Play of Passion (13 page)

She stared, suspicious. “I don’t smell anything.” The scent of him—wild and earthy and a little rough—curled around her in an almost physical caress . . . until her wolf growled and nudged at the human half to press her lips to his skin, to satiate the touch-hunger that suddenly had her at breaking point.

Drew extended his fisted hand a little farther. “Come on, Ms. Grumpy, take it.” A teasing smile that made her want to kiss it right off his lips . . . before she tumbled him to the ground and rubbed her body along the warm, muscled strength of his.

Swallowing the insane urge, she turned on her side and held out a hand. He placed a small, light object on her palm. “For your collection.”

She jerked into a sitting position when she saw what it was, crossing her bare legs under her as she brought the small piece of flat rock to her eye. The fossil embedded within it was delicate—a tiny, beautifully preserved leaf. Heart thudding, she brought it even closer.

When she turned to look at Drew’s face as he lay on his back, arms crossed under his head, she saw a smug smile. He looked so pleased with himself that she couldn’t help it—her own lips curved. “How did you know I collect fossils?”

“I see all and know all.”

Scrunching up her nose at him, she cupped the precious fossil in her palm and bent to kiss him on the lips. It was meant to be a thank-you kiss, a little bit of affection between packmates who were close, nothing more. But when he froze under her, when her body turned into one big flame, she knew she’d made a mistake. A mistake that might burn them both to ash.

Wrenching back from the searing contact, she looked down at him, her chest heaving. He watched her with those clear blue eyes that gave away nothing—but his body told its own story. And she could no more stop herself from looking than she could stop the racing beat of her own heart. The flat plane of his abdomen was taut, the golden silk of his skin broken up only by the thin line of dark hair that disappeared into the waistband of his boxers. The black silk strained against the proud ridge of his erection.

So strong and beautiful and male—every part of her body warmed with pleasure at having him near. She wanted to reach over, stroke the hard demand of his cock, cup him with her palm, make him lose the control that had his tendons standing out in stark relief against his sk—

She should’ve said something but couldn’t make her throat unlock, her mouth open. Then Drew shot her a sharp, sheepish grin. “Hey, I can’t help it if I’m male. Stupid biology.” Turning over, he pillowed his head on one arm and went to sleep.

She blinked, not sure what had just happened. But five minutes later and his breathing was easy, even. Putting the precious fossil in the side pocket of her pack—after wrapping it in the soft fabric of an old tee—she finally lay back down and pulled the top flap of her sleeping bag over her uncomfortable body. Her nipples rubbed against the fabric of her T-shirt, taut and aching. Her panties suddenly felt far too constricting, and her wolf—she was pissed at being denied.

Not Drew,
she told her wolf again.
I couldn’t bear to hurt him.
And she would. Because a relationship between a dominant female and a lower-ranking dominant male was never going to end in anything but disaster.

 

 

Andrew released his
fisted hand what felt like hours later, when he sensed Indigo drop off into real sleep at long last. Turning over carefully onto his back, conscious she’d wake to the slightest awareness of a threat, he allowed himself to run his gaze over the line of her body as she lay with her back to him. She’d kicked off the top of her sleeping bag and the long lines of her legs were bare below the white of her T-shirt, her skin smooth and oh-so-touchable.

Desire spiked again, but intertwined with it was an almost overwhelming tenderness. He wanted to curve his body around hers, wrap his arm over her waist, and tug her close. Just hold her. She might’ve let him earlier, but after that kiss . . . His gut went tight, his wolf pawing at the ground for another taste of her.

She’d wanted him. He’d seen the flare of shocked need in her eyes, glimpsed the hunger of the wolf. But as he’d already learned, when it came to Indigo, hunger alone would never be enough. A less stubborn man might’ve given up, but Andrew was playing for keeps.

She shivered a little.

Moving at once to pull across the top flap of her sleeping bag, he froze, close enough to feel the warmth of her body. What would she do if he snuggled into her? She might let it go, thinking he was doing it in his sleep—or she might kick his ass. The wickedness in him pricked its ears, game to take the risk.

