Zero to Love (11 page)

On her nape, the bumps of a thin metal chain rolled under his fingers. Warm from her skin.

Groaning, he pulled on the chain, and the front rose, supporting a pendant. He froze.

No wonder Keefe and I couldn’t hear her.

Another thought catcher. He studied the numbers the item possessed. Tiny metal rings overlapped on a disk of pure gold, so tightly interwoven that not a bit of the gold showed through. Who had created it? He’d never seen one so tiny. In fact he’d only ever set eyes on one other thought catcher besides the one in her room before now, and that was years ago.

Near the place where he’d grown up, one of his race had a shop filled with secondhand items that Mindchangers regularly bought up because of their low numbers. While not all could detect the numbers or manipulate them as Monroe did, every one of his kind craved the calm of materials with low numbers.

Even her father?

Why was her house filled with wood and pure cotton? Even the wooden tables weren’t put together with screws and nails, but with joined miters.

Monroe let the pendant drop between her breasts once more.

“What is it? It looks so much like the lamp in my room, I thought my mother might have made it too.”

“Where did you get it?” He studied her closely.

“One of those things I’ve had forever.”

In other words she’d never been told or couldn’t remember. That memory might have been stolen by the Free Wills.

“I need to get you out of here, but we missed the stop nearest my apartment.”

She fixed her gaze on his mouth. The tip of her pink tongue swept her lower lip. Twisting his head away from her, he groaned. “Magda.”

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, the heat of her body searing all the way through his leather shirt. What the—

He looked at her hard, detecting a new flush on her face that hadn’t been there before. Hectic red spots rose on her cheeks, looking like two palm slaps on the white flesh.

Pressing the backs of his fingers to her hairline, he sucked in a breath. Her head was blazing hot. Dammit, she was ill, and he didn’t have the first clue how to care for her. Human sickness didn’t touch supernaturals.

Elise might have been able to help her, but he’d sent her away. Besides, after finding her tongue down Magda’s throat, he wasn’t about to throw them together. A growl formed, but he bit it back.

“You’re sick.”

Her brow crumpled as if she was considering her health for the first time. Didn’t she feel the fever that obviously consumed her? She must be delirious.

“I’m so thirsty.” Her voice lacked its usual life.

Throwing a look around the train car, he spotted the couple in the back. They were scrunched down in their seats, talking quietly. His enhanced hearing picked up that they were talking about getting drunk later with friends.

He was on his feet in a blink, Magda deposited in the seat. His boots thumped on the rubberized floor as he made his way back to the couple. He clamped a hand on the seat in front of them to steady himself as the train careened around another bend.

They looked at his hand; then both sets of eyes ticked up to his face. They cringed.

“Do you have anything to drink? Bottled water?”

They didn’t respond. Monroe’s patience fled. “Do you have something to drink?” he demanded, voice rising.

“Uhh…” The woman rustled around in a large handbag and came out with an unopened bottle of soda. She held it out to Monroe, and he grabbed it.

“Thank you.” He strode back with the bottle, hoping it would help the woman he loved.

He what? Fuck no. He wasn’t that deep, was he?

The woman I’m concerned for. Protecting.

But it was more, and he knew it.

That I’m obsessed with? Infatuated with? Yes, both.

He twisted off the cap and offered the bottle to Magda.

She ripped the bottle from his hands, put it to her mouth, and guzzled. The fluid disappeared, and her throat barely worked. Was she even swallowing?

After she drained the soda, she caught a stray drop on her lip and pressed it into her mouth. She licked her thumb clean and stared back at Monroe. His cock strained against his pants until he thought he’d lose his mind.

The color in her cheeks rose. “I need more.”

He reeled. “We’ve gotta get off.” Throwing out his senses, he tried to detect their position in the underground. If he could hear the subway driver, he could pluck the information from him, but only the scream of the train on the rails sounded.

Another jagged left turn. Then another left.
We must be nearing the Thirteenth Street station.

He wrapped his fingers around Magda’s upper arm. “Come on, baby.”

