Word and Breath (28 page)

It was a weird, tense moment, and it gave Riana an odd twist in her gut. She knew the two men didn’t like each other. And, irrationally, she kept feeling guilty about the tension between them.

Finally Connor said, “Of course we want to hear it.”

Riana let out a relieved sigh and listened to what Mikel had to say.

***

An hour later, everyone had left to go about their various tasks, all except Mikel and Riana.

“Is everything all right?” she was able to ask him at last. Tava had just left the apartment, and Riana was standing in the kitchen where she’d been putting dishes away.

“Of course.” Mikel took a clean plate from her hand and set it in its place in a high cabinet.

He smiled at her—a sweet smile that made her smile back.

“I mean,” she went on, “After yesterday. Your whole life basically went down the drain…like mine.” Another thing they had in common.

“It’s okay.” Mikel’s face and his tone didn’t seem conflicted—just calm and natural like always. “Really. My life wasn’t all that good anyway.”

She held another plate with both hands, but she wanted to reach out and touch him. She felt strangely nervous at the same time, as if something deep inside her was shuddering. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Mikel gently took the plate out of her hands. “My life was easy. Comfortable. And empty. Honestly, I’ve been bored for years.”

Riana swallowed hard and slanted a questioning look up at his face. “And you aren’t anymore?”

“I’m not. Do you want to know why?” His was voice thick and deep, and he took her by the shoulders to turn her away from the sink so she was facing him. He stepped forward, until he was close enough to be touching her. He’d dropped his hands, though. Like he was intentionally holding himself back.

Riana ducked her head and lowered her eyes. She was suddenly paralyzed with anxiety. Something very important was about to happen. “I’m not sure,” she whispered.

Mikel watched her quietly for a minute. Then said softly, “I can wait.”

Her eyes cut up to his face, and she saw he really meant it. He wouldn’t pressure her to make any sort of declaration or commitment.

Unthinkingly, she lifted a hand to his face. His skin was warm under her fingers and just slightly rough from half a day’s stubble.

Once she’d touched him, she didn’t know what to do, so she just stared up at him. “I’ve never felt like this before,” she admitted.

She never had. Ever since she’d matured enough to understand the nature of sex and love in the Union, she’d believed she never would.

“Me either.” Mikel leaned his face slightly into her palm. His soft huff of laughter was dry, but his eyes were warm, almost hungry, as he took her face in both of his hands.

Riana tensed briefly, preparing for the inner pull from the touch of a Soul-Breather. It didn’t come. The excited sensations she felt were different, but just as strong. Feeling secure in his tender regard, she relaxed, unconsciously letting herself sway toward him.

He leaned down to kiss her. It was soft, sweet, undemanding. And one of his hands slid back to cup the curve of her skull. There wasn’t the surge of energy she’d felt in his earlier kisses because he didn’t open a connection, but she responded to the kiss just as eagerly.

A thrill of emotion overwhelmed her, and she edged back for a few seconds, pulling their lips apart. Her mind spun, and her body shook. She couldn’t remember what she’d been nervous about the moment before.

She closed the space between their lips again and clung to the front of his shirt.

The move must have surprised him. He sucked in a sharp breath and made a small sound at the back of his throat. But he responded immediately, ardently, adjusting his hands to both sides of her face as she clenched her fingers in the fabric of his shirt.

Then something changed. She felt a sudden jolt of new sensation from the touch of his hands on her face—more internal than physical. A connection had opened between his spirit and hers.

It thrilled her, knowing he could taste her spirit as she offered it to him.

Mikel jerked a step back and dropped his hands.

He was gasping. So was she.

“Sorry,” he rasped, blinking and clearly trying to make his mind work.

Riana was deeply flushed and unsteady on her feet. She gripped the edge of the counter for support. “It’s okay. I was into it. Why are you apologizing?”

He took a shuddering breath. “I was trying to show you we have something between us that’s more than my being a Breather.”

“I know we do.” She moved closer and reached up to his face again. “But it’s part of who you are. Why would I want you to suppress it?”

He turned his head to kiss her palm and then took her hand in both of his. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to.

“It was scary at first—especially when I found out..”

“I know. I don’t deserve for you to forgive me so easily.”

“It wasn’t easy. And I’m not sure I would have unless I’d seen so clearly how you feel now. But I know now that most of what we had that first week was real and not part of your plot.”

His lips twitched just slightly. “I never told you that.”

“No. But it was, wasn’t it? I wasn’t just a job to you even then, was I?”

“I tried, but you were never a job.” He kissed her, just his lips pressing gently against hers for a few seconds.

“Can you do it? Now?” She looked down at his strong, warm hands still holding one of hers.

Without speaking, he opened the connection from the contact of their hands. It was just a faint one, but she felt a delicious tug at her spirit.

“What does it feel like?” she asked, wanting to know him even more deeply and also genuinely curious.

He broke the connection with a thick gasp. It took him a minute to answer. “Have you ever met someone’s eyes—maybe just accidently across a room—and you made a connection with them? For just that instant, you know what they’re feeling. You
feel
what they’re feeling. You’ve connected.”

“Yeah,” she said.

“That’s what it’s like. Only deeper.”

“Oh.” She wanted to touch him again, but his whole body had tensed up. “Does it always…does it always affect you like this?”

He smiled and slid a hand around the back of her neck. “Of course not. Not any more than you’re affected by every man you meet.” He pulled her closer and said against her lips. “I only get this way with you.”