Relaxing his body as much as possible, he spooned himself around her, stroking his arm over her waist. She woke the instant he touched her—but she didn’t shove him away. Nuzzling his face into her hair, he let his eyes close. It was no longer pretense, not with her warm and luscious against him. Sleep began to whisper in his ear, and he decided to let it sweep him into dreams where Indigo didn’t just let him hold her, but so much more.

 

 

He had to
be asleep, Indigo thought, lying quiescent in the heat of Drew’s embrace. There was no way he’d have done this if he’d been awake—not after the response she’d accidentally incited in both of them. Of course, he was also half demon, so he could be tormenting her to get some of his own back.

Still, when his fingers laced with her own, she relaxed. He was blazingly hot against the mountain chill, Pack she trusted to the deepest core of her soul. Settling herself more comfortably against him, she drifted off to sleep, having no awareness that she’d be jackknifing to dangerous wakefulness less than an hour later.

Miles away,
on the outskirts of a sleeping San Francisco, Judd took a seat beside Father Xavier Perez on the back steps of Xavier’s church.

“I’m sorry, Xavier,” he said, knowing the priest would prefer the truth at once. “Gloria is gone, murdered.” He’d gotten the confirmation without having to tap his contacts. Brenna had hacked through a records database, found the death certificate. It had listed “sudden cardiac failure” as the cause of death, but her spotless apartment had told a different story.

Xavier let out a long, slow breath before dipping his head and murmuring a quiet, heartfelt prayer. Judd waited in silence until the other man raised his head. “She dared to reach for something beyond what was permitted,” Xavier said. “And they killed her for it.”

“Perhaps.” He told Xavier something Drew had shared with him, having heard it from the Rat alpha. “There are rumors of other dead Psy in the city. Do you know anything about that?”

Xavier shook his head. “Our mutual friend may know more.”

“Yes.” So would another man. A man, Judd thought, that his outwardly careless younger brother-in-law called if not friend, then at least a friendly acquaintance. He’d ask Drew to follow up on the issue with that contact once he returned from the mountains.

Now, he listened to the insects going about their business in the back garden and waited.

The stir in the darkness came not long afterward.

Judd focused. “You’re late tonight.”

The Ghost leaned against an old oak tree, his face swathed in shadow as always. “I was delayed by an unexpected guest.”

“Dead Psy in the city,” Judd said, asking the most important question, “do you know anything about it?”

“No,” the Ghost murmured. “I’ve been busy with other matters. What has occurred?”

Judd had an inkling about the nature of the Ghost’s “other matters”—and if he was right, then the most dangerous rebel in the Net was about to become even more lethal. “I’ve got nothing but rumors at present.”

“If I discover anything, I’ll share it with you.” The Ghost moved deeper into the shadows as the clouds parted to expose the moon’s pearly light. “But San Francisco doesn’t hold much interest for me at present.”

Judd heard something in that statement, something that made his instincts snap to wakefulness. “What are you planning?”

“The three of us came together because we believe the Council is destroying the Psy race and taking the rest of the world along,” the Ghost said. “The Councilors now have their knives out for each other. Any resulting war will devastate the Net, kill millions—Psy, human, and changeling.”

Judd agreed . . . and he also understood. “You’re planning to kill them all.”

“If necessary,” the Ghost said. “There can be no war if there is no Council.”

And, Judd thought, it would leave the Net entirely in the Ghost’s grasp.

Indigo was at full alert when her eyes snapped open. She felt Drew come to life at almost the same instant. Glancing at him, she saw his eyes had gone night-glow, the wolf at the forefront.

“Psy,” he mouthed more than said.

She gave a decisive nod. Nothing else would account for that scent. It was as distinctive as blood on snow, and it cut against changeling senses with the jagged brutality of twisted metal. Not all Psy carried that metallic taint, and the current theory was that it clung only to those who had given in irrevocably to Silence . . . lost their soul to the emotionless chill of the PsyNet. Whatever the truth, there was no reason for it to be here, deep in the heart of SnowDancer territory.

Glancing at the kids—all asleep—Indigo made a snap decision. “Go.”

