Beyond the Darkness (23 page)

Read Beyond the Darkness Online

Authors: Jaime Rush

Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #General, #Paranormal, #Fiction

She wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his shoulders. She moved her crevice against his erection, slowly, up and down. Two could play at the teasing game. His hands tightened on her back, fingers digging in. She put her hands on either side of his face. “No one has ever made love to me before. I want you to
make love
to me.”

Love. Because it would be nothing less with him.

She could see, though, that he’d gone beyond surrender now. Neither would walk away before they sated their bodies and souls. That delicious knowledge tingled through her.

He lifted her onto the edge of the tub, clear of the candles, and spread her legs. His mouth trailed across her inner thigh and flicked her most intimate parts. It was the first time a man had put his mouth there, and as good as his finger had felt, his mouth felt infinitely better. Wet, soft, sucking and licking, his tongue dipping into every intimate fold. She arched and rocked her head back.

She let out ragged gasps as her orgasm claimed her. When she thought he would back off and let her catch her breath, he kept moving his tongue over her supersensitive nub until an even more stunning orgasm rocked her. When she dropped over the edge one more time, she was completely breathless and stunned.

“You’re even beautiful down there.”

He meant it, his gaze heated as he gave her one last kiss there.

He kissed her again, long and lingering, and then reached down to his jeans and pulled a packet from the pocket. Of course, he would be responsible. Even in this moment.

She ran her hands over his slick back and behind, small and tight and perfect. He leaned into her touch as he put on the condom. She pressed her body against his back and slid her arms around him, her hand splayed on his chest.

He turned and pulled her close, kissing her again before sinking into the tub and pulling her down with him. He sat, and she braced her hands on his shoulders and lowered herself, feeling the tip of him pushing against her entrance. She sucked in her breath as she eased onto him. He was big, she was tight. Her fingers squeezed his shoulders, from the tightness and her need to have him inside her.

Her eyes welled with tears at the completeness of him, filling all the holes inside her soul.

“Are you all right?” he asked, watching her.

“I am so all right.”

He let her set the pace, his hands gripping her waist as she moved against him. She was still tingling from her earlier orgasms, and it didn’t take much for the pressure to build inside her. When the explosion took her, this time inside, she gasped and held onto him. She’d only heard about internal orgasms or read about them in
Cosmo
. He held tight, letting it wash over her as she arched.

Once she’d caught her breath, she whispered, “You didn’t . . .”

He was still hard inside her.

“I’m saving mine for the bed. I’m in no hurry, babe.”

She smiled at the endearment. “You never called anyone else ‘babe,’ have you?”

He shook his head, then helped her to her feet. He dried her, lovingly running the soft terry cloth over her skin. She grabbed a fresh towel from the stack and did the same for him.

He swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bed, setting her down and joining her. They made love again, and a curious thing happened as she closed her eyes and lost herself in it: she shapeshifted into a jaguar. In her mind, her body was feline, her fingers claws that kneaded his skin. It was strange and wonderful, and she rode the sensation. She felt him come this time. Still, he moved inside her, as hard as ever, until she came again.

He continued to kiss her, holding his body above hers so as not to crush her. His hair fell down like a curtain around their faces.

He paused, considering her, his expression dark. “How am I going to walk away from you now?”

She touched his face. “You don’t have to.”

“Yes, I do. And instead of tearing out a piece of my heart, like it always does, it’s going to tear the whole thing out.”

Her chest tightened. “Walking away from me tore a piece of your heart out?”

He stretched out beside her, rubbing his hand over her arm. “I told myself I wasn’t going to let this happen. I’d have the tub prepared for you and go to my room. I got half undressed, trying not to imagine you sinking into that tub . . . alone. But it wasn’t that image that broke me down. It was the memory of those words you said to me.”

She put her hand to his cheek. “You can have me. Heart, soul, everything.”

She couldn’t see his face that night when she’d first said those words. Now she could, and the impact was deep.

