Worlds Apart (30 page)

“It's possible I have that
advantage anyway,” he said.

She withdrew her hand, crossing
her arms over her chest. He reached for her and tucked his palm
around her fingers.

“It will make me stronger, faster,
more agile. More than Fontaine?” He shrugged. “I can't tell you
that. But there's a damn good chance it will.”

Kasia sounded impatient when she
spoke.“The point is Clive will almost certainly hurt Fontaine. If I
were betting on this fight—hell, I
am
betting on this
fight—I would bet on Clive killing Fontaine. I'm almost positive he
will at least injure him enough for my people to handle
him.”

“But you're not betting on Clive
coming out alive.” Tina had released her arms and was returning
Clive's grip, her eyes intent on Kasia's face.

“Tina.” Kasia’s voice was gentle,
and she stepped forward to clasp Tina's shoulders. She gazed with
earnest truthfulness into Tina’s eyes. “Clive is my friend. I want
him to survive. He’s out there on my order. I assure you, I don't
take that responsibility lightly. I've got fifty agents on this
case, and I will do everything in my power to bring
all
of
them home.

“We'll leave within the hour,”
Kasia added, turning to Clive. “I want you in the field thirty
minutes before dusk.” He nodded and Kasia glanced from him to Tina.
“Say your good-byes, and I'll meet you out front.”

She left, ignoring Will, who
remained in the doorway with his arms folded. He had not missed a
word. Will shot Clive a warning glare and followed Kasia out,
closing the door as he went.

Clive's sigh was cut off when Tina
threw herself against him and wrapped him in a tight
hold.

“You've got to live,” she said.
“Promise me.”

“I can promise to try,” he said,
holding her close.

“Not good enough.”

“Tina.” His breath caused a few
strands of her hair to blow upward and tickle his face.”I can't
promise something I have no control over. I won't say it just to
give you false comfort.”

“Damn you.”

“Would you have the last words
between us be a lie?”

“Are you always so
honest?”

“Where magic is concerned, yes.
The stakes are too important. Especially in this case.” He tucked a
finger under her chin, raising her face so he could look at her.
“You have the most instinctual grasp of magic I've ever seen in a
Flatlander. Everything you do and say is exactly what is needed to
aid me out there.”

“How does it help when you won't
promise?”

“Your desire for it binds me to
try and provide it.” He stroked her hair, then her face, his thumb
caressing her lips with deliberate provocation.

She pressed harder against him in
response, bringing her lips close to his. “Are there other ways I
can help you?”

Deep longing rose in him, an
irresistible wave. He claimed her mouth in a gentle kiss. Her lips
moved against his, with tenderness so different from the playful
passion of their first night together.

It made no difference how much
time they had. He needed to love her, to give her everything he
could in this moment.

He stroked his hand under the top
of her scrubs to cup her breast. She moaned, shifting so it fit
more fully into his palm. Her tongue made eager flicks into his
mouth as she tugged at his shirt, pulling it from his
pants.

Their time was short. He lifted
her, laying her on the bed. He removed her top, sighing at the
sight of her breasts, the nipples standing hard and straight. He
stroked them, covering her throat with kisses before taking a
nipple into his mouth. She gasped, arching against him, her fingers
pulling through his hair.

He released her to remove his
clothes and she slid out of her pants without moving from the bed.
The scars on her arms and leg, flushed with blood from her arousal,
gripped him with sorrow and rage. He allowed the feelings to fill
him, to become a part of the magical strength he would need to face
his adversary. He stroked her arms, his fingers exploring the scars
with a feathery touch. His gaze moved to her stomach, which was not
quite flat, her waist a bit wider than before, revealing the
presence of his tiny son within her.

She brushed a hand over the area,
her smile such a gentle combination of pride and love that for a
moment he couldn't breathe. Then she reached for him, pulling him
into the bed with her. He lay half on her, her skin a soft answer
to the tingle of his body, her voice a tender murmur—his name, over
and over between her gentle kisses along his throat.

He returned to her mouth, his
tongue probing its delicious depths, just as his fingers probed
between her legs, stroking her nub. He reached deep inside her
until she gasped and moved away from his kiss. She took his face in
her hands, staring into his eyes as tears seeped down her cheeks
while she pressed her warm space against his hand, her legs spread
wide in supplication.

“Help me,” she whispered, her
fingers gentle on his face. “Fill me with love and make the terror
go away. Make me believe it will be all right.”

He removed his hand and shifted to
lay on top of her, sliding inside her with careful control. He
moved in a gentle stroke, balancing on his arms to watch her
tear-stained face.

“I promise you,” he said, “that
after this night, you and your baby will be free and well. Healing
will happen in all its forms.” He moved within her in slow
counterpoint to his words, speaking to the quiet desperation in her
eyes. “I love you, Tina. I don't know what future we have, but
right now it doesn't matter.
I love you.
And I promise you
will be free. You will be safe. I promise.”

Her fingers caressed his face,
bringing his mouth down to hers in a deep kiss that kept time with
their increasing thrusts. Clive could not do strong magic, but he
saw his love for her and the child—a liquid river pouring from him.
He channeled the river into Tina, letting it seep from his pores
into hers, and pressed it into her with each thrust of his body,
and each flick of his tongue.

He felt it return, a warm rush
filling his body from head to toe, as Tina gave her own love back
to him, a promise for the future. His soul seemed to expand,
growing stronger to hold all the love flowing between them. This
was powerful magic, and Clive had no idea how to control it. He let
it fill him, and hoped it was the right thing to do.

