Revelations: Book One of the Lalassu (27 page)

“And what if the sister brings company?”

Do I have to think of everything?
Inspiration struck in the memory of his father’s failure. When the original test subject escaped from his father’s lab, the explosion had set them back decades, but it had also destroyed any potential leads for an investigation. “Wire the building to explode. Make sure all the evidence is destroyed, physical and digital. The test results have already been uploaded to our home server in Berlin, so it’s safe to sacrifice anything that might link to trace it back to us. As the Harris family are relying on forged papers, they have helpfully covered their own trail should anyone come looking for them.”

“Yes, sir.” Karan withdrew. André frowned, feeling eyes on him, but the room was empty. He shrugged the sensation off. It was irrelevant now. No one and nothing could hope to stop him. He took a moment to smooth his rumpled hair and suit. Losing one’s temper never enhanced one’s standing. His mother had taught him that before she died, and the importance of maintaining control, or at least the illusion of control, at all times. If only his father could have learned the lesson so thoroughly.

He picked up the much-handled photo. So beautiful and strong. A perfect mate. Her brothers were useful, but she was the true jewel to be sought and won. The perfect vessel to create his own loyal army of ferals, raised from the crib to obey him. No matter what it took, he would find her.

Chapter Thirty-Six

“Nada will be here in a few hours. She can help us with the ritual.” Virginia beamed at Dani from across the kitchen table. “You remember Nada, don’t you?” She continued, but Michael stopped paying attention. His despair clung to him so closely that he half expected it to form a visible cloud around him.

Dani nodded at her mother’s words, her fingers twitching at her clothes. The figurine resting on the table held her attention like a snake rattling a warning. It didn’t seem like much, the clay pale and brittle with age. An ancient statue, less than a foot tall, of a woman with her arms outstretched to either side holding a slender scepter carved with symbols. She was naked, her unnaturally round breasts contrasting sharply with scaling on her legs. Her feet were bird claws. Heavy wings flowed from her shoulders to the ground, providing a tripod of stability. Her hair was piled in chunky layers with a strange mass on top. It could be a crown or a turban, depending on how he looked at it.

The Queen of the Night, the patron goddess of the lillitu and the
lalassu
as a whole. When the conduit was restored, the statue would be restored along with it.

Michael wanted to knock the stupid thing onto the floor and watch it shatter. He wanted to stagger outside and rage against the night sky, roaring with fury.

But instead he sat at the kitchen table, listening to tactical discussions about the best way to rescue Dani’s brothers and Bernie. They were laying out multiple plans, hoping Dani would be able to tell them which plan was best once the conduit was established. Dani already seemed to be gone, leaving only a haunted shell behind as a witness.

He couldn’t stomach listening to any more cheerful optimism. Scrapings from Gwen’s room provided the perfect excuse for escape. Dani didn’t even seem to notice when he got up from the table. Certainly no one else commented. Pushing open the door to her dank, artificial cave, he saw Gwen curled up in the corner, sketching on her pad by the light of a half dozen flickering candles.

She smiled at him as he came in, calmer and more relaxed than he’d ever seen her. Of course, given how he’d first seen her in a fetal position, moaning in terror, it wasn’t that much of a stretch. He tried to shake off his building anger. This wasn’t Gwen’s fault, and she didn’t deserve to be a target.

“Checkmate to the black queen,” Gwen murmured, her charcoal pencil flying over the page. “Pieces are scattered. Have to find them before the next game.”

“Hi, Gwen,” Michael squatted next to her, deliberately out of grabbing range. He didn’t want to repeat his visit to her mind, particularly without anyone there to help both of them out.

“Only one ride per customer.” Gwen shook her head. “But I didn’t think you’d both be this dense. She found all the pieces but doesn’t want to play. And now it’s getting closer. Close enough for hot breath to whisper on my neck.”

“What’s closer?” Michael asked, his training overcoming his weariness.

“The knot. Big knot. Too many choices. The station is closed, last trains are gone. Time to tidy the toys.” She ripped the drawing off the pad, tossing it to the floor.

Michael picked it up. A tall man standing under an endless expanse of stars and darkness, his back to the audience. A vague hint of a flag undulated in the sky over him. “Who is this?”

“That’s not for you.” Gwen snatched it back, sounding as exasperated as any younger sister. “Can’t explain in words. Think I’m crazy because I can’t find the words. Want all the words to line up in neat rows like bars in a prison. You’re being an idiot.”