She stood, and he caught her around her waist, guiding her toward the doors. In another few seconds he’d be able to get her aboveground where he could see into her mind and uncover what was going on.

Heat emanated from her skin. A bead of perspiration broke out on her nape. With a growl, he lifted her hair and flattened his tongue against the salty drop. Shuddering, she spun into his arms, face tipped upward.

He couldn’t resist. He claimed her mouth. Bruising sweeps weren’t enough. He needed more, wanted to bury himself inside her tight little body and pound until they both screamed with completion.

The car jolted to a stop, and he barely kept them on their feet, he was so distracted. The doors slid open, and he pulled her onto the concrete platform. A wall of stairs loomed before them, but her knees sagged.

Clutching her around the waist, he yanked her into his hold. Her legs, wrapped in pure blue denim, dangled over his arm. It was the first time he realized that the clothes she chose possessed low numbers as well. He’d never seen her wear a polyester blend or other synthetic fabric.

As he mounted the stairs with her, he pulled the thought catcher over her head and pocketed it. Hearing her now was imperative.

Who am I kidding? I need to hear her for my own reasons.

The air changed from stagnant fumes to garbage and—

Free Wills.

Lurking in the shadows, three of them. Not Treason, though. These were his cronies.

Monroe quickly put the thought catcher back over Magda’s head so it hung between her breasts. Then he dug deep into his psyche. Did he have enough reserves to stop them and protect Magda? Dammit, he and Magda were on foot with no chance of escape. His SUV was on the other side of town.

Then again…

A silver economy car was parked five steps away. He rushed for it. A flick of his mind opened the doors. Another, and he started the engine. He ripped open the passenger door and jumped in first, dragging Magda in behind him like a tiger hauling its prey into the top branches of a tree.

Magda cried out. The blackened tendrils of the Free Wills chased them, and Monroe shoved back with a grunt of effort.

The Free Wills’ minds surrounded the car, chiseling at Magda’s.

“Close your eyes.”

She did, quaking with fear or maybe chills. She was scorching hot.

Monroe clutched her nape and hauled her facedown on his lap. Then he peeled into traffic. He sideswiped a car as he pulled into the lane and shot off.

His mind spun. Free Wills were chasing them for the second time this week. The city was seriously in trouble. Never had it been so evident that he was racing against the clock to uncover the whys and hows of their intent to take over the city. Alone he could do it faster, but he had no chance of doing it alone now.

Magda’s cheek against his thigh roused his cock. Damn, he was a man after all, but now wasn’t the time.

He threaded his fingers into her bright hair. “It’s okay, baby. I’m just getting us out of here.”

“I need a drink.” Her throat sounded desiccated. Panic was rising in her, and he gobbled it out of the air. Energy flowed, renewed in his system. Was it his imagination, or did the food she provided give him more of a boost?

He stroked her ear. “As soon as I’m sure we lost those bastards, I’ll get you a drink.”

“Not a bottle. A gallon. And I need juice.”

He stared at the crowded street, mind whirling. “Okay, juice, then. What kind?”

“Peach nectar. Apple. Grape. I don’t care. All of it.”

He checked the rearview mirror. If those Free Wills had really been set on stealing Magda at that moment, they would be following, but they weren’t. What had been their purpose in showing up at the subway stop? Maybe it was coincidence, but he knew better.

Treason didn’t operate that way. He plotted his moves right down to the length of someone’s stride. He’d known that Monroe went into the subway, and that Magda was probably with him.

Shit. They expected me to be too weak to protect her
. Good thing he’d surprised them.

“What happened to Elise?” Magda asked.

He removed his hand from her hair and rubbed a thumb over her lips. A quiet coo left her, and his cock jerked in his pants.

“Hell.” He looked for the next convenience store. He zoomed past city blocks. A quick-mart sign loomed ahead. Going too fast, he squealed into the parking lot. She bounced on his thigh as he slammed on the brakes.

For a moment he stared at the facade of the building. About five cars were parked around it, and several people were pumping gas.

“Sweetheart, I’m going to run in and get your drinks. I’ll lock you in. Stay down, head on the seat. Don’t raise your eyes.”

