Hell's Belle (26 page)

“How old are you, Jacqueline Slone, peacemaker, Council operative…mystery extraordinaire?” Trying for humor, I forced the words past a tight throat and looked at her. Jacq’s lips parted in surprise. It was a small opening but enough to draw my eyes for a moment. Even when my heart was breaking, I found her attractive. When she finally answered, it was my turn to be taken aback.

Jacq watched me with worried eyes. “I was born over six hundred years ago.”

I sucked in a breath. That was much older than I’d expected.

Only the truth would do, but it still hurt to say out loud. Saying the words made them more real. “I’m twenty-nine. I’ll live to be about a hundred and fifty…assuming some lucky bail jumper or evil overlord wannabe like Nicodemus doesn’t take me out before then.” I turned my face toward the window. Tears threatened to bubble over.
Why was I crying?
We’d met only days ago. Yet, all the pain from the day that had been hidden in my icy fortress—the sorrow of hurting Luke, the desolation of learning so much had been hidden from me by the women I’d trusted most—all of it threatened to pour out. “I can’t offer you anything
but
a date.” My voice barely hinted at the moisture building in my eyes.

Jacq moved until she stood beside me. Laying her hand over mine, she leaned forward until she could see my face. I didn’t recognize the emotion brimming in her eyes. Her voice was soft but strong, “There’s no guarantee I’ll live forever or that you won’t live longer. That doesn’t matter right now. I’ve been alone for centuries.”

I looked at her. Jacq smiled, but it didn’t remove the sadness in her eyes. I felt our connection again. It had grown, and with that growth part of her sadness had become my own. I was willing to bear more, if she was willing to share. It wasn’t good to be alone for so long. Three years had been hard on me. How hard must it be to endure more than three hundred? Her next words echoed my thoughts.

“Forever’s not everything the romantics make it to be. Besides…” Jacq grabbed my hand, pulling it to her lips for a chaste kiss. The warm tingle as her magic brushed the skin above my knuckles was becoming a wonderfully pleasant craving. “I’m asking for only one night.” She paused, clasping my hand between hers. “We’ll decide what comes after.”

With her words, the last piece of ice defending my heart shattered. It started with one tear. Then another. Soon, I began to cry in earnest. The crying gradually became large, racking, breath-stealing sobs. Porcelain clinked as Jacq moved our cocoa away from the counter’s edge. Then her warm arms encircled me, muffling my cries against her shoulder, ruining her beautiful cream top. That thought made me cry harder.

“Shh, Cate.” Jacq made soft cooing noises. “If the thought of dating me upsets you so, I won’t ask again.”

“No!” My muffled protest was ardent.

Jacq lifted my chin, brushing aside the tears that continued to fall. “Then why?” Her words were soft but thick as she ran a soothing hand up and down my back. Her own eyes were now glistening.

Please don’t let me make her cry.
I would come completely unglued if that happened. “Can we just say that I’ve had a shitty day and leave it at that?” The pain was washing away with the tears, and I didn’t want to bring it back by sharing all the sordid details. I tried for a smile, which I almost felt. It must have worked because Jacq laughed softly.

“Yes, we can leave it at that…for now. But I hope one day, you’ll tell me.”

I nodded, releasing a massive yawn. I wasn’t going to make it through that talk about me, Luke, and our marriage tonight. Tears still flowed down my cheeks. I swiped them away but they kept coming. I was too blasted tired to turn the spigots off. Too tired to even feel embarrassed. The river of tears would either have to run its course or run dry, whichever came first.

“Come on. You’re exhausted.” Jacq put her arms around my waist and began to guide me out of the kitchen. “Let me help you upstairs.”

I should have protested, but I was feeling wobbly. “What about your cocoa?” My mind was becoming muddled, but this seemed vaguely important.

“We’ll have cocoa another night.” She half-carried me up the stairs.

My legs felt leaden. I was crashing in the worst way. “Oookay. We’ll have it when I bake your cake.” We were nearly to my room, but I didn’t care anymore. It was nice and warm against her side.

“You’re going to bake me a cake?” Jacq’s voice was surprised and excited.

Food must really do it for her. I almost groaned at the thought of what I could do with her and a bowl of chocolate icing. Too bad I was so tired. “Yes, a big chocolate one,” my words were slightly garbled, “to say thank you for keeping the cat out of my bed.”

