Harlequin Nocturne May 2015 Box Set: Wolf Hunter\Possessed by a Wolf (48 page)

Gradually the world stopped spinning enough for her to roll to her knees, though her head still pounded like the fireworks had moved inside her skull. Slowly, Lexie rose up, pushing her hair out of her face, and looked around.

Faran, still in wolf form, crouched over Ambrose. The fey was clearly dead, throat bloody, arms splayed as he fell. Lexie's stomach dropped and she looked away, glad she hadn't eaten for hours. She squeezed her eyes shut a moment, swallowing down her queasiness. After another breath, she managed to look back at the scene.

The wolf's yellow eyes were fixed on her, watching her every move. Lexie remained very still, not sure what to do. Suddenly, she was back in Paris, in the alley, watching a wolf stand over the body of a man. They'd come full circle.

Faran stood, head and tail low. She took a breath, wanting to say the right thing, not finding the words because no matter how much she logically grasped, it didn't stop the horror in front of her. He'd done what he could to protect her, but that meant claws and teeth. He was a wolf. Despite Faran's kindness and humor and the incredible sex, it was like loving lightning—a terrible force of nature.

But now, Lexie finally got it. She'd felt that protective rage when she'd been in chains and Ambrose had threatened Faran. And she'd just called her newborn power to slam the fey into the wall. The battle of light and dark wasn't pretty, but there were times when pretty wasn't on the menu.

Faran turned, taking a last look at Ambrose, and began padding into the dark. The moment was running like water through Lexie's fingers.
I don't need pretty, or easy, or comfortable. I need Faran.

“Wait!” she said. “Don't go.”

Faran's ears swiveled forward as he swung his massive shaggy head around. The yellow eyes were guarded. Lexie's mouth went dry. The moment he'd jumped through the window had felt just like this, balanced on a knife-edge where they would either connect or drift apart.

But this time Lexie knew exactly what she wanted. “Get over here. Neither of us gets to walk away anymore. We're stuck with each other.”

With a huff, Faran trotted a few steps and then broke into a bouncing run. Lexie flung her arms around his neck, burying her face in the rough, wiry fur. The wagging tail thumped against her knee as the warm, solid bundle of wolf all but enveloped her. After so much darkness and fear that night, the unchecked joy of it was too much. Lexie started to cry. “Thank you, thank you, I love you.”

And then suddenly she was holding a lot of hot, delicious naked man. “Whoa!”

“I love you, Lexie,” he murmured in her ear. Her heart sang in that moment. There was nothing,
nothing
, she had wanted so much to hear.

“Oh,
please
, Kenyon,” said Sam from where he stood beside Chloe a few yards away. The vampire held a hand up to his eyes. “
Please
put some clothes on.”

Chapter 28

L
ater, Lexie stood in the burning hot shower wondering if any part of her wasn't bruised. It wasn't just her body she was wondering about. The sound of Ambrose hitting the wall kept replaying in her mind, and every time she flinched. That sound, if nothing else, would keep her from ever abusing any magical skills she might develop. She'd done what she had to do, but there were real consequences and few easy answers. This wasn't some cartoon with superheroes and capes.

The rings of the shower curtain squeaked on the rod, and cold air wafted in. “Hey!” she protested.

The rings squeaked again, shutting out the cold, and then Faran was behind her, wrapping one arm possessively around her middle. “What are you thinking about?”

When she didn't answer at once, he nibbled on her shoulder. She felt her mind spin away, but snagged it back for a single, final item. “One question and then we'll close the subject of Ambrose for the night.”

“What?” Faran asked softly.

She swallowed around a lump. “Did I kill him?”

“No.”

That meant Faran had. “It was necessary,” she said.

“Yeah.”

The hot water pounded on her as she turned around and rested her cheek on his chest. She had to take the sting out of the moment, and tried to think what one of the Company men would say. They relied a lot on dark humor, and now she knew why. “I hope he tasted better than he looked.”

“Eh, not so much.”

Faran tilted her chin up and kissed her on the mouth. That was fine with her, because that meant there was no more need for awkward words. There was just the two of them, their skin and heat and unspoken understanding.

He broke the kiss and lifted her hands, cradling them gently. She'd scrubbed the filth off them and could see the damage from the cuffs now—savage scrapes where the skin had been sacrificed for freedom. He pressed his lips to them, at first reverently, but then nipping at her fingertips. The featherlight touches of teeth were weirdly erotic, as was the quick stroke of his tongue against the inside of her wrist. His lick was rough, not quite human, but it was arousing.

Her free hand slid down the hard, wet curve of his chest, circling the flat bud of his nipple. Faran leaned into her touch, bracing one hand against the tiles on either side of her. She nibbled on his jaw, tugging his earlobe with her teeth. He groaned and with one hand hit the shower controls, turning off the water.

