The Enemy Within (Daughters of the People Series Book 3) (15 page)

He rubbed a
finger across his brow. Was he really that much of a bastard?
No
. He’d
been good to her, given her his best, except for the night before, and she’d
seemed to like that. Surely she didn’t think he would hurt her. Maybe she just
wanted privacy.

“We can do this
somewhere else,” he said.

Her laugh was as
shaky as her hands. “I can’t wait that long.”

He flinched.

“Lock the door,”
she said, and her words were a sucker punch to his gut.

It was going to
be bad.

He pinched the
bridge of his nose, trying to breath through the agony building in his chest. One
night. Sweet Goddess, he’d wanted more than one night.

She finished
shutting the blinds and turned, facing him. Her mouth was set in a thin line
and her chest rose and fell so rapidly, he thought she might be on the verge of
hyperventilating.

“Did you lock
the door?” she said.

“Yeah. Why don’t
we…”

Before he could
finish, she crossed the room, fisted her hands in his shirt, and yanked him
into a scorching kiss. He stumbled while his mind reeled and his body shouted,
Hell,
yeah
. Her tongue pushed against his lips, so he opened for her, and groaned
when she made sweet little forays into his mouth, teasing the corners of his
lips and his tongue and shooting fire straight down to his groin.

She pushed him
back and pulled her top off, then her bra. “Shirt off,” she said, and her voice
wasn’t shaky anymore, it was hot and heavy and needy.

He pulled his
shirt off and dropped it onto the chair, and helped her strip down until she
stood nude under the harsh, fluorescent lighting. He reached for the waistband
of his khakis, and she pushed his hands away and took his mouth in a greedy
kiss. Her hands worked the fastening of his pants, dipping under his clothes in
heated strokes while she edged him backward, and he went, eager to see what
she’d do next, ready to meet her halfway. When the back of his legs hit the couch,
she shoved his pants and briefs down to his ankles and pushed at his chest
until he plopped onto the couch.

She straddled
him and took him into her body in one long, heated stroke, engulfing him until
he wasn’t sure where he stopped and she began.

“So good,” she
gasped, and threw her head back with a low groan when he thrust up into her.
Her hips began a slow, undulating rhythm, pulling him deeper into her wet heat,
and her sex clenched around him with her movements, and his control slipped and
shattered, and he didn’t care because she was there and she was his and he
wanted her so much, wanted whatever she would give him.

He wrapped an
arm around her back and pulled her closer, and sucked her nipple into his
mouth, laving it with his tongue, and put his other hand on her hip to urge her
into a harder, quicker rhythm. He rocked up into her as her hands roamed over
him, clutching his head to her breast, stroking his back and shoulders, digging
into his skin, and he was so thankful she wanted him,
Goddess, yes
, but
all he could think was
love her, love her
and his chest filled with it,
filled with emotion and the beauty of their passion until he fell down, down,
down into Indigo.

Her hips were a
frenzy of movement, sharp thrusts that stoked the heat higher and higher until
he was ready to burst, and her breaths came in pants. She pulled his mouth away
from her breast and claimed it, moaning her pleasure against his lips, and
braced her hands against the back of the couch. Her hips worked against his
body, faster, faster, until she cried out and her body shuddered and her sex
clamped down on his erection in hard throbs that sent him over the edge, and he
thrust into her so that he was fully sheathed and his seed spurted into her in
hot waves that pulsed through him again and again until he was spent.

She collapsed
against him, gasping for breath, and nuzzled her face into his neck. He cradled
her head and smoothed a hand down the sweat soaked skin of her back, and felt
her shaky laugh caress him inside and out.

“Sorry.” Her
breath puffed across his neck and her hands curled into fists against his
chest. “I shouldn’t have done that here.”

“Here was fine.
Great, even. In fact, I vote we do this at least once a day until we’re both
gray headed.” He brushed her hair back, dragged in a shuddering breath around
his rocketing heartbeat. “I thought you were leaving me.”

