Rebel Obsession (30 page)
After having the chauffer drive him around the streets of Chicago so he could get his emotions in check and think, King Bain returned home and met Donovan at the door.
“Here.” Bain handed over the key to Io’s house.
Donovan took the key and removed the bright yellow tag before attaching it to a gold keychain. “When would you like me to go?”
King Bain considered his question a moment. “Tonight.”
“Sire?”
Miriam’s easy acceptance of the situation, in combination with the odd way his guards had returned from Io’s house two days ago had made Bain more and more uneasy on the drive home. She had been too eager to go. Something wasn’t right.
“Yes, Don, tonight. They won’t be expecting an inspection so soon. If something is going on, I want to know about it now.” He narrowed his eyes on his head guard. “Are you sure you found nothing when you were at his house before?”
“Yes, Sire. I found her chaste. The gentleman was asleep in a chair.”
“And your broken nose? How did that happen again?”
Donovan reached up and touched his nose, which still showed a hint of black and blue. The doctor on staff had had to re-break it and reset it when Donovan had arrived home. “I startled the master of the house with our intrusion. He apparently thought we were there to hurt your daughter.”
“Io didn’t see the royal insignia on your clothing?” King Bain was feeling worse and worse about the situation. He should have listened to his gut before sending Miriam back to Io’s house, but he’d been in too much of a hurry to see her illness treated. Now, his carelessness might prove costly.
“As I said, we startled him.”
King Bain had a feeling he would have to call in Cordray. She was a day walker whose power, among other things, allowed her to sift through the minds of others and find where memories had been altered. Then she could release the original memories. Her gifts came in handy during legal proceedings, but he kept her close for other reasons, as well.
“Donovan, gather the team you took to Io’s house and meet me in the conference room in half-an-hour.” He wiped his palms over his face. He just wanted to get some sleep, but this couldn’t wait.
“Yes, Sire.” Donovan bowed his head and followed him into the house.
The two parted as Donovan headed off in the direction of the security office, and King Bain marched upstairs to the master suite that took up the entire top floor of the mansion.
His wife was settled on a chaise lounge, reading. She looked up. “How did it go?”
“Too easily for my comfort, Cara.” He whipped off his wool scarf and shrugged out of his leather jacket before hanging them in the closet.
“What do you mean?” Cara set down her book.
“I mean she was much too agreeable. She didn’t argue or fight like she always does. I think more is going on here than we’ve been led to believe. I’m calling in Cordray.”
Cara drew back, her hand shooting to her throat as she inhaled sharply. She didn’t like Cordray. Cara said Cord made her uncomfortable, which was understandable. She made a lot of people uncomfortable, and not just because of her powers. It was Cord’s appearance and demeanor that usually put people off. But she was thorough and skilled at what she did. There was no one better in her field. Bain’s fondness for her went beyond business, but no one, not even Cara, knew the real relationship between Bain and Cordray, which was a secret they both protected.
“Is that necessary?” Cara fingered the ruby pendant that sat between her collarbones.
“Yes.” King Bain turned and left, not wanting to deal with Cara’s criticism of his half-sister, who happened to be his most trusted consultant. He took the spiral staircase two-at-a-time as he descended. Something was going on with his daughter, he just didn’t know what. But he could guess, and none of his guesses eased his mind.
When he reached the main floor, he took out his cell and punched in Cordray’s speed dial.
“Yes?” The female’s husky voice answered after only one ring.
“I need you here. I need a sweep.”
“Who?”
“Donovan and his team.”
“I’ll be there in fifteen.”
The line went dead. But that was how conversations went with Cord. Short, crisp, and to the point. Admittedly, he afforded her a long leash in exchange for her expertise, as well as for who she was. Only she could get away with being so cold and cavalier toward him. So far, no one had questioned him about how she got away with talking to him the way she did, but if anyone ever did, that person would learn how the term, “None of your business,” could actually break bones. He only barely tolerated Cara’s vague remarks where Cordray was concerned.
