Blacker than Black (35 page)

“I removed Ardienne from the position she’s held with relative ease since before the disclosure. She’s now the lowest ranking
lyche
in the Orleans territory.”

“And there won’t be any backlash from that?”

He twitches a shoulder. “No doubt there will be. But she’s a guest beneath my roof, and her behavior offended me. I was well within my rights.”

“Why did you drag me into it like that? I could
see
her energy funneling into you.”

“I said I wanted you to witness the punishment. If I hadn’t done that, I doubt you would’ve seen or felt much of anything.”

He doesn’t know we can see those things without assistance? Should Jhez and I not be able to? I manage to swallow my alarm, and let a sigh slip out instead. “I didn’t know you could just . . . reach out like that. I always thought
lyche
had to have physical contact in order to tap.”

“It’s easier if we do. And more pleasant for both parties. Less . . . painful. What I just did felt like swallowing razor blades.”

“What, for you? Or her?”

“Both.” He leans back into the couch and relaxes, eyes slipping closed, hands loose in his lap.

“It seemed so effortless.”

“Far from it.” Leonard exhales slowly. “Will your sister be satisfied?”

“When I explain it to her, yes.” The entire length of him is pressed up against me and I shift slightly. Jhez is going to want to hear this. When I lean forward to stand up, though, his arm encircles my waist and pulls me back into his side.

“You can tell her in a bit. She can wait.” His eyes are still closed.

“I don’t understand.”

He exhales roughly, and it almost sounds like a snort. “Your proximity is soothing after what I just did.”

“Okay.” I relax back into the couch, twisting and shifting for a more comfortable position when he doesn’t remove his arm. Finally, I just curl into his side and rest my head on his shoulder. The scent of dragon’s blood tickles my nose, and I want to bury my face in his shirt and inhale. It takes a bit of effort to resist the urge.

Very tactile, for a
lyche
. Despite the fact that contact makes tapping easier, or perhaps because of it, most johns I’ve had don’t want to be touched. They do the touching, and limit it to whatever is strictly necessary to get what they want.

“You don’t trust me.” His observation is softly spoken but so abrupt and sudden that my entire body tenses. His arm tightens around me, fingers digging into my hip as he rubs his thumb over my skin. When did his hand get under my shirt? Again?

“Thus far the evidence is conflicting.” His shirt muffles my answer and I’m reluctant to speak it, but it’s the truth. The silk is warm against my cheek. “You accused me of deliberately jeopardizing you, of stealing from you, and then threatened to
fin
tap me as punishment for my crimes. I just got a front row seat to how real a threat that was.”

He turns his head, and I feel his breath wash into my hair as he exhales. “It wasn’t your fault that you didn’t know what you are.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and inhale his scent. Did he just apologize? “You want me to trust you?”

His fingers twitch against my hip. “Yes. I would like that.”

I shake my head in confusion, but all that does is rub my face against his silk shirt. “I know nothing of this culture you live in.” In fact, from the moment Muscle dragged me back to him, my survival has been completely dependent on him. His protection, his intervention.

Jhez and I have fended for ourselves for so long. The circle of those we trust is small. It always has been. And after the debacle with the drugs Blue gave me . . . He always knows precisely what he’s pushing, or he doesn’t push it. Oh Gaia, please don’t let that be deliberate. He’s my friend. I love him like a brother. But something in Leonard’s aura tells me he won’t hesitate to put the street dealer’s ass in a sling the next time they cross paths.

“Our culture is rather complex.” His lips brush against my hair as he forms each word. It feels strange. “It will take time for you and Jhez to grow accustomed to it.”

“I don’t know that she wants to be.” Don’t know that I want to be, for that matter.

“Both of you have a place, though. Whoever your father is doesn’t matter. You aren’t human. Someone else will discover that. The risk of it grows higher the longer you walk the streets. Your notoriety is greater than you realize, even now. I want to help.”

