Shadow's Pleasure: The Shadow Warder Series, Book Two (A Paranormal/Urban Fantasy Romance Series) (40 page)

Leaving Kiernan’s loft in Charlotte was bittersweet. Aiden waited in his truck while they said their goodbyes to Ben and Madoc and headed up to Kiernan’s loft to get their things. It wasn’t until Sorcha saw Kiernan tossing most of the contents of his closet into a bag that she realized what it meant. He wasn’t just taking her back to the Sanctuary. He was planning to stay. With her.

An icy knot of fear in her chest melted. She hadn’t realized she’d been afraid of this moment. Afraid of saying goodbye. They were bonded. He’d said he loved her. But what seemed right in the heat of an intense situation sometimes didn’t work once things were back to normal.

He was giving up so much. They couldn’t take all of his stuff with them. And coming back with a moving van would be way too conspicuous. Not to mention abandoning Kiernan’s cars. She loved that Maserati. Technically, now her Maserati. Not quite the right transportation for the rough mountain roads near the Sanctuary.

“Kiernan,” she said then stopped, not sure what she wanted to say. She didn’t want to talk him out of coming with her. Helpless, she gestured around her. “All your things. Your loft. You can’t leave it.”

“Scorch,” he said, shoving the last handful of clothes into his bag and zipping it shut, “this is just stuff. None of it means anything. I have plenty of money. I can get more. Don’t worry about it.”

Sorcha nodded, suddenly unsure about everything. “You’re coming to stay with me?” she asked, aware her voice sounded thin and uncertain. “In my cottage?”

“That was my plan,”’ Kiernan said, watching her carefully.

Sorcha relaxed a fraction. “That was my plan too,” she admitted. “For how long?”

“For however long there is.”

His answer chased off the last of her fear. Kiernan was coming home with her. He wasn’t going to leave. How she’d gone from wanting her freedom to fearing he would leave her, she wasn’t quite sure. Something to do with trusting him. And falling in love.

“I don’t want to go back there,” she whispered. “Caerwyn needs me. When I was going to leave, I didn’t know she’d be this bad.”

“I know.” Kiernan pulled her into his arms, resting his chin on the top of her head. “We’ll deal with the Sanctuary. For now. Until Caerwyn’s doing better. Then we’ll see.”

“Okay,” Sorcha said. Thoughts of the Sanctuary always brought on the same helpless, trapped feeling. But it didn’t have to be that way now. She wasn’t alone. She was bonded to a warrior. And her shield was stronger than it had ever been. Sorcha wasn’t a victim. Not anymore.

“What about my Maserati?” she teased, suddenly lighthearted.

Kiernan winked at her and grinned. “I gave the keys to Ben. He’s taking it back to Madoc’s place in Atlanta. We can get it when we pick up your knives. Or leave it there. The knives are going to take a few weeks and who knows what’ll be going on in the Sanctuary by then.” He had a point.

The drive back to the cottage and their return to the Sanctuary passed in a blur. Now they were back in her cottage, and they were settling in. But too much was still up in the air. Iris and Garran had welcomed them home, relieved and subdued. Keeley, Zach and Kate were still missing. Steven had not returned. Sorcha considered heading straight back out, either after Keeley, or to find Sara and Lissa.

Keeley was a tracker. Sorcha knew from their years as partners that Keeley could take care of herself. And as she’d noted to Iris, Zach and Kate weren’t always great about giving updates on their whereabouts. Something could have gone wrong, or all three of them could be fine. Sara and Lissa were her next priority. She wouldn’t rest until she brought them home. Assuming they were alive to bring home. But they would have to wait a little bit longer.

Caerwyn needed her now. It would take weeks of care to help guide Caerwyn to the beginnings of recovery. An empath couldn’t erase the trauma Caerwyn had experienced. Caerwyn would have to do the hardest parts of healing on her own. But Sorcha could lift some of the pain, could help Caerwyn process her memories and her fears. To an empath, post-traumatic stress disorder was like spiritual scarring. She couldn’t do much for physical scars, but those of the mind and the soul? Those scars were Sorcha’s domain. It would take time, but she’d help to ease the worst of it. No matter how much Sorcha didn’t want to be in the Sanctuary, she wouldn’t leave Caerwyn.

