Storm: (Blood Legion MC) (Bad Boys of X-Ops Book 3) (20 page)

When she looked at me, so close to her, tears shone in her eyes.

“Is this okay?” I stilled, sheathed completely in her depths.

“Say it again. Please, Storm.” She drew my hand to her lips, and I powered in and out of her in long, languid strokes.

“Love you, Blaize.
Fuck
, I love you,
cher
.”

“Oh, God, Storm!” Her hot moan slid against my mouth.

She thrust up to me, taking me completely, curling her legs around my slow-pumping hips.

Her head tossed back, and she moaned in a trailing heated sound. “I love you too.”

I shut my eyes. Dropped my head. Relinquished her hands to fold my body completely around hers. To protect. To love. To give her my strength where hers had been broken.

The silence of our lovemaking was marked by the slide of skin against skin. The groan I expelled when she cupped my ass in her hands to pull me straight into her. The whimper hitched in her throat as she came apart beneath me, the sensual flow and ebb of her body waving around me.

The faster thrusts. The smack of my hard body into her hot depths. The wetness sucking me to the very edge of control.

The last pulse as I crushed Blaize to me. Held her tightly. Shouted her name.
Hushed
her name. Kissed her temple and her cheek and her lips, and lower, the place where her heart fluttered as if it had grown wings.

A shuddering groan wracked my body, and everything else simply drifted away. The MC. The mission. The threats. The danger. The very real possibility we were on the verge of getting made by Venom.

Edging to my side, I didn’t disengage from Blaize. Couldn’t, wouldn’t, didn’t want to leave the loving sanctuary of her body.

She clung to me, sighed against me. She smiled at me before kissing my chest and my neck and my jaw.

I cupped her whole head in my hand, looking at the long thick fingers threading through the feathery dark red-gold strands.

“Like a
mamou
plant.” I sifted my strong fingers through the tendrils at her temples.

“What?” She lifted drowsy eyes to mine.

“There’s a plant that grows here. Flowers like a long red flute. The coral bean.” I pressed my lips against the top of her hair, breathing deeply of her scent. “Same color.”

“You do seem to like red.” She rubbed her cheek against my chest.

“And you seem to like black.” A low laugh thundered from me, turning into a yelp when she nipped at the shadowy hair, pulling it between her teeth.

“I like you.”

“You love me.” I traced the bridge of her nose with one finger.

“I love you.” She sighed, a deeply satisfied sound.

But the quiet moment could only last so long. With the sounds from the bar downstairs filtering up to us. With danger closing in around us, our lives at stake.

I reached out to turn off the light beside the bed.

“What now?” Blaize lay across me, her whisper gliding over my lips.

“I talk to Slade to see if he’s in our corner before the big gig tomorrow night.”

“I’m coming with you,” she stated.

“Yeah. Not leaving you behind.” Kissing her, I rolled her beneath me. “Not leaving you. Ever.”

Les Bon Temps Turned Bad

THE NEXT DAY, TRYING to pretend shit was totally copacetic as usual was damn difficult after Venom had basically ordered Blaize to be raped, questioned my loyalty in front of the entire Legion, and loose-lipped my secret about Angel being my half brother.

In the morning, I went for pastries like any other day. But Angel didn’t answer my
pound-pound
knock on his bedroom door even though I knew he was in there. That hurt like a bitch. And Blaize? I hadn’t left her curled asleep in the bed but with her gun snugged in her hand, wide awake and on guard.

We’d gotten little rest during the night. I tried to tell Blaize I’d take watch, but she wouldn’t have it. ’Course not. She was still the boss lady in so many ways.

She’d insisted on formulating a plan for the coming night’s drug drop/gun trade with
Los Reyes de Guerra
and the terrorists. The MC being our main objective, our focus would be on bringing Venom, Kouto, and Burn down as soon as the exchange took place, with Blood Legion caught bloody red-handed. The cartel and the hajis? That was for the next phase, provided we were lucky enough to live that long. Explosives would be involved. Grenades. And a fuckton of firepower, with Blaize creating the diversion and me taking the dudes into custody, preferably without killing them.

“It could work. If I get Slade on board,” I’d said.

“We.”

“What?”

“If
we
get Slade on board.”

I’d agreed, before going at her. Throwing everything I felt, worried about, wanted, into Blaize. She was just as passionate. Powerful. Pulling me into her. Raking her hands down my back. Begging, screaming for more. And harder. And faster, longer. The feels between us changing raw fucking into hardcore lovemaking.

The one bright spark in this whole FUBAR scenario was . . .
love.

I would’ve whistled between my teeth, but . . . leaving Blaize alone . . . that didn’t set right with me.

I ambled away from the compound, making like it was any other day, knowing my gut-full of nerves was so wrecked it’d be near impossible to munch my way through the usual bag of beignets.