“What?” She
jerked upright, her eyes wide with shock. “Why would you think that?”

“You were late.”
He shrugged as casually as he could. “Mom acted like she was gonna be
difficult, and I thought you might’ve changed your mind.”

“You talked to
her?”

“This morning
when I picked up some clothes.” He pulled her down, tucked her against his
chest, enjoyed the weight of her body draped over his. “Was she really bad?”

She cupped the
nape of his neck and relaxed. “She was…merciful.”

Merciful?
Shit
.
That did not sound good at all. “What did she say?”

“Forget it,
Bobby, I’m not telling you. She got what she wanted and now we can be together.
That’s the important thing, right?”

Not so much.
What had his mother done to drive Indigo into sex in a semi-public place?
Awesome hot monkey sex that had his dick hardening just thinking about it, but
still. Not very Indigo-like behavior. He’d bet his bottom dollar his mother’s
fun
had stepped over a line or two or, more likely, ignored those lines completely.

Indigo nipped at
his neck with sharp teeth.

A familiar heat
worked its way downward. “What was that for?”

“For doubting
me. I can’t believe you thought I changed my mind.”

“This isn’t
exactly a love match, sweetheart.”

She grew eerily
still against him. “You don’t love me?”

“I do, so much
it hurts.” His hand tightened in her hair. “I know you don’t love me, though.”

“I care about
you, a lot.” She sat up and met his gaze openly. “I know that’s not enough.”

“No, it’s not.”

Her lips turned
up into a shy smile. “I’m working on it.”

“Really?” The
emotion welled up again, threatening to spill out. She was working on it, huh?
Maybe even trying to take him into her heart. He didn’t deserve her, never
would, but he couldn’t refuse her either, couldn’t live without her gentle
understanding and seductive heat. “How hard?”

“Pretty hard.” Her
face lit with humor. “So hard I’m pretty sure everybody knows it now.”

“You weren’t
that loud.”

“Not me, the
couch. It squeaks.”

He ran a hand
over her back and didn’t even try to hold back the satisfied smile. “I’ll get
that fixed.”

“Mmm. I doubt
it. I think you liked it.”

“I did,” he
admitted. “And now, I want to take you home so I can feed you and we can do
this all over again.”

Her smile was
sweet and tender and beautiful. “I can handle that.”

They helped each
other dress and straightened up as much as they could. He laughed with her and
played and felt relief sag through him every time her shy gaze met his, but his
mind kept drifting back to what she’d said.
Merciful
. As soon as he
could, he was going to figure out exactly what had happened at that meeting,
even if it meant standing against his mother, one of the People’s most formidable
warriors.

* * *

That night,
Indigo woke him, screaming for her mother, her body jerking in hard spasms. He
shook her, trying to wake her, and panicked when she scrambled away from him,
slipping out of his reach and over the edge of the bed before he could catch
her. Her head clipped the edge of the nightstand as she fell in a graceless
heap onto the floor. He leaped around the bed and heaved a sigh of relief when
she groaned and pushed herself up.

Sweet Goddess,
what had she been dreaming about?

He helped her
into bed, flipped on the light, tended the shallow wound. A slow, burning dread
hit him when he asked her what had made her scream and her eyes fogged in
confusion.

She slept
peacefully in the nights after that, but he didn’t forget that one nightmare.

Over the next few
days, they began to learn one another, to work around each other’s habits and
shortcomings and develop a deeper bond. Indigo had a hard time waking in the
morning, so Bobby cooked breakfast and then came back to bed and woke her with
sweet kisses and long strokes along her sleep-warmed skin. He coddled her so
much, she retaliated by ramping up their sparring matches and kicked his tail
on a regular basis, a pointed reminder that she was a Daughter and not one to
be trifled with.

In the evenings,
they took slow walks around the neighborhood after supper or cuddled on the
couch with a movie, but their nights always ended with him inside her, taking
her as high as he could before they both shattered and fell.

Every day, she
took a little more of his heart.