She pulled back my white comforter then eased me out of my leather pants and boots and onto the mattress. As she turned away, I had one coherent thought. I didn’t want to be alone tonight. “Jacq?”

“Yes, cher?” Voice hushed, she stood at the threshold. I looked at her with slitted eyes. In the dark, she was only a vague silhouette. A silhouette that glowed faintly.

“Stay.” I scooted over, patting the empty spot. “Stay with me.” There was power in a word, and like earlier this evening, I would change the course of my life with only one: “Please.” My drawl, which thickened when I was tired or excited, stretched the word into a near moan.

“Always, all you ever have to do is ask,” Jacq whispered as she moved back into the room.

I blinked twice, trying to comprehend what she’d meant, but it was too much for my tired mind to grasp. As she came to me, she loosened the cream top, then her pants, laying both over the suede love seat. I could just make out a pair of rose-colored tight-cut boy shorts and matching sleeveless shell. I turned on my side, and Jacq slipped in behind me. Her arm wrapped snuggly around my stomach. We fit together perfectly. I began to drift in the warm cocoon of tingles created as her body touched mine nearly from top to bottom.

“Jacq?” I barely breathed her name, feeling more than hearing her hummed reply. My voice drifted in and out. “You said one night?” I could manage that. It wasn’t like a person could lose their heart in that span of time anyway.

Her lips brushed my neck before answering, “Yes, cher, one night. One date.” Her breath fluttered my hair as she rested her head behind mine. “One chance.”

I smiled, feeling a fraction lighter. The last tear I’d cry tonight trickled down my cheek. Just as I fell asleep, I gave her my answer. “Okay, it’s a date.” I drifted into dreams with the sound of her still whispering something that sounded suspiciously like French in my ear.

Chapter Fifteen

“If at first you don’t succeed, shoot the man that got in your way. Then try, try again.”

—Iris (Risa) Legion

Day Eight

I arched, muscles straining, stretching. My arms spread through the sheets, but they were cool and empty. Had it been another dream? No. I turned my head and breathed deep. The scent of sage and sandalwood lingered, trapped in the pillow’s cotton, along with a head-shaped indention, confirming my memories. I rolled over, stretching again. The sun was bright even behind the closed golden drapes. It was time to get up. The last part of the evening was hazy, but I clearly remembered agreeing to go on a date with Jacq.

I pushed my face into the pillow, muffling my groan. Why had I agreed to that? A date would only be trouble. I’d already hurt Luke. I didn’t need anyone else’s feelings on my conscience. Not that I was so wonderful that after one date she’d fall madly in love with me. No, when all was said and done, she’d walk away, and life here would continue on like it always had. I rolled off the bed and my feet hit the old hardwood’s chill, my thoughts far colder.

I took a quick shower, braided my hair, and returned a missed call from Mynx. Then I dressed for war. Mynx and Fera were headed to locate and observe Brittan, Nicodemus’s next target. Jacq and I would join them later. We didn’t expect Nicodemus to try and grab Brittan for another few days, but I wanted all bases covered. There would be someone watching the girl twenty-four-seven. In no shape or form was Brittan to be involved. But I did wish for a way to lure Nicodemus out. A fight on his turf was not appealing. I’d been on the receiving end of too many traps lately. There had to be a way to turn the tables.

There were a slew of hours between now and the meet with Mynx, so it wasn’t necessary to run around my house with whip, sword and stun guns. But I had
that
feeling again. Trouble was on the way, and I wanted to be prepared.

I stepped out of my bedroom and immediately collided with a wet, towel-clad Jacq. The woman was built like a brick house. I hit her solid frame and bounced backward. At my startled “Uff,” she grabbed me with one arm. Fortunately, the other kept her towel firmly closed. When I’d been thinking about turning tables, I hadn’t meant seeing Jacq in a bath cloth-draped position similar to the one she’d caught me in two days ago. Don’t get me wrong—I wasn’t complaining. Her nearly black wet hair was slicked back from her face. I took one deep breath of her delicious smell, felt her damp heat seeping into my light green cargo pants and matching T-shirt, then stepped back.

“I—” I said.

“Sorry—” Jacq said.

We laughed. “You first.” I pointed at Jacq who, for once, looked completely open. The shields that hid her from the world were missing. Maybe she took them off when she removed her clothes. Like a good little scientist my mind wanted to experiment with that hypothesis. I immediately shut my Dr. Frankendelacy mode down.

