Chapter 22
G
arrett eyed the wires lining the wall. He’d broken through the first few layers, but the explosives were well set. Blowing up the boat held a certain appeal, but he’d like to jump off first.
The outside door opened, and Kalin appeared. He eyed the damaged walls and exposed wires. “You’re about to blow yourself up.” He held a latte cup in one hand.
Garrett frowned. “You drink lattes?” For some reason, he’d figured the butcher only drank blood and sucked on dead things.
“Sure. With soy milk. That cow’s milk is full of hormones.” Kalin mock-shrugged.
Who the hell was this guy? “I figured I’d cut the blue wires.”
“Interesting.” Kalin took a gulp of the steaming brew and hummed in appreciation. “You’ll be dead in seconds if you cut all the blue wires. Or the red. Or the green.”
Garrett eyed the wires. “That leaves yellow.”
“Nope. Those, too.”
So the release was in a pattern. One he had no clue how to decipher. “How extensive is the blast?”
“You’ll only kill yourself.” Kalin leaned against the far wall. “The boat may sink, but we’ll all survive. So, young Kayrs, I wouldn’t cut a wire, were I you.”
He might survive the blast so long as his head remained attached to his body. Garrett rubbed his chin. Might as well take advantage of the calm Kurjan. “What’s your plan, anyway? I mean, your best-case scenario. You mate Janie, and what?” Not that there was a chance in hell Janie would mate this asshole.
Kalin shrugged. “First, I figure out what the big deal is with her powers, then I use them. Subsequently, we have many, many sons with power . . .”
“And you rule the world?” Was this a comic book, or what? “You know that’s crazy, right?”
“It’s not a bad plan, really. Our scientists are working on a cure for our aversion to the sun. Someday, I’ll live in the Caribbean.” His eyes swirled purple through the bright green. “Once I take care of the vampires and the lowly shifters, I’m taking out the demons.”
“Isn’t this the part where you let loose with your evil laugh?”
Kalin flashed a grin. “You’re a smart-ass, Kayrs.”
Like he’d never heard that before. “I’m realizing that you’re going to be my first kill.”
“Oh no, I’m not. I may not have your sister’s psychic powers, but there’s a moment coming up soon where somebody is headless, and it might be me. Or not. Either way, you’re not present.”
“Who is?” Garrett moved closer to the bars.
“Ask your sister.”
Oh, he would. First second he got off this stupid boat. “I take it your plan didn’t work?”
“No.” Kalin sighed. “The vampires repaired the security system faster than we’d hoped, and we didn’t get Janet out fast enough. Lost six good men, too.”
“You shouldn’t have sent them up against my family.”
“I still have you, now don’t I?” Kalin took another drink.
For now. Garrett cocked his head. “Are you really a serial killer?”
Kalin grimaced. “I do enjoy a good hunt.”
“You hunt women—even human ones. Easy prey.” Garrett’s gut clenched.
“Well, a guy does need a hobby.”
Several loud thunks echoed from up above. What the hell? Slivers of pain pierced Garrett’s brain.
Kalin lifted his head. “Damn it.” Throwing his latte on the carpet, he yanked the door opened and ran upstairs.
Garrett pressed his temples, dropping to one knee.
The air filled with tension until oxygen held weight. His back trembled. What was going on?
Fear made his ears ring. His vision blurred.
His fangs dropped.
Gunfire shook the boat. Shit. If they sank, could he get out?
The boat pitched. Men screamed. Boots thumped on the stairs.
Reality swam out of focus. Had they somehow drugged him again? Explosions shattered his mind. His stomach lurched. Stumbling to the corner, he puked up the sandwich they’d fed him earlier.
The boat rocked, and he slammed into the bars. His shoulder cracked. Pain blurred his vision. He bit through his lip to keep from crying out.
Okay. Dropping to his knees in front of the wires, he struggled to focus. Uncle Conn had spent years teaching him about bombs and detonation. The multicolored wires spread out in every direction.
The room spun, and he coughed out a laugh. Damn, he needed to focus. Sticking his pinkie in his ear, he swirled it around. Nope. No blood. Why did his brain hurt so bad?
A high-pitched shriek ripped through the night. Were his people attacking? Boots thumped down the stairs, and the door flew open.