I hit the bakery, got my normal order. Drank my coffee. Crumpled the paper bag in my hands. I aimlessly wandered deeper into New Orleans, remembering all the best moments I’d spent with Blaize. The time she’d threatened to put a bullet in me, so fired up and angry I totally believed she’d do it. The moment she kissed me, and I drank in her taste and liquid heat. Last night, when she said she loved me. Up above the September sun shone in the bright blue sky, a warm reminder of Blaize’s eyes.

I texted her periodically. Nothing mission involved. Just messages from a man to his lady love.

She replied in kind.

I stayed away from Thunder Road longer than usual, trying to prove no fears, no worries, no threat to Venom.

And that was my biggest mistake.

Half a day later, I returned to home base, strolling down the block where Thunder Road Bar was located. My steps faltered for a second or two. My feelers went on immediate high alert. Something was seriously off. Totally wrong.

First clue?

The block was emptied of every single motorcycle that usually hugged the curbside in chrome and tailpipes.

Second clue?

The door of the bar stood wide open, and Solomon’s chair outside was empty.

I barged inside, dropping the paper bag at my feet. “BLAIZE!”

My shout echoed.

Thunder Road was empty. Deserted.

I turned in a wide circle, searching for any sign of life.

No.

More than deserted.

They’d evac’d Legion headquarters right down to the bare bones.

I leaped up the stairs, my Sig held in a steady hand in front of me.

Creaking open each door once I hit the landing, I was blasted by the simple fact I’d been majorly motherfucking played.

By the time I came to my room, I could barely breath through a tense-tight throat.

Busting through the door, I hauled up short.

I scanned the area, inventorying every detail:

The mattress tossed halfway across the room.

The balcony doors pulled wide open.

Blaize’s guns and blades—scattered in one corner.

Clothes strewn around.

A new bullet hole plugged into the wall.

A bloodstain spattered on the floor, crimson drops.

I threw my head back, a shout howling out of me.

In three strides I was on the landing. I jumped over the balustrade, landing in a jarring crouch, breathing heavily.

Blaize is gone.

But someone lurked. Their presence prickled like needles skittering along my neck.

Spinning around, I almost shot a hole through Solomon.

“Where are they?”

“Don’ know. But they took your woman.”

My eyes crushed closed. I breathed through flaring nostrils.

“Was she alive?” I asked, my lungs barely filling with oxygen.

“She hiss and fight and kick.” Sol shook his head, approaching me. “Venom smacked her.”

I tightened my grip on the gun but lowered it to my side.

“She din’t go easy, but she’s alive. I waited for you, Nash. She’s a good woman.”

“I have to go.” I quickly catalogued my resources—the Sig Sauer in my hand, the KA-BAR in my boot. I’d need a hell of a lot more than those two weapons to rain the pain on Venom and the rest of Legion. “And you need to get out of here.”

“
Bon Dieu te benisse
—”

****

Sweat broke out on my skin, trickled down the center of my back. I’d grabbed my sawed-off from the bedroom, scanned the area one last time for any missing clues then stomped outside.

Venom had to have known about Blaize and me for a while to mobilize the entire Legion lickety-fucking-split.

Which meant he had a plan whereas I had fucking nada.

Not anymore. Not with Blaize MIA. Abducted. Possibly dead.

That line of thinking was gonna paralyze me.

No chance to hook up with Slade, if he was coloring inside the shadow ops lines.

I straddled my night train, roaring it to life. Taking the streets at Mach speed, I knuckled down.

I’d told Blaize I wasn’t gonna leave her. Wouldn’t lose her.

With a snarl on my face, I spun rubber on pavement when I screeched to an ear-shattering stop in front of our safe house. Throwing off my helmet, I pounded up the steps. Unlocked the door, barged through the rooms shouting Blaize’s name.

A futile waste of energy.

I knew she hadn’t been back without me.

But some fucker sure had.

The place had been tossed. Furniture turned over. Closets emptied. Debris everywhere.

I had one last safety net. The guys. Walker. Justice.
Bane.

Doubted they could get to New Orleans in time to make a difference, but I needed to sound off. Needed a goddamn idea about how to get Blaize back. Safe. Alive.

Intact.

I hoped to hell Blaize’s and my hidden stash hadn’t been compromised. The rest of the wreckage meant nothing to me. But I needed weapons. I needed the cell phones.

I needed outside contact.

Racing upstairs, I skidded on my heels when I hit the landing.

Angel rolled around a corner down the hallway.

My brother.

The man who thought I’d betrayed him and his MC.

He held out his palm, a burner phone balanced right in the center. “Don’t worry. I didn’t make any long distance calls.”

Bailout

I TOOK TWO STEPS toward Angel.

He curled the cell in his palm.

“I need that.” I laid my shotgun against the wall.

He was my exact opposite in almost every way—unscarred, young, blond. But he looked at me with the same fucking stormy blue eyes narrowed at me.

“And I needed you.” He drew out his pistol. “I had no one left.
No one.
You knew about my dad being murdered, and you never once fuckin’ thought about sharing the little family secret with me,
couillon
?”

“Jesus Christ,
Ange
. There’s a goddamn good reason I left.” I ranged closer. “There’s a reason I came back.
You.
But this shit is way bigger than us.”