“The guest bathroom isn’t connected to the guest room.” Jacq shrugged then grabbed for the slipping towel.

I lived here, so that wasn’t news to me. Yet, it had never occurred to me that she’d be walking in a towel from the bathroom down the hall to the guest room—a room I’d originally neglected to tell her about since it was right beside my own.

“Okay,” I replied automatically, distracted by a lone drop of water journeying across her bare collarbone before streaking slowly toward the hidden valley between her breasts. I abruptly turned on my heel, heading for the stairs. I had a sudden craving for a glass of cool, clear water.

“Cate?” Jacq’s query was soft, but in my absentmindedness I spun around sharply. Too sharply. My heel caught in the upturned edge of a new rug Aunt Helena had sent home from her travels. My excuse: I was only half-awake and moving slower than normal. Although sometimes clumsy, I generally had quick reflexes and wouldn’t have tumbled down the stairway, but Jacq didn’t know that. Before I could blink, she’d used her supernatural speed to span the distance, again pulling me close to her chest.

“You keep doing that.” My face was pressed tightly to her neck, my nose brushing the spot where jaw met ear, my voice muffled.
Don’t look down. Don’t look down.
It was hard to repeat my mental mantra and talk too, but I managed. “And you’ve lost your towel.” I didn’t need to see her to know this. I could feel the now unhindered heat and moisture from her bare skin soaking my own. With my boots’ added height, we were nearly breast to breast. Pointed nipples begged for attention by rubbing against me in a decidedly unholy manner. Her other arm, now free of constraining a towel, wrapped tightly around my waist. I had to force myself not to moan in pleasure as warm, magical tingles moved across my skin.

“Doing what?” Jacq murmured. Warm lips pushed my hair aside, brushing a kiss against my temple. I shivered, barely maintaining my train of thought.

“Rescuing me. You seem to have a bad habit of rescuing me.” I continued on, valiantly ignoring the lips now moving downward, toward my ear. “Not that I mind, but it’s enough to give a girl a complex.” Gentle teeth scraped the sensitive spot behind my earlobe, and my words ended on a moan. I clutched at her shoulders, my knees unexpectedly weak. The woman made me melt. It was inconceivable.

We’d never even kissed.

Jacq’s husky whisper interrupted my mental rant. “Cate?” Her grasp tightened. “I’d like…” I was already nodding. I wasn’t sure what she was asking, but it was a good bet that I would like it, too.

“CATE?” I jerked my head back, locking eyes with Jacq. Her pupils widened, her lips moving, but that wasn’t her voice calling my name. Jacq’s frightened, surprised expression at the sound of my aunt yelling up the stairs would’ve been funny had I not been wearing its twin. I had to resist the instant urge to jump out of her arms and race to the other end of the hall.

I stood my ground only because the stairs took a ninety-degree turn halfway up, so Aunt Helena couldn’t see me in the arms of a naked woman. My aunt was pretty open-minded, but she was also big on propriety. I was sure she’d consider it improper, unladylike, and an excellent example of poor judgment to be embracing a dripping, birthday suit-clad woman in the hallway. Those sorts of things were supposed to happen behind closed doors, like the one we were currently on the wrong side of. “You’ve got guests,” Aunt Helena yelled, but more quietly this time.

The wards hadn’t sounded a warning, but my own internal alarms were ringing. I wasn’t expecting anyone. Apparently, along with everything else, this was a week for unexpected guests.

“Be right down!” I shouted over my shoulder, scrambling to answer before my aunt marched up the stairs. At a much lower volume, I spoke to Jacq, whose composure had quickly returned. Her amused smile made me regret the interruption. “No wonder Lady D calls you Miss Hot Stuff.” At her look of consternation, I smiled. “If you dress quickly, you might just have an opportunity to rescue me again.” I felt her begin to pull away. My eyes widened. “Not so fast!” I grabbed her tighter, but this was assuredly more desperation than desire. “I’m going to close my eyes and hold onto the rail here,” I patted the wooden banister that led down the stairs, “while you grab your towel. Tell me when you’re decent.” I closed my eyes, waiting for her signal.

Seconds later, Jacq softly laughed. “I’m
decent
.” At her not-so-subtle innuendo, I snorted, opening one eye. As Jacq turned and walked away, I noticed the edges of a tattoo on her left shoulder, rising above the white towel. One golden, flaming wing rippled as her muscles moved before she ducked through her door.