Drew shifted and flowed away from the campsite as she walked to Harley’s tent and reached in to squeeze his shoulder.

The boy woke at once. Putting a finger to her lips, Indigo bent down. “I need you to keep watch. Sound the alarm if you sense an intruder.”

To his credit, the boy extricated himself from his tent without waking his tentmate, his eyes already watchful. “I’ll use the wolf’s call.”

Confident he was up to the task, she shifted without bothering to strip off her T-shirt and streaked off after Drew. The metallic scent was strong, fresh, and not difficult to track, even if Drew hadn’t gone ahead. Reaching the end of the trail, she found herself in a small moonlit glade bearing the faintest traces of boot prints.

Putting her nose to the earth, she attempted to find the intruders’ exit route and came up blank.
Teleportation.
Which most likely meant the Council—or a Councilor, at least—was involved in this somewhere. Teleport-capable telekinetics were a scarce resource, and they were almost always pulled into the Council ranks, according to Judd. Frustrated, she looked up as Drew appeared from the other side of the glade, having apparently circled the area.

Coming over until their muzzles almost touched, he shook his head.

She shifted. They needed to talk and better it be here than back at the campsite. It was no use scaring the kids when there was nothing to be done at this moment. “No hint of a trail?” She fisted her hand in his fur as she asked for confirmation of his nonverbal report, his coat incredibly soft beneath the protective roughness of the guard hairs.

Another shake of his head before he tugged away and shifted to crouch across from her, a sleekly muscled man with lake blue eyes that held the slightest night-glow edge—the wolf looking out from behind the human skin. “Tk’s.” His voice was low, deep, wolf.

“That’s what I thought.” Attempting to ignore the way that rough tone raised every tiny hair on her body, she spread her fingers on the stubby grass. “Why here?”

“Isolated—or it should’ve been.” Drew angled his head in a way that had nothing to do with the human half of him.

“Maybe they were using it as a meeting place, realized we were up here, and poofed.”

There was some merit to that, Indigo thought, her own wolf prowling inside her mind, its anger cold and rational. SnowDancer territory was unwelcoming to intruders, but by the same token, it was also so vast that if someone wanted to have a meeting away from watchful eyes, and could access the area without alerting the sentries, it was the perfect location. “We need to log this, get some extra patrols going up here in case they decide to return.”

“We can do that back at camp.” Drew shifted with those words, and for a moment she sat still and admired the beauty of the large silver wolf looking back at her with curious copper-colored eyes.

Raising a hand, she indulged herself as she wouldn’t dare do while they were in human form, running her fingers through his fur in a long, slow caress. “You sure are a pretty wolf, Drew.”

That got her an affectionate nip on the chin, a nuzzle into her neck. Feeling a smile creep across her face, she let him tumble her to the ground. The Psy were gone and, given the fact that their swift departure indicated they’d caught wind of the camp, unlikely to return tonight. A few more minutes wouldn’t make any difference.

Staying in human form, she wrestled with Drew as he attempted to pin her, slipping out from underneath his paws and circling around to take him from behind. He was too fast for her, sliding out and away to leap on her. Laughing, she wiggled out from under his playful hold before shifting herself.

He pounced again, but she was already tumbling out of the way. Across from her, he crouched with his front feet forward, his back arched, a clear invitation to play. It was too tempting to resist. Jumping at him, she mock-attacked, growing low in her throat. He attacked back . . . but he was really just trying to get his teeth on her tail.

Laughing inwardly, she slipped and he almost got her . . . but she slammed her body against his, pushing him off balance. Then she went for
his
tail. Yipping, he danced out of the way, his eyes brimming with a joy that could come only from the heart of the wolf that lived within.

It was tempting to keep playing, but they couldn’t leave their charges alone all night. Touching muzzles with him, she turned and led the way back to camp, where they pulled Harley off watch, then used Drew’s cell phone to report their findings. Judd happened to be on the midnight-to-six shift at the den, and Indigo could see his gaze sharpen even on the tiny screen of the cell phone. “Did they leave anything behind?” the Psy male asked.