“Why?”

“Must I have a reason?” I tense again, and he growls and tightens his arm. “Very well. I’d prefer you didn’t leave, if—”

“When,” I interrupt. I know where he’s going with this.

“Fine. When. I prefer you don’t leave
when
this wears off.” Leonard’s arm turns into a vice. He leans into me, lips brushing the skin against the back of my neck briefly before his teeth sink into my shoulder. Not caring that my shirt is in the way. Oblivious with the single-minded possessiveness of a beast laying claim to its mate. Not bruising me, but firm enough to speak volumes. It takes almost a full minute for him to relax and back away. “I won’t share you. Once was enough, believe me. You’re too delicious.”

Not sure what to say to that. I lift my head to stare at him. The man is a study in contrasts, communicating like a beast and spouting the phrases of a well-educated intellectual, then flopping back to something as tactile and sensory as
how I taste.
At least, I’m relatively certain that’s what the description referenced.

“So you want me as your private beck-and-call delicatessen?” Tacky description, but I think it’s a more than reasonable question given my standard means of income. Best to have a clear understanding of expectations up front.

His gaze holds steady under my scrutiny, but his only response is a twitching shoulder.

“What’s that mean,
Leonard?”

He glances at my mouth for a long, tense moment. Then he leans in and rests his cheek against mine to whisper in my ear. “It means I’ll take whatever you give. I just want you.”

Skin on skin, the proximity is too much. His aura plays over mine, a master violinist plucking the strings of a well-tuned instrument. Lust roars through me in a torrent, as if Leonard flicked a switch.

Which he’s perfectly capable of doing, as I recall. Vaguely. It’s difficult to think with heat pooling in my gut and my nerve endings tingling everywhere his skin touches mine.

“How do I know,” I whisper back, pressing my lips against his ear in return, “that you aren’t just twisting my knobs? You did it once before to prove a point.”

“Why would you think I’m doing that? Because of this?” Leonard’s arm tightens on my waist as he slides a hand up the inside of my thigh, brushing his fingertips over my arousal with a cruel, feather-light touch. “I’m not. We’re just feeding off each other.” He grabs my wrist, guides my hand to his groin. His erection strains against the material of his slacks, twitches beneath the weight of my palm.

My breath is ragged, pulse hammering in my ears. “If this is going to happen every time I sit next to you, it’ll be inconvenient.” I don’t want to, but I slide my hand out from under his. Which drags my palm down the length of his erection. A tremor runs through his body.

“It’s the imbalance.” His voice is rough with lust. Which is probably why his statement makes no sense. I try to pull away and look at him. His resistance is short-lived.

“I have no idea what you mean. But I do know my sister is going to be worried if I don’t go back and tell her this is resolved. She’ll think I did something rash.” His eyes look glazed. I wait, hopeful. After another moment of staring at me, he blinks a few times and sighs in exasperation.

“Very well. Let’s go find Red.” He untangles his arms from me and pushes up off the couch, then stands there looking down at me.

I study his impassive expression. “Will you explain what you meant, after I talk to her?”

“In excruciating detail,
mon noire.
I promise.” His brow furrows deeply, but then his face clears in the next moment. “We will talk, after.”

My black?
What in Gaia’s name does he mean, using that? I get the sense that he intends it to be a pet name, or something. Instead, it manages to be mildly offensive on a variety of different levels. A reminder that I belong to him for the foreseeable future. A reminder of the sire I’d rather not think about, thanks.
Cryptic, possessive fucker
, I think as I follow him out of the room.

The light in the hallway almost blinds me.

Jhez paces the empty office, a feral animal crammed in a too-small cage. I ignore her antics and flop into one of the armchairs flanking the couch. Thankfully, I suspect Leonard took us the long way getting back here. I didn’t exactly relish the prospect of us traipsing in here feeling obviously aroused.

It wouldn’t have gone over well.

