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Authors: Jacquelyn Frank

Jacob (13 page)

BOOK: Jacob
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Jacob’s hand slid down her belly, and Isabella was inundated with sensation coming from so many different places all at once. She had never known her senses could be so aroused, so tormented. Then his fingertips slid past the border of her panties, sliding silkily into the collection of curls hidden beneath the lace.

Her reaction was like tinder suddenly catching a flame. She made a wild, mewling sound, her hands flying out to her sides to suddenly grip whatever she could get hold of. Her fingers curled tightly around spines and tightly packed pages. Her whole body clenched violently, her hands jerking the books clean off the shelves. They slammed to the floor, dual bangs that marked the slip of first one finger, and then another, into wet, silky flesh.

Isabella was filled with an unexpected, wild terror. No one had ever touched her in this manner. In fact, no one had ever done half of the things to her that Jacob had been doing. As she gasped hysterically for breath and looked down at her body in his embrace, she realized that her wanton reactions would have never given that particular fact away.

“Jacob!” she cried, her hands scraping frantically at his shoulders as her fear mounted, choking off her ability to breathe.

“Shh, little flower, I will not hurt you.” The soothing tone of his voice washed over her, dulling every sharp edge of fear just slightly. “Just feel, Bella. Feel what my touch can create in you.”

His voice was hypnotic and seductive, as if he had Legna’s power to affect the will of others with it. She knew without a doubt that he spoke the truth. If she just relaxed, he would show her everything—every last thing she had dreamed of, and even things she could never have imagined. As she hesitated, as she was lured by that temptation, Jacob slid a long, seeking finger into the sheath of her body.

Bella gasped, the stuttering intake of sound reverberating loudly in the enormous library. Jacob exhaled a heated curse in his own language, the word clearly meant as an intense, expressive compliment. She laughed at him breathlessly, without knowing why. Probably because of the rise in sensation and frustration the intimate touch created.

Jacob felt her shudder, marveled at how tight she felt around his finger, how her very insides quivered with delicious, eager little spasms. He could pleasure her, just like this, make her completely mad with sensation and passion until she had no choice but to explode with it.
Sweet Destiny, who would have thought she could be so responsive?
Never had a woman fired so hotly under his touch. Never had a woman set him to burn as his little Bella was so easily able to do. She had her legs wrapped around both the man and the no-longer-hidden beast that were his make-up, and no one could ever have touched him that profoundly before. He pressed his thumb against the swell of feminine flesh that he knew would fill her with sensation, rubbing in minute, slow circles, moving his touch with deft, compelling skill in a stroking mock of what he would soon be doing to her body for real. She moaned, writhing against him, her reactions making him burn hotter and harder for her until he thought he might explode under the erotic duress. He wanted to rip free of the confines of his clothing, slide the throbbing and painful hardness of his aching sex against her... toying at that tight entrance for a moment before plunging himself deep into that taut, honeyed prison he was positive was meant to capture him and hold him forever. He pushed his insistent finger a little deeper into her body, just a moment longer, wanting to be fully assured that she was ready for him...

Resistance.

Jacob went very, very still. Something extremely important was swimming on the outside of his awareness, but he was deeply consumed with his need for her, instincts created at the birth of the Earth chaining him to his course. He broke out in a terrible sweat as she wriggled mindlessly against his frustratingly, abruptly still touch. So wet, and hot... and so tight.

Unused.

The realization hit Jacob like ice water.

Suddenly, reality came washing back in on him. Everything. All of it. He closed his eyes, groaning with agony as his body rebelled against his impulses to follow his sense of moral right. The beast in him argued that he had already gone too far, that he had broken all threads with honor the moment he had plotted to come to her without monitoring. What was more, Isabella was protesting against his cruel touch that made contact but did not fulfill the promise of pleasures he now realized she didn’t realistically comprehend. How had he missed this important truth all this time he had traveled as a shadow in her mind?

