Slow Burn (25 page)

Her puma, her mate, had come to save her.

It’s over.

Sonja understood and wiped tears from her eyes. She looked
over her shoulders and let the band play while the crowd continued to sing.

The song ended several seconds later with Dez holding the
high note reserved for Sonja’s final scream.

Derrick pawed the stage and darted off through the band and
out of sight.

Relief filled her heart and washed through her, cleansing
the blood that had started to build on her hands. Tranquility settled in her
mind and raced through her, calming the sickness in her stomach.

She paused, looked back at the band, saw understanding and
relief pass over them. She ran her hands over her head and pulled sweaty
strands of dark hair back from her face. “That was fun, eh?”

The crowd cheered again.

Sonja stood taller, pranced back and forth, and looked at
her band. “We’re going to do some old shit as a closeout.”

More cheers rang out.

If she did this right, she could dissipate that black cloud
and reuse the magic.

The band played harder, faster, and then slowed things down
for Sonja to pick up her pace on the magic front. It took a lot longer but she
pulled back the malicious energy she’d stirred up earlier, taking it into her
person so she could wash it, cleanse it, send it back out into the audience and
give them what she knew to be of use.

The crowd responded in kind.

From the corner of her eye, she saw that the guards had been
replaced by real security. Must have been Derrick’s doing.

She sang on, pulling more despair and doubt from the crowd
while absorbing it into herself along with the guilt of what she’d almost been
forced to do.

She hated to be in this position but society needed her for
more than just her music. Derrick would have to accept that. She had a feeling
he’d be okay with it all, as long as they could be together and attempt some
sort of relationship, though she had no idea how it’d work. She’d just have to
have faith in him—in them.

She loved the stage, the shows, the crowds, and especially
the rush of energy that came from them once she emptied all their doubt and
left them with instinct and self-trust.

An hour later, the band finally walked offstage.

All but Sonja. She crawled off in a dramatic movement fit
for a death metal band. As she neared the edge of the stage, she saw a pair of
boots and smelled the forest, light hints of cigar, and cat. The lights went off;
the crowd disappeared with much less weight on their shoulders, ready for the
next big show.

She smelled it heavily. Jungle cat.

Derrick.

Her puma.

She stood.

“It’s time to go back home,” he whispered and kissed her
mouth, nipping at her lower lip before claiming all of her.

She threw her arms around him and murmured into the kiss.
“Yes. Back home.” The emotional damage could cling a little longer, he’d filter
it out. She’d let him take it, make it clean through their love.

She had to show Derrick her gratitude and that it came from
her heart.

Sonja broke from the kiss, felt exhaustion settle in around
her shoulders like a heavy brick. She swayed.

He held her steadily in his arms against his massive chest,
and she’d never been as grateful for someone to be in her life as she was now.

His erection pressed against her.

Sweat-soaked and tired, she grew damp between her thighs.

“Goddess, I love you, Sonja. I was so worried.”

“Me, too. I love you, Derrick.” She managed to get the words
out before swaying in his arms. Dizziness set in and the world became
blackness.

* * *

Back in her bed, Derrick lay beside her and stroked her
hair.

She held a single, pleasant memory when they returned to
California. He’d stripped her, bathed her gently, and took all the pain and
negative energy from her.

She still didn’t have her wits about her until today. “How
long have I been out?”

“A week.”

She sighed. “It was pretty brutal.”

“I can imagine. I kept thinking…” He ran fingers down her
bare arms and over her ribcage. “I had no idea how to stop you or get word to
you that we’d captured Carmela.”

She snuggled closer. “You and Max did it.”

“I had no choice. I was going after my mate to prevent her
from further suffering. And to protect our baby.”

She gasped. “Our—” Recognition dawned on her. She put a hand
to her stomach, sensing rather than feeling the puma’s knowing gaze. “I’m
pregnant.”

He nodded, worry clearly etched in his eyes. “Max scented it
first, said I was too distracted and too close to you to notice until he made
it a point to mention it.”

“I see.” She closed her eyes, letting the idea of motherhood
settle around her for a moment. How would she deal with it? How would it affect
her band? They’d surely want to support her after everything they’d been
through together. “What about the threats on my life?”

“I’ll mitigate that. And when I need help, Max will step in.
We’ve decided to…move on together.”

“Meaning?” She cocked a brow.

“Meaning if he’s going to be an uncle, he’s going to have a
more prominent role in my life and the baby’s, provided you want to keep it…and
me.”

She could do this. She could tell him what she needed, how
she needed it, and how she worried. She took a deep breath. She had to tell
him. “I need the stage.”

“This is your life.” He met her gaze. “I won’t interfere. I
just want to be a part of it.”

“You’ll be on the road a lot.”

“It’s up to you.” He looked away, then back at her. “About
the baby. I never thought—”

“Hush.” She pushed two fingers against his lips. “I want to
try, Derrick. I want to…” She closed her eyes, searching for the right words.
The lyricist in her was usually good at this sort of thing. The problem was,
this wasn’t about death and suicide or dark feelings. This truly concerned the
living side of life, things she’d never sung or written about. “I want this. I
want it all. If you’ll come with me.”

“Of course I’ll come with you. And you’ll be in my bed.” A
wicked grin crossed his lips.

“
Our
bed.” She reached for him, ran a hand through
his hair, and pulled him down for a kiss. His lips moved to cover hers,
slanting slightly while a hand caressed her belly. He tasted sweet, slightly of
tobacco and mint.

She pulled back. “Tea?”

“Yeah. It’s still early. I drove Max back to the airport
this morning and came home to be with you.”

An eyebrow rose. “How’d you know I’d be safe?”

“I had help.”

She tilted her head slightly. “No name?”