And apparently, neither would Aiden. The forbidding Warder was currently installed in Kiernan’s former suite of rooms across the hall from Conner and Hannah. He’d refused to leave the Sanctuary until he saw improvement in Caerwyn’s condition. For a moment when they’d arrived, Sorcha had been afraid he wouldn’t release Caerwyn to her parents. That would have gotten awkward quickly. For now, the Sanctuary had reached an uneasy equilibrium with three Warders in residence. It was hard to tell how long that would last.

Iris, looking very uncertain in the presence of the frowning Sicarius, and Kiernan, his arm tight around Sorcha, had informed Sorcha that three Shadow keepers from other Sanctuaries would be arriving over the next few weeks. Apparently, with the new instability in the Warder population, the possibility of Warder infections, and Warders bonding with Shadows and living in the Sanctuary, the keepers had decided they needed to create a policy to deal with the changes. Sorcha had resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Create a policy. That was the perfect Shadow response to complete and utter upheaval in their world. Let’s form a committee and draft a
policy
.

Whatever they came up with, Sorcha had a feeling she’d be smart to stay alert. So far, the Warders had been welcome in the Sanctuary. If that changed, she and Kiernan would have to be ready.

Standing in the entry of her cottage, Sorcha surveyed the main room. One of the couches was knocked askew. A lamp lay shattered on the floor. The coffee table was on its side, one leg smashed to splinters. Signs of her hasty departure were everywhere. Drawers half open, papers stacked on the counter. She hadn’t expected to be back here. She’d thought she’d find Caerwyn, Lissa, and Sara, deliver them home, and take off. Or better yet, send them back with the Warder and avoid the Sanctuary completely. Things hadn’t exactly gone to plan.

“I guess we’ve got some cleaning to do,” Kiernan said from beside her. He dropped his duffel bag on the floor and went to pull the couch back into place.

Sorcha watched him find the broom and dustpan in the closet by her bathroom and begin to sweep up the broken lamp. He should have felt all wrong in her little cottage. Should have been too big. Too Warder for her offbeat art and bright colors. Instead, he fit perfectly. A good thing, since she didn’t want him to leave. Not yet. Maybe never. Dropping her own duffel beside his, Sorcha went to help him finish cleaning up the mess, starting with the pile of mail knocked off the corner of her desk during the fight. Fatigue hit her in an unexpected wave. Kiernan came up behind her and took the letters she’d been sorting from her hands.

“Can you do this later?” he asked, turning her around. Sorcha nodded. “Did you lock the door?” She nodded again.

Kiernan’s firm hands on her shoulders turned her away from the table and aimed her at her bedroom door.

“We need sleep,” he said. “We got the worst of the mess cleaned up. Let’s worry about the rest of it after a nap.”

“Okay,” she said, acquiescent in her exhaustion.

Kiernan had driven them through a fast food place off the highway for breakfast. Sausage and egg biscuit sandwiches dripping with melted cheese, with hash browns, and coffee wasn’t the healthiest breakfast, but it had been exactly the calorie-fest she’d needed. Despite her full stomach and her fatigue, Sorcha had been too tense to fall asleep in the car. She’d been worried about seeing Iris and Garran. Afraid Steven had made it back here and already filled their heads with lies, turned them against her. And worse, she’d been afraid they’d try to separate her from Kiernan.

She wouldn’t have let them. Kiernan had said she was his, and sometime between Steven’s attack and Kiernan’s apology, she’d decided to claim him right back. The bond flowed between them, strong and true. No one, not Shadow or Warder, would tear them apart. If it hadn’t been for Caerwyn, Sorcha wouldn’t have worried what anyone thought about her bonding with a Warder. She and Kiernan never would have come back to the Sanctuary. But Sorcha needed to stay here, in the Sanctuary, at least for a few weeks. For her own peace of mind. And more importantly, for Caerwyn’s.