Jacob realized he had not missed it. He had simply chosen to ignore the clues on a subconscious level because it would have interfered, as it was now doing, with his selfish desires. So now, he found himself in a position that tore him in two conflicting directions. If he did not leave her immediately, he would damage her badly, perhaps beyond all repair, as the risk of his darker nature taking over plagued him. But on the other hand, leaving her would be damaging in another sense. It screamed at everything Jacob was to not leave her so tormented, so close to pleasure, but left with the pain of being unfulfilled.

Jacob made a choice, slipping his touch out of her body, cringing at the agony of her confused protest.
Better this than the alternative.
They had come far too close as it was.

Isabella felt tears springing into her eyes, her face turning away from him as he slid her gently down onto her feet. His gentility only served to make her want to shatter even more. Her hands opened and closed on his shirtfront as she swallowed the rushing urge to sob out loud.

“Why?” she choked out instead. “Why?”

The plaintive question sent a sensation of betrayal slicing through Jacob’s midsection. He had come here, knowing he should not. He had been unable to resist the lure, had lied to them both when he’d said he was fully in control, and had almost robbed her of everything precious and innocent she possessed. But her state of naïveté wasn’t even the issue. He had once again fallen prey to her unintentional lure, disregarded the laws that he, above all others, was sworn to uphold.

“Bella,” he croaked, the damp of wild frustration wetting his dark eyes. Rage swirled through him. It was all he could do to speak. “Forgive me. I beg you. Forgive me.”

Then he was launching away from her, hurtling into the air, disintegrating into a dust devil that escaped the room as rapidly as she blinked her eyes. The room shook with his departure, the floor shuddering and the shelves rocking slightly as a rumble roared through. The gaslights hanging from the ceiling swayed.

Isabella dropped to her knees, suddenly too weak to stand, too stunned to cry. With numb fingers, she redressed herself. She was half blind with anguish by the time the room settled. Fully clothed once more, she tried to pretend that every nerve of her body wasn’t wishing it, too, could leap up into the night sky in order to chase after the Demon who had left her so bereft.

She had no recourse for her feelings. She felt a horrific sense of deprivation and loss, an emotion she could only describe as grief. She didn’t understand, and she had no one she could speak with to help her figure things out. Logically, she knew why he had shut down, why he left without explanation. It was self-explanatory. She was human. She was too weak to make love with him. She was considered a lesser being, like a clever pet, and a taboo resource for passion.

She reached up to rub the deeply sore mark he had branded her shoulder with. This mark had not been thoughtless. He had made it with purpose. She had felt every ounce of the intention that had gone into it. Jacob didn’t think her below him. She wore the proof embedded in her skin. However primitive an act it had been, it had been a symbol of commitment from him, and it had meant as much to her.

She reached up and angrily fisted tears from her cheeks, sniffling as she turned to look around. It was these laws and words surrounding her that had dictated he leave. This was the history of a race of elitists. Snobs, part of her thought meanly. Their traditions were steeped in implacable beliefs, and the one she was facing, she believed, was a prejudice. Demons had a thing about purity. It wasn’t just humans who earned titles below their almighty culture. She had read the law herself, the one that had given birth to Jacob’s duties so long ago:

... it is therefore forbidden for any of Demonkind to mate with creatures who are not of their nature, not of their strength or power. Those lesser creatures are ours to protect from ourselves, not to be violated in impure sexual abomination. This is the law. The dog does not lie with the cat; the cat does not lie with the mouse. Whosoever breaks this sacred trust must suffer under the hand of the law...
She wanted to believe there was logic to this. She was a logical person. But there was never logic in encompassing statements, especially those written thousands of years ago, which, as she understood it, this one had been.

She had seen Saul. He was proof of the danger within every Demon, and she could accept that they were a volatile species in spite of their many efforts to be otherwise. Nevertheless, if she were cat to Jacob’s dog, then why did they feel this way? Why would two incompatible species find themselves so... so well made for each other’s needs?

Noah believed her to be unique, that she had a purpose in the future of Demon society. At first, Isabella had gone along with the idea just so she could stay and find out everything she could about this world of beings living parallel to her own. She would have been content to die a pale old lady in this library. There was more than enough knowledge within it to keep her sated for an entire lifetime.

But now...