Fear nearly knocked him down. On the other side of the bars stood a demon. White hair, black eyes, plenty of silver medals on his right breast. A soldier.
Garrett snarled and rose to a fighting stance.
The demon smiled.
Brutal images of death flashed behind Garrett’s eyes. He staggered back, his stomach revolting again. Drawing a deep breath, he tried to focus and fight through the pain.
His nerves misfired, shrieking agony into his central nervous system. Blood dripped over his upper lip from his nose. Red hazed across his vision.
The demon drew a glowing green gun from a side holster.
Garrett settled his stance. If he was going to die, he was going to face the bastard shooting him.
The demon pointed the gun and fired at the lock. The door flew open.
Garrett backed away from the open doorway, measuring the demon’s arm span. They were about the same height, but the demon was much broader through the chest. For now. Give Garrett a century or two, and he’d take the guy.
“Walk on your own, and I’ll stop the pain, Kayrs,” the demon said, his mangled vocal cords marking him as a purebred.
The guy knew his name. The horrible images disappeared form Garrett’s mind. The pain ebbed to a low throb.
Demon or not, outside the bars was much better than inside, near the explosives. So he nodded. His hands shook, so he wiped them down his pants. He reached the doorway, and the demon flipped him around to zip-tie his wrists.
The cord cut into his flesh, and he bit back a snarl.
The demon leaned in, his breath heated. “Walk quietly, and I won’t explode your brain. Fuck with me, and you’ll never think clearly again.”
Garrett nodded again. The best place to attack would be topside, where he could jump into the ocean. “Where are we going?”
“My people have been looking for you. Let’s just say we have plans.” The demon shoved him toward the open doorway.
The thought of the hell his uncle Jase had gone through almost stopped Garrett from moving. His ears rang, and his heart raced into battle mode. God. What was he going to do?
Brenna frowned at the new configuration of the living room. “I’m not sure.”
Jase groaned and dropped into an overstuffed chair, eyeing his half-finished bowl of Chunky Monkey on the end table. “We’ve been moving furniture for two hours. The moon is high, the night is dark, and I’m finished.”
“You’re on your fifth bowl of ice cream. If nothing else, you need to burn calories.” With a snort, Brenna flounced past him. Well, she tried.
He shoved out a foot to trip her. Arms windmilling, she plummeted toward him, where he easily caught her. “Are you calling me fat?”
She righted herself, shoving against his chest. “If the tight jeans fit . . .”
His fingers instantly found her rib cage.
“Nooooo.” She struggled, giggling, fire dancing on her arms.
Whoa. He’d forgotten about the fire and stopped tickling her. “Relax, darlin’.”
She sucked in air, and the fire swished out. “I’d be so upset if we burned up our new furniture.”
Pleasure filled him at her use of the word
our
. “We should probably break it in.”
Delight filled her pretty eyes as she maneuvered to straddle him. “Last time we played in this room, I broke all of your windows.”
“Our windows.”
She lifted a shoulder. “Maybe.”
Playing hard to get, was she? He kept her gaze, slowly unbuttoning her shirt. Feminine knowledge filled her eyes and provided a natural challenge. Even so, he forced himself to go slow, to stay with the fun they’d had all afternoon. “I enjoyed shopping with you.”
A dimple flashed in her left cheek. “No, you didn’t. You wouldn’t even share your ice cream.”
“I did share.” He smoothed the shirt down her arms.
“Only the first cone.” She slid her hands along his chest, humming softly.
“Well, then.” Reaching for his spoon, he pressed it against her pink mouth. “I’ll share now.”
Her tongue flicked out at the melting ice cream, and he fought a groan. Even playful, his witch was beyond sexy. “Happy now?”
She licked her lips. “No.”
His cock flared to life and tried to punch through his jeans. “You’re a hard woman to please.”
“You should try harder.” Her lids half closed.
“I really should.” So he dumped the bowl over her chest.
She burst out laughing and glanced down at the Chunky Monkey covering her bra and skin. “You didn’t. That’s so cold.”
Yeah. Her pretty nipples had sprung right to attention. “My apologies.” He couldn’t help the grin. Was this what happiness felt like? He’d forgotten.
