My Immortal Assassin (18 page)
D
id Kynan hurt you earlier?” Durian leaned against the bathroom door while Gray splashed water on her face.
The lights were out in his room; they’d probably blown a fuse when the proofing gave out. The lighting was limited to the dim glow from the constructs Durian had conjured. Even here an acrid scent of death and magic hung in the air. The medallions remained in place but several were nothing but misshapen lumps and most were blackened to some degree or another. A few were charred to nothing.
Gray looked a little pale, and he couldn’t help worrying about the aftereffects of her incident with Kynan Aijan. The warlord had not been under very good control at the time. She stood leaning over, one hand on the edge of the sink, and took a deep breath. He snatched a towel from the rack and handed it to her. He made a note to make sure her things were moved down here.
“Thanks.” She dried her face, folded the towel in half lengthwise and hung it up. “No,” she said. “He didn’t.”
“It did not look or feel that way.”
“No question, Kynan’s really something,” she said. “But no.”
“Can I ask what happened?”
Gray propped her hands on the edge of the pedestal sink. “He was mageheld once.”
Durian nodded. “To Álvaro Magellan.”
“I don’t know how much I should say.” Her gaze focused on the sink, then slid to him.
“It’s no secret Magellan abused Kynan.” Durian touched his chest then dropped his hand. “He had a weapon in Kynan. Magellan did not hesitate to use it.”
“It was worse than that,” she said in a soft voice. “Bastard mage.” In the dimness, her hair looked black instead of bright red, and he wondered if he was seeing her as she had once been. Before.
“You’re certain you’re well?”
“Yes.” She pushed off the sink, and he followed her out of the bathroom. He was feeling a little lost. He considered himself an experienced lover. He’d certainly taken his share of women to bed, but he didn’t know what to do about Gray. No relationship he’d had in the past put him at risk of anything but the possibility of bad sex. “What’s the deal with Leonidas?”
“In what sense?”
“Is he very powerful?”
“Yes.”
She stood in the middle of the room, hands on her hips, facing him. “Nikodemus is going to want a deal with him.”
“Nikodemus is creating a new history for us.” Durian could remember, now, all the reasons he’d once believed so passionately in Nikodemus. And perhaps still did. “He’s right. The killing must stop.”
“I’ll second that.”
“There is another of the kin, his name is Harsh, who has been traveling on his behalf, talking to the other warlords and mages. I imagine Harsh is probably why Leonidas is here. From what I hear, the situation in Europe is rapidly disintegrating. A good many of the surviving free kin came here or to other locations where the magekind were not so aggressive. It’s also rumored, and I’ve heard this from multiple sources, that there are fewer magekind being born. Even here. Fewer magekind. Fewer of the free kin.”
“You think Leonidas will be the same as Christophe?”
“That is uncertain.”
“Can he be trusted?”
“He’s a mage, Gray.” He walked closer to her, now deeply suspicious of her intentions. “What are you thinking?”
She shrugged. “It’s stupid I guess. Just whether he meant that about studying me.”
“I can assure you, he did mean it.” He put his hands on either side of her face. She wasn’t closing down their link, and he didn’t back off. Not from what he was feeling and not from touching her as if she had been born to the kin. “Don’t get caught up in anything Nikodemus wants. It’s enough that you’re bound over to him as you are. Leave well enough alone.”
“You don’t.”
“I have obligations to him that you do not.”
“Because you don’t leave well enough alone.”
He tightened his hands on her and lost his struggle not to smile. She was right, after all. “Gray.”
“I can’t help even if there’s a way? Even if he agrees to give up his magehelds? You can’t be serious.”
“I didn’t say that.” She was right. Hell, she was right about that.
“You meant it.” She looked determined. Like the warrior she was. She jabbed a finger at him. “This has nothing to do with my loyalty to you. If you don’t have the guts to accept my help, too bad. I’ll do it on my own. You aren’t my boss, my father or godfather, or anything else. You can’t stop me, Durian.”