Michael hadn’t expected such a straightforward insult from Gwen. Or was she talking to one of the dead? He glanced over his shoulder.

“I mean you, Michael,” Gwen snorted. “You were supposed to love her.”

He didn’t have to ask who Gwen meant. “I do love her. But I can’t ask her to let everyone else suffer. This is what she wants.”

“She hurts herself over and over for old mistakes, and I’m the one who’s crazy?” Gwen’s angry laughter did not provide much evidence of sanity. “Throw herself into a pit, and you watch when you could make it all right.”

“How can I possibly make it right?” Michael asked wearily, tired of doing the socially acceptable thing. Ever since he’d picked up Dani’s lipstick at the police station, it had brought him nothing but trouble. Dear God, could it really be only three days ago? It felt like a lifetime.

“Have to show her what she’s losing. What she needs to hold on to. I tried to tell her but she doesn’t listen. Hears the words but not what I say.” Her outburst drained Gwen, leaving her limp against her bed. “No more happy ending as the words in a folder pin us all down like bugs in a drawer. I’m tired.”

“I’ll let you sleep.” Michael couldn’t wait for this horrible day to end. He couldn’t imagine going back to work on Monday and pretending nothing had changed.

“Wait,” Gwen whispered as he stood up. She fumbled through the scattered papers before holding one out to him. “This is what you need.”

It was a sketch of him and Dani kissing in the forest. A lump rose in Michael’s throat. Their bodies curved together lovingly, a partnership. No raw, ripping hunger ready to devour. Instead, it looked like a foundation they could build on to create a relationship that would withstand the pressures of the future.

“I finally got to see something pleasant. No blood or guts or screams. Just love,” Gwen murmured, already half asleep.

Michael got up and saw Dani standing in the doorway, her teeth gnawing on her lower lip. “You left,” she whispered. “I… I had to follow.”

He wished he knew what to say or how they could get from this moment to the loving partnership in Gwen’s drawing. They’d run out of time. He wanted to beg her not to do it, but he couldn’t. But watching her sacrifice herself threatened to rip his heart and soul to pieces. It wasn’t fair.

“Michael, I can’t go through this on my own.” Tears flowed down her cheeks. “I’m not strong enough. I hate it. I hate that I’ve finally found you and now it’s all going to be gone.”

He pulled her into his arms and experienced what she meant more completely than words could ever hope to describe. All the mixed emotions of fear, hope, worry, longing, love, and despair, slapped together into a terrifying collage. The paper scraped against itself as the drawing in his hand crumpled, and he couldn’t help remembering the sweetness of their kiss.

“Let’s go somewhere private,” he suggested.

Dani led him up upstairs to her tiny bedroom on the upper floor. There was barely enough room to stand beside the queen-size bed with its thick dove-gray comforter. Dani let her fingers slide down the faded wallpaper. “I’ve never brought anyone else up here. This is the one place that was always just for me. It was safe.”

“You needed a sanctuary.” Michael’s heart lifted at the evidence of caring, the hand-stitched quilts and well-loved books. “I’m glad you had one.”

Dani took the drawing from his hand, her eyes widening as she studied it. “Gwen gave you this?”

“Ah, yeah,” he admitted, embarrassed, as if he’d been caught with a dirty magazine.

“Not sure how I feel about my little sister using ghosts to spy on me.” A hint of a smile twitched at the edges of Dani’s mouth.

“Audiences were never my thing, either. But I’m glad I have it.” He caught up her free hand in his and lifted it to press a soft kiss against her knuckles. “No matter what happens, I wouldn’t change the last few days. I’m always going to treasure what we had together.” Not knowing Dani would have meant continuing to live half a life, lost in hero tales and dreams.

“I wish I could change so many things. But not meeting you.” The drawing fluttered to the ground as she dropped it to caress his cheek with her hand, just as she had in the alley the first time they talked.

To heck
with doing the right thing
. Michael threw everything aside in a mad fit of impulsive selfishness. “Be with me tonight, before the ritual.”

Dani’s hands went cold against his skin. “But the Huntress—”

“I told you I’m not afraid of the Huntress or what it can show me. Nothing scares me as much as the thought of not making love to you.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Dani’s breath exploded out of her as Michael turned her hand over to indulge in an exploratory kiss on her palm. His tongue softly caressed her skin, playing over the sensitive curve in the middle. Knowing he could sense what she felt, she reveled in her desire for him, the strength of her feelings for him. The Huntress lay quiet, appeased either from feeding or the impending ritual—she didn’t know which and she frankly didn’t care. She wasn’t about to waste a moment of this chance.

