Kiss of Darkness (7 page)

The line clicked and then there was nothing but dial tone. Shit. Shit shit shit. This was not what she wanted to hear. Making her commander? She did not want that kind of responsibility. And just take care of the bonding issue? God, the Order Council was as bad as Mitchell.

Yeah people did it. It would take more than two hands to count all the hybrids she knew who’d waited till it was almost too late then bonded with the first person they could get approved. Almost all of them lived to regret it. She wouldn’t make the same mistake.

She spun around and walked to the sliding glass doors, stared out at the night, and instead of recalling the merging ceremony that had taken up so many of her early evenings over the recent years, called up the face of a man. It was as if she opened a gate and he moved into her mind, his presence somehow comforting. Reassuring.

Do you need me?

Sighing, she pressed her forehead to the glass, wishing the cool pane would flush the sudden heat from her body. She’d kept him away for ten hours but only through sheer force of will and by shutting herself off from everyone else. Even then, she’d been aware he could have got through her shields if he’d really wanted to.

Winter?

I’m fine. Go away.

The impression of a snort.
Not likely.

God, that cool retort pissed her off. He messed with her mind, messed with her body without ever laying a finger on her and all the while maintaining that distant, haughty reserve. She’d had enough. The rage, the frustration, the denied and building lust was too much to take. She snapped.

Fuck you. I’m too busy for this crap right now.

There was a long silence and, thinking he’d left her in peace for a while, she turned back to her desk to deal with the reality of her new command.

We’ll get to that. Soon enough.

So he wasn’t done. Just freaking great. She could have handled the words, even with the low sexy timbre that promised untold delights, but the stroke she felt up her inner thighs, the little nips that followed made her catch her breath and sit suddenly in her chair. She threw up that block again, the one he shouldn’t be able to get around and took a breath of relief only to have it followed by his soft laughter.

He’d found a way through. She’d half expected that. There might even have been a secret wanton side of her that was pleased by it.

“Leave,” she mumbled, relieved when her old friends thought she was talking to them and complied, exiting with frowns of concern that spoke better than any silence.

She swiveled the seat around and watched the sun set. The sky bled pink and red as invisible fingers stroked her, petted. The sky went black as her breath grew rapid. Her grip tightened so hard on the fake leather-covered arms of the chair that they cracked. She squeezed her eyes shut, a fine trembling taking over her body as she crested the edge, right on the verge of orgasm. Then he withdrew. He left her wanting, left her
hurting.
Again. She followed the path in her mind back to him.

Damn you.

In his pause there was a feeling of anticipation. And something more. Something that almost felt like…triumph.

You’ve never sought me out before
.

It surprised her to realize she hadn’t, especially on the nights he got her all wound up and left her wanting. Of course, he’d never touched her with phantom fingers before. Always there had been whispered promises, teases, except in the dreams but even in them he never let her find release. And she never initiated contact with him. It was a sign that her control was slipping even more and she tried to shore up her inner defenses.

Don’t,
he growled.
Don’t attempt to block me again.

She huffed her exasperation. She wasn’t allowed to block him out but he was allowed to key her up and deny her satisfaction? Where was the fairness of that? The amazing thing was she’d been complying with his demands. Well, enough of that. She was already good and pissed at the council. He just added to her fury and she was finished acceding to the wishes of autocratic men.

Rising from the desk, she gathered her weapons and strapped them on, purpose and determination moving through her. She glared at the cell phone and almost left it behind. Sighed. It was damned tempting but would be a mistake. The door cracked open and Gia stuck her head through the small opening. Winter met her gaze and barely managed to keep the snarl from her voice.

“What?”

“The nightwalkers have called a meeting of the Alliance.”

Which, if Mitchell’s information was correct, meant Marcus. Did he realize she was about ready to disobey his order of celibacy? Oh, he hadn’t come right out and said it, but he refused to give her what she needed and interfered when her thoughts turned to finding someone willing. Did he realize now that he’d pushed her to a point of desperation? Damn him.

“When?”

“Ten.”