Cord was a merciless firecracker. Well, she was more like full-on TNT than a firecracker, but then maybe that was simply a side effect of her inability to feel physically. She could touch, but not feel. Pain that would cripple a warrior was but an inconsequential pinprick to Cordray.
Bain had once met with her after she had retrieved a bounty. Gunshots had been fired during the skirmish, but, as always, Cord had taken the man down. During their conversation, Bain had noticed what appeared to be a stain on her black shirt, just above her elbow. After the stain grew larger, he had asked her about it, and she had pulled up her sleeve. She had been shot.
“Oh, I didn’t know,”
she had said, poking her finger into the wound and digging around until she pulled out a slug.
Afterward, she had lowered her sleeve and continued her discussion with him as if she hadn’t just performed outpatient surgery on herself with a finger.
What would it be like not to feel? Not to suffer pain, whether physical or emotional. One thing was certain, Bain wouldn’t be feeling so helpless and keyed up right now over what might or might not be happening to his daughter. And that would be a blessing.
The idea that he could have been duped pissed him off. Had this whole thing been a trick for her to get back to Io’s house? And if so, how deep did the lie run? Tristan? Gregos? His gut told him that whatever was going on between Miriam and Io had required the assistance of others. And it had started that first night. Something had been done to his guards’ memories. Somehow Io had been able to alter their minds. The filthy heathen! How had Bain missed this? Why hadn’t he thought of this before? And how could Miriam have done this to him?
Twelve minutes later, the intercom beeped in the room.
“Yes?”
“Cordray Buveau, Sire.”
“Send her down.”
King Bain stepped into the hall and saw Cord walk through the large double doors at the entrance. She wore black, black, and more black. A long leather trench that looked more like plastic flared at her ankles as her measured, purposeful strides ate up the floor. Black, skintight leggings hugged long, slender legs, and a loose, black shirt covered her ample breasts under her coat.
Her choice of footwear surprised him, though. Knee-high combat boots with thick soles and silver hooks for the laces made her look like a gothic mercenary. She usually wore stylish shoes from top designers, but the one thing Bain knew about Cordray’s fashion tastes was that she had a shoe addiction. No doubt she had an entire wing of the mansion she lived in devoted to her collection of shoes. The boots were no doubt another addition to her growing horde.
“Hell, Bain. I could hear your thoughts from outside,” she said from halfway down the hall. She flipped her hair off her shoulder.
She had a new hairstyle, too. Surprise, surprise. When did Cordray not do something bizarre to her head of long, black hair that hung down past her ass? Today, it looked like she had a mix of twists and braids that tracked over her scalp before falling in thick, heavy, serpentine tails over her shoulders and down her back. And she had dyed sections a bright shade of aquamarine. The color accented her brilliant, blue eyes perfectly.
A strap of leather with a hook on it served as a choker around her neck, and wide leather cuffs adorned each wrist. A variety of silver and gemstone rings decorated each finger with skulls, snakes, dragons, scorpions, spiders, and Celtic designs, and a silver hoop pierced one nostril. The colorful, feathered wings of a dragon tattoo that wrapped around her torso could be seen on the exposed skin of her chest and shoulders.
In short, Cordray was a walking conversation piece, scary-looking and unbending, with the chutzpah to back up the image if anyone pushed her.
She stopped in front of him, her intense blue eyes flashing. “What’s got you so pissed off?” Her eyes narrowed, brow knitted. She was more concerned for him than she needed to be. As usual.
“Do I really need to answer that?”
She shrugged one shoulder, smirking. “We’ll talk later.”
He nodded once. “Thank you for coming. As always.” He tried to maintain an air of entitlement with her, but sometimes he didn’t want to have to work that hard.
“Of course.” She glanced over his shoulder. “Where are they?”
As if on cue, Donovan, Joseph, and the other members of Don’s team entered through the main doors.
Their steps slowed when they saw the six-one Cordray standing next to him. As with Cara, his guards weren’t huge fans of her either.
“I’ll wait inside,” Cord said flatly, one brow arched as she cast the four guards a disdainful glance. She knew how she was perceived. She accepted it, but Bain could plainly see the guards’ reactions got on her nerves.
