Eternal Sin (26 page)

Around her the shocked and appalled prattle began.

•   •   •

As the hot spray pummeled her back, Petra dropped her head and fingered the key around her neck. Even in the dim light of the shower, the diamond charm sparkled brilliantly. She couldn’t believe what had happened this morning. The tree, the presents, the promises. It was perfect. And if there was one thing she knew didn’t exist, it was perfection.

But when she was around Synjon, when he looked at her with an almost covetous glint in his eyes, she felt reality slip away. She wanted this. Him. Them.

She just prayed he could keep his promise.

Deep in thought, she didn’t hear Synjon slip into the shower or feel him curl behind her, until his arms were wrapped around her belly and his lips were pressed to her shoulder blade.

She gasped as he trailed a line of fiery kisses up her shoulder to her neck, pausing when he was close to her ear.

“Playing with your key,” he whispered. “Your mind elsewhere. Having second thoughts, love?”

Even in the hot, steam-filled shower, she shivered. “Perhaps.”

His hands drifted up, over her belly to cup her breasts. “What about, then?”

She sighed at the feel of his large, slightly rough palms. “Well, this key,” she replied. “It’s not very practical.” Her nostrils flared as he started gently pinching her nipples. “It doesn’t unlock anything.”

“Bollocks.” He rolled his hips. His cock was like steel against her back. “I think the bloody thing unlocks my heart.”

She melted at his words. “Isn’t your heart as silent as mine, vampire?” Gods, she wanted this, him. And she wanted his cock inside her again.

He chuckled softly, then eased her legs apart with his foot. “Doesn’t mean it can’t be opened. Allowed a little light and care.”

“Oh, Syn,” she said breathlessly, her skin tightening, tingling.

His hands moved from her breasts around to her back. As the shower rained down on both of them, he traced the line of her spine. “Do you want me to be open to you, love?”

“Yes,” Petra breathed, anticipating the descent of his fingers as she let her hands rest on the wet walls in front of her.

“Because I want you to be open to me. Always.” Synjon continued downward, moving through the crease in her bottom, flipping his wrist just in time to ease two fingers inside her.

Petra’s groan of lust echoed throughout the stone shower.

He nipped at her shoulder. “A little farther open if you will, love.”

She arched her back.

“Mmmmm, there it is.”

“Please, Syn.” Her insides were tight and trembling. “I need you.”

“Brilliant,” he growled. “Because I need you, too, Petra, love.” He slipped his fingers out, and she felt the head of his cock nudge against her sex. “More than you’ll ever know.”

He punctuated his words with one perfect thrust into her cunt. Crying out, Petra arched her back and circled her hips, trying to get his iron cock to hit every inch of her creaming walls.

She heard Syn hiss, then felt his arm move over her shoulder. The sudden and intoxicating scent of hot, rich blood encircled her and instantly her fangs dropped. As Syn moved inside her, his strokes slow and shockingly deep, Petra drove her fangs into his waiting vein.

All thoughts drifted out of her mind, never to be analyzed again, and she became one humming, raw thread of feeling. Behind her, Syn growled and hissed and continued to drive up into her with a perfect rhythm that was designed to send her screaming over the edge.

Blood cascaded into her mouth, slid down her throat, fusing with the sensations of impending climax. It was a smoking leaf to a vast forest of dry brush, and Syn’s thrusts caught that fire and quickened. The sound of wet bodies slapping against each other filled the air, and Petra’s legs started to lose their purchase. She dropped his arm and leaned against the shower wall as inside her trembling pussy, Synjon’s cock swelled mercilessly.

Brilliant light burst inside her mind, and she slammed her hips back and came hard, moaning and whimpering, bucking and cursing, and wishing she could sustain the intensity of her climax for hours, days . . .

Syn gripped her ass and growled, the unearthly sound making the hairs on her arms stand up as he pounded ruthlessly into her.

And then Petra spread her legs even wider and leaned over, giving him full access. She heard him curse, felt him lightly slap her right cheek, and with four deep, driving thrusts, he came inside her.

Hot seed coated her walls, and she whimpered. She loved that feeling, loved having him impaled inside her.