The noise level dropped, leaving nothing but the bathroom fan and the dripping of water from their bodies. Faran slid his hands behind her, caressing the small of her back before he hoisted her upward as easily as if she was a doll. Lexie hooked her legs over his hips and hung on to his shoulders. The shower curtain slid away in a billow of steam. Faran stepped out of the shower, carrying Lexie with him.

They'd gone to a hotel—a place with no bad memories. The bed was luxurious, piled high with down quilts and cool linens. Faran laid her down, heedless of their wet skin and the long tangle of her hair. The air was cold, puckering her nipples, but wherever Faran touched was warm. And he just kept kissing her, his lips and tongue moving over her skin as if he was drinking every trace of moisture the shower had left behind.

And then he parted her knees at the edge of the bed, letting the cool air touch the inside of her thighs. Lexie felt wildly vulnerable, and wildly heated. His tongue, wet and rough, slid up the soft skin of her hip, traveling ever closer to where she wanted that touch. She shivered, ordering herself to keep her shoulders against the quilt. Sometimes a girl just had to surrender.

She inhaled as he put his tongue to work on her sex, as if this was what her body had hungered for all her life. A flame sprang to life somewhere deep in her belly. Lexie made a noise, part trepidation and part delight. A slow conquest of wet, rough pleasure was taking place, every lick making her breasts heave with her helpless gasps. Faran took his time, savoring her, leaving nothing untouched. And when the nuzzling and licking left off, suction began. Lexie's fingers dug into the covers, holding herself down, tearing with the urge to squirm.

His blue eyes danced with mischief, and something darker, as her breathing began to lose control. He rose up over her, stroking his thumbs up her abdomen in a twin arc of pressure. She shuddered under his touch, moaning as his hot, wet mouth found her nipple. Sore and flushed and needy, the flash of sensation connected every body part in a twist of erotic pleasure.

“Oh, God,” she cried.

“Give it up,” he coaxed, moving to the other breast.

And she did. Lexie arched beneath him, straining so hard she thought her spine would crack. But she was greedy, as if she had been starving and he'd just offered her one bite of a delectable meal. “More.”

With a low chuckle, he seemed to spring, rather than climb onto the bed. Lexie nearly came again just at the look on his face. His eyes had gone golden, the wolf fully present. He moved sinuously, body loose and coiled at once. Prowling. Lexie rose up on her elbows, still throbbing. The sight of him, the hard muscles sliding under his skin, did nothing to cool her desire. This time she was more than ready for his beast.

He grasped her waist, pulling her to where he wanted her. He was fully aroused, long and hard and glistening with anticipation. A condom went on and then her legs were around his waist, and he was inside, stretching her until she thought he had filled her whole body. Already primed, it was all she could do to hold on.

Faran wasn't having any of that. In one long stroke, he had her, her body erupting around him. He knew her too well and knew just what angle to use. Her nails found his shoulders this time, doing to his flesh what she'd done to the bedclothes before. He made a noise of pain and triumph, but he wasn't stopping there. His rhythm became faster and harder, winding the tension inside Lexie one more time. She writhed beneath him, her breathing now just a ragged gasp. It was like a wild ride, every swooping, dropping, flying moment of it different than the last. And he was sending her into space again, as hard and far as he could manage.

The blazing heat between them finally hit nova. Every nerve in Lexie short-circuited at once. Faran snarled as he spilled into her and her body milked him, sealing them together in a long, sweet agony of pleasure.

* * *

Afterward, they lay curled together, bundled under the wealth of luxurious covers. Lexie was spooned against Faran, her fingers laced through his. She could feel him wake from a doze, a stirring and resettling she recognized from their time together in Paris.

“So is the Company back on duty?” she asked softly.

“Yup.”

“And you're staying here until after the wedding?”

His arm tightened around her. “Mmm-hmm.”

For a moment she thought he was sleep talking—making the sort of agreeable dialogue people do when they're just trying to doze off again. She stopped speaking, figuring it would be better to let him rest.

But then he asked, “What about you? Where are you going after the ceremony is over?”

She swallowed. “Um. That depends. I have a few jobs lined up but...”

“But?”

“Will you stay in Marcari with me?” she asked quickly, getting the words out before she could stop herself.

She felt him rise up to look down on her. “Why Marcari?”

Lexie turned her head to look up at him, but she didn't have a wolf's eyes. In the dark, he was all but invisible. “I need you to keep a secret.”

“What?”

“I saw my mystery man again tonight.”

“Yeah, in the walls with Prince Leo.” She'd told him that much.

“I have to find him again. He knows what happened to my father.”

She heard Faran's breath catch. “Okay then. I can see why you want to talk to him.”

“But that's not all. I think I've guessed his secret.”

“His secret?” Faran asked dubiously.

“Yeah, and I probably shouldn't say anything,” Lexie added, feeling her heart start to pound—but this was one thing she couldn't keep from Faran. “I know who he is, and his cover probably depends on us keeping our mouths shut. He asked me not to say anything.”

Faran must have sensed her tension, because he stroked her hair in a reassuring gesture. “Who is he?”

