Seeker of Shadows (34 page)

Yes. Please. Take me. Keep me. Don’t send me away.

As his hand clutched at the back of her neck to still her movements, she was sure his claim would be swift and aggressive. And she’d welcome it, not afraid of him even in this fierce, primal state, because she knew
what awaited. Pleasures unimaginable. A connection of body, mind, and soul she craved with an unquenchable thirst, an ungovernable hunger.

She tried to press back against him, swaying, inviting, frustrated when his other hand steadied her hips before slowly rubbing up her bare back until he reached her shoulder. Gripping there.

He took her in one slow stroke, covering already ceded territory with a conquering force until he was sure his claim was complete. Her tiny body tensed and trembled. Then she welcomed him home with a gusty sigh of relief that turned quickly into an impatient groan for more. Each purposeful thrust brought them closer, sparking need into higher flame, expanding sensations until they couldn’t be contained within separate hearts, separate bodies, separate minds. Until they were one.

Jacques’s rough breaths scorched against her neck. His voice was unrecognizable, gravelly, rough.

“Need to taste you.”

Yes. Claim me. Make yours again. Don’t let me go.

Susanna reached back, guiding his head to her shoulder. His lips burned upon vulnerable, faintly scarred flesh, parting until she felt the sharpness of his teeth. The shock of his bite.

Ecstasy surged like a racing tide, filling her, rushing over her senses to drown them in a quick seething undertow. Swelling again to sweep her into a sensory bliss. She couldn’t breathe, could find nothing solid to cling to, panicking for a brief moment until she felt the warm beat of water upon her skin.

Was it raining?

Susanna blinked her eyes opened, weak and disoriented, to find herself in the shower. She was perched on the marble seat. Jacques knelt with his back to the spray, gently washing the already healing scratches scored into her hips and thighs. His head was bowed, his brows lowered, as he concentrated on his task. And her heart stuttered.

Her palm cupped beneath his chin, raising it until their eyes met, his so intensely blue.

Never looking away from her gaze, he took her hand, moving it up to fit his cheek. Then slowly he bent until his head rested in her lap, his eyes closing.

Emotion clogged her throat as she stroked her other hand over the powerful swell of his shoulder and arm, marveling at this moment of purposeful submission. Wondering at its meaning.

Please tell me you love me, Jacques. Please say you don’t want me to leave.

Then he straightened and stood, cranking off the water and opening the glass door to reach for towels. One he wrapped about his hips and the other he handed to her with the soft words, “We don’t have much time. Get dressed.”

Susanna’s dreams plummeted.

He was still sending her away.

By the time she’d dried off, he’d left the bedroom. She could smell coffee brewing. Because all her clothes were already packed, Susanna picked from amongst
those she’d purchased with Nica, finding a snug pair of leggings that would feel good against the cold Chicago air and a long tunic decorated with black Celtic designs upon bright scarlet. Its low V-neck edged with fluttery ruffles made her look as though she had more of what Nica called boobage. She admired the fit, knowing she’d never be able to wear anything like it again.

“There’s time for coffee, if you’d like a cup,” Jacques called from the other room.

Coffee wasn’t what she needed to warm the cold sensation seeping through her.

“No, thank you. I have a couple of phone calls to make.”

She sat on the edge of the bed they’d shared and placed the first brief call to Nica, then a second, with no little trepidation, to Damien.

“My plane lands at O’Hare at 12:50,” she began without preamble. “It’s Flight 407.”

“I’ll have someone there to meet you.” His tone gave nothing away. No inquires as to whether she was all right, if she’d been harmed. Nothing that displayed any concern at all.

“How’s Pearl?” She fought to keep her voice from quavering.

“She’s adjusting to her new accommodations.”

He’d moved her to the Community in her absence. Panic leapt, but she suppressed it. “I’d like to see her when I get home.”

Damien’s reply was dark and smooth. “That’s not going to be possible.”

“Why not?”