Before she’d
claimed him, that would’ve worried him. Now, he held on to the hope that she
really could learn to love him, that he was taking a little bit of her heart in
return.

The first Sunday
after Bobby moved in with Indigo, they went to her mother’s house for the
formal presentation. It was a modern structure made of rock and wood, and
smaller than the older homes located near Tellowee’s center, though still big
enough to accommodate a large family. Indigo watched Bobby assess the two acre
lots with a critical eye, likely noting the layout of the streets and the
distance between homes, and knew exactly when he put it on his mental list of
potential house sites.

Elizabeth met
them at the door of her home, beautifully rounded beneath a loose, white
peasant top and faded jeans, carrying her youngest daughter in the crook of her
arm.

“Indigo.” She
leaned in to brush her lips across Indigo’s cheek, though her coldly appraising
gaze rested on Bobby. “Come in, darling.”

They followed
her inside and took off their coats, shaking off the cold November rain.

Indigo hung
their coats on pegs next to the door. “Where’s Glen? He’ll be here for the
presentation, won’t he?”

“Of course,
though he seems a bit baffled by the custom.” Elizabeth led them into the
living room and sat on a plush couch upholstered in earthy plaids. “He’s
upstairs changing Joey.”

Indigo relaxed
onto a matching chair and settled in for a good conversation while they waited.
Bobby stood behind her with his right hand on her left shoulder, a silent guard
in the manner this tradition demanded.

Moments later, Glen
came down the stairs carrying Joey. He stood slightly taller than his wife and
was whip thin with shoulder-length hair the color of gold, pulled into a
ponytail at the base of his neck. His chambray shirt was untucked over jeans
and his socked feet whispered against the hardwood floor. “Sorry. Joey was a
little fussy.”

“It’s ok, dear.”
Elizabeth took the hand he held out to her and kissed the back of his fingers
before rubbing her cheek over them. “Let me scoot up and we can begin.”

When Elizabeth
was settled, Glen stood beside her and watched with avid eyes.

“Indigo,
daughter of my heart and my body, I give you leave to begin.”

“Maetyrm.”
Indigo slid forward in the chair and bowed slightly. “I have come before you
with a gift to your line, a Son of a reputable family who will bring much honor
to our People.”

“What is this
Son’s name?”

“Robert Lake
Upton, the second of that name.”

“Who is this
Son’s mother?”

“Rebecca, known
as the Blade, a strong and skilled warrior and a Daughter of the line of
Abragni.”

“Who is this
Son’s father?”

“Robert Lake
Upton, the first of that name, who has no kin among the People.”

“Why should I
acknowledge this gift?”

Bobby squeezed
Indigo’s shoulder when she hesitated. “I have claimed him as my mate.”

Elizabeth
nodded. “I would hear this from the Son’s lips.”

Bobby stepped
forward and bowed. “Maetyrm.”

“Robert Lake
Upton, the second of that name, a Son of the People and a child of the Blade.
Have you accepted my daughter as your mate?”

“I have.”

“Why should I
accept this mating?”

“I love her as
no other ever will.”

Elizabeth’s eyes
glittered in her pale face. “Pretty words from a man with such a violent
reputation.”

Indigo hissed in
a breath. Trust her mother to bring up the past, and in a manner designed to
illicit the sharpest response.

“I do what I
must to protect my own,” Bobby said, his voice as hard as her mother’s.

“And should the
day come when she grows weary of your attentions?”

“She may leave
with no penalty or harm, though my heart will go with her.”

Elizabeth
nodded. “A rumor has come to my attention, that you bear the mark of a dove on
your shoulder, and have since your twenty-first birthday. Whose mark is this?”

“It is the mark
of Indigo Dupree.”

“Was this mark
taken with her knowledge?”

“It was not.”

“Have you been
faithful to her since taking her mark?”