Now she was beginning to believe she truly did have a purpose for being there. Maybe she was meant to find a way to kick the supreme starch out of their shorts. Yes. Something in this library could perhaps explain why every time Jacob barked, she purred.

She laughed at herself weakly. She looked around herself and saw the books she had accidentally pulled down lying on the floor. She scooted over to them to gather them up. She handled them gingerly, apologetically, sorry she had so mistreated them for so unrealized a moment. She dusted the front cover of one of them, reading the title.

Destruction
.

She shuddered, not liking the ominous title in the least. Once again she was given proof of the extremism of the Demon race. She stood to replace the book, but suddenly she stopped. She blinked slowly, and clearing her mind of the last of her disturbed feelings, she looked at the title again.

Destruction
.

Unexpectedly, she felt faint, the world spinning around her as the book dropped from her nerveless fingers.

She had just read the title of a book that was written in a language she had not been able to read only twenty minutes earlier.

Noah’s cat-green eyes followed Jacob’s pacing across his receiving-room floor, a frown etched into his mouth as his Enforcer’s disturbance rubbed his senses raw.

It was clear Jacob was not going to share his thoughts willingly, and Noah was left to speculate. Jacob was as honest, dutiful, and loyal a soul as he had ever encountered. He was, in fact, more devotedly Demon than many of the Elder Demons were. His belief in their ways, laws, and code of honor was so pure that Noah could not help but respect him for it. This was why it troubled Noah to see Jacob so embroiled in what was clearly a turmoil of conscience. He did not broach the Enforcer, though, no matter how powerful the urge to do so. Instead, he sat quietly as the other Demon wore a path in his floor.

Then, simultaneously, the males were jolted out of their ruminations and their heads swung toward the doorway leading into the Great Hall. Three heartbeats later, the doors burst open, allowing a flock of Demons and a dismayed servant entrance.

“Forgive me, Sire, but they would not let me announce them. They just pushed past!” the servant panted, his consternation flushing his normally tanned face.

“That is alright, Ezekiel,” Noah said, making a gentle sign of dismissal that absolved the other male of responsibility. Noah narrowed his attention on the nine Demons walking toward him, recognizing the remaining Elders of the Great Council, save the Warrior Captain, Elijah.

“Welcome to my home, Councillors.” He nodded to them and then focused on their apparently self-declared leader. “Ruth, would you care to explain what it is that brings you in such an impromptu throng?”

“Noah, it has come to our attention that you are aware of some happenings that you have not shared with the Council,” Ruth announced, her tone cool and bordering on reproachful. “Would you care to share them with us now?”

“If I did, I would have called you myself,” Noah countered, unapologetic and reminding them all of their failure in protocol with the easy observation. “However, since you have gone to such trouble to gather and approach me, I will discuss recent developments with you.”

Noah rose from his seat and moved from the Hall to the Great Council chamber, aware of Jacob falling into line at his back, all his personal disturbances put aside under the press of this potentially combustible development. Noah took his seat at the point of a large triangular table, Jacob at the second and all the others filling up the three sides in their usual places. Only the third point—other than Elijah’s chair—remained conspicuously empty, as it had for eight years now.

“Very well, Ruth, what is it you wish to know that you do not already?” Noah encouraged, his mildly patronizing tone making the female Demon bristle defensively.

“Is it true that one of us has been Summoned and destroyed?” Ruth had never been one to mince words, for all her persistently troublesome nature.

“Yes. It is. Saul is lost to us.”

A murmur of breath and distress slid down the sides of the table. Noah flicked his eyes to Jacob, finding the Enforcer’s brown-black gaze cold and unreadable.

“Enforcer,” Ruth said, as always refusing to use his common name, “I take it you have hunted and destroyed the creature responsible for this?”

“The necromancer does not exactly wear a bell around his neck, Councillor Ruth. But yes, I hunt him.”

“Hunt.” She spat the present tense at him like a derisive curse. “Which means we are still vulnerable.”

“That would be the logical conclusion,” Jacob returned coolly. “Also, I might remind you that the carriage of justice to other supernatural beings falls within the warriors’ realm. According to our laws and distinctions, the hunt for the necromancer falls under Elijah’s jurisdiction. However, I am in close contact with Elijah on this matter, as I have been the only one to get close to this magic-user. I will continue to assist the Warrior Captain in the hunt for him.”