Instead of answering, he stated, “You’ve been very busy. Did you think we weren’t aware that you were remoting into our computers? When you arrive, we need to go over what you’re going to say to your program supervisors. I might have been able to cover for you, but I couldn’t break through your firewall to modify your material into something, shall we say, less traitorous. It will look much better for you if you present it voluntarily.”

Numbly, she asked, “Am I going to be arrested?”

“That depends upon you, my dear, and your willingness to cooperate with the terms I propose for both our futures.”

He ended the call with that silken threat.

She sat for long minutes, not thinking, not feeling, just struggling for the courage to stand.

“Susanna, it’s time to go.”

They stepped into the elevator and Jacques pushed for the garage level. Susanna stood still and seemingly relaxed, but hadn’t managed the strength to look up at the big male beside her. Then the car began to move and he spoke her name quietly.

“Anna.”

Her gaze lifted, revealing nothing.

“Thank you.”

Her brow creased slightly. “For what?”

“Leaving me with memories this time.”

He might not have meant to hurt her with those
words, but they wounded deeply. She knew he couldn’t tell from her expression so she forced a small smile. “You’ll forget them soon enough. This is the Big Easy, after all. Beer, gumbo, good times rolling.” She sucked a quick breath as his fingertips touched her cheek. Her composure shuddered, then held firm.

“You have friends who care about you here in this city.”

“I know,” she managed with a slight catch. “But they’ll forget in time, too.”

His hand combed back into her hair, bunching a handful in a fist so she couldn’t turn away as his mouth lowered to hers.

Susanna stood motionless, eyes closed, breathing even as his kisses took and tempted with a greedy urgency. His arms banded about her tightly, pulling her close, refusing to allow her any dignity until she melted against him with a soft little cry. Her tongue mated with his as furiously as their bodies had earlier, leaving her gasping and dizzy when the elevator pinged and the door opened. She stepped away, placing a staying palm against his chest as she took her bag from him with the other.

“Nica’s going to drive me to the airport.”

Jacques blinked, not making any sense of that statement until he saw the slender dark-haired female lounging by the door. He nodded at the wisdom of a quick, clean parting.

“If you need me,” he told her, his words rumbling
with heart-shredding sincerity, “you know where I’ll be.”

“Yes, I do.” She stepped out of the elevator and concluded, “A world away from where I’ll be.”

She turned away, letting the door close between them.

And tears were falling before Nica’s sports car cruised past the Superdome on its way to I-10.

“With all that sniveling over there, one would think you’re not anxious to leave.”

Susanna scrubbed at her eyes, braced by her driver’s cool comment. “It wasn’t my idea. I was blindsided with an airline ticket this morning.”

“Isn’t it just like a man to have such great timing with his gift giving.” Nica zipped around a cluster of slow-moving tour buses. “And you, of course, told him you wanted to stay with him in that nice plush apartment.”

“He didn’t give me the chance.” She swallowed down her pride to admit, “I would have stayed with him in that crappy little trailer.” She squeezed her eyes shut to prevent fresh leakage, then blinked fiercely as she demanded, “What happened last night? Do you know?”

“I was there.”

Susanna listened, horrified, as Nica laid out the events of the prior evening in unvarnished detail: Silas’s shrewd plan, the grisly killings of Jacques’s friends, the uncertainty over the fate of their clan.

“Why didn’t he tell me?”

Nica snorted. “He’s a man.”

A man who would silently accept the burden of his own worries and woes without looking for comfort or asking for support. Why hadn’t he trusted her with his pain? Was sex the only thing he thought she could have offered? She could have . . . what? Comforted him? Taken the terrible burden and consequence of his deeds away? Offered to stay with him? Apparently not an option. She was his mate. He should have turned to her.

But then, what had she done to inspire that kind of confidence? Erased his memories of her. Pushed all serious discussion of their future together away every time he’d broached them. He hadn’t believed their bond was strong enough for the test. Why would he think differently when she’d never had the chance to tell him of her plans?

But Nica wasn’t going to let Jacques take all the blame. “You might say my man is behind your quick exodus. And I’m beginning to feel a little annoyed with him about that.”