Indigo froze.
She hadn’t anticipated that question, hadn’t even discussed it with Bobby. If
he’d taken lovers after taking her
aenkanien
, she wouldn’t hold it
against him, but her mother would. Elizabeth would refuse the claiming, sending
them into a spiral of reprisals against Rebecca and her kin, and possibly
leading to a vengeance war.

Rebecca’s first
act would be to claim Retribution.

Indigo flinched.
Her body disfigured, Bobby lost to her forever. His hand tightened on her
shoulder, comforting her.

“Answer the
question,” Elizabeth snapped.

Indigo heard
Bobby’s inhaled breath. “I have.”

Elizabeth gaped.
Indigo’s head snapped around and she said, “What?” at the same time her mother
did.

“Eh,” Glen said.
“Can I ask a question?”

Elizabeth nodded
faintly. “As the second father of my daughter, I give you leave to ask what you
will.”

“How old are
you?”

“I turned thirty
last month,” Bobby said.

Glen’s eyes grew
round. “You didn’t have sex for nine years? Are you friggin’ kidding me?”

“Ah,” Bobby
said. “I’m not kidding.”

“Man.” Glen
looked down at his wife. “Don’t ask me to do that.”

Elizabeth patted
his arm. “I would never dream of it.”

Indigo caught
his eye and mouthed
I owe you
before turning back to her mother.

Elizabeth
cleared her throat. “Indigo, daughter of my heart and my body, I give you leave
to join your life to this man’s, the Son of Rebecca, known as the Blade, and
Robert Lake Upton, the first of that name, and to bring him into our line with
honor and love.”

Indigo rose and
bowed. “Thank you, Maetyrm.”

“Can we eat
now?” Glen said.

Elizabeth
smiled. “Yes, I think we should.”

* * *

Supper was a
simple affair of roast pork and vegetables. Bobby listened more than he spoke,
caught Indigo’s gaze slipping to his at odd moments. She was wondering if he’d
told the truth about not having sex after taking her
aenkanien
. It was
plain on her face.

His brow
furrowed. If she hadn’t believed him under the duress of the presentation, when
a lie could mean death, how would she ever believe him outside of it?

It’s not that he
hadn’t wanted sex and, he was ashamed to admit, hadn’t attempted it a time or
two. It had never gone beyond a steamy dance and a completely passionless kiss,
not for lack of trying, and he’d finally given up.

Of course, he’d
had plenty of sex before he’d taken her mark, all futile attempts to erase her
from his heart. He’d never tell her, not if he could help it. Her knowing would
only widen the influence of his past on their future, and it might hurt her at
a time when she was so close to trusting him, maybe even a step or two away
from loving him.

The babies
rested in a double cradle to the side of the table, sleeping peacefully until the
meal was nearly eaten. Beth mewed and shifted, threatening to wake her brother.
Bobby placed his napkin on the table beside his plate. “May I?”

Elizabeth’s gaze
rested on his with the heavy weight of a protective mother. “Of course.”

He stood and
moved to the cradle, and gently scooped Beth into his arms, holding her
carefully. It had been a long time since he’d held a newborn, not since
Charlotte’s next youngest had been born. He’d missed the birth of the youngest
while out of town on a business trip and had regretted it ever since. There was
nothing like a baby cuddled up against you, trusting and sweet. He ran a finger
over Beth’s cheek and smiled when she turned her head toward it.

He looked up to
find them all watching him, Glen with the proud look of a new father, Elizabeth
wearing a dispassionate mask. Indigo’s gaze held a longing that took his
breath. She wanted this, wanted to hold a child of her heart and his. He would
give her as many children as she wanted, as often as she wanted them. She would
be a good mother, and he would watch over her and their children with all of
the strength he’d inherited from the Sisters through his mother.

“She looks like
you,” he told her.

Glen folded his
arms across his chest. “Well, there goes your special dispensation.”

Bobby grinned.
“Hey, it’s the truth.”

“She’s probably
wet,” Elizabeth said.

“Oh.” Indigo
pushed her chair back and stood. “Let me. I’ve been dying to get my hands on
her.”

