Forsaken: The World of Nightwalkers (34 page)

“Oh,” she laughed breathlessly. “So that’s how you want to play?”

“Yeah, that’s how I play,” he agreed, this time twisting his hand when he thrust into her. She moaned, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment, her body weight dropping down to meet the thrust of his burrowing fingers.

Then suddenly it was all her weight on his hand and he was forced to remove it or snap his wrist. And that was how she came to be on her knees before him, her hands dragging down his jeans before reclaiming her hold on his cock and, before he could even register it was happening, put him into the hot haven of her mouth.

“Oh Jesus Mary and Joseph,” he ground out, his hand driving into the cotton white of her hair and fisting tightly. He looked down at her just as she looked up, and he could see the wickedness of her sexual confidence. She knew exactly what kind of hold she had on him right then, and she was going to milk it, and him, for everything he was worth. He felt her swallow around him, felt her run her tongue over that sensitive spot at the base of his cockhead that she had found the first and only night they had made love. She wasn’t pulling any punches, and the sudden increasing draw on him made it abundantly clear.

“No! No! Jesus!” He swore in Spanish and English, respectively, and she laughed, a vibration he felt right down the length of his shaft. He gripped her by her chin and pulled himself away, probably with ease because she was laughing. And with eyes dancing she held up the condom and stretched it out over his engorged penis.

“Now up,” he commanded of her, dragging her up as though she might not obey. But she was on the same page and with a lunge that put her up on her toes and then, after he reached down for her thighs, had her wrapping her legs high around his waist, she guided him into her eager body, pressing down on him bit by bit, both of them exclaiming in sounds of need as he advanced in one movement…two…and then finally was seated deep inside her. Then he grabbed hold of her hip with one hand and the wall with the other and began to meet her thrust after thrust after thrust. They probably should have checked the pleasured moans escaping them, but it simply didn’t matter to them. They were in the moment for the sake of the moment and not caring about anything else.

And it was because of that focus that they could forget about what might happen. It was because of that focus that they could give in to the wild pleasure coursing through them on such a primal level. He surged into her again and again, as if he were looking to reach a core of her she didn’t know she had. Leo couldn’t have felt more aroused than he already was. There was no level of excitement beyond this. Not even when riding on the edge of danger, not even when he risked his life, betting it against the worst of odds. Only then had he ever felt truly alive, but in this moment, with the electrical sensation of her running through him, this outshone it by far.
This
was what being alive felt like.

And he never wanted it to end. But the end was coming faster every second. He ought to have slowed down a little, savored it a little, but he couldn’t help himself and only went faster and harder the closer the climax came. And then, just like that, he shot over the crest, pleasure ripping through him as he burst inside of her, the glory of the moment dragging everything he had into the orgasm.

His knees gave way and they slid down the wall together, Faith resting in his lap, head thrown back, gasping for breath. Leo realized with shock that he didn’t even know if she had come.

“Did you…?” he asked frantically.

“What? Oh! Yes,” she laughed breathlessly. “Yes. Very much so.”

“Oh. Good.” He chuckled. He had completely lost his head. And as he came to better awareness of the world around him, he realized where they were, what they had sounded like, and what the odds were that they had been overheard.

Jesus, what had gotten into him? He’d been avoiding her at all costs, but even running into her like that, he would never have expected it to end like this. But she had kissed him and that had been the end to all of his rational thought.

Just a single kiss and he’d been utterly lost.

Faith could see him working out things in his head, and as he did, tension returned to his body. She could see the writing on the wall…and on his scroll. He was realizing what a mistake this had just been. That it had ruined his plans, whatever those might be. All she knew was that his plans didn’t include her.

“Wow,” she said, forcing her legs to work and hauling herself up off him, trying not to react to the deficit she felt when he slid free of her body. “That was unexpected. But I’m supposed to…” She fished for something while trying not to look like she was floundering for an excuse. “Ahnvil wanted me to help him out with something.”

“A Gargoyle needing help?”

