Shadow's Pleasure: The Shadow Warder Series, Book Two (A Paranormal/Urban Fantasy Romance Series) (23 page)

“Alexa told me to back off,” Aiden said. “I thought it was curious. She wouldn’t normally go out of her way for any of you.”

“She knows Conner isn’t a traitor.”

“If he’s with a Shadow—”

“Forget the fucking Shadows,” Kiernan said. “The Shadows aren’t the problem. You just told me that Sicari are dying. I told you a Director kidnapped females and is working with a Voratus. Breaking a pointless rule about not associating with the Shadows is irrelevant.”

“And if I take off to look for this lab, what are you going to do? Disappear? If I’m going to stand down, I want to talk to Conner.”

“Leave Conner out of this. You’re not talking to him. And I’m not going anywhere until we find out where Michael moved the missing Shadows and get them out. So far, that’s not going too well. So you’ve got time. Check around and see what you learn. I guarantee you’ll be back with a lot more to talk about than Conner and some Shadow he may or may not have run off with.”

“What about her?” Aiden asked, gesturing toward Sorcha.

She’d been standing at the end of the bar sipping her beer and watching the byplay between the two Warders. Now, she started a little at Aiden’s attention.

“She’s helping me look for the missing females. That’s all you need to know,” Kiernan said, shifting closer to the end of the bar, putting himself between Aiden and Sorcha.

“Not good enough. She doesn’t feel like a Shadow. Or a Voratus. But no human can throw fire. So what is she?”

“You haven’t earned the right to know,” Kiernan shot back. “Sorcha isn’t your problem. You need to adjust your focus.”

“Watch yourself, Kiernan” Aiden shot at him. “If you don’t learn to curb that tongue, it’s going to get you killed.”

“Like I didn’t hear that every other day when I was at the Academy,” Kiernan said, an angry flush across his cheekbones. “The problem with all you older Warders is that you’re so in love with the tradition, you forget that the law grew from the mission, not the other way around. And when the law no longer serves the mission, it becomes the enemy. You want to follow Michael even though we’ve told you what he’s doing? Fine, go ahead. We’ll work around you. Or are you going to execute us for being in your way?”

“Relax, Warder,” Aiden said, putting a hand up. For the first time, he looked far older than Kiernan, if not in his looks, in his bearing. “I’m not agreeing with you. But I’ll see what I can find out.”

“Fine.” Kiernan put his beer on the table and opened a drawer. Pulling out a smartphone, he powered it up, tapped the screen a few times and handed it to Aiden.

“That’s the text Gabe sent me a few weeks after he disappeared.”

Aiden read the screen of the phone, then dropped it on the table and looked down, shaking his head. “Fuck,” he said. Then, he looked up at Kiernan. “I’ll be in touch. Don’t leave town until you hear from me.” At that, Aiden turned on his heel and headed for the elevator.

Kiernan followed, looking back at Sorcha to say, “Stay up here. I’ll see him out.”

Sorcha nodded, putting her empty beer down on the counter. Before she got another, she picked up Kiernan’s old phone. Gabe’s text was still on the screen:
Going underground. Got Daniel’s killer. Blake was infected. Said Daniel was only the first. There are more
.

Sorcha opened another beer, her mind on the text on Kiernan’s phone. Infected Warders? Because kidnapped Shadows wasn’t enough? Then again, if a Warder Director was working with a powerful Voratus, it stood to reason they’d be up to all sorts of badness. Wandering to the wide, gleaming window, she looked down into the city street. Night had fallen along with a light drizzle, and the streetlights sent a greenish, damp glow over the pavement. This neighborhood was mixed-use—commercial, semi-industrial and a few residential buildings like Kiernan’s. Not a lot of foot traffic, especially after dark. She saw one man walking down the street, headphones in his ears, carrying a worn backpack. He rounded the corner and the street was empty again.

Sorcha thought about going out after Caerwyn again. They should. If it hadn’t been going so slowly, if they’d been making more progress, she’d already be out the door. But they weren’t getting anywhere. Not that she was giving up. But there might be another way. Kiernan would never agree to it. He was too protective. Half of the time, Sorcha liked it. The way he pulled her in close if he thought another man might touch her. Throwing his t-shirt at Aiden so the Sicarius wouldn’t be bare-chested. It was cute. And sweet.