He nodded. “No, I can’t. However, I am permitted to express my concern for your safety. Leonidas is a very powerful mage, and unlike most of the other kin sworn to Nikodemus, you have no protection against being taken mageheld.”
“I appreciate the warning. Thank you.” They stood there, inches apart, staring at each other. “I’ll try not to do anything stupid, okay?”
His hands slid to her shoulders. “You are an honorable woman, Grayson Spencer.”
“Isn’t this much better?” she said. “When we agree like two civilized people?”
“I haven’t agreed to anything.”
Her smile was so heart-stoppingly tender he knew he was in trouble. “You don’t really need to, do you?” She closed the distance between them.
“I suppose not.” He didn’t back away. When she kissed him, he did nothing to discourage her. In fact, he kissed her back with the thought
at last
echoing in his head. At last, he was kissing her where they would be private. At last. At last.
She pushed up on her toes because he was taller than she was, and there she was, pressed against him the way he’d been thinking of all too often. His body reacted with a surge of pure lust, and he was unable to think of anything except her. She kept kissing him, her mouth was soft and gentle on his. Her breasts pressed against him, her hips, and he wanted this.
Gray pulled back, her eyes searching his face. “Wow,” she said.
After a very long time, when he was reasonably sure he had himself under control, he said, “I promised I would not require sex of you. This is not required, Gray. You can say no to this.”
“You did promise me that.” She cocked her head and gave him a smile that belonged in the bedroom. “But I didn’t promise that.”
“True.” His fingers tightened on her, and he brought her back to him. “You didn’t.”
This time he held back so little that holding her, kissing her, was as blistering hot as he’d ever imagined. He wasn’t even in her head and this was still hotter than anything he could remember.
There must be a reason, Durian thought, that he should not do this. But he couldn’t think of one that outweighed her acceptance of him. Gray had her arms wound around his shoulders, and she had already taken him to task for deciding without consulting her, so he didn’t stop her. She could certainly push him away if she didn’t want the intimacy.
He pulled back, not far but far enough to realize his hands were low on her hips, keeping her hard against him. “What we have just been through—” His hands stayed on her hips, almost to her backside—hell, he had his hands on her ass “—The fighting. It makes the need for contact more intense.”
“Got it.”
“You’re certain?”
“I know what I want, Durian.”
He drew a breath and said, “Good.”
“Very.”
He slid a hand along her throat and up to cradle the back of her head and press her mouth to his neck, silently demanding that she do more than kiss him. She did. She bit him, not as hard as he might have liked, but hard enough. He lowered his head to hers, allowing her plenty of time to pull away. She didn’t. She stepped forward and while her head tipped up and to the side, one of her hands cupped the nape of his neck.
So he kissed her again. Gently to start, familiarizing himself with the softness of her mouth. He ended up holding her head between his hands. The edge of his left palm rested partially at her temple; at the point of contact, his skin twitched whenever any of her traceries moved underneath.
Her lips were soft. So soft. For him, the world dropped away. Gray in his arms was heaven. One of her hands moved to his waist then down, around his hip to his ass, pulling him against her while he broke apart inside. He didn’t want her to think about the last time she’d had sex or any of the things Tigran had done to her, and yet he was not certain he could be as gentle as she needed.
His other hand moved downward from her shoulder, along her ribs, slipping, skidding, fumbling a little, then sliding underneath her shirt so he could spread his fingers over her bare skin. His skin to hers. A low growl came from the back of his throat.
This need for her, he knew, was not usual. Touching was common among the kin. They craved such contact almost as a matter of course, but this sexual response, his need to possess her because she was female, that was not an impulse he should indulge. But he was going to do it anyway.
His fingertip brushed over the piercing in her navel, and when he felt the echo of her response to that touch, he went back and brushed over the metal again, swept down the skin beneath and around, then tugged on the charm, lightly, but it was enough to make her press against him. She had a firm, muscled body, and he already knew how precisely she commanded her physical form.
He was nearly out of his mind with wanting her, slipping away into territory far from a safe return. He drew back, though his arms stayed around her. Her upper body bowed against him, bridging what little space there was between them. She opened her mouth beneath his, kissing him harder, and he struggled not to respond in kind.
