For the Good of All (Law of the Lycans Book 7) (9 page)

“The one he made right before he disappeared?” Stone asked wryly.

“Yep.” Reno sighed. “Too optimistic in my opinion. Now we have to get him and his family out of there.”

“Any idea where they are?”

“Best case scenario is that the drug lord who took over the area is holding the family at the Lycan Embassy. Worst case, beyond them being dead, naturally, is that they’ve moved them into the jungle and you’ll have to track them down.”

“Once I find them, I’ll smuggle them out or...?”

“If you can’t get them out, you’ll signal us and we’ll have a chopper swoop in. The island of Santa Marietta is just across the channel. There’s a spot there we have access to if need be.”

Stone nodded. “Anything else?”

“I’ll bring you up to speed on what we know about the area.” Reno spread out a map and the two men began to study it.

Tina glanced towards Stone and Reno. She couldn’t hear what they were saying or read their lips.

Fudge sticks.

All she wanted was some vicarious excitement in her life, was that too much to ask? Apparently. With a sigh she headed to the back of the club. She needed to get more napkins from the storage room in the back.

As she passed by Gwyneth’s office, the other woman twisted in her chair and called out to her.

“Tina?”

“Yes?”

“Are you done behind the bar?”

“Yep. I’m just going to get some more napkins.”

“Good. You can leave early if you want. Not many customers tonight.”

“Thanks.” It wasn’t like the older woman to do favours. Tina turned to go before she changed her mind.

“I won’t pay you, of course.”

Tina held back a snort. She’d known it was too good to be true. Once again, she turned to leave.

“Wait.”

“Something else?” Mentally, she rolled her eyes. She should have been faster getting away. Now Gwyneth was going to ask her to do something horrible like clean the bathrooms.

“Be careful.”

“With the napkins? They’re only made of paper, Gwyn. I really don’t think I can damage them.”

Gwyneth scowled, her tone sharp. “I’m trying to be nice so listen up, witchling.”

Tina winced at the term. Being called witchling always made her feel like a child. Just because her powers had never fully appeared, there was no reason for Gwyn to ignore the fact that she was an adult. If Gwyneth didn’t scare her spitless, she’d confront the woman about it.

“I had a vision.”

Ah. Gwyneth hated having visions. They always put her in a bad mood.

“What was it about?” Tina didn’t really want to know. She wanted to get back to the bar in case there was a chance she could catch a word or two of Stone and Reno’s conversation. Still, one had to tread carefully around the older witch and a show of interest might be prudent.

Gwyneth gave a nod of approval and leaned back in her chair, her eyes half closed as if she were seeing the vision again. “It was about a wolf and witch. They were facing each other, bathed in a pool of silver light. The witch stretched out her hand but the wolf bared its teeth, snapping and growling. She didn’t heed its warning but continued to step closer. It lunged at the witch and the light that had surrounded her changed from silver to blood red. Then the witch vanished from sight completely leaving the wolf howling in the darkness.”

“Oh.” Tina tried to hold back a shiver as a chill washed over her.

“I don’t usually share what I see.” Gwyneth sniffed and straightened in her chair. “It never makes a difference in the end but I’ll feel guilty if something happens and I didn’t warn you ahead of time.” She turned back to her computer screen.

“Umm... Thanks.” Tina wasn’t sure if a warning given to avoid feeling guilty really warranted a thanks or not but manners had been drilled into her. “Are you sure it has to do with me?”

“No. It could be anyone in the vicinity. Even me.” Gwyneth picked up a receipt, seeming engrossed in her work again.

Tina let out a sigh of relief and dismissed the warning. “It could also mean there’s going to be a fight at the club in the near future. It’s nearly a full moon and there’s usually some kind of an incident around then.”

“Perhaps.” Gwyneth tapped a few keys then squinted at the screen again. “Visions and prophecies are always open to interpretation, curse them.”

“That they are,” Tina agreed, giving her boss one last look before heading to the back storage room.

Gwyneth was an accomplished witch. If she wanted to, the quirk of an eye brow could have a pen appearing, a sigh could bring the kettle to boil for a cup of tea. Yet, for the most part, she did things the normal way. It was safer when living among humans to act like them, she always said; no complicated cover stories were needed due to a bit of witchcraft being accidentally observed.

Visions, however, came when they wanted and that irritated Gwyneth to no end. She liked to be in control of her magic and images of the future popping up at random times emphasized that she wasn’t.

It wasn’t for lack of practice. Gwyn took being a witch seriously. Too seriously, in Tina’s opinion. Being a witch didn’t have to completely define one’s existence.

Tina made a face as she grabbed several packages of napkins. How many times had Gwyn chided her for not studying the book of spells she’d given her? How many times had Gwyneth given an exasperated sigh when asked to fix a hex gone bad? How many times had Gwyn lectured her about the need to embrace their heritage?

Tina hip-checked the storage room door shut. Unlike Gwyneth, she was a haphazard witch. Studying spells was boring and perfecting them involved too much practice. It wasn’t that she hadn’t tried. Witching just didn’t come naturally to her.

Oh, she’d had a few minor successes, enough to show the potential was there, but was it really worth the effort? Conjuring a pen when you could just grab one, boiling water when there was a coffee shop two doors down; it really was pointless. Plus, you always had to be on guard in case someone saw you. No, she’d stick to her occasional visions and prophecies. Let the Gwyneths of the world keep the craft alive.

By the time she returned to the bar, Reno was gone and Stone was sipping his water, a distant look in his eye.

“You’re done already?” He looked pointedly at her purse and sweater.

“Yep, Gwyneth is letting me leave early.”

Stone made no comment, merely draining his glass before standing and placing his hand in the small of her back. The warmth of his palm seemed to burn through her clothing and ignite a flame of desire inside her. She quickened her pace, anxious to get to her apartment.