She nodded and rested her face on the cloth seat. He climbed out and locked the doors with his mind. One last glance at the interior of the car afforded him a view of the back of Magda’s head.

He darted into the store and stomped through the short aisles until he located juice. Bright-colored plastic bottles stood in rows on the shelves. He filled his arms with them. He had no idea why she needed so much to drink; he only wanted to provide it.

Provide for her.

As he passed the counter he tossed a couple of bills at the cashier, who averted her eyes and muttered, “Th-thank you.”

Reaching the glass door, he glanced at the car.

The roar ripped from him before he thought to check it. He ran out, the juice still in his arms. He dumped it on the hood of the car and reached the stranger at the car door in one short stride.

A middle-aged blonde woman was crouched with her face plastered against the window. In the driver’s seat, Magda was staring into the woman’s eyes.

He shoved the blonde, and she stumbled back a few feet. Confusion wrinkled her features. He caught her gaze and probed her mind.

She’d walked past the car and been compelled to look inside. At that moment Magda had sat up, and their gazes had locked.

Like feeding
. But Magda wasn’t feeding. Both women were human.

He licked at the memory in the blonde’s mind, scooping it out and devouring it. In its place, he pushed a new thought into her.
Must buy milk at the store.

She shook her head and walked past him into the convenience store.

Magda opened the door and started to get out.

“Get back in.”

“I need a drink!”

“I’ll get it. Stay there.”

She scrambled across the console into the passenger seat. He grabbed the juice and got in too. Before he was settled, she grabbed a bottle, opened it, and drank.

He backed away, throwing out his senses for Free Wills or more strange women.

“What was that?” he asked.

She took a big gulp, then gasped for air. “What?”

Didn’t she remember? He looked into her and saw that she did. Though she was just as confused as he was.

Pressing his lips tightly together, he shook his head. He needed help. Something alarming was taking place in Magda. Though he couldn’t detect just what it was, it had a flavor he didn’t like.

No, that wasn’t true. He was addicted to it.

Magda was changing—he couldn’t control it, stop it, or explain it. Leaving her alone was out of the question. Even if he hadn’t sworn to himself to protect her, he couldn’t bear the thought of walking away.

He needed to check in with Van Es about what he’d learned of the Free Wills anyway. Maybe he would have answers about Magda.

Changing lanes, he shot off to the other end of the city.

Magda dropped an empty bottle to the floor and took up another.

Alarm bells sounded within him. “Whoa, slow down. You can’t be that thirsty.”

“While I was looking at that woman, I forgot about being thirsty. But now it’s all I can think about.”

He placed a hand over hers. Her skin was cool. Normal. He reached up to cup her face. “Have you ever had this illness before?”

“I’m not sick.” She brought the bottle of apple juice to her lips and took a long pull. Again, was she swallowing or just letting it fall down her throat? The knot of fear in his chest tightened, and he sped up.

“First thing we’re going to do is talk to a Mindchanger elder about you.”

She lowered the juice and stared at him with wide eyes. Blue and deep as a bottomless sea. A sharp desire to take her gripped him. Maybe they could just spend an hour at his apartment.

She smoothed her tongue over her lips. Then, settling the juice between her thighs, she ran a palm over his chest. His cock stiffened, instantly ready for her touch. She continued to stroke a path down to his abs.

His balls clenched, and the pain of withholding racked him.

“I just…”

“Yes, Monroe. I need you.”

What she didn’t say was
as much as I needed the juice
, but he heard it loud and clear, bells ringing in her mind that also gonged in his system. This was a primitive desire—a pain in her that must be eased.

He slammed on the brakes, and the stolen vehicle spun a wild circle. Horns blared, and cars swerved around him. As he headed back toward his apartment, Magda threw her head back and laughed—a sound of promise and joy.

Chapter Eight

She was on fire. Monroe brushed his fingers over her skin again and again, drawing her desire to the surface. Her nipples ached for his pinch even as her pussy squeezed.

“Mmm. I have to taste this.” His green eyes flashed as he dived between her legs. Pushing her knees up and back, he opened her to him fully.