Not too rough
. He had to keep himself under control.
Except her fingers tightened over his shoulders, and she bit his lip. Not hard, but enough, and that was not the response of a woman who was remembering past trauma.
He drew away and met her gaze and his hands went on moving despite his better intentions. He cradled her head, tangling his fingers in her hair, and angling her head for another kiss. She opened herself to him so that her physical state was absolutely unmistakable. The moment threatened to incinerate them both.
“Gray…”
She said, “You’re holding back. Stop it.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I know what you are. You won’t frighten me.” She slid her hands down his back until her palms rested in the small of his back. Her eyes were half lidded so he got only a glimpse of her pale blue eyes. “I’ll tell you if I’m not okay with something you do, all right?”
“As you wish.”
“Oh, yes.” Her voice was low and sultry. “I wish.”
He kissed her with a great deal less delicacy than before. Much less. God knows, she was strong. Resilient. And she was right. If he crossed a line she didn’t want crossed, she’d tell him. Gray leaned into him and held on tight, giving back as good as she got.
She put her hands on his chest, just below his shoulders and pushed him backward to the futon, following with him so they remained touching the entire time they walked; him backward, her forward. She was in his head, and at first he welcomed the contact because it meant he felt her arousal even more intensely. They ended up with him on the mattress and her straddling his hips. He went still. She gave him a look that smoldered and pressed him down.
On instinct, he resisted, then realized she must be interpreting his reluctance as stemming from some lack of desire on his part. He lay back.
When he was stretched out, with him carefully controlling his reaction, she propped her hands on either side of his head and leaned over him. It helped that he wanted her so badly he hurt. And it helped, too, that he was moving his hands up and down her spine, sliding around to her breasts, and yes. Hell yes. He wanted her like this, moaning for him. Because of him. Once he had his hands full of her softness, passing a finger over her nipples, he acknowledged there wasn’t any going back. Whatever happened, she would never harm him. That wisp of magekind magic would never be used against him.
She gave him a questioning look. “You okay?”
“Come here.”
“Maybe not quite yet.”
He watched a wicked smile appear on her mouth when she reached down and covered his sex with her hand. Her head bent to watch what she was doing. The urge to put her on her back and strip her naked was just about irresistible. Until he caught a glimpse of her pale blue eyes before her lids lowered. The heat there sent a thrill of arousal through him. He stayed right the hell where he was. He was outrageously aroused.
Her fingers closed around him and stroked up through the material of his pants. He caught his lower lip between his teeth and lifted his pelvis toward her hand. Her lashes fluttered, and he saw glimpses of that icy blue that, right now, were about a million miles from cold.
“Jesus, Durian,” she said in a voice so full of frank appreciation that he had to laugh. She unfastened the buttons at his waist and drew down the zipper. Slowly. Lithe creature that she was, she got his pants off him with a minimum of fuss. He had on a pair of close-fitting cotton boxers and those were next. She hooked her fingers in the waist of his boxers and pulled down, careful but quick about it. Before he closed his eyes, he got a glimpse of her red hair and thought it was the most erotic thing he’d seen in his life. He opened his eyes to watch her again.
She addressed his pelvis with a heartening reverence. “God, you’re beautiful.”
His breath hissed when her hand touched his naked cock. She was already bending over him when he put his hands on her head. Her fingers angled down and she cupped his balls in her palm. “Your mouth,” he said in a voice that rumbled from deep in his chest. “Please.”
He lifted his hips toward her as she obliged him. The heat and pressure of her fingers, her mouth, and her tongue rocketed him toward orgasm. His fingers touched her lips, feeling her around him, and it wrung him out. As the crest hit him, he shouted.
When it was over and he could think again, he got his hands around her waist and with a twist of his hips and thigh, put her on her back. She stretched out beneath him, in no different a state than he was, shoving herself back just enough to sit up. He leaned in and stripped off her shirt, and while her arms were still in the air—her abs were damned ripped—he reached in and divested her of her bra. Up and up, and her arms raised up. There.