He caressed the soft skin at the back of her neck, brushing aside the long strands of hair. “Let me do this the way I’ve imagined since we first met.”

She closed her eyes and leaned her head back into his touch. Their lips met as if drawn together magnetically, exploring each other with exquisite thoroughness. She tasted the sweetness of apples and vanilla, his own unique flavor. His hair wrapped around her fingers as she slid her hands around his neck. Even as her passions flared, she held a tight grasp on her internal controls. Her last act would not be to hurt someone else.

She opened her mouth to tease his lips with her tongue, eager for more. He pulled her tighter against him, the movement threatening to overbalance them onto the bed. The thought of simply pulling him down on top of her and letting him ride her into ecstasy set her lust blazing. Michael moaned against her lips, and she smelled the spike in his arousal as his gift let him share in her excitement.

“Patience. I want to make this last,” he whispered against her mouth, interspersing the words with tiny nibbles.

Fuck patience.
Dani could practically feel the flames consuming her as his kisses skimmed down her neck. But she held herself back. This wasn’t some sordid encounter in a back alleyway. As much as her body throbbed and yearned for completion, she wanted this too badly to rush the preliminaries. There would only be one first time for them—maybe the only time.
I might have fucked plenty of others, but Michael will be the only one I make love with
. She held tight to the barriers between her and Huntress, keeping her mental doors shoved closed with all her strength, the habit of years of caution.

Michael teased her lips with his tongue. “Come back to me.”

“I’m here,” she murmured back, forcing her fears to the back of her mind.

“Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.” He grinned. “It’s not my first time.”

“It’s not your first time making love to a descendent of ancient priestesses with a legendary predator in her?” she growled with a grin, letting her hands enjoy the play of his muscles beneath the soft T-shirt. “Damn. Guess it means I don’t have to be gentle.”

“Trust me. Let me take the lead.” His scent mixed amusement and lust in a way she’d never experienced before. She found the effect oddly comforting and arousing.

“Don’t make me wait, Professor. I’m about two seconds away from ravishing you my way.” She started to yank at his shirt, but he grasped her fingers and pulled them away.

“My turn now.” His smile chased away any remnant of fear as he slowly, tortuously slid his hands along the sides of her body, lifting the edges of her T-shirt. She moaned in erotic appreciation of his warm touch on her bare skin. He gently peeled the shirt away as if unwrapping a beautiful and fragile present, easing it over her head. His clever fingers made quick work of her bra before dancing over her bare breasts like silk butterflies, learning the shape of her flesh. Dani tilted her head back, letting her hair wash over his embrace in soft waves. He accepted the invitation, pressing his lips against her vulnerable throat.

She ripped at the fastening of her jeans, eager to let her entire body enjoy his touch. The torn denim dropped to the ground, leaving her bare except for the iridescent thong clinging to her lower curves. Michael glanced down and his eyes darkened, the scent of lust growing even stronger.

It no longer felt strange to scent his reactions to her feelings. It felt right to know that he experienced the flaring spikes of desire and the raging coals radiating warmth. It was love—more than love. Love and lust and affection and respect woven into an inseparable mix. And he knew. She didn’t have to struggle with clumsy, ill-equipped words.

He just knew and used the knowledge to play her as if she were a fine instrument in the hands of a master. With simple, undemanding kisses and teasing touches, her core already throbbed on the edge. She hovered on the brink of losing control, but Michael’s strong grip kept her back from the precipice. Each touch of mouth and hand brought her higher, drawing out the tension.

Pushed past any level of endurance, she clenched her fists in his shirt. A growl rumbled in her belly and throat as she ripped the irritating barrier away.

“Ouch,” Michael chuckled, picking at the remnants hanging at his sides. “You are impatient with shirts.”

Dani contented herself with a satisfied smile and quirked eyebrow.

“Not complaining,” he added. “But I believe that makes it my turn again.”

He slid his hands along her breasts, his fingers brushing against the tight buds of her nipples. Each touch tightened her further, making patience difficult. At least now she could explore his chest with greedy eyes and fingers. His clothes disguised the lithe muscles underneath, hiding his beautiful physique from the rest of the world. Dani couldn’t help being torn by equally selfish desires to keep him to herself and to show him off to the world so other women could eat their own tongues with envy.

He lowered her onto the bed, leaning over her to run his lips along her belly, inching tortuously lower toward the shimmering, sole scrap of fabric she wore. Dani clenched her fists in the quilt, squirming under and savoring every touch. He tongued the top of the sequined thong briefly before glancing back up at her. “Is this your idea of casual, everyday wear?”

