Shadow City (26 page)

Instantly, Asherah fixed her gaze on Max, her expression frigid with fury. Her mouth was full of sharp white teeth. She pointed with one of her left hands. “Who are you?” Her words were oddly slurred and breathy.

“I’m the one who’s going to kill you,” Max said. “Don’t forget it.”

With that, she dove down into her fortress and escaped into the abyss.

T
HIS TIME, GOING INTO THE ABYSS SEEMED ALMOST
easy. Maybe practice made perfect, Max thought. She hung in the blackness for a long moment, gathering herself for what had to come next. Finally, she dove back through her fortress, all the while picturing Scooter’s lair.

She dropped onto the sand beside the stump. It was cold. The sand looked dull. It was the safest place she could think of. No one but she and Scooter even knew how to get here. She set the box on the stump and opened it again. Her stomach turned, and she closed the lid.

For a moment, she pressed her forehead against her knees. Her stomach ached from hunger, and the rest of her felt like a wrung-out rag. She needed rest. Not that there was any time for it. She needed food, too. There was some of that in her apartment. It would be nothing just to step through the abyss and be there.

She looked at herself and wrinkled her nose. She stank of blood and sweat, and her clothes were shredded. What she wouldn’t do for a shower! And her guns. She could bring her guns through to Chadaré. Her mouth curved.
Yes
.

Slowly, she stood, not letting herself think of the real reason she wanted to go home.

Alexander
.

She wanted him to know that she was still alive. She wanted all of them to know. But there wasn’t going to be time for any of that. She would eat, clean up, get her guns, and leave. That’s all.

Having left the box on the stump, Max returned to the abyss. Her heart pounded, and her stomach fluttered nervously.
Stupid
. She
wasn’t
going to see him.

She pictured her quarters, imagining her bed. A soft landing. But when she dove into her fortress, the image in her mind shifted to somewhere else.

Max bounced down in Alexander’s quarters, sprawling across
his
bed. He wasn’t in it. He should have been. It was daytime. Disappointment jerked sharply inside her.

She couldn’t wait for him. Her stomach clenched, and her eyes burned. She didn’t let the tears escape. Instead, she searched his room for a pen and paper. She’d let him know she was alive, at least, if her scent didn’t tell him that already. She held her Prime tamped down. She didn’t want any of her Blades sensing her presence. They’d come running, and she didn’t have time for that.

The point of the pen hovered over the paper. What should she say?
Dear Alexander,
she wrote. She clenched her fingers on the pen and forced herself to loosen her grip before it snapped.
Dear Alexander?
It sounded so cold and formal. She was anything but. She felt wild and explosive. But she couldn’t think of anything else, so she left it.

She tapped her fingers on the table top. What else could she say?
I was here. You weren’t. See you next time.
Brilliant. She had to do better than that.

She was concentrating so hard that she neither heard nor smelled him coming.

The door thrust open. It slammed against the wall and bounced shut with a bang. Alexander charged through like a hunting lion, his body taut with emotion.

He said nothing. He grabbed her, crushing her against him. She held on just as tightly. His mouth came down on hers with the violence of desperate need. His tongue thrust inside her lips—devouring, demanding, owning. She clutched him, her kiss equally hard. Everything she felt poured out of her into that scorching caress.

He made a sound deep inside, raw and urgent. His hands slid over her as if trying to make sure she was really there. He picked her up, and she wrapped her arms around his waist, grinding herself against him.

Cloth ripped as he tore away her shirt and flung it to the floor.

She was barely coherent enough to tell her armor to get lost before grabbing the back of Alexander’s shirt and shredding it. The armor slid away, leaving her fevered skin feeling cool. Alexander hooked his hands into her waistband and encountered the sword belts. That caught him up.

He set her on her feet and stood back, his hands tight on her hips, his eyes so hot that Max thought she might burn up. She made a noise and pressed against him. He was too far away. She wanted to feel his skin on hers; she wanted his tongue in her mouth and his body hard against her. She wanted to be so close to him that she couldn’t tell where she left off and he began.

“I thought you were dead,” he said, his voice rumbling through his chest. “I thought you were not coming back.”

“I know. I came back to let you know. But it’s not over. Scooter still needs me.”

He snarled, jerking her against him. “Needs you? What for? You belong here. With me. You are
mine
.”

“Yes,” she agreed simply. That much she’d figured out. “But I made him a promise. He’s dying. They’re
torturing
him.”

That caught him. “Who? What is going on?”

There was so much to tell and no time. No time at all. “I want to tell you,” she said. “But it doesn’t matter. Not now. Just—”

She unbuckled the sword belts. They fell to the floor with a thud. Before she could unbutton her pants, he was there, pulling them open and shoving them down. His own swiftly followed. He didn’t wait. Couldn’t, no more than she could. The need between them exploded.

He lifted her again, turning her to brace her against the wall. His cock pressed against her, and she wriggled, hissing with pleasure as she sought to impale herself on him. He groaned and clutched her tighter, stopping her movement. Max kissed his shoulders and neck, touching him frantically. His skin was satin and tasted purely of him. It was enough to send her reeling, her mind lost in a haze of want. Her body throbbed. She couldn’t contain her moans as he licked and caressed her throat and shoulders, all the while teasing her, keeping her from driving herself down onto him.

He bent and sucked her nipple into his mouth. She went rigid, throwing her head back with a mewling sound of pure delight. He growled satisfaction, and drew harder. The feeling pulled tight down to her crotch and sent whorls of exquisite pleasure dancing through her body. If she’d been standing, she probably would have melted to the floor. He bit gently and then switched to the other breast. Max could hardly contain herself. She wanted to return the caresses, but her mind had spun out of control, and all she could do was feel. Her hips ground against him.