For several long moments, neither of them moved. As the water turned cool, and Syn’s fingers lightly brushed the skin of her back and buttocks, the only sound was heavy breathing diminishing into soft pants of satisfaction.

Exhaustion claimed her, and Petra barely noticed when Syn eased out of her, shut off the water, and wrapped her in a warm towel. She curled into him as he lifted her and carried her out of the bathroom.

“Sleepy, love?” he whispered.

“Hmmmm,” she answered, nodding her head against his chest, kissing his smooth, hard skin.

He chuckled as he placed her on the cool sheets. When he drew back to get the covers, Petra grabbed his arm.

“Don’t leave,” she whispered in a bleary tone.

The mattress dipped with his weight, and he moved in close behind her. “Never.” He pressed his body right up against hers and dropped a kiss to her shoulder. “Sleep now, m’dear, m’darling.”

Smiling to herself, she snuggled into the curve of his body, loving his words, loving his heat, loving his closeness.

Gods
.

Loving him.

•   •   •

Synjon strode into the diner and headed for the back booth. Leaving Petra, all warm and wet and soft in his bed, was the hardest thing he’d ever done. And he wasn’t even going to think about how he was lying to her in more than a few ways.
Prat.
He was just fecking worthless, truly. But once again, Adrian’s text had drawn him out—out of what was so perfect and happy, and toward something dusty and vile-smelling that he just couldn’t seem to turn away from.

“I can’t be gone long,” he said, slipping into the red leather booth across from the badass, ginger-haired
paven
.

“Neither can I,” Adrian said, glancing around the diner before turning his eyes on Syn. “Cruen’s nearly ready to leave, and he’s gaining strength.”

A shot of unease moved through Syn’s gut. “How?”

“I don’t know.”

“You need to find out.” Syn leaned across the table, his voice low and calculating. “We can’t have the old Cruen on our hands. Not until he’s in chains and under lock and key—and the heat of the midday sun.” He said the words with such fury and conviction, he knew in that moment that letting go of his need for vengeance wouldn’t be nearly as simple as a promise made to the
veana
he wanted.

“Problem is,” Adrian said, “he won’t allow me to come with him. Whatever it is that’s filling him with new strength comes from the water shifters there.” He paused, thoughtful. “I say we move now. I’m ready. You’re ready. Right?”

Bloody hell, he’d been ready for so long he couldn’t remember what it felt like to be unburdened. Synjon stared at the
paven
before him. Juliet’s brother wanted this, needed this. Shite, deserved this. It was decision time. If he could just make this happen without Petra finding out . . . But that wasn’t possible, and he knew it.

“Syn?”

Syn’s eyes rose, locked with Adrian’s.

“Tomorrow?” asked the
paven
. “At first dark?”

A flash of Juliet’s face moved across Syn’s mind, and he winced. Her death, her murder, had to be avenged.

He gave the male a quick nod. His deal with the devil had been made a long time ago, his seat in Hell kept warm by just the idea of being the one who rid the world of that sodding bastard Cruen. It was time to end this—end him—once and for all.

21

“I
think I’m set on onesies until the
balas
is in college.” Under the cool, crisp light of the midday sun, Sara tossed Petra an overwhelmed expression. “How about you?”

Petra couldn’t help but laugh as they walked down the busy street toward Syn’s apartment. “Not sure about the onesies, but I have diapers to last until then. Or for a month, depending on how many times I have to change him or her per day.”

“How many times
you
have to change . . .” Sara narrowed her eyes, but said playfully, “Come on now. You know that’s the dad’s job, don’t you?”

“Diaper duty?” Petra asked.

“Dealing with all the shit.” Sara’s face broke out in a wide grin.

Petra laughed again and sidestepped a mom and her stroller. When Sara had called this morning, Petra hadn’t been all that sure if the
veana
’s suggestion to do a little baby shopping was a good idea or not. For one thing, Petra had all those baby things that Syn had gotten her, but for another—and maybe this was what concerned her the most—she hadn’t had any true interaction with her half sister since she’d found out the truth about their mutual parent. She had no idea what to expect. Would the
veana
be outwardly friendly, but unable to mask a cool distrust behind her eyes? Of course, that worry couldn’t have been further from the truth. Sara was welcoming and kind and funny, and cool in a good way. And damn if they didn’t have several things in common besides their bellies.