He took her hand, squeezing it. “I wasn’t strong enough to stay away from you tonight. But for both our sakes, I have to be strong enough to walk away once we’ve killed Baal and Yurek.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but he pressed his finger to it. “I exposed my son and his mother to danger.”

But the thought of living without him now, as he’d said, was unthinkable. She reached out to touch his cheek. “Then come into the light with me. You’ve been fighting for almost twenty years. That’s enough.”

“It’s never enough.”

“You’ll never kill them all, you know.”

She heard the weariness in his voice when he said, “I know.” He covered her hand with his, squeezing for a moment and then setting it on the bed. “Protecting you is also my purpose, and I will never do anything to put you in danger.”

No, he wouldn’t. “I don’t regret making love with you, even if it hurts more to say goodbye. I hope you don’t either.”

“I don’t. Along with the pain, I will have the memory of tonight. It’ll have to be enough.”

No, it would never be enough, but as long as he lived for his mission, she could never have more.

Chapter 17

 

Y
urek had been in the healing chamber several hours when Gaston, his superior, came into the room. Through the glass window in the chamber, Yurek watched Gaston consult with the technician on the healing process. He knew it was working; already he felt stronger.

Gaston walked up beside Yurek’s head. “You are progressing well. Now you can tell me what happened.”

This was not the conversation he wanted to be having, especially in the disadvantageous position of being on his back in the chamber. “Pope has unexpected allies.” He told Gaston everything, excluding Baal. “I can handle them, sir. I need only a few more days,” he added before Gaston could suggest sending someone else. “You must give me a chance to prove myself.”

Gaston pressed his luminescent finger to his mouth. “Two half-Callorians. This is not good. But fortunate that you discovered them.”

“Which means there may be more. I can find them, hunt them down. I am glad to take on that mission once Pope has been extracted.”

“Yes, Pope is our immediate concern. You feel you can complete your mission?”

“Without a doubt. I have been very close.”

“We do not have a lot of time. The Collaborate is anxious to find out what Pope has been hiding. Your probationary period is contingent on your being able to complete a mission on your own.”

“I know, sir.” He could think of little else, especially lying in the chamber.

Gaston remained there for a full minute, perhaps deciding. Yurek would beg for another chance, but he knew that would demean him further.

Gaston looked at the ring given to Shines to prove their association with the C. It was sitting among Yurek’s personal belongings on a table.

“I accepted your commission with us as a favor to Truxton. He assured me of your competence despite your family’s unseemly past.”

“I have long ago distanced myself from my family for that reason. I am nothing like them.” Truxton was his friend, the only person he considered family. He was a Shine, from a long, distinguished line of Shines.

“No, I see that. You may return, but I can only give you two more days to accomplish both missions: eradicate the half-species and extract Pope. If you fail, you will come back here and be replaced. We will then have to consider a future assignment for you.”

Something Yurek dared not acknowledge thrummed through him. He would not let someone take his place. If his probation was considered a failure, he would be dismissed or relegated to tracking down minor violators. He would have to quit and go back to being a mercenary, not much more prestigious than Pope now was.

“I will not fail.” The words came on a knife’s edge. “I promise you that.”

Shines weren’t allowed to bring weapons from their dimension, because they might be left behind and discovered. He knew it had once been Pope’s brother’s job to retrieve all such pieces, including fragments of aircraft that had slipped through dimension cracks. In recent years Shines had to rely on their inherent abilities when on missions to other dimensions. Yurek knew that his own power to mimic should have helped him achieve success, especially where the hunter was concerned. But thus far it had not been enough.

As a mercenary, he could bring whatever he wanted. He had to find a way to smuggle one of his weapons with him when he returned. He hated to admit he needed the edge. The C would never know.

“One more question,” Yurek asked. “Is there a chance I can return to the Earth dimension early? Pope will expect me to be back in twenty-four hours. I’d like to surprise him.”

Gaston nodded. “I’ll consult with your medic.”