Jacob’s calm made Ruth realize how badly she was coming off, and her face flushed with her discomfort. She didn’t apologize for herself, however. Jacob knew she never would.

“What are we to do in the meantime, Noah? Sit and wait for the next of us to be snatched from our lives?”

“We have little choice at the moment. As you all know, there is no known protection against Summoning spells. However, you can be assured that Elijah, Jacob, and I are working on the problem.”

“And yet the Enforcer still has time for his other duties,” spoke up Councillor Simon, his thin lips pressed into a deep frown. He was referring to the fact that, the night before, Jacob had been forced to track Simon’s son down and snap him back into line.

“I have time for everything,” Jacob agreed, a feral smile sliding over his lips.

“Noah! Jacob!”

The entire Council jerked in surprise as the chamber door burst open and gave entry to Isabella, her arms loaded with scrolls, her eyes bright lavender points of information that was bursting to be freed. She stopped short when she realized she had intruded on a meeting, and swept her eyes uneasily around the room as a dozen Demon eyes focused solely on her.

“A human!” Simon whispered.

“She has sacred scrolls!” cried another, lurching to his feet.

“Noah, what is the meaning of this?” Ruth exploded, forgetting exactly whom she was addressing. Or perhaps not. Ruth was always in search of a way to jockey with Noah for the authority of a moment.

“Uh-oh... ” Isabella muttered under her breath.

“I did not even sense her presence,” someone whispered.

“Neither did I.”

Jacob rose to his feet, the sound of his chair scraping back slowly over the marble floor piercing through the room and drawing everyone’s attention. All eyes were on him as he came around the table and reached to take the human woman’s shoulder under his hand. He pulled her into the protective circle of his arm and then guided her to his chair and sat her down. Putting Isabella in what was recognized as one of the three most powerful positions of the Council table brought about a collective gasp.

“You
dare
, Enforcer?” Ruth hissed, moving to stand as if she would go around the table and yank the human female from the chair herself.

But the force of Jacob’s cold stare made her still midaction.

“Our most sacred law is to harm no human who does not harm us, Councillor Ruth. Would you transgress right before the eyes of the Demon who would punish you?” he asked, the calm of his voice speaking deep levels of threat. In contrast to this steely warning, Jacob’s hand slipped beneath Isabella’s heavy hair and circled her neck protectively. Noah did not think the Enforcer was even aware he had made the possessive gesture.

“She has no right here,” Ruth argued, the force of the statement well diminished by her shock as she watched the most ruthless man of their kind take the human female under his tender auspices.

“She has information vital to the very questions you have been asking,” Jacob countered smoothly, having touched on this knowledge briefly in her mind.

“Jacob, I don’t think this is a good time,” Bella whispered.

“Nonsense, human. Speak, if you have knowledge,” Simon demanded.

Isabella’s eyes narrowed on the Councillor.

“My name is Isabella,” she snapped.

Simon blinked, clearly not comprehending for a very long minute that a human had just slapped him down. When it came to him, color rushed up his neck.

Noah’s chair being pushed back caught everyone’s attention.

“You will all leave. I will hear Isabella out in private and we will reconvene tomorrow night.”

Isabella instinctively reached up and pressed her fingers to the back of the hand circling her neck. She saw the roomful of Demons stirring in discontent, casting Jacob distrusting looks. She didn’t like the way it felt. Even as they all rose to obey their monarch, Isabella could feel their displeasure.

That was when the first push slammed into her brain.

It began like cold, invading fingers crawling along the back of her scalp. Shards of ice pierced her skull, embedding themselves into her mind like dozens of needles, each strategically placed in her long- and short-term memory in order to suck the knowledge from the synapses that held it.