“He called me Little Red. He always used to do that. And then I recognized him—his voice, the way he stood, everything. Until that moment, I couldn't place who he was.”

“Who?” Faran asked more urgently.

“Jack Anderson. He's not dead. He's deep, deep undercover, and he seems to know all about what's going on with the fey.”

Faran said nothing for a long moment. She could only imagine what was going on in his mind. Jack had let everyone who loved him believe he was dead.

When Faran spoke at last, it was with bloody satisfaction. “I'm so going to kick his ass.”

* * *

A dinner party came three nights later. King Renault announced it was to celebrate Amelie's full recovery, but everyone knew it was also in honor of foiling the Five's plot.

It wasn't a vast affair like the banquet. Instead, it was just Kyle's and Amelie's immediate family and the few close friends. The dinner didn't appear on the official palace timetable, and the press never knew about it. Lexie's belongings had mysteriously reappeared—she suspected Jack had found them somewhere in the bowels of the palace—but she left her cameras behind when she sat down to dinner. This was a time for the royals to be just people.

Faran cooked. Lexie knew it wasn't something he did often, which was a shame because he obviously enjoyed himself. Dish after fabulous dish came out of the kitchen, starting with the crispy shrimp she loved so much. There was a delicate cold soup and lobster salad, quail done to perfection and...Lexie just lost track. When Faran was in a very good mood, he liked to feed people. Judging by the menu, he was ecstatic.

Her one regret was that Faran couldn't be in two places at once, because she wasn't in the mood to do without him for a minute, to say nothing of an entire formal dinner with him tied up in the kitchen. She'd rather have him tied up someplace more private, but that would have to happen later.

In the meantime, she sat with Chloe and Sam and Mark Winspear and his partner, Bree Meadows, who turned out to know Prince Kyle and his infamous cousin, Maurice.

“Do you mean Maurice was here?” Bree exclaimed. “I haven't seen him for years. How is he?”

“He left yesterday for who-knows-where,” said Lexie. “He wouldn't say more than that he wanted some quiet time for songwriting.” She suspected he was actually laying low for a while to keep off the Dark Fey's radar.

“I don't understand what was going on with him,” Chloe said in an undertone.

“He caught word of the plot some time ago and volunteered to act as a double agent,” Sam said just as quietly. “I don't know who his handler was.”

Actually, Lexie could make a very good guess, but couldn't say anything. The news that Jack was alive had thrilled Faran, but he'd agreed they should keep the fact quiet. It was hard. Chloe was his niece, and the other Horsemen had looked to Jack as a friend and leader. But Jack had asked Lexie to keep his secret, and an incautious word could get him killed.

“What I don't get,” said Lexie, “is if the gates are locked on the Dark Fey, who is helping them from the outside?”

Sam shrugged. “I guess they missed a few. Probably the original Five, and over time some of those five had to be replaced with other suckers.”

“Loose ends,” Mark Winspear grumbled. He was the tall, dark and sardonic type. “Ambrose and Prince Leopold were caught, Maurice was one of ours, but the other two escaped.”

Lexie winced. Leo was under King Targon's lock and key until a suitable trial could be arranged. Since he had been plotting to murder Kyle and Amelie—not to mention every other kind of treason—it was unlikely he would walk free ever again.

Sam raised his glass. “Well, here's to 60 percent fewer bad guys.”

They could all drink to that.

Dessert came. Faran, dressed in clean whites, brought it in himself, amid a chorus of “oohs” and sincere applause. It was a
croquembouche,
a beautiful tower of choux pastry balls held together with strings of caramel and decorated with ribbon and candied flowers. It reminded Lexie of a Christmas tree, but it was a traditional dish for weddings in this part of the world.

Faran set it before Amelie and Kyle with a bow. There was a moment of silence and then Amelie picked something from the top of the tower of spun caramel and pastry.

“It's my ring!” she cried, racing around the table to kiss the cook, then Kyle and then her father. “How did you find it?”

Lexie gasped, thinking back to that night in Ambrose's makeshift dungeon. She'd been tortured for that ring.

Faran gave a wolfish grin. “I've had it since I caught the fetch on the rooftop, but if no one knew where it was, it couldn't get stolen again.”

At that moment, his eyes found hers. They held apology, but also triumph. Lexie understood. If she'd known where the ring was, the night might have ended with her death and the success of the ritual. She was brave, but she had no illusions.

Amelie flushed, oblivious to everything but her happiness. “You horrible man! Captain Valois will be so utterly cross with you.” She slid it onto her finger and cradled her hand against her chest. “But I adore you for taking care of it for me!”

Prince Kyle rose, raising his glass. “I give you Faran Kenyon, our most faithful servant.”

The company rose, happy to acknowledge a man who had not only caught a poisoner, uncovered a plot and saved the ring, but also cooked a very fine meal.

Then Princess Amelie raised her glass. “And I give you Lexie Haven, whom I've noticed being every bit as clever and resourceful as our Company members. We owe her much of the happiness in this room.”