In her normal life, Sorcha was not considered a female in need of protection. She didn’t think she’d ever had a male try to shelter her. In fact, thinking back, she couldn’t remember anyone ever sheltering her. From anything.

Steven had had control of her life from childhood until she left his authority to train as a tracker. And no one had shielded her from him. Sorcha had learned early that complaints only led to harsher punishments. If Steven told her mother that Sorcha wasn’t properly obedient, her mother was likely to ask if he’d beaten her for it, then take care of the job herself if Steven hadn’t. For most of her life, until she’d escaped into the field, Sorcha had been on her own, doing her best to survive a maze of authority figures who ranged between overt abuse and benign neglect. In contrast, the Vorati in the field had been easy. With them, she knew what to expect. They were demons. They were supposed to attack.

Kiernan’s protective streak was lovely. Sorcha was trying not to take it too personally. It didn’t mean that he had feelings for her. She’d seen that he had a way with women in general. And he’d admitted that he’d been raised by a mother and sisters he’d loved, which she assumed had a lot to do with his affection for females. Even if it wasn’t personal, she was enjoying it. That didn’t mean she missed the bigger picture. It was refreshing that Kiernan knew she could take care of herself. She appreciated that he didn’t treat her as if she were helpless just because she had breasts.

But if she proposed putting herself in danger? Kiernan wouldn’t hear of it, not if he wasn’t right there to keep her safe. And the possibility that had been simmering in the back of her head was something she could only do alone. It was dangerous. Not as much for her as it might be for another Shadow, but her plan had the potential to go very wrong. And where she was going, if it went bad Kiernan would be completely unable to help.

If she laid all of this out for Kiernan, she had a feeling he’d go nuts. So she wouldn’t say anything. It was an empath thing. She could do it from here. If it didn’t work, Kiernan would never know. If she got into trouble, she’d be fucked, since he couldn’t help her. And if it worked, she’d have to confess. All around, not a great idea.

Sorcha didn’t care. Their progress was too slow. And the idea that she had no clue what was happening with Caerwyn was eating at her. If this worked, even a little, at least she’d know where they stood.

The sound of the elevator shutting had her turning around. Kiernan grabbed another beer from the fridge. The tips of his hair were dark and curling from the light rain.

“Is he gone?” she asked.

“Yeah.” Kiernan came to stand beside her. “What are we looking at?”

“Nothing. Just thinking.”

“We going out tonight?” he asked.

“No,” she said, decision made. She was going to tire Kiernan out, then try her plan. “We’re staying in.”

Kiernan didn’t say anything in response, just wrapped his arm around her, tucking her into his side as he stood and watched the rain. In the two minutes they’d been standing in front of the window, the weather had changed. The rain was steady now, and a light wind had picked up. Working outside would have been a misery. She was far more comfortable pressed up against Kiernan.

She liked the way he cuddled her into him, enclosing her with his height and his broad shoulders. Sorcha was tall for a female. But the way he held her, he made her feel safe. For a woman who’d fought for every inch of safety, Kiernan’s embrace was a gift. It probably wasn’t that big a deal to him, but she didn’t care. Maybe she would later. But not right now.

His hand rested on her hip, fingers hooked in the belt loop of her jeans. As he took another sip of his beer, he shifted his hand under her shirt. Only an inch, just far enough that his fingertips grazed the sensitive skin above her hip bone. Absently, his fingers traced circles and swirls, leaving trails of warmth behind. She leaned into him, letting him take part of her weight. His chin came to rest on top of her head. All she heard was the enveloping patter of rain and the rhythm of Kiernan’s breath.

Gradually, his shifting fingers widened their patterns, roving to her belly button and up to her rib cage. The lines of heat he’d drawn on her skin spread, sending warmth through her body. Sneaky.