“A girl has to have some standards,” she purred. “Think of it as the toy surprise inside the box.”

“Only one?”

“I’m sure we can find more.” She reached for his belt, but he stepped back.

“It’s still my turn. Remember?” His hands trembled against her skin, betraying his own inner conflict.

Dani grinned, delighted he wasn’t as immune to her charms as he pretended.

“Don’t doubt that I want you. You’re not the only one skating on the edge.” His voice was ragged as he climbed up the bed, pressing his forehead to hers to align their bodies along every point of possible contact. The thick seams of his jeans bit roughly into her bare legs.

“Then stop hanging on the edge and take the plunge.” She pressed her hips against him, loving the thick length of his erection pressed against the fiery magma burning at her core. Even shielded by his jeans, his touch drove her wild. She captured his hand and pressed his fingers against the liquid heat between her legs.

His fingers slipped over the bare skin beneath her thong, and she caught a faint hint of surprise before it vanished back into masculine enjoyment. She kept herself meticulously waxed for performing. From his smile and aroused scent, he appreciated her efforts.

Every warrior knew a good offence was the best defense, and Dani hastened to press her advantage. She lured him with hungry kisses and knew she’d succeeded when his hands tightened against her shoulders and his hips ground against hers.

No more banter. No more teasing. She exulted in the passionate fury she’d ignited in her lover.

His mouth clamped over her breast, no longer lightly teasing but demanding. Deep, pulling suction flung any lingering awareness of caution out the window as they sped toward mutual satisfaction. The hot, hard length of him pressed against her and she eagerly rubbed against him. She wanted to feel him inside her so badly that she’d scream if it didn’t happen soon.

“Patience,” he whispered.

“I don’t wait well.” She ripped away the soaked thong and locked her fingers onto his jeans.
So close…

“Then we’ll have to take care of that.” He pulled away, and she could have killed him if frustrated desire hadn’t left her locked and shivering. He shoved his jeans down and pushed them aside.

Dani drank in the sight of him with eager eyes. Long and lithe, her professor was all sculpted muscle and sinew. His heavy erection defied gravity, straining toward her in undeniable evidence of his desire. He spread her legs wide and spent a long moment looking at her slick, swollen folds.

Her inner walls pulsed in anticipation. “Please,” she whispered, lifting her hips in invitation.

He ran a single finger across her cleft, tugging it lightly over her clit. Ecstasy bloomed and she screamed her release.

Hand gripping her bucking hips, he used gentle pressure and flicking caresses to transform her orgasm into a world-shattering cascade. Exultant pressure burned through her quivering muscles again and again. She lost touch with anything resembling reality, shattering and rebuilding only to shatter anew on peaks of pleasure.

She held tight to the walls containing the Huntress despite being out of her mind with ecstasy. But the predator within might as well have been dead. Only a faint hint of awareness buzzed on the outskirts of her consciousness as she bucked and thrashed in a continuous orgasm.

But she needed more. She needed to feel the length of him inside while her body clamped and quaked. She reached for him.

Her newly awakened greed must have slipped through to him since he immediately lifted his head and met her eyes. Her pulsing flesh demanded more. “Inside. Now,” she gasped.

To his credit, he didn’t wait for a more coherent explanation. He bent, grabbing something off the floor. Dani couldn’t help but grin as she saw the condom. Of course her Professor came prepared. Then thought took a definite back seat to feeling.

Wet and eager, there was no need to take things slow. She moaned as he slid inside her, sheathing himself in her. The stretching of her hot core taking him deeper and deeper had to be the most delicious sensation she’d ever experienced.

Until he started to move. She felt his control shatter as surely as if she’d possessed his psychometric gift. His hips began to pump, thrusting deeper and deeper into her. He curved his spine, stroking and coaxing her swollen flesh with the skill of a master violinist coaxing throbbing notes from his instrument. She clutched his firm buttocks as he rode her, matching him stroke for stroke, panting and gasping. He took her open mouth with his own, mimicking each pelvic thrust with his tongue. She abandoned any sense of self-control right along with him, letting her wild instincts rise to the fore. Primal, animalistic, she surrendered to the ancient satisfaction of feeling her man ride her hard and wet, wringing fresh orgasms from her spasming body.

She clamped down hard on him, milking and sucking on his buried shaft. He shuddered and cried out as she tipped over into
le petit mort
.

And released her hold on the Huntress.