She dug both hands through his hair. “Clean up your mess, Kayrs.”
“Of course.” He leaned in and licked the ice cream from her skin. The woman tasted even better than the dessert. So sweet.
She breathed against him, her heart clamoring beneath his mouth. A nip of a fang shredded her bra. “I’ll buy you a new one,” he whispered, dipping to capture a nipple.
“Fair enough.” She shoved him away to rip his shirt over his chest. Her eyes softened, and her fingers glided along his scars. “You truly are a beautiful man.” Leaning forward, she kissed the jagged scar above his heart.
She’d done that once before, and he’d felt her touch to his soul. “I’m nowhere near beautiful, Bren.”
She leaned back and frowned. “You are missing something.”
What? He glanced down. “Huh?”
“Aye.” Clutching his shoulders, she shoved her torso into him and rubbed herself along his chest. Wetness instantly coated his skin. With a saucy grin, she leaned back. “Now who’s sticky?”
He glanced down at the mess on his chest. “You’re going to clean that up.”
“With pleasure.” She licked along his pecs and up his jawline to nip at his ear. Then her fingers dug into his ribs.
He jumped, unsettling her. She tickled harder. He chuckled, lifted her with one hand, and ripped off her jeans.
“Smooth.” She reached for the button on his jeans and yanked it free. The disc flew into the far wall. Shimmying down his lap, she tugged the material free when he lifted his butt. Then she straddled him again, nude as could be.
Ice cream had pooled along her collarbone, so he obliged her by licking her clean. She chuckled and tilted her pelvis along his engorged shaft. She was wet and ready, and he couldn’t help but grin. They’d always been so intense, the sudden playfulness intrigued him. Even so, nothing could’ve prevented him from lifting her by the hips to settle down onto his cock.
Her eyes widened as he slowly lowered her, allowing her tight sheath to accommodate his size.
Finally, her butt hit his thighs.
He blew out air, fire flashing through his balls. Control. He needed to keep control or this would be over way too quickly.
She sighed softly, her inner thighs pressing against his legs.
Then her fingers dug into his ribs again.
He jumped, his cock scraping her internal walls. The need to pound roared through his blood. “Stop that.”
“No.” Leaning forward, tilting her body, she tickled him harder.
So he lifted her and then dropped her along his shaft.
She gasped, her eyes widening. “I do like that.” Pressing her knees into the couch, she lifted herself and then dropped back down. He groaned, and she grinned, full of fun. The sprite did it again.
His control snapped. Grabbing her hips, he turned and flattened her on the couch, thrusting hard. Her legs wrapped around him, her hands dug into his biceps, and she met each thrust with one of her own. The smile remained on her pretty face.
He grinned back, pounding harder, the need to come shoving every other thought from his head.
Gliding his finger along her lips, he shoved it inside her heated mouth. She sucked, the feeling shooting straight to his dick. Then, he removed his finger and drew a wet trail between her breasts, over her abs, along her mound . . . to twirl around her clit.
She arched against him, her eyes widening, her body thrown into an orgasm that gripped him tighter than a vise. Seconds later, his balls drew tight, and he erupted.
Seconds, minutes, maybe a lifetime later, he finally relaxed against her. Their upper chests stuck together. He laughed and picked her up. “Back to the kitchen, my ice cream fiend.”
She sighed and tucked her face into his neck.
Home. Jase held her close and wondered. Could this be home? He set her on the counter and reached for paper towels to clean their chests. Then he carried her toward the bedroom so he could get dressed.
She lay on the bed, her eyes sated. “Where are you going?”
“I need to lock the gym but I’ll be right back.” He should work out, but he’d rather grapple in bed some more with Brenna. “I promise.”
She stretched like a lazy cat. “I’ll be here.”
“I’ll hurry.” And he would.
Jase all but jogged out of the house, his heart lighter than it had been in years. The moon guided his way, soft and bright. He had to lock the gym just in case some of the younger kids got curious. There were too many weapons in there to play with.
He’d reached the pathway before Conn bellowed his name. Something in the tone chilled him to the bone. He turned and broke into a run without thinking, halting in front of his brother. Heavy boot steps echoed, and he pivoted to see Dage running toward him.