She glanced at the clock on the wall. Almost nine now. Not much time to prepare. Pacing, she waved Gia in. She had a stack of boxes with her, which she leaned against one book-lined wall. Winter experienced a moment of nostalgia. This had been her office for more than twenty years. Three walls contained packed floor-to-ceiling bookcases, the fourth was a bank of windows and doors. Her desk sat in front of them facing the long conference table Gia used when she wasn’t at the Order’s downtown office. With her promotion to commander, they’d be moving from the compound. Gia, organizational genius as usual, was already on the ball.

Winter didn’t even want to contemplate the nightmare of packing to come. The tedious monotony of it made her antsy. She rolled her eyes. Like she wasn’t already? She was tempted to go straight to Mitchell, for a round of fighting or sex she couldn’t say. A part of her mind cringed at the idea of the second. If she had any sense she’d get some sleep. She’d never been good at doing the sensible thing though and now she had too many people relying on her to even think of slowing down.

“Has the news gone out yet?”

“Yes, Commander.” Gia couldn’t quite keep the amusement out of her voice and Winter glared at her.

“Not helping.”

“You’re gonna have to get used to it.” Gia shrugged. “I know you don’t believe it right now, but you’re a good choice. The best choice in this region.”

Her responding laugh was short, disbelieving. The new burden left a sour taste in her mouth, an emotional load that felt like a great weight pressing against her back and shoulders. “How do you figure that?”

“You’re respected. Relentless. Compassionate when necessary and brutal the rest of the time. Hell, you regularly spar with a lupine and walk away from it, and it’s not because he’s letting you win.”

She shrugged that last off. It was more an indication of the demon’s strength than hers. Gia was right about one thing though. Winter was relentless. She wouldn’t stop until every demon responsible for the carnage at the old commander’s compound, her old friend’s place, was found and exterminated.

She wasn’t the only one suffocating with his loss, though. Emotions had a specific feel, almost a taste, to a telepath. Sorrow was heavy and bitter in the air, in her mind, and it wasn’t all hers. She brutally squashed the feeling, covered it with indifference. It was a rare talent, being able to influence the emotions of others and Gia narrowed her eyes.

“You shouldn’t mess with people like that. Even in the Order, my feelings are my own.”

Winter agreed, but she shook her head in denial. There was no time for that now, no time for memories or regrets or self-recriminations. There was too much to do and they were running out of time. She took a deep breath, decision made.

“Later. When it’s safe.”

Gia’s expression was not quite mutinous and Winter didn’t need to use her talents to know that her friend was a little pissed at her. What Gia didn’t want to acknowledge was sorrow weighed a person down. Sorrow wasn’t just emotional pain, but physical. Too much was debilitating. Too much could get you killed. Winter took a deep breath, tried to cleanse everything from her mind and heart but determination and vengeance. She was careful to keep it from bleeding into the room, from influencing Gia’s decisions.

She closed her eyes and let the memories wash over her. Just for a moment. Just as a reminder why vengeance was so important. Ben hadn’t just brought her into the Order. He’d brought in Gia and Dupree too. He’d trained them. Watched over them until they could fend for themselves.

Winter understood where Gia’s sorrow came from, but she couldn’t indulge it yet. And that, she knew, was exactly why the council had named her his successor. She had a reputation for being cold, for being able to turn off those dangerous emotions. Unlike the council, she wasn’t so sure that was a vote in her favor. After several moments Gia’s expression smoothed. Her eyes were still sad and disturbed, but she was back in control.

“This sucks.”

“Yeah,” Winter agreed. “It does. But we can’t let our guard down yet.”

“I know.” Gia sent her a sardonic grin. “This is why they picked you.”

“I’m not sure that’s such a good thing,” she answered wryly, then poked fun at herself. Really, what else could she do? Let her capacity for coldness, for repressing her feelings bring her down, bring all of them down, or treat it with self-deprecating humor? “Do we want a heartless wench in charge? Seriously?”