“The large cat in your dreams? It’s Erick. He’s been taking
an interest in the lives of those of us who have been in the shadows for too
long. Said it was imperative we know we’re not alone.”

“I wondered about that. He’s apparently making himself well
known among my band.”

“Yeah. He said he’d do that, more or less to check on things
and make sure the world works the way it is supposed to.”

“How can he do that?”

“Best not to ask.” Derrick shifted his weight beside her.
He’d stretched out alongside her, covering her body with just enough weight, as
though she were delicate. She’d started to get annoyed, but then she remembered
the news he’d given her. Their life now involved a baby. “Will Erick be
involved more in our life?”

“I don’t know. No one knows much about him other than the
basics. He’s quite prophetic, and while no one understands him, he is an
interesting force.”

“Yes.” she nodded. “I wager that he is. The power in my
dreams was frightening.”

“That’s Erick’s way. He’s…a mystery.” Derrick chuckled.

“Will he help Max?”

Derrick shook his head. “Therein lies the question, doesn’t
it? Max is comfortable in the shadows, content there almost. His life has always
been somewhat of a mystery since we both joined the spook brigade, but now that
he’s had interesting developments, who knows.”

She reveled in his touch, felt for his aura. Her probe
slammed into a brick wall. “What’s this?”

“I learned to shield when it’s appropriate.”

She glared. He couldn’t shut her out, not when he’d just
confessed his love for her. And the fact that she carried his child. “Derrick,
you’ll let me in?”

He smiled softly, reassurance twinkling in his purple eyes.
“After you’ve rested some. Trust me. Have faith, okay?”

Her frown softened.

He bent down to kiss her.

She tasted his tongue, that familiar pleading sensation he
brought with his mouth that always stirred her insides and made her wet.

A hand covered her breast. “Not yet. Soon, I promise. You
need rest. And we have to think about the baby. I know nothing of raising a
child; let alone how to have sex with a pregnant woman.”

She frowned hard.

“My mate shouldn’t frown. It’s not fitting for someone so
beautiful.”

She growled at his playful laughter, then settled back into
the comfort of his arms.

A few minutes of silence passed and Derrick’s hand in hers
continued to calm her. She shifted, noticed his nudity. Her lips went dry.
Handsome didn’t begin to describe him. He had a few more scars than the last
time she’d seen him naked, but the mental damage she’d sensed in him was gone,
or at least blocked from her until she healed some. He’d taken precautions,
too, the tea on his breath would calm her down, provided he let her have a cup.

She was going to go insane over being pregnant. So much she
could do, so much she’d have to deal with. The record label would have to put
the next album on hold. The tabloids would go raucous with the news that this
century’s hottest death metal band was having a baby.

A thought occurred to her. “Derrick, are we getting
married?”

He shifted again. “The question is, when, baby. Not are we.
And… when would you like?”

She closed her eyes to think. She’d never imagined having a
wedding before but it would be fitting if they had it late in the year. “The
dead of winter?”

“Dead of winter it is.” His smile managed to make her feel
even more energetic. She tried to move, her body ached, and she groaned.

“Careful.” He adjusted the covers over her. “You were out
for a long while. We made sure, bringing in a doctor Max’s, uh…” He blinked.
“…lady friend uses, to check on you. Make sure everything is fine. In about
eight and a half months, we’ll know what we’ve welcomed into this world and how
beautiful he or she will be.”

She stroked his shoulder, brushing strands of hair from his
face so she could see his eyes better. “You’re going to be a father.”

He nodded, smiling wider. Reaching for her, he pulled her to
his side, clinging to her as though his life depended on it. “And a husband to
an awesome wife.”

She snuggled closer, inhaling his powerfully masculine scent
and that of the puma, reveling in how her life had changed for the better in
the last few weeks. “You’re my beautiful mate,” she whispered.

“And you are, too, my love, my mate.”

###

If you enjoyed reading this book, I would be grateful if
you would support my work by posting a review on Amazon. I read every review
personally so I can get your feedback and make my writing even better.

If you’d like to leave a review, then all you need to do
is click the review link on this book’s page on Amazon:

Thank you again for your support!

Sascha Illyvich

About the Author

Sascha Illyvich, proclaimed by the publishing industry as
The Bad Boy of Romance, started writing sixteen years ago. His erotic romances
have been listed under Night Owl Romance’s and Road to Romance’s Recommended
read lists, and he’s been nominated for a CAPA by The Romance Studio. Recently,
Torn to Pieces
was a USA TODAY Recommended Read.

Sascha is a trained and experienced public speaker, and
enjoys giving talks and teaching, particularly on aspects of romance, erotic
romance, and writing. He was the former host of The Unnamed Romance Show on
Radio Dentata, and is fond of doing guest spots and interviews, on both
traditional radio and podcasts.

Find him at
http://saschaillyvichauthor.com

Acknowledgments

Without the following individuals, this book might not have
been written. I spend so much of my time in the darkness of these characters
heads, trying to bring them into the light while avoiding my own Hell that
coming out into reality is often difficult. I'd like to acknowledge the people
around me during the writing of the book, so we'll start this off proper with
my ex, Seletta. She believed in my writing career from day one and her support
has been paramount to me since then. Kaitlyn, you've believed in me too, the
push when I wanted to throw all of this away was needed. Katie Sparkles, we reconnected
when I was writing this book and I can't be happier to have found you this
lifetime. Max Myers of ACC Cigars got dropped into this book because of cigar
smoking, thanks for that refreshing bit of pure indulgence. Your book is next.
Momma Lion, thank you for some of your marketing ideas. Christine, Genesis,
Momma Lioness (different heartmate), Lili, Miranda, Angelia, Attilia, and
anyone else I forgot, your support has come in many different forms and for
that, I am eternally grateful. Thank you from the very bottom of my heart.