“You want to take down Legion. End my legacy.”

“It’s corrupt and all fucked up, and you know that.” I fisted my hands through my hair. “We’re arming terrorist cells now? The cartel was bad enough. The Blood Legion has been on ATF’s most wanted radar for over four years—”

“When you showed up the first time.” Distrust angled his features in a harsh light.

“That’s right. Except I won’t let you get nailed for this,
T-
frère.
” I snaked my hand forward and grabbed the phone. “Don’t make me pull my weapon on you, Angel.”

He aimed his gun at my forehead.

My breath halted, just for an instant.

I stared him down hard. “I can shoot faster than you. But I won’t shoot to kill.”

“
Bien
.” Angel’s jaw tensed, his finger on the trigger, too. “I will.”

I dodged his bullet, and it whizzed beside my head.

Grappling Angel against the wall, I knocked the gun loose, kicked it aside. But when he retaliated, I lost my grip on the cell phone. It went scuttling underfoot.

He landed a punch on my face before I wrestled him back with my forearm cranked against his throat. I refused to fucking hit him, not unless I had to.

We stood, locked together, staring at one another for several seconds while I watched a fury of emotions skitter across his face: anger, betrayal, fear . . . hurt.

Releasing Angel with great breaths drawn in and out of my lungs, I held my fist an inch away from breaking his jaw in half.

I loosened my fingers. “You’re not man enough yet.”

With a twist of his legs pretzeled behind mine, Angel dropped me to the floor.

He rolled on top of me. “Bullshit.”

In an instant I cranked his arms behind his back, torqued his thighs like fucking noodles in my merciless grip, and flipped him onto his back.

“You are wasting my time.” I thumped the back of his skull to the hard floor.

With a last growl in his direction, I jumped off of him, starting for my hidden stash.

Angel leaped to his feet. “Like you wasted mine.”

Spinning around, I rammed him into the wall with my hand coiled around his neck, squeezing.

He grabbed at my wrists, trying to break free.

My hold ruthless, I pressed him to the wall ’til I thought his shoulders would dent the plaster. Until his eyes bulged. Until his mouth gasped open.

I released him and stepped back. I watched him bend forward at the waist, breathing with a wheeze, his glare finding me through the mop of blond curls on his forehead.

Picking up my shotgun and the burner cell, I cradled the weapon in the crook of my elbow and dialed out to Bane, Walker, and Justice.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

No answer. No hope.

Been made. Mission compromised. Blaize missing . . .

And Angel the very last pain in the backside I needed. With a low curse, I pocketed the cell phone, quickly firing through possible plans to rescue Blaize—flying motherfucking solo when I didn’t even know where she was being held.

“It’s true?” Angel spoke up. “You came back to take the Legion down.”

“Seems so.” I moved through the hall, entered the first bedroom.

He followed, his voice still a rasp from his chest. “Who are you exactly?”

Opening the wardrobe, I hit a concealed lever, and out popped a partitioned box.

Out popped Angel’s eyes, too, when he saw the contents of the secret compartment.

“What they call a shadow operative. I work with a very elite group of people.”
The assholes who aren’t currently answering my SOS.

I meticulously began preparing for Armageddon. This was what I did. I had one job tonight. Get Blaize back. If I got to kill some of the fuckers who’d taken her in the process? Bonus points. Grenades pocketed. Shotgun shells loaded. Knives sheathed. Fast-action pistols holstered. A few compact explosives units tucked away.

Angel ranged closer. “So you. The veep. This whole time with the Blood Legion and the last time was all a lie?”

I glanced back. Angel stood with his hands at his sides. His brow furrowed. He watched me systematically arm myself to the teeth.

“Yeah. All lies. Except for you. You’re my brother.”

“Half brother.” His lips curled in a derisive sneer. “What about Blaize?”

“She’s my boss.”

“That’s rich.”

“And I love her.” I lashed another KA-BAR to my thigh.

“Fuck.” Angel notched his head back. “I wished you’d told me all this before.”

“I’m not very good at confessions.” I dragged on a pair of fingerless black leather gloves.

“No shit?” He warily ambled within striking distance . . . then pushed out his hand. “Brother.”

Bypassing his outstretched palm, I pulled him into a hard hug he immediately returned.

Drawing away, I smacked him on the forehead. “Next time you fight me it won’t be a friendly. You need to brush up on your moves.”

He flipped me off.

The seconds were ticking down.

I had to locate Blaize.

“I’m outta here, kid.”

“For Blaize?”

“Yeah.” I swept past him and headed downstairs.

Angel sprinted after me, hot on my heels. “Then I guess we better go get her back.”

“We?”

“Family, right?” He gripped my arm. “I can find her.”

“You know where she is?” My heart started beating to a faster rhythm.

“Venom took her to the drop. Insurance, he said.”

And just like that, my heart dropped again.

“You better grab some hardware,
brah
.” I aimed Angel back toward the weapons cache, trying the burner cell one more time. “Because we’re on our own.”