P
etra woke with a start, coming out of a dream—no, a nightmare—where she watched Cheveyo get slayed by Yurek. She pushed the images of the dream, and the terror and grief, aside, taking in the man lying next to her, whole, alive.

Right here, with her.

She hadn’t moved, and he hadn’t woken. He was in that deep sleep state, but she knew any movement or sound would wake him instantly. He was on his back, and she was tucked in beside him, her hand on his chest, leg slung over his. She felt the rise and fall of his breath.

Mine. And never mine.

Her heart ached at the thought of losing him. That he could be slayed as he had in her nightmare . . . the thought drove a nail into her heart. She lifted her head just enough to see the digital clock. It was four in the morning.

Go back to sleep.

She needed every second of sleep. But it didn’t come easily. The nightmare clung to her. She had to remind herself she didn’t have dreams that portended the future, but it still felt real, imminent.

If only he would give up his mission. It was all that stood between them, all that stood between him and a real life.

When his guard was down, she’d gone into his soul and seen that horrible memory. His father had sensed her there, and she pulled out like a scared rabbit. She wasn’t scared of much anymore. She sank into Cheveyo, feeling his darkness, his isolation, and other feelings she couldn’t identify.

“Wayne? Wayne Kee?”

This time she saw the man’s face, in his human guise as a Native American, his expression a scowl. And she could converse with him as if he were actually in the room with her. “You dare to intrude in my son’s soul again? And to summon me? You are either very foolish or very brave.”

“A little of both, I suspect. I am here to beg you to release Cheveyo from this life mission you have assigned him. Can you not feel his loneliness? His need for love?”

Wayne’s face tightened.

Feelings, as inconsequential as they are, only complicate, weaken, and endanger. Callorians evolved beyond them; unfortunately my son still has them.”

“Yes, he does. Can you just dismiss them?”

“Feelings do not rid the world of dangerous beings. If he doesn’t fight them, who will? Who will step up and protect the innocent?”

She thought of Amy’s baby girl. They would protect her. “He’s put in his time. Is it fair for him to never have love, a family . . . to sacrifice happiness for his entire life? You married and had a family, yet you deny him the same.”

“I should have forgone love, though I would not have had my son. I should have been a lone warrior. Cheveyo will not make the same mistake.”

“He has lost his son, and it hurts him badly. Surely you have felt this.”

His voice softened. “That was indeed regretful. But necessary. The boy child was leading him astray. Softening him.”

Anger unfurled inside her. “He was happy, dammit! You were displeased, I’m sure, that he was actually getting to have a real life. I could give him children, and love. I could make him happy. Don’t you want that for him?”

“I want him to carry on the fight. It is in his soul. He could not live with himself if he let evil destroy his dimension.”

“You’re a selfish bastard.”

She expected backlash, but instead he laughed. A bitter laugh, though.

“Interesting that you call
me
selfish. Didn’t he tell you about my warning?”

“What warning?”

“I have seen his death, and that death is because he is with you. He will become distracted in battle when you are injured, and that will give the enemy a chance to strike. Still, he refuses to send you from him. In the end, your love for each other will destroy you both.”

Cheveyo sat up, his body stiff, face rigid. He turned to her. “You were in my soul again.” His eyes narrowed. “Talking to my
father
?”

She sat up, too, crossing her arms in front of her. “I asked him to release you of your duties.”

“You what?” He got up, stalking into the bathroom. “You had no right to go rummaging around in my soul, Petra, especially after I asked you not to.”

She surged up, following him in where he was shoving on his jeans. “You’ve been doing it my whole life. What makes it wrong when I do it?”

He spun on her, his mouth working but no sound coming out for a second. “I wasn’t interfering with your life.”

She grabbed a robe hanging on a hook nearby and pulled it on. Arguing naked was unnerving. “That’s what you think I’m doing, interfering?”

He leaned into her face. “Yes.”

“I’m trying to save you from living sad and alone the rest of your life.”

He put on his shirt and buttoned it. “Don’t try to save me from anything.”

