. “But maybe I’d rather have you. Just you.”

He kissed her. In his weakened state, he couldn’t resist.
Yeah right,
he chided himself. He was just tired of fighting. Tired of wanting. And she tasted like heaven. Sweet and light. Heat and temptation. He stopped before he got carried away and she fell back into the pillow, but her hands gripped his upper arms.

“You get back here and finish what you started, Dupree Jackson,” she ordered.

He almost smiled. She was one of only a handful people who never showed it when they were afraid of him or his mood. She should be running in terror now, not egging him on. Not testing his restraint. His body was hard and tight with desire. His demon on the edge of his control.

“You’re playing with fire.”

She grinned up at him and his heart seemed to stop.
Mine.
“The only way to play with you is to play with fire.”

Why did she have to go and say things like that to him? Like she had a chance in hell of taking him on and coming out the other side sane? He would have leveraged himself up, out of the bed and away from her if he’d had the strength, but the poison was still working through his body.

And that was just an excuse, because if she stayed under him much longer, her warm pliant body his to do with as he pleased, he would cross an irrevocable line in his mind. He would make her his and damn the consequences. Fuck. Who was he kidding? That choice was made, but she had no idea what she was in for.

He would demand complete submission. Total surrender.

He made himself roll over. He would make those demands, but not yet. He would give her as much time to adjust to her changed reality as he could.

“Dupree?” For once, he let her see everything he was feeling when he met her gaze and she gasped.

“How did you get here?”

“I drove.”

He nodded. Okay. He could send her away for a few hours. He’d worry less about her if she was with Winter, at the nightwalkers’ house. “Go back. I’ll be there in a few hours.”

He sensed Gia near, knew she wanted to talk to him. He’d rest here. Catch up. And return to Kara soon. She saw that lingering promise in his eyes. He let her see it, hoping she had enough sense to run fast and hard, but she didn’t. She pressed a kiss against his lips and left. He knew she’d be right where he wanted her when the time came and he’d take her, wouldn’t allow her any escape.

God, he was an asshole.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Gia felt the disturbance in the air when someone teleported into the house and she let her senses flair out, trying to get a feel for who it was. The person was too well blocked so she moved from her position over the radio console and peeked out the door in time to see Marcus carrying Winter up the stairs. She smiled, relief sagging her shoulders. Winter was going to be okay. Marcus wouldn’t have it any other way and Winter seemed just fine with that.

The radio crackled and Gia moved back to the board to check off the latest team reporting in. She glanced over the list. Almost done now, only two left out. Once they called in, she would break down the radio system and have it returned to their offices for storage until it was needed again. Checking the clock, for about the tenth time in the last hour, she wondered what was taking those teams so long.

And where Luke was.

Not that she wanted to see him—she’d deny that with her dying breath. But she knew she was on borrowed time. He would return any minute now that Marcus was back and she needed to get away before he did. He’d fight her if he knew she was planning on leaving. She didn’t have any idea what his game was, but she wasn’t getting sucked in anymore than she already was.

He’d spent weeks in bed with her, always making sure she understood it was nothing more than a casual experience for him, that there would never be anything real between them. She’d already known that, had recognized him for the player he was. So what the hell was all this mate business about for the last few days? She couldn’t figure out what his angle was and the truth was she was already too invested to stick around and try. If he was going to break her heart anyway, it might as well be sooner. Not after she let herself believe his smooth lies, not after letting herself learn to hope. No way. She wouldn’t do that to herself.