Bobby handed the
baby over and watched Indigo walk from the room cooing to her little sister. Elizabeth
and Glen rose, clearing dishes from the table, and Bobby decided that it was
now or never.

“May I speak
with you alone?” he said to Elizabeth.

“Of course. Glen,
dear, if you’ll get started, I’ll finish up.”

Glen pressed a
kiss to his wife’s cheek. “Fair enough.”

Elizabeth led
Bobby to a library containing two leather sofas placed facing one another over
a coffee table. Windows lined one wall, with book-laden shelves filling the
others. She sat on one end of the far sofa and gestured for him to sit next to
her.

Bobby sat down
and turned to face her, leaving a cushion between them to preserve some
formality. Elizabeth was, in her own way, as formidable as his own mother, if
centuries younger. He knew little about her life other than what he’d gleaned
from Indigo. That put him at a distinct disadvantage when dealing with her,
considering his mother’s notoriety, and his own.

He studied her
while they settled, and marveled at how alike in looks she and Indigo were,
close enough to pass for sisters, with hair as deep as midnight and sapphire
eyes tilted up at the corners in heart-shaped faces. Elizabeth’s features were
sharper, harder, and her eyes pierced where Indigo’s merely observed. He’d
heard Elizabeth was a fighter, a no-nonsense woman who wasn’t afraid to take
charge or get her hands dirty, and while Indigo shared those traits, they were
tempered by her softer nature. She was the dove to her sister India’s hawk, and
their mother was an eagle with sharp beak and claws and eyes fixed on her prey.

“What is it you
wish to discuss?” Elizabeth asked.

“Indigo.” Bobby
hooked an ankle over his knee and held it there with both of his hands. “Has
she ever had nightmares before?”

“Not in a very
long time.” Elizabeth’s brow furrowed. “Why do you ask?”

“She had one a
couple of nights ago. Woke screaming and fell off the bed trying to get away
from me.” He leveled a hard stare at her. “She wouldn’t tell me what it was
about, but I’m guessing you probably know.”

“I might.”
Elizabeth curled her legs up onto the couch and rested a hand on her ankle.
“When the girls were little, they were mischievous children. India led.” She
laughed. “Well, you know what India’s like. Back then, though, Indigo was a
willing participant. The two of them would get into all sorts of trouble
together.”

Bobby tried to
imagine Indigo as a mischievous child and failed. Until the day she’d brought
her suit before his mother, she’d always been tentative, almost shy, a student
of duty and obligation.

He’d been on the
receiving end of that duty often enough to understand how deeply ingrained in
her it was.

“They were born
in England, but I wanted to travel a little. Restless feet.” The smile lifting
her lips held a touch of sadness. “So I took a job for the People investigating
a slave owner here in the States, a man who had ties to the Shadow Enemy,
though he didn’t appear to be a member himself. I brought the girls with me, of
course. There was no harm, or shouldn’t have been, since I was going in as an
independent woman, a widow, and not a member of the household.”

Bobby nodded. It
wasn’t an uncommon scenario.

She sighed and
shifted on the couch. “We were visiting this man’s plantation down near
Charleston and the girls got away from me. I never really pieced together
everything that happened. From what I can tell, they were spying on some of the
slave boys who were bathing in the river. The overseer caught them. He had his
whip with him and used it on Indigo. India slipped out of his grasp and managed
to claw the man hard enough to send him running, but the damage was done.”

A slow burn of
horror seeped into him.
Blessed Mother
. “I hope you killed him.”

“Oh, I did.
Skinned him from stem to stern while his heart beat and fed him his own entrails
until he choked. He got India with his back swings while she was trying to stop
him. Considering some of the scrapes that one got into, the wounds were
relatively minor, but the overseer got in at least a dozen hits to Indigo. The
damage was…” She sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. “Her skin healed and
the scars faded, but she was never the same. No more running after India,
chasing trouble. No more daredevil adventures. Her childhood was essentially
over and she was only ten.”