She walked around him and into the conference room.
Donovan and each member of his team bowed their heads as they passed the king and followed her. He took a deep breath and went inside, closing the door behind him. Now he would find out the truth.
Miriam awoke with her head on Io’s chest. The two of them had dozed off after he had claimed her. She still couldn’t believe how pleasurable her deflowering had been. She had thought it would be painful or at least uncomfortable, but Io had expertly tended to her. He had known just what to do, and other than a minor pinch and a little bleeding, her first time had been memorable for all the right reasons.
She smiled against his chest. She loved him, and he loved her. They had spoken the vows to each other. Her father would be furious, but she didn’t care.
Suddenly, she shivered and a tingle zipped through her body. Instantly, her skin began to itch.
“Are you okay?” Io immediately awoke and sat up beside her, rubbing his palm over his face. “Withdrawal?”
She nodded and shivered again. “Yes. How did you…?” Her brow furrowed, a perplexed grin splashing across her mouth between shivers.
“It’s a mated male thing. I connected my mind with yours as we dozed off.”
“Oh.” This mated business just got more and more interesting.
Io hopped out of bed and put on a pair of sweats. “I’ll go make you a cup of elixir.”
She shivered again, and her teeth chattered. “Okay.”
He hurried up the stairs, and she got up and went to the restroom. A sudden wave of nausea swept through her.
Whoa! Bending over the sink, she quickly turned on the faucet, splashed water on her face and throat, and tried taking deep breaths to calm the queasy feeling that broke her out in a cold sweat.
She must have been in the bathroom longer than she thought, because Io suddenly appeared with a mug of elixir. Oddly enough, just the putrid scent of it calmed her stomach, and she guzzled it down as if her body craved it.
“You okay, baby?” Io sounded concerned, and he rubbed his hand over her back and pulled her to him as he took the cup with his free hand and set it on the counter.
“Yes. I think so.” She placed her hand on her stomach and took another deep breath and blew it out. “I just got a bit queasy.”
He held her for a minute, soothing her skin with his palms and combing his fingers through her hair. “That’s normal during detox. It’ll get better.” Io kissed her forehead. “You should have seen me. I was a mess. In way worse shape than you are.”
She nodded, feeling her body calm, then turned her face into his neck and kissed him.
He felt good. Hard, strong, like her protector. Big. Solid and sexy as hell. Her withdrawal pushed into the back of her mind and now all she wanted was to be back in his arms, his body marking hers again, making her feel decadent and sensual once more.
“Come on, let’s get you back to bed.” Io took her hand.
His marvelous green-brown eyes twinkled with lust, and she saw the tent in his sweats. He needed the same thing she did. Would she ever get enough of him? Not at this pace.
She turned off the bathroom light and followed him back to the bedroom. Her body hummed with arousal, as if answering the call of his, and she wanted to spend the next several hours wrapped up in his body.
As if reading her mind, he let go of her hand and took off his sweats before lifting the covers and climbing underneath. He rolled to his back and held the covers up for her to join him.
As soon as she slid in beside him, he dropped the blankets over them and engulfed her, pulling her on top of him.
“I can’t get over how hard I am for you.” He smoothed his hands over the cheeks of her ass. “How badly I want you.” His hands squeezed and pulled her as he shifted his hips down, making his cock slide down the center of her, parting her.
She gasped.
“Mmm.” He pushed her back down and rocked his hips forward, creating a friction between them that was beyond amazing.
Her breasts mashed against his chest and she planted her mouth over his as she lifted her hips and reached down for his erection. He worked with her, their bodies shifting and moving gently until the head of his cock breached her. As she bore down and took him all the way, they both sighed then moaned.
“Baby, you’re tight.” Io wrapped his arms around her, holding her snugly against him, gently rocking. “And wet.”
Now that he had already taken her, this time was easier. She closed her eyes and focused on how he felt.
Big.
He felt big, and all that hard size stretched her, but in a way that felt so right.