The morning had been a mass of sunshine, but now gray clouds were starting to move in and it felt like snow was on the way. As they walked, and as the air grew colder and the holiday lights and decorations winked at them in their merry way, Petra felt a deep sense of connection move through her. And yet she didn’t want there to be any confusion about other members of the family. Particularly Sara’s mother.

“I’m really glad you called,” Petra said as they came to Syn’s building.

Sara’s smile was brilliant. “Me too.”

“But I need you to know, I’m just sort of coming to terms with where I came from and how. Being the offspring of blackmail, and all that.”

The truth in her words, and no doubt the memory of learning that her mother, Celestine, had gone to Cruen, slept with Cruen, only to get her mate released from imprisonment and impending castration, made Sara’s face fall a little.

“Petra, you don’t have to explain any of this to me,” she said sadly.

“No, I want to. I want to have a relationship with you. I’m just not ready to call anyone else mom. Don’t know if I’ll ever be.”

Sara nodded. “I totally understand.”

“Okay, good.” Petra nodded too and smiled. “Thank you.”

“But maybe we can bring Gray along next time?” Sara’s eyes, so similar to Petra’s, widened with hope. “I know he’d love it.”

“More baby shopping?”

Sara laughed. “Totally. He’s about to be an uncle to two
balas
, after all. We’ll make him try out toys and hold our breast pumps and carry stuff.”

“You’re kind of evil,” Petra said with a slow grin. “I love it.”

Still laughing, Sara embraced her. It was a nice feeling. All her life, she’d had brothers—and she completely adored them—but this . . . this was something special, female . . . And she wanted it to last.

“Hey,” Petra said, “are you getting nervous?”

“You mean, for the birth?”

Petra nodded.

“A little.” She shifted her bags to her other hand. “But I have Alexander. He’s going to get me through it, deal with my cursing and my death grip on his hands during contractions.”

Petra laughed.

“And you have Syn. Right?”

Her laughter softened, then downgraded to a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah. I guess I do.”

Above them the sun had been overtaken completely, and the world was suddenly plunged into a cold shade of gunmetal. “What is it?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. I’m happy . . .”

“But you’re worried something will screw up that happiness?”

“Pretty much.”

Snow started to fall as Sara dropped her packages and took Petra’s hand. “Listen, I know this didn’t happen right, and I heard all that you said about the past and the present and my mother, but I want you to know I care about you. I’m here for you if you ever want to talk, or bitch.” She grinned. “Or just hang out. I really want us to be friends, and maybe someday”—she shrugged—“sisters.”

“I’d like that too.” Petra gave her a quick hug, then eased back and smiled. “I’ll see you later?”

“You got it,” Sara said with a smile of her own. She picked up her bags, gave a wave, then headed down the street.

Petra entered the building and seconds after she hit the elevator button realized she’d forgotten to get a key from Synjon before she’d left. Thankfully the concierge remembered her, took one look at her belly and all the packages, and supplied her with one.

The ride up to the penthouse was quick, and after she battled her packages to the door, she entered the apartment with a thankful sigh. It was dark and quiet, and after dropping the bags in the living room, she went to look for Syn. But the rest of the place was just as dark, just as quiet. Strange—he hadn’t said anything about going out when she’d left this morning. And it was daytime.

Maybe he was downstairs at the gym, or maybe he knew about the tunnels below the city that Sara had told her about today, and was hanging out with the Roman brothers. He seemed to have a relationship with the very blond, sarcastic one, Lucian.

Gathering up her packages again, she headed into her room. She set them on the desk, glanced at the bed and thought about grabbing a nap. It was good for Syn to have some normal chill time with friends. She couldn’t imagine he did that often. She looked for her robe, the soft, black silk one she liked to sleep in when she wasn’t sleeping naked with Syn, but it wasn’t where she’d left it. Or thought she’d left it.

Tossing her coat over the end of the bed, she left her room and headed for Syn’s. No doubt she’d left it in there, and maybe she would just take her nap in his bed instead of her own. She grinned as she entered his room, which still held the scent of their lovemaking from the night before. Yes, definitely in here. And when Syn came home, he could just strip and crawl under the covers with her.