“Well? What the hell happened? Did you start a fourth world war while you were gone, Black? I was about to start pulling my hair out, you know.”

“Yes, I see that. The entire office is neat as a museum. Sit
down
before your pacing makes me dizzy, would you?” I have no qualms about barking at her. When she gets this worked up, a calm and even tone just doesn’t have any influence on her.

Jhez glares at me, hands propped on her hips. The door clicks shut. I see the strain in her face as she resists the urge to turn on Garthelle with all pistons firing. With a gusty huff, she relents and perches on the very edge of the couch, arms and ankles crossed, legs stretched out. Tension in every inch and line of her form.

I give her a short-lived smile of encouragement, but she just arches a brow at me in impatience. At which point I give up. “Ardienne. That was the
lyche’s
name. Apparently, in their circles, if you offend a member of one’s household, you’re offering offense against the head of that house. Especially if you’re under their roof. The Monsieur of York claimed us as members of his household before twenty of them, and called her out on her behavior. She didn’t deny it. So he punished her.”

Jhez furrows her brows. “Really. What did he do, smack her on the wrist?”

“He stripped her of her station and power, down to the dregs of her energy.”

Her jaw goes lax and her eyes widen until the whites are visible all the way around her green irises. “You’re shitting me.”

I shake my head for emphasis. “No, I’m not. I watched him do it.”

“How did you manage that?”

How do I explain that to her in a way that will make a lick of sense? I don’t even understand it myself, and it happened to me. “I didn’t, he did. I’ve no idea how to explain it. Suffice it to say I saw her chi funneling into him like a street punk sucking on a siphon hose.”

She barks a laugh. “Oh Gaia, that’s rich.” Her gaze flicks away from me, toward Garthelle. I can almost feel his presence, off in the direction of the door. The sensation is so strong it verges on palpable. “You have my thanks. It certainly wasn’t necessary for you to go to such lengths—”

“Oh but it was, I assure you,” he interjects. “You’re in my employ, the both of you. I doubt that’s slipped your mind. As such, you’re due a measure of respect and consideration from those beneath my roof. And my guests are aware of that.”

“Yeah. I didn’t forget. Unfortunately, my lack of position and rank among the
lyche
is making it difficult to gain headway in this investigation.” She’s still barking, but the tension is draining out of her. I risk a glance in his direction. He’s standing a pace from the door, hands once more in the pockets of his slacks. Faint lines bracket the corners of his mouth.

“That’s been brought to my attention. Black and I might be able to expose more information if we join our efforts.” Jhez’s left eye twitches in response to that tidbit. “There’s some level of risk involved in such a venture, but there’s no danger. Not so long as we remain beneath my roof and within my territory. As I’ve demonstrated.”

“He makes his own decisions, Monsieur. You’ll need to discuss that with him, not me. I want access to those charts you gave us the other day, though. There was some information on them that I’d like to look at again. To put some perspective on what I observed today.”

Garthelle nods. “They’re in the desk there. No doubt you discovered as much when you were poking about and ‘straightening up.’ You may pour over them for as long as you wish, so long as you keep your findings in the strictest of confidences. This stays between the three of us and goes no further.”

“I haven’t forgotten.”

“Very well. Feel free to make use of these rooms. There’s a bedroom and full bath off that side. Dial nine on the desk phone if you need something, and my staff will provide it. I think it best if the two of you stay here with me for a few days while Black and I work at this. Is that acceptable to both of you?”

I clear my throat and interject. “I’ll defer my decision until after you and I have that little chat.” Her mouth half open to agree, my sister frowns at me as she clacks her jaw shut.

He doesn’t look at me. A muscle in his cheek begins twitching rhythmically.

Glancing back and forth between me and Garthelle
,
Jhez angles closer. “Is there something I should know?” she hisses under her breath, lips not even moving, looking very much like the peeved older sister she is. Well, only older by a few minutes. But sometimes she makes it feel like years.