Her kiss changed, her lips
clinging to his as she gasped in ecstasy for many long seconds.
Before she could catch her breath, his own lips tightened as he
reached his climax. He thrust deeply into her with each wave of
release. Her arms chained him to her, and their kiss turned gentle
as they rode the waves downward to reality, until they lay quiet,
faces turned into the other's neck.

They stayed that way for several
minutes, and then he stirred and murmured into her ear. “And I
promise to try with all my heart to come back to you.”

Chapter 35

Clive finished his second
sandwich, then took his coffee to stand at the edge of the clearing
where Ringstrom had set up his command center. He could feel the
tension from his fellow agents, who watched him with nervous,
sidelong glances, and kept their distance. No one knew when the
Change would happen, and every one of them was prepared to shoot
him at a moment's notice. The Flatlanders picked up on it and also
avoided him, without understanding why.

Ringstrom knew. Sometime during
last night's search, Kasia had felt it necessary to level with the
human sheriff. Whether he believed Kasia or not, he kept an eye on
Clive from his perch at a picnic table, fingering his holstered gun
with quiet intensity.

Clive knew he wouldn't Change in
front of any of them. His headache was still mild, and his blood
sang more from Tina's recent touch than from the heat of the moon.
He'd be alone in the forest long before it happened.

He sipped his coffee and stared
into the trees.

The criminal's rage permeated the
forest in a thick cloud. Clive was surprised it wasn't visible to
Flatlander eyes. Damien was losing control, both of the situation
and of himself. That made him less powerful, but more
dangerous.

He heard footsteps and knew it was
Kasia. He took another sip of coffee, not turning to greet her.
This close to the Change, his own self-control was stretched to its
limits, and talking to people just made it worse. He was usually
alone by this time, even if not yet in the enclave.

Kasia spoke quietly, as if aware
of his headache. “All the agents are out of the field and are
posted around the perimeter. You can go in at any time. We found
some of his traps—invisible pain fields. We don’t know how many
there are or where they’re at. If you fall into one, we’ll do what
we can.”

He nodded, still staring at the
trees.

Kasia stood at his side, her own
cup steaming in her hands. “Do you think he's Changed
yet?”

“No.” Realizing his short answer
might sound rude, he cleared his throat and added, “Soon, I expect.
An hour or two.”

“Shandari suggested that it might
be a more difficult transition in the Flatlands. It might delay the
Change.”

Clive started to shake his head,
but stopped at the sharp pain above his eye. “I doubt it will be
delayed. The moon is still the moon. But I expect it will be more
painful.”

“Oh.” Her shoulder brushed against
his in sympathy.

“It will only be the beginning of
tonight’s pain, I'm afraid,” he said, and drained his cup. His eyes
roved the trees, betraying his restless anxiety. “He's
angry.”

“Clive. Can you look at
me?”

It took effort, but he turned to
face her, squinting.

“I want you to know we'll do
everything we can to protect you. Not just me. Every agent here is
rooting for you. I know you don't have a lot of friends among the
staff. I know how hard it's been for you because they always avoid
you. But they respect you, Clive. And they trust you. Never once
has any agent requested that I not assign you as a partner or team
member. They may not have befriended you, but you are part of them,
and they accept that. Please trust them. Depend on them to do their
job.”

Her words were honey, slipping
into his soul, clearing away the headache for a brief, merciful
moment. “I will.”

~~

The forest was like a creature
hiding from a predator. Clive stumbled through the trees as the
last of the light faded, gun held ready in one hand. His immediate
goal was the area where they'd found Tina. She'd not had time or
the ability to get very far after her escape, so he was certain the
cave was nearby.

That didn't mean his quarry was
there, but it was a place to start.

His own Change was nearing. His
head was in a vise, his vision narrowed to a tunnel in which his
feet appeared, one at a time, in slow motion. He'd discarded his
clothes soon after entering the forest and now sweat made his skin
slick. Pine needles jabbed his feet and drops of blood revealed his
trail.

He leaned gasping against a tree,
staring at the gun dangling from his fingers, unable to process
what it was. A sound, or a scent, or a knowing, brought his head up
with a snap, and the hand with the gun followed to point straight
ahead.

The other man was a moon shadow
within nearby bushes. He was naked too. Light glinted off the sweat
coating his body and he was bent over, fighting his Change. Clive
shook with the pain of his own Changing, but his eyes and the gun
were steady. His finger tightened on the trigger.

“I wanted to find the One that
took her from me.” The other man’s voice sounded a deep hatred that
slithered down Clive’s spine. “I wanted him to see his own death
with human eyes.”

“You still lose.” Clive had to
force his voice out, to force his grated muscles to form words.
“She’s destroyed you.” He pressed the trigger, falling as he did
so. The shot flew wild, its roar drowning all other sounds. Pain
lanced through his limbs, long shudders moved down his body, and
his mind skittered in circles, unable to focus on logical
thought.

He endured an eternity of pain,
without thought, without light to break the darkness. Awareness
returned with his muzzle buried in his front paws as he crouched in
a pile of pine needles. Pain ebbed out of his body, sinking from
head to shoulders.

It returned with a shock of terror
when a great weight hurled into his side, knocking him onto his
back. A slash tore into his shoulder as he rolled under a savage
ball claws, teeth, and silver fur. His own teeth snapped onto a
leg, leaving a sharp nip as the other wolf leapt away from him,
skidding to a stop a few feet away. Clive scrambled to his feet,
ready to lunge. The silver wolf growled once as moonlight gleamed
off his eyes, then bounced through the trees, and disappeared into
the darkness.

Clive followed, letting his torn
shoulder set the pace. The other wolf smelled of danger and threat.
Every instinct told Clive to pursue, to kill without hesitation.
The other wolf was a danger to Clive’s mate and cub.