Restless, Sorcha turned into him, lifting her face to his. She wasn’t surprised to see him smiling down at her. What did surprise her was the gentleness, the affection she saw all over his face. Desire, she’d expected. Need. She felt it herself, growing every time they touched. But this was more. Sorcha was out of her depth. When had a man last looked at her as if she was precious? Had a man ever looked at her like this?

As if in answer, Kiernan lifted his hand to cradle her face, stroking a callused thumb over her cheekbone. In complete silence, he lowered his mouth to hers, giving her plenty of time to back away. The rain fell harder, wrapping them in a cocoon of rhythmic sound. Sorcha never considered denying Kiernan. She wanted this as badly as he did. Maybe more. Whatever came of it, she wanted him.

Once it was clear she wasn’t going anywhere, his lips came down on hers without hesitation. Sorcha opened for him, her tongue reaching for his, sliding into his mouth. He tasted like beer and a flavor that was uniquely Kiernan. Rich and potent. A moan rose from her chest as he kissed her harder, deeper, taking her mouth until she was breathless.

With no warning, Kiernan drew away, dragging his mouth from hers. Stepping into her, he crowded her backward, herding her across the room. It took her a second to understand what he was after. On the same page, she turned around and headed straight for the bedroom, only slowing to let him take her beer bottle from her hand. She heard the clink as it hit the kitchen counter, then Kiernan was behind her, slipping his hands under her t-shirt. He dragged it up, tugging until she raised her arms and allowed him to pull it over her head. The fabric caught on her ponytail holder, twisting it askew. He finished the job by sliding it free, her hair spilling over her back. Not letting her turn around, he reached for her belt. Sorcha was already there, the buckle undone, zipper down. Together, their hands skimmed the jeans over her hips, stripping her naked.

This time, he didn’t stop her from turning. When she did, he stepped forward. Crowding her again, backing her into the bed. Sorcha’s fingers worked on his belt as her legs hit the mattress. She felt herself going down and wrapped her hand around his metal buckle, dragging Kiernan with her. He landed on his side, sparing her his weight. He took over with the belt while Sorcha went for his shirt. She wanted her hands, her mouth, all over that warm, golden skin. Sorcha felt the heat building already, even though this time they didn’t have the Delectavi amplifying their desire. Not just arousal, though that was certainly raging through her. She felt actual heat. Now that she knew what to expect, she caught it as it happened.

Kiernan’s palms heated her skin, feeding the burn inside her as they spread pleasure everywhere they touched. Thin cotton tore in her hands when she pulled too hard on his t-shirt. Why was he still wearing clothes? He rolled away for a second, shifting on the bed. Then he was back, all that smooth, hot skin against hers. He was so beautiful. His eyes seemed to glow, the shades of hazel shifting in the dim light, greens and browns and golds, all swirling together. A hand skimmed down her side, hooking under her knee to draw her leg over his hip.

Rolling to fit himself between her legs, Kiernan’s mouth came down on hers. Sorcha lost herself in his kiss, his taste, his scent. She was barely aware she was adjusting her body for him, spreading her legs, arching her breasts to his chest. He reached between them, his hand finding his cock, bringing it against her. Squirming, she pressed into him, rubbing her wet heat over the head of his cock. He didn’t have to ask if she was ready.

Impatient, she said, “Please, Kiernan. Now.”

Sorcha was aware she was begging. But she didn’t care. She couldn’t think straight. Once he had his hard length ready to push inside her, she’d lost her mind. Nothing else mattered but Kiernan filling her until she had all of him.

He didn’t answer with words. Without hesitation, he pressed forward, spreading her, stretching her with a delicious fullness that sent pleasure spinning through her body. And the heat. It flared, strongest where they were joined, white hot at every point of contact. Sorcha didn’t know how she could feel intense heat, but no pain. She didn’t care. At that moment, they could have burned the whole building down and she wouldn’t have blinked. Not as long as Kiernan kept up his slow, deep thrusts.

Sorcha’s pussy was a fucking molten vise. Literally. Kiernan wasn’t sure how long he could last. Was he going to come or burst into flame? If the night before was any indication, maybe both. She looked like living fire, her red hair spread around her in wild waves, green eyes alight with pleasure. Moaning, her neck arched, she wrapped her legs around his waist and ground hard against him.