Isabella jerked in shock, alerting Jacob to the fact that she was in some kind of distress. As the Demons continued to rise, a second push slapped her back in her chair, causing her work to fall helter-skelter to the floor as she threw her hands up to her head. When this invasion failed, there was immediately a third. Bella became aware of the source in a frightening instant. They were trying to force from her the information that Noah would not share. It was causing her head to blossom in pain, and she keened softly in agony. Her thoughts became Jacob’s, and he knew the moment she did what was causing her distress.

“You will stop!” he roared, his voice ricocheting off every surface in the chamber, forcing everyone to fall very still under his outraged threat. “You will obey Noah and wait for your information. You will cease trying to scan Isabella this instant or you will answer to me!”

There were three Mind Demons in the Elder Council, including Ruth, who could be responsible for the attack. All three of them looked utterly shocked, along with the rest of the Elders in the room. Jacob couldn’t tell if it was from his awareness of their actions or merely the threats themselves. He was Enforcer, and there was nothing more frightening in their world than his sense of injustice. His threat was not an idle one, and everyone knew it. Feared it. Even the intractable Ruth. Isabella visibly relaxed as her pain receded and the Demons exited soundlessly.

Noah closed the door after them and instantly moved to Isabella’s side, kneeling beside her chair and taking her chin in his hand so he could turn her head and meet her eyes. It was only then that she realized how angry the silent King had become for her sake. Though there was no outward facial sign, she could see it in the stormy clouds of gray concealing the green of his eyes.

“Bella, are you well?” he asked gently.

Isabella appreciated his concern, especially after facing so much hostility from the strangers who had just left, but there was something disturbing her brain again. This was not painful, but it was familiar. Her violet gaze shifted away from Noah’s, turning to focus on the male standing on the other side of her chair just as his long fingers began to curl into a fist. Her heart began to pound in double-time as she watched Jacob close his eyes, his jaw clenching so tightly she could hear the creak of his teeth. She understood he was trying to force himself to behave with rational care, to not take such violent offense to Noah’s hands being on her, to the King’s zealous concern for her.

“I am fine,” she said softly, forcing as amiable a smile as she could manage over her lips. In truth, she was confused and exhausted. Jacob’s behaviors seemed to vacillate so strongly, so intensely in one direction and then another. She decided to simply focus on his needs of the moment.

Isabella gently extracted her chin from Noah’s grasp under the guise of gathering her discarded work from the floor. The King reached to help her, taking on some of her burden before rising to his feet. He was a good man, Isabella thought, kind and intelligent, thinking of others before himself. Marks of a man meant to be a leader. When Noah was not crossing Bella’s personal space, she could feel how very much Jacob respected him, how devoted he would always be to Noah’s every cause. All he need do was ask, and Jacob would serve him without question and without regard for his own life or safety.

It upset her greatly that she had become a point of discord within that melodic relationship. She thought of the revelations she held cradled against her chest, of how they could potentially serve up more discord, more upset and controversy. Would she be doing this society any good by revealing her new knowledge?

“I... ” She swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you. Really, it’s nothing that can’t wait. Actually”—she stood up and extracted the scrolls from Noah’s hold—“all I wanted was, uh... help with some interpretation. But you are busy... ” She rounded the peculiar triangular table as casually as she could while she spoke, even turning to back out of the room while giving them a bright smile that she hoped did not look as fake as it felt. “You know, there are lots of books down there, and I bet there’s a translation.” She reached up to smack her palm into her forehead, chiding herself for not thinking properly.

Isabella reached for the door and closed it even faster than she had originally opened it.

Noah looked over at Jacob, one dark brow lifting toward his thick hairline.

“Does... ?” He raised a hand to point to the door, looking utterly perplexed. “Does she have
any
idea what a lousy liar she is?”

“Apparently not,” Jacob said with a long, low sigh. “I think that was my fault,” he speculated wryly.

“Your fault?”

“Yeah... it is... a long story. We better get her.”

“Relax,” Noah chuckled. “She’s leaning against the other side of the door, trying to catch her breath.”

“I know. I just thought it would be funny if we opened it behind her.”

“I never knew you actually enjoyed being cruel,” the King remarked, humor sparkling in his eyes as they both stepped up to the exit.

Noah opened the door, and Jacob reached out to catch her, scrolls and all.

BOOK: Jacob
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