“Please, Alexander,” she whispered.

Her world exploded. He slid inside her with one thrust. Her body pulsed around him. She clutched his shoulders as her body spasmed. He groaned and bucked against her helplessly, driving hard. Now it was her turn to laugh with the power that came with knowing his need. She rocked herself against him, and he clenched his hands on her ass.

His mouth closed on hers again. Their tongues thrust together, sweeping, devouring, adoring. Another spasm shook Max, and her mind broke apart. She cried out, not knowing what she said. He whispered against her ear, but she couldn’t hear it. She couldn’t hear anything. All she could do was feel, and it was nothing like she’d ever felt before. As if she was full of fireworks and a delight so intense there were no words for it.

He thrust harder and then stiffened, his head buried against her shoulder as he came. His raw, rasping moan brought her to the edge of bliss one more time, and she tightened her legs as her body quaked with his.

They stood panting for a long minute before Alexander lifted his head, brushing the damp hair from her forehead. His eyes were molten, his expression faintly awestruck. Max knew how he felt. It was like the universe had cracked open and they’d swum in a primordial ocean of light and fire.

“That was—” Alexander shuddered and then kissed her long and slow. He made love to her mouth, teasing and licking, delving with deft sureness. He slid his hands around her neck and around the back of her head, deepening the kiss until Max felt as if she were drowning in desire.

But there wasn’t time. She gently pushed against his chest and reluctantly let her feet slide to the floor. He groaned protest and kissed her harder, but she twisted away. “I can’t stay.”

He went utterly still, his face turning savage, his hands tightening on her. “No. Do not leave.”

“Scooter’s waiting for me,” she said. “I’ll come back.” But she couldn’t promise, and he knew it. “I need some food, weapons, and clothes. Then I have to go.”

His face contorted, and he shoved himself away. He pulled on a pair of pants and took out a shirt. He pulled it over his head. His hands linked behind his head, and he folded his elbows forward, staring sightlessly at the wall. “This is impossible,” he muttered, so low Max wasn’t sure she was supposed to hear.

The words kicked her in the stomach. “What is?”

He turned slowly, as if he’d forgotten she was there. His expression had smoothed and was now austerely chiseled, like the sharp peak of a wind-scoured mountain.

“What’s impossible?” she asked again, her stomach crawling up into her throat. She already knew the answer. She’d expected—no, demanded—so much from him and given little back. She was still making demands. Who could blame him for throwing in the towel? He wasn’t bound to Horngate. He could walk away and never look back. At the thought, Max felt herself drawing up inside, curling up around a hurt that was too raw, too deep to bear. She could lose him.

“Nothing,” he said in a clipped voice that did nothing to assuage the pain.

She couldn’t leave it at that. “C’mon, Slick. Spit it out. What crawled up your ass and died?”

His body jerked forward, and he caught himself. The power of his Prime filled the room like a thunderstorm as his emotions rose. It was dense and turbulent. Her own rose eagerly to meet it. She tamped it back. If the others realized she was there, they’d come running. As it was, she wasn’t sure how Alexander had figured it out. But that wasn’t the important question now.

“What’s your problem?” she asked.

His jaw knotted, and he folded his arms, his biceps bulging like he was fighting not to strangle her. Probably he was. It was a fabulous ending to their first time together.

His lips thinned as his mouth pulled tight. “I am sick of you walking out on me,” he said finally.

“It’s not by choice. You know that.”

He snorted disbelief.

Max had the grace to flush. It was true that she’d been dodging and running from Alexander for weeks before Scooter took her. She hadn’t known how to cope with the tidal wave of feeling she felt for him. She still didn’t, but she was done running. She was willing to drown in them, but first, she had to help Scooter. She’d promised.

“It’s different this time, Slick,” she said, knowing how lame that sounded.

“Of course it is,” he said. Then his gaze ran over her. She fought the urge to cover herself. Desire burned in his eyes, and his nostrils flared. He stepped back. “Do not let me keep you. Scooter is waiting, and I need some sleep,” he said coldly.

“That’s it?”

“What else is there?”

The question hung between them. Max had no answers for him. The pain inside her swelled, becoming so massive she could barely make herself move. “Right,” she said, her lips like wood. “I’ll get going, then.” She bent slowly and gathered up her armor and weapons, leaving her filthy clothing. Tears burned in her eyes, and she could barely see. She turned and stumbled toward the door. Her hand was on the handle when he snatched her close.

Alexander spun her around, his arms like iron bands as he held her against him. He pressed his forehead against hers. There was agony in his eyes. “What have you done to me?” he said, his voice rough as uncut diamonds. “I have done things for you that I would never have done for anyone else. I called on that bastard Holt for help. I persuaded Valery to come and be the reward for him.”

Max stared. He’d called Holt? He hated the mage bitterly. And he’d used Valery as bait to get Holt’s help? The knowledge stunned her to the core. Only she knew how deep a sacrifice it was. She had seen for herself how much Alexander hated Holt and how much he loved his sister. It was humbling. It made her emotional cowardice all the worse. She’d made him chase her when she only wanted him to catch her and hold on forever.

Ever since Giselle had betrayed her and turned her into a Shadowblade, Max had wrapped herself in emotional Kevlar. She didn’t risk her feelings. And even when they escaped and anchored themselves in her friends, in Alexander, she’d made herself believe that she could cut those ties and survive. That she couldn’t really be hurt. To make that happen, she’d kept them all at arm’s length. But now—

She couldn’t escape them. She didn’t
want
to. Not if it meant losing him.

“Do you hurt as bad as I do?” she wondered suddenly, the words escaping before she could even consider what she was saying.