Gia burst into laughter and that was all that mattered at the moment. A few seconds of normalcy. A few minutes when their world wasn’t upside down and inside out. Winter laughed with her. But it couldn’t last long and they both knew it. She spoke when the room was quiet again.

“Benjamin’s place needs to be sanitized.” No one needed to see the horror of that place, and any evidence of the hybrids’ or demons’ existence had to be wiped out before it could be sold. “And we’ll need to gather the squad leaders,” Winter said softly.

With a sober nod and an understanding wave of mental affection, Gia sat cross-legged on the end of the long conference table, reached for a notepad and pen, and started a list. Winter was struck by how quickly emotions, the focus of their worries, could change. How quickly personal loss could be pushed aside for the safety of others. At some point over the last few years she’d forgotten that, the reason she’d joined the Order in the first place.

She took her first steady breath since the council put her in charge. The idea, the responsibility, still terrified her, but she knew she’d have help. Winter felt a ghost of a grin cross her face. If there was a secret to her success, Gia and Dupree were it. He oversaw the quadrant’s training and Gia kept up with all the details.

“Let’s get a list of candidates to take over the northeast quadrant.” Gia and Dupree would stay with her as her seconds in command. “And find out where we stand on recruitment.”

Recruitment levels had fallen off dramatically over the last few years. Modern humans were fascinated by the supernatural, but they didn’t believe in it until it was staring them in the face. By that point it was usually too late. Gia’s next words so closely mirrored her thoughts that she hastily checked her shields and sighed with relief. Still intact.

“With as brazen as the demons have become recently there’ve been some sightings. We’ve just been watching those humans, making sure they don’t become targets later, but they’re a possible pool to pull from.”

She nodded. “Get someone on it. Any news from the tech people yet?”

They couldn’t go to human authorities, but they’d kept up with new technology as it developed and had their own research teams and labs in each region. The Order provided its own medical care and equipment, and the teams were made up of people who made that happen, but for the next few days they’d serve as a forensics team.

“Nothing yet. Last I heard they were still out there shifting through body parts.” Gia grimaced, turning a little green. Winter bit her lip to keep from commenting. If the circumstances were different, she’d be teasing her old friend. How someone who was as efficient a killer as Gia could be so queasy was beyond Winter. Gia had been ribbed over it for years and quickly changed the subject.

“When the team is done I’ll make arrangements to move the archive library. We need to find a more central location.” The archive library contained copies of all the Order’s histories, dating back to the founding. It was housed at the commander’s compound.

“Start looking for one.”

By tradition the commander’s compound was close to the city with the squad compounds spread out like wheel spokes around it. Under normal circumstances, she’d just take over the old place but that was impossible. It was compromised. Thankfully the Order had deep pockets and they’d be able to buy something appropriate as soon as they found one.

“Anything else?”

Suddenly overwhelmed and exhausted just at the mere thought of everything that had to be done, she leaned her head back against the chair and closed her eyes while Gia began discussing other members of the Order. Likes, dislikes, strengths, duties. Thank God, Gia was staying with her. Aside from being her best friend, the woman was an expert manager and she remembered everything. Unlike Winter. She would have been a much better choice for commander. Lifting her head, Winter narrowed her eyes.

“Why me? Why not you or Dupree?”

Gia snorted. “Dupree?”

She had a point. Dupree was an exceptional fighter, charming when he wanted to be, but a loner to the bone who often went out of his way to irritate people. Not at all the kind of personality the council wanted in charge.

“Okay not Dupree. What about you?”

Gia blanched. “No way. I’m definitely more sidekick material. I don’t deal with the emotional shit as well and I do not want the responsibility. It’s all yours, babe.”

“I don’t want it either,” she grumbled.

Gia grinned. “You say that now, but if they’d picked one of the others you’d be challenging someone inside a week. You may not want it, but you wouldn’t trust anyone else to do it. And neither would we.”

Damn. She hated to admit it, but as she mentally called up what she knew of the other quadrant leaders she was forced to admit Gia was right. Before she could frame a response, the door opened and Dupree strolled through, shutting it with a soft
click
behind him.