With a firm hand on her back, Kiernan led her into her bedroom. She began pulling off her clothes automatically, her double bed filling her line of sight. The morning they’d left the Sanctuary to go look for the girls, she’d made it as she usually did—pulling up the duvet with a careless tug, fluffing the pillows with a single snap and moving on. Naked, she crawled in, pulling an equally naked Kiernan in beside her. The two of them in the small bed were a tight fit. She didn’t care. At that moment, if she could have fused herself to Kiernan, she would have. In the insanity of the last few days, he was her anchor.

Hooking her leg over his, Sorcha tucked herself into his side, using his shoulder as a pillow. She didn’t need to wonder if Kiernan was comfortable. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her deeper against him until she was draped over him. Eyelids drooping, she stared at his chest, the warm, golden skin, the scattering of dark blond chest hair. He really was the most beautiful male. Hard to imagine he was hers. Tracing aimless circles into his skin, she whispered, “You know I love you too, right?”

Kiernan’s arm tightened around her, pressing her even closer. “I didn’t,” he whispered back.

Sorcha didn’t say anything else. She was too tired. Too content, wrapped in Kiernan, in the heat of their bond. Everything around them was in flux, but as long as she had this, as long as they had each other, they had a home. Together.

Kiernan’s lips grazed across her forehead. “I’m glad you said it,” he murmured. “If you waited too long, I had a plan, but I don’t think you’d have liked it.”

“Mmm? What was your plan?” She was so tired, so close to sleep, her words blurred.

“I had two. The first was to fuck you right to the edge of orgasm and not let you come until you admitted you loved me.”

“Mmm. That had possibility,” she said, her lips brushing his skin. “And the other one?”

“I was going to get something from Madoc and Ben.”

“Like a truth spell?” Sorcha asked, a little intrigued.

“Something like that. But I liked the first plan better.”

“Me too,” Sorcha said, rubbing her cheek against his skin. “Let’s pretend I never said anything. Then, when we wake up, you can torture it out of me.”

“Works for me.”

Sorcha drifted off, drawn into sleep by the prospect of waking with Kiernan, his hands on her body, the flames of their arousal licking the air around them, lighting the room with their love.

Epilogue

Michael stood in the long hallway, studying the captives in their cells. Druj stood beside him, his Voratus energy no longer a grating assault now that Michael was infected himself. Michael had skated the thin edge of Druj’s disapproval when he’d lost the redheaded Shadow. He’d need to come up with a replacement. But that could wait for later. For now, he was focused on the big picture. As one, he and Druj walked down the hall, commenting on the various prisoners.

This facility lacked the pristine white walls of the lab in the Citadel. But it was newly built and more than functional. Best of all, it was fully secure. Constructed in the center of hundreds of acres of rural farmland in coastal South Carolina, it was impossible to approach unseen. And it gave them free rein to do as they pleased without fear of discovery. By the time the Shadows and uninfected Warders caught on and came looking for this place, they would be too late.

Michael stopped in front of their two newest arrivals, a talented but young Warder mage and the older male Shadow Michael had collared while he’d been spying on the redhead. The mage would be a valuable asset once they managed to infect him. So far, he was proving oddly resistant. And the Shadow—they hadn’t decided what to do with him. Michael was eager to see if they could infect him as well, but Druj was holding him back. For what, Michael didn’t know yet.

Now that the new facility was fully operational, they could step up their plans. Every day the number of infected Warders grew. Aware of the dangers of isolating their efforts, Michael had developed a strategic plan to infect specific Warders across North America. A few here, a few there. Just enough to provide balance. When they took Charlotte, their infected allies would allay suspicion. At least long enough for them to take more Warder strongholds. Once they solved the puzzle of infecting the Shadows, their plan would be complete. Druj, with Michael alongside him, would be unstoppable. All of humanity would be a feast, theirs for the taking. Michael was barely aware of the shift inside him. When this whole thing began, it had been all about the power. About getting rid of the other Directors and installing himself as their king. Now, with the deepest parts of his soul led by the demon inside him, Michael thought little of power over the others. Instead, he hungered for their screams.