Stone studied Christina as she lay on the bed before him. A sheen of sweat covered her skin, an unfocused look filled her eye. Lips parted, she was breathing heavily, her face flushed.

He loved the look of a woman approaching the edge of sexual satisfaction.

She was gripping the spindles of the headboard, not because he’d bound her wrists there but because he’d asked her to. It was her decision to comply or not. He was pleased she’d agreed.

Slowly, he slid his hand down her body, appreciating the satiny smoothness of her skin. He traced the juncture of her thigh then brushed his fingers over her curls and the tender flesh beneath. Her hips rose in anticipation, wordlessly expressing her desire and he paused, stretching out the moment before repeating the gesture. The small noise she made caused him to harden even more. Soon he’d possess her, drive them both to the heights and beyond, but not yet.

This would be their last night together. Tomorrow he was leaving and once the mission was complete, it was unlikely he’d return to Chicago. With that in mind, he wanted to draw the evening out. Make this last encounter especially memorable.

“Christina.” He leaned forward and whispered in her ear.

She blinked, her eyes losing some of their unfocused look. “Mmm?”

“Are your neighbours light sleepers?”

“I…I don’t know. Why?”

“Because tonight I’m going to make you scream louder than you ever have before.”

Her breathing hitched and he allowed the hint of a smile to curve his mouth.

“I’m going to take you hard, fill you so deep you’ll never be able to forget the feeling. Do you like that idea?”

She licked her lips and swallowed before slowly nodding. “Y...yes. Please.”

“Good. Because I like it, too. Feel how much.” He guided her hand to his cock, barely suppressing a groan as she began to stroke him. Damn, she was good at that. He allowed her to continue, dividing his attention between watching her hand on his body and noting her expression. When the dazed look began to fade from her eyes he moved out of her reach and bestowed a lingering kiss on her lips. “Now it’s time I returned the favour.” Moving so he straddled her, he nuzzled her breasts, kneading the soft globes before taking each nipple in turn into his mouth.

Soon she was gripping his head, guiding him from side to side. He liked the fact that she wasn’t always passive, that she made her needs known. Rumbling his approval, he slid lower, nuzzling her navel then parting her lower lips, exposing her moist core.

Lapping and teasing, he soon had her arching her back, clawing the sheets as he pleasured her.

“Stone, that’s… Oh, yes, oh yes… I can’t…”

Sensing she was about to lose control, he moved over her and slid inside her welcoming body, a simultaneous gasp coming from both of them. His body shook as he forced himself to stay still, savouring that first sweet moment of possession. Hot, wet, her walls encircled his aching flesh. He closed his eyes, a groan of pleasure escaping him before he began to move, sliding in and out, driving himself deeper and deeper into her.

Christina began clawing at his back, her legs wrapped around his waist. Indistinct cries escaped her, spurring him onward. He pressed his forehead to hers, their panting breaths intermingling. A familiar tingling was building, a feeling of fullness, of pressure. He rocked into her faster, each thrust bringing both of them closer. Suddenly, she stiffened, her arms and legs locking around him before spasms began wracking her. As she keened her release, he let himself go, driving into her as deep as he could before he gave in to his own release and collapsed on top of her.

The sound of Stone’s heavy breathing accompanied her now pounding heart. Lazily, Tina caressed his sweat slicked back, too spent to care that his body was crushing hers. His skin felt rough under her hand; long, narrow ridges like whip marks. She wondered what had happened to him, what circumstances had existed that had kept his Lycan metabolism from healing his injuries. If she asked, he likely wouldn't answer. Rather than ruin the moment, she remained silent, curbing her curiosity in favour of savouring the moment.

“Mmm.” She purred contentedly. Opening her eyes, she turned her head so she could see Stone’s face. For once it was relaxed, no tightness about his jaw, no furrows on his brow. Still strong, just less intimidating.

Perhaps sensing her gaze, he opened his eyes, a hint of a smile curving the corner of his mouth. “I’m going to miss this.”

“Miss what?”

He rolled off her onto his side. Lifting one hand, he wrapped a lock of hair around his finger. “This.”

“My hair?” It took a moment for his meaning to sink in. “Oh. You’re leaving.” She tried to keep her voice steady.

He nodded. “I catch a plane at seven-thirty in the morning.” A shadow passed over his face, bringing with it the look of tension that so often marred his features.

“And you won’t be returning.”

“To Chicago? No.”

She traced his brows, the scar on his cheek. “I still don’t know your first name.”

“It’s better this way.” He rolled onto his back. “The less information, the less there is to miss.”

“Is that how you approach all your relationships?”

“I don’t have relationships.” He tucked one arm behind his head and stared at the ceiling. “One night stands. That’s it.”

“Sorry. I forgot.” She rolled over and swung her legs out of bed. “I need to use the bathroom.” Without looking back, she left the room.

Once the door was closed, she leaned against it and took a deep breath. One night. Yeah, he’d said that…almost seven days ago. Damn. She‘d known this wasn’t going anywhere so why did it hurt so much? They’d only known each other a week. Correction, had sex for a week. She didn’t really
know
anything about him.

Pushing off from the door, she used the toilet and then splashed off her face before schooling her features into a pleasant but neutral expression. There’d be no emotional scenes from her. He’d made her no promises. If she was feeling hurt, it was her own fault.

She snagged her robe from the back of the door and slipped it on, then returned to the bedroom. Stone was sitting up in bed, his back against the headboard as he talked on his cell phone. After a moment’s hesitation she went to the dresser and picked up a brush, fixing her hair while she shamelessly listened in on his conversation. If he’d wanted privacy, he should have left the room, she reasoned.