Then they were kissing again, and occasionally he’d open a tingling connection. He pressed her up against the kitchen counter, his body hard and warm against hers. One of his hands held her head while the other had slid down to her hip.

Her whole being pulsed with the emotions, the sensations. She pressed herself against him eagerly, trying to get as close as she could.

When he broke the kiss to instead mouth her jaw and throat, she arched her neck with a gasp, feeling the surge of energy again. “What do you feel from me right now?”

He made a low sound in his throat as he straightened up. Both hands had moved to span her ribs, and his black eyes seemed to smolder. “Mostly how much you’re enjoying this. How much you want to be close to me.”

Her cheeks burned even hotter, but it was from pleasure more than embarrassment. “And how are
you
feeling?”

“The same way.”

For some reason, his self-deprecating answer drowned her in a wave of affection. She reached out to hug him, pressing her face into his shirt as he wrapped his arms around her tightly.

It was only then that she remembered where they were, what they were doing, how many lives were in the balance here.

Including Jannie’s.

Guilt and recognition overwhelmed her, painfully slicing through her chest. She shook a few times and choked on a knot in her throat as she realized she’d been enjoying Mikel and their new feelings when Jannie was kidnapped, maybe hurt, maybe even dead.

She didn’t cry, but Mikel must have sensed the change in her anyway. His arms tightened until they were almost bruising. “I know, Riana. We’ll get her home. I promise.”

***

Largan couldn’t figure out whether things were going his way or not.

They’d managed to capture the shooter from the sniper incident, and the ex-soldier had taken cyanide pills before they were even able to interrogate him. On one hand, it was to their advantage not to have the public controversy that would have surrounded the trial and the questions about why Riana Cole had been a target. But the sniper’s convenient death would also breed more suspicion. There were certain segments of society who wouldn’t believe the explanation.

An explanation that, for once, happened to be true.

The sniper incident had been a Zealot group pursuing its own agenda at the cost of the safety of innocent citizens.

The cost could have been even greater than that. They could have lost Riana.

She’d gone underground, almost certainly working with the Front, and that itself was another sort of danger. Largan couldn’t let what Riana knew fall into the hands of insurgents.

The Union was torn in opposite directions—narrow fanatics on one side and troublesome rebels on the other. While Largan didn’t always approve of the Union’s methods and manipulations, he had to admire the miraculous way the Union had walked the line between conflicting edges of society for more than two hundred years.

With all its flaws, the Union was worth hanging onto.

But now everyone was after Riana Cole. She’d ended up at the center of everything.

It was ironic. And kind of annoying. Just over a week ago only Largan had recognized her potential. Funny how everyone else had jumped on the bandwagon so quickly.

The thought made up Largan’s mind. He picked up his phone and dialed a familiar number. He’d wanted to do this for the last twenty-four hours but had been hesitating because he knew making the first move would put him at a strategic disadvantage.

When Mikel picked up, Largan barked out, “What’s this about your involvement in a shootout in the middle of the street yesterday, outnumbered four to one?”

Mikel was momentarily silent. Then said, “What makes you think that fool was me?”

“Because you left a trail of disabled bodies in your wake. And we got pretty detailed descriptions from a number of female witnesses.” Even wet and outgunned, Mikel managed to make an impression on women.

“You must have at least a couple of those disabled bodies to question.”

Mikel was being very careful. Largan made a note of it. “Only one,” he admitted honestly. “The rest had fled the scene by the time the police arrived. Would you tell me why a Program Director of Union Social Services—who now has a shattered leg and won’t stop cursing you for it—was trying to kill you yesterday?”

He’d given some information away in that question, but it was a calculated risk. One he had to take to get anything from Mikel.

Mikel didn’t answer immediately. He was probably considering his options. Then finally, “I was given to understand that the man and his partners resented me for being…me. And they would have gladly killed all of my kind.”

“One of those,” Largan muttered. “We’d figured as much from the language he’s been spouting. He talks a lot but won’t tell us anything helpful.” Shaking his head, he sneered at his empty office. “He acts like we’re all traitors for questioning him. But the Zealots—as irrationally violent as they are—must have had a larger purpose in their attack than a random killing spree against Breathers. Who was the girl?”

Largan held his breath, hoping his suspicions were correct.

“Riana Cole.”

Largan exhaled with a rush of growing excitement.

“I was actually about to call you about that,” Mikel said, his voice as dry and natural as it had ever been. “She trusts me now. What do you want me to do?”

***

When he hung up the phone with Mikel, Largan decided things were going his way after all. Tomorrow he’d have Riana, and all these other complications would fade into insignificance.

Briefly, he was almost sorry for the poor girl—totally taken in by Mikel’s wiles. He didn’t dwell on it, though. He had too much else to do, and some things were more important than pity.

He left his office and headed toward the back hallway, grumbling under his breath when he saw there was new construction work being done on one of the bathrooms. Then he descended to the basement level by the restricted elevator, the one that was reserved for Union leadership and that was never monitored by security cameras.

When he exited, he saw a couple of assistants scavenging through shelves for office supplies. Largan greeted them politely and made his way past the supply shelves and toward the larger crates stored in the back.

He waited until the female voices had disappeared, and then he triggered a hidden door by turning a light sconce in a particular way. When the door became visible, he entered a security code into the key pad beside it.