“Yes,” she laughed. “Gargoyles need help, too. I think he’s looking for opinions on his new garden. Anyway, I better go, I’m already late.”

She had smoothed her dress down and stepped out of his reach before he could react. She went to the door, grasping the knob, forcing him to hastily worry about his state of undress as her exit threatened to expose him to the outside world. Not that he was shy, but he was courteous of Jackson and Marissa’s home, and it was bad enough he had played the part of the naughty guest as it was.

“Faith!”

Faith heard him call her at the last minute, but she hurried through and shut the door regardless. After all, what could he possibly have to say. “Don’t get any ideas.” “This was a mistake.” “Nothing has changed.”

She didn’t want to hear him speak the words aloud, even though all of them were true. It was enough that she was forced to come to that conclusion; she didn’t have to feel the wounds of his words as well.

And now she would go. She would huddle over her new memories like a miser huddles over his gold. They were far from being as tender as their previous assignations had been, but they were hers, and no one could take them away from her. She could remember the heat and fire of it all in the future…a future she knew was about to get very lonely.

She walked out the front door minutes later, peeled off her borrowed dress, and let it fall to the porch floor. With a deep breath she extended her wings, wriggling them into full extension, sighing with a combination of relief…and regret. But she shoved away from the regret as she shoved away from the porch, her body launching into the air.

She ought to have taken her leave of Jackson and his household politely, but perhaps they would understand.

She was leaving the way she had come. Unexpectedly. And she was leaving with what she had arrived with.

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Faith had been home only for an hour before her mother had descended on her, demanding a recounting of all that had happened. Faith hadn’t even thought that her father had told her about her mission. She hadn’t gone to her father’s house specifically so she could avoid too much attention and too many questions. She needed a minute. She needed a minute to mourn what she had lost.

She had been as detailed as was necessary with her mother…leaving out the intimacies she had shared with a mortal man. Her mother, in a word, was a snob. Oh, she was a decent person overall, but she was definitely a snob. She had plans for her children, and Faith was very certain they didn’t include one of them running off to be lover to a human man.

Fortunate then, that that human man did not want a lover.

“You look simply awful, darling,” her mother had cooed, genuine concern in her eyes as she’d examined Faith for the damage she had suffered. “I take it you need to rest before resuming your duties? Is that why you’ve come here? I know you find it much less taxing here.”

“Mother, don’t start.” Her mother was constantly in a silent competition with her father to be better than he was for her. To offer more, to be more enticing, to possibly deserve more loyalty. Her mother was not petty, merely competitive, and the father of her eldest child was her favorite contestant.

“I’m fine, Mother. I just need a day or two to decompress, then I’ll return to Father.”

“Yes, of course,” her mother agreed gently. “Well, it’s entirely up to you, dear. Are you sure you’re all right? You seem a little…off.”

“I’m fine,” Faith said. “I’ll see you in the evening.”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” her mother said. “Your brother was in some trouble, too.” At this her entire visage fell and she began to wring her hands in a rare show of stress. Her mother kept her cool quite well in even the worst of circumstances, which was an excellent quality in the leader of the Australian Night Angels. But when it came to the well-being of her children, most specifically her beloved son who lived with her—as opposed to Faith, who had chosen to live with her father—she worried for him ferociously and tried to protect him at every turn, even though Faith’s brother was far and above capable of taking care of himself. “We found him nearly beaten to death in his home.”

“Oh no! Is Dax all right?”

“Well, I suppose he is now. Physically, in most respects. But I am not so certain about mentally,” her mother said, trailing off at the end and looking very concerned indeed.

“I’ll have to go and check up on him.”

“But you just got back from the States,” her mother said worriedly. But despite her protests, Faith could tell her mother wanted her to do exactly that, and as soon as possible.

“It’s no trouble.” She would rather stay there and keep busy than set foot in her father’s house, back in his domain and on the same continent as…

No…no, Faith, don’t do this to yourself. Otherwise, every time you step into North America you’ll want to search for a man who doesn’t want anything more to do with you.