Susanna shook her head. “No. If Jacques had loved me enough to want me to stay, he would have shared all this with me.”

Nica laughed. “Yeah, right. What part of
man
don’t you understand?”

“Apparently nothing but the good parts.”

Nica downshifted for their exit. “He loves you enough to cut out his own heart. He’s trying to protect you and your daughter from being caught in the middle. If anything had happened to her while you weren’t
there with her, he knows you’d never forgive yourself. Or him. Of course, if he knew it was his own daughter . . .” She let that marinate for a moment before throwing it on the fire. “If you loved
him
enough to trust him with that, he might have surprised you.”

Susanna shifted in her seat to appeal to her friend. “What would you do in my place?”

Nica smiled. “I wouldn’t wait for someone to hand me what I wanted. I’d go after it, no holds barred.”

“And just take it?”

The dark daring eyes fixed on hers. “And just take it.”

At Susanna’s insistence, Nica dropped her off at her terminal without going inside with her. She exacted her promise to watch over Jacques and to let Charlotte know that she’d find a way to monitor Mary Kate’s progress.

And as she waited at her gate at Louis Armstrong International through what seemed endless delays due to weather at O’Hare, she pondered Nica’s words.

Just take it.

Her entire life, she’d been on the receiving end of another’s control. She’d had no direction over choices. She’d been forbidden to do the work that supported her convictions, prevented from sharing a future with the man she loved, forced to hide the pedigree of the child she adored, made to bend to the will of a man she despised.

What of all the dreams she’d had? Would she let
them all go and conform to the demands and needs of others? Is that the legacy she wanted to leave for her daughter? Put away your feelings, your dreams, your desires and live an unfulfilling life devoid of love, of passion or control?

Pearl deserved better.

And so did she.

Jacques LaRoche had started out in an emptied shell with nothing, not even a name. He’d built a new life for himself with pride and determination. Because he’d seen what he wanted and he’d taken the risks and the hardships and the heartbreaks.

And now, so would she.

Susanna began by dialing her companion.

“I’ve been thinking,” she began in a cool, firm voice. “Our arrangement isn’t working anymore. You don’t need to pretend that you care about me or my daughter. It’s always been the prestige, the accolades.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“A trade. My research for my freedom.”

Damien Frost was cautious. And then he listened.

Susanna booted up her laptop the instant the stewardess okayed electronic devices. She worked for the duration of the flight, moving, adapting, saving data onto her flash drive, finally shutting down when the Fasten Seat Belts light came on.

When she deplaned and entered her arrival gate, a man said, “Dr. Duchamps? Mr. Frost sent me. I’ll take those for you.”

She released her bags into the care of the coldly efficient bodyguard and followed him into the main wheel of the terminal. There, she gestured to a gift store.

“Can you wait just a moment? I’d like to pick up something for my daughter. She’s been ill.”

A quick search and Susanna found what she was looking for, a rather drab-colored drawing tablet with a large thick plastic ring binding. She paid and carried it from the store, then followed the driver to the parking structure.

She napped on the ride from the busy airport to their cloistered subdivision. Then, with renewed determination, she entered the house that had never been her home, eager to put it behind her as quickly as possible.

Damien was waiting for her, elegant and inscrutable.

“How was your flight?” he asked as he took her computer bag from the bodyguard, then dismissed him.

“Uneventful.” She glanced toward the stairs in anticipation. “Where’s Pearl? I told you I wanted her here.”

“She’s where she belongs.” As Susanna turned back toward him in question, he knocked her to the floor. “And now, so are you.”

Twenty-four

N
ica paused at the entrance to the main floor of
Cheveux du Chien
. Axl Rose was screaming through “Welcome to the Jungle.” Amber and Jen were chatting in the servers’ galley. Jacques was behind the bar, where he always was on a payday Friday happy hour. And there was just one customer instead of the usual packed house.

As she walked past the occupied table, the customer called out, “What’s a guy gotta do to get service around here?”