She knew he had a stronger motivation than even his father’s directive. “You can’t bring him back, you know. Kill a thousand Otherlings, but it won’t bring your son back.”

“Leave my son out of this,” he growled, leaning in toward her face. “You think you know me because you’ve probed my soul a couple of times. You don’t know me at all.”

“I know enough about you. I know you’re driven to protect the innocent but you long for love and a normal life. Like we had tonight.”
And I know you love me.
But hell if she was going to throw that out there just now. Her voice softened. “And you deserve that.”

He pulled back and ran his hand back through his hair, his gaze aimed past her. His mouth tightened.

She moved closer, touching his arm. “Cheveyo, you do deserve love.”

He pulled away again, checking the time. “Let’s get on the road.”

He started to turn, but she grabbed his arm to stop him. “At least tell me why you don’t believe you deserve love.”

He still wasn’t looking at her. “I kill monsters. I kill beings that become monsters.” He turned to her finally, and she saw the darkness in his eyes. “And yet, I’m a monster, too.”

He walked away.

“You are not that kind of monster!”

He was gathering his things in the living area. “What makes me different?”

“You kill to save lives.”

The anger was gone from his face when he looked up at her again. “I am what I hunt. And I did not protect the most innocent person in my life. I did not protect his mother. Because of what I do, I caused their deaths. I will continue to hunt down beasts who prey on others. I will say this one more time: do not ever probe my soul again. When we’re done here, I will find a way to sever our connection so we can both move on with our lives. You’d better get ready. You have ten minutes.”

She remained there, hurt and vibrating. Their first argument. “Your father told me that he saw your death, because of me.”

“Nine minutes,” he said, flicking his wrist and pointing to his watch.

She stepped closer. “Is it true?”

“My father has never lied.”

Her chest tightened. “You’re willing to risk dying to save me. Why?”

“Because if you died and I could have done something to save you, I wouldn’t want to live. I can’t go through that again. Besides, what my father—or anyone who foretells the future—sees, is just one interpretation of it. I saw you dying in the Tomb, but even though I wasn’t there to prevent it, you didn’t die, because something extraordinary happened.”

“Pope happened.” She felt that swirl of gratitude and affection toward him. “Maybe he could save me again.”

“Maybe, but I couldn’t let you stay with him knowing he doesn’t have the ability to protect you. I made my choice, and I’ll live with it.”

“Or die because of it.”

“Eight minutes.”

Once again he was putting his safety before hers. “I will not let you die.”

“Yes, you will. Because if you try to save me, you’ll die, and I’ll be in the same place. You will revive me to live in a state of agony, because I will still have caused your death.” He took her hand and pressed it against her heart, his hand covering hers. “Promise me you will not heal me if I’m mortally wounded. If you do, you’ll never see Amy’s baby. You’ll never have one of your own. Promise.” When she didn’t, he ordered, “Promise.”

She whispered, “I promise.”

He narrowed his eyes. “And don’t run off thinking you’re going to save me. You’ll probably get me killed when I have to go after you.”

She was pinned, by both his forced promise and her lack of choices. She spun around and went into her room to get ready.

T
wo hours later they were standing on the highway. Standing. Not riding or making forward progress. An accident had stopped traffic going both ways. An ambulance had raced north minutes earlier, and now they were waiting for the tow truck to move the wreckage out of the way. Those who were held up were lounging outside their cars, irritated, impatient, or making the best of it. She could hardly make the best of it. The sand here was too soft for the bike to navigate off road. Cheveyo had gone through the pacing phase, and now seemed to have resigned himself to the wait.

When they’d stopped, she said, “Good thing we left early, huh?” only to be answered by a grunt.

He’d wandered away from the people who were gathering and gawking.

She had handed him the perfect reason to cut her off. Well, maybe it was for the best. Wouldn’t that make it easier when they parted? Because he was never going to give up his life’s mission, and she wasn’t going to live this kind of life with him. Not that he’d let her.

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