There was no explaining just how badly that knowledge hurt. And besides, it wasn’t as though she should be shocked. She had known all along that he wouldn’t be capable of…

That wasn’t true. All along she had known he
was
capable. Thanks to Grey she had known almost from the start that he was very much capable of loving her. What hurt was that he didn’t seem to want it in spite of what he had seen. In spite of what they had shared. Grey had showed him how deeply they could come to care for each other and still he rejected it. Grey had shown them how amazing life together would be…

The future had changed, yes, but did it have to be the entire future? Why couldn’t it just be the part where Marissa is driven mad with grief that changes? Why couldn’t the rest stay the same? Couldn’t he see it could stay the same?

Dax stood staring into the fireplace of his father’s home. He had been living with his father ever since…

He closed his eyes and sighed. At least he could close his eyes, he thought with gratitude. It had been a week before he had been able to do so without the horror of that night replaying in constant detail. Details he would not share with anyone. Anyone except his closest friend…his father.

“Have you been sleeping?” Balthazar asked his son as he entered the room and found him standing pensively before the fireplace.

“No,” he answered truthfully. “I have to do something about this, Father. I can’t just let it be.”

“I know you feel that way, Dax, but you also know there is nothing that can be done right now.”

“I can’t just do nothing!” Dax shouted out suddenly, his fist smashing into the mantelpiece and making the objects on it jump in place. “She has stolen from me! I cannot let it go!”

“I think I have some information about this,” Balthazar said carefully, watching his son closely. “It involves your sister.”

“Faith?”

“Yes,” he said. He could hardly begin to understand the pain Dax was in. He could barely empathize. He couldn’t cope with the idea of what he had been through, nor did he know how he would have acted had it been himself. Which, from what he was learning, could very easily have been the case. But this deviant who had done this had not risked targeting one of the rulers of the Night Angel world…instead he had gone after an heir. Good stock, but not yet enough experience to be able to take on something of that power and magnitude.

Balthazar had only recently learned about what Faith had been through. Slowly he explained to his son how a Bodywalker was not a Bodywalker…but a demon god in the guise of a Bodywalker. Every word was like a nail in Dax’s hide, a physical pain that was unendurable.

“Faith is coming to check on you. She is concerned for you.”

“You didn’t tell her—?” Dax turned hard about to look at his father.

“Know me better than that, Dax.”

Dax deflated. “Yes. Yes, of course. I’m sorry. I know you wouldn’t betray my confidence. But what you are telling me makes this even worse than before. This god is using a part of me to bring terror to this earth. He must be destroyed.”

“Before or after the birth of your child, Dax?”

Dax flinched as his father knew he would. But he had to remind his son that there was an innocent life standing between Dax and any vengeance he sought to deliver.

“And there
will
be a child. As a god he can manipulate the workings of his mortal body on all levels. There is no way to doubt that.”

“An innocent child,” Dax said quietly. “But imbued with the power of an imp god? How innocent will it be for how long a time?”

“That is hard to tell. The future will play its hand as it will. We will keep the heirophants close and await the opportunity we seek. Time for vengeance will come, but it will have to be well thought out.”

“Can Faith’s sister, Dahlia, come to stay, do you think?” he asked. “She is the most powerful heirophant of all. If anyone will find the right future, it will be her.”

“I will ask Faith to make the request once she gets here.” Balthazar rested a supportive hand on his son’s shoulder. “The right time will come. Believe me when I say that.”

“Oh, it will come,” Dax assured in return. “It
will
come.”

Faith left Dax within an hour of arriving. Dax had told his father only about the true nature of the attack against him, but he had realized while Faith was there that if he were going to get any kind of solution to the dire challenge in front of him, he would very likely need the help of his mother and, perhaps, his sister’s father, Desmond. Or even more than that, he had realized when his sister had explained to him exactly what he was dealing with. Not that he had needed any further explanations. He had known in the moment, as he’d been crushed down into the floor, that he was being molested by a power of sickening proportions.