[Southern Arcana 3.0] Deadlock (18 page)

Satisfaction trickled through the pleasure spun out between them, and he whispered one word. Just one, rough and needy and without doubt a command. “Now.”

Ecstasy lashed through her, wrenching a scream from her throat. In that moment, she was completely, utterly open to him, and she relished it. He’d taken her, marked her skin and claimed her—and that made him hers.

Mine.
More than a thought, and she felt it shudder through him a split second before he tightened his grip on her hips and dragged her back into a hard, unsteady thrust. Her orgasm had barely faded when his began, and with no barriers left she felt it too, every pulse, every spike, all of it in reaction to her.

If he hadn’t been holding her, she would have slid to the floor. Carmen turned her cheek to the light quilt, cool under her flushed skin.

Alec slumped over her, his elbows digging into the bed as his forehead dropped to her shoulder. “Jesus.”

Joy bubbled up in her chest and escaped as a laugh. “I think I figured out what our problem was.”

“We had a problem?”

“Mmm. Talking, and fighting.” Her brain whirled, and she laughed again. “Fighting this.”

He eased away, only to lift her up and lay her on the bed. “Seemed like a good idea at the time. Now I’m kicking myself a little.”

She rolled onto her back. “Don’t. Plenty of time now.”

“Mmm.” He crashed next to her, stretched out and hooked one arm over her waist. “I turned off my phone. New Orleans will have to survive without me for the night.”

It didn’t seem like the sort of thing he did often. “I don’t mind if there’s an emergency, Alec. With my job, believe me, I’m used to it.”

“Eh, if there’s an emergency, they’ll find me anyway. Can’t hide from psychics and wizards. But if it can wait, I’m going to make it wait.”

She traced one finger over one of the dark lines of ink that curled around his shoulder. “Thank you.”

“For what, honey?”

The stern, serious set of his face had relaxed, and it made it easier to confess the truth. “I don’t know yet, but I’ll think of something.”

A tiny smile curved his lips. “Down payment for what I’m going to do to you when I recover in fifteen minutes?”

“I think…for not fighting anymore.”

“I was never fighting you. You know that, right?”

No, he’d been fighting himself, his own demons and the magic that had bound her. But the end result had been the same. “Doesn’t matter.”

He caught her hand against his chest. “Yeah it does. One’s about not wanting to want you. The other’s about not wanting to hurt you.”

Carmen sat up and leaned over him. “I know who my family is. If you didn’t have any reservations about getting involved with me, then you just weren’t thinking.”

Alec shrugged. “Sure. I had reservations while I was wondering if you were a femme fatale sent to mount my balls in your trophy case. As for the rest of it, hell. If anyone should have reservations, it’s about my family. And yeah, I have my share of those.”

Because of his wife. Even if she wanted to talk about it, that was definitely a conversation for another time. So Carmen propped her chin on his chest and affected a sigh. “Shows what you know. I don’t even
have
a trophy case.”

His smile widened as he lifted a hand to toy with a lock of her hair. “So where do you keep them? Bookshelf? Bathroom cabinet?”

“Interestingly enough, I usually let men leave my acquaintance still in possession of all their most beloved parts.”

“Makes sense. We’re more useful that way.”

“Exactly.” He was a beautiful man anyway, but when he let his guard down and really smiled… “You’re gorgeous.”

He twisted his finger in her hair and tugged a little. “Not as gorgeous as you.”

Warmth unfurled in her belly. “You want to argue about that now too?”

“Maybe only a little. Unless you’ve got something else in mind?”

She feathered kisses over his chest, from one shoulder to the other. “Maybe. Since you still have all your parts and all.”

If he gave her the night, she’d take it. If he gave her more, she’d take that too, and worry about everything else—including both of their families—later.

After twenty-four straight hours of sex, sleep and a silent cell phone, Alec knew the blissful vacation had to end.

Still, he didn’t expect it to end with eleven voicemails. “Jesus.”

Carmen set an open beer on the table in front of him. “What’s wrong?”

“This.” He held up the phone with its damning message count. “Not sure if the shit hit the fan, or they really missed me.”

She bit her lip. “Just Jackson, or others?”

“Guess we’ll find out.”

First was a message from Jackson, an update that he hadn’t found anything. The next two were from Kat, both accusing him of having forgotten to charge his phone but not leaving any real information. He deleted the one from his father without listening.

The fifth message made him sit upright, apprehension unfurling in his gut. His cousin’s voice—the only cousin he actually liked, and the one who lived on a ranch in Wyoming. The ranch where the Alpha’s daughters lived.

“Hey, Alec. It’s Gus. Michelle wanted me to call and ask if you can bring someone named Dr. Mendoza up here to the ranch as soon as possible. She didn’t say much else, just that the magic stuff could be bad, and coming from Michelle…” He’d paused to clear his throat. “Well, it’s the stuff she
doesn’t
say that scares the hell out of me. So watch yourself, and be careful.”

Alec hung up the phone without listening to the other messages.

Carmen stood, one hand clenched around the back of a kitchen chair, staring at him. “Alec, what is it? What happened?”

He needed to stay calm. Not panic, and not make her panic. “You know about Seers?”

She nodded jerkily. “Of course. Shapeshifters with magic. The Alpha’s daughter is one.”

“Michelle Peyton. She sent a message through one of my cousins. She knows a little about what’s happened to you, and thinks it might be a good idea if you come up so she can take a look.”

Carmen’s chest rose and fell with rapid, shallow breaths, but she only said, “I’ll pack a bag.”

Damn it all.
He could hide his alarm behind all the straight-faced stoicism he wanted, but Carmen would be able to feel it. “I overreact,” he said quietly. “Worrying is what I do. Doesn’t mean things are dire.”

“I know.” She smiled, a shaky expression that she didn’t try to hold. “I should probably hit Google, see how cold it is in New York this time of year.”

“Right idea, wrong place.” Alec shoved his chair back and rose. “Wyoming. Michelle lives on a ranch there. It’s a long story.”

“It always seems to be.” Carmen caught his hand and stared up at him. “I should have already thought of it. I, of all people, should know that feeling fine doesn’t necessarily make you fine.”

Alec leaned down and brushed his lips over her forehead. “No should-haves and could-haves now. I know someone who can fly us up to Wyoming tomorrow morning, first thing. If your stomach can handle tiny planes, that is.”

“I don’t get airsick.”

“Or nervous?” He tried to find a smile. To pretend everything was going to be fine. “Ever had a wizard pilot?”

“If so, I didn’t know.” She released him and stepped back. “Do you need to go home and pick up some things too?”

It would be easier to make all the necessary arrangements, but the thought was surprisingly unappealing. He didn’t like the idea of leaving her, especially if something might go wrong at any second.

And if it could go wrong at any second…
Gus had said as soon as possible. “Maybe we could leave tonight. I’ll call my pilot friend and we can swing by my house and pick up my stuff on the way.”

The words startled her, but she covered well. “I’ll get my bag now.” She wrapped her arms around her body as she turned and walked out of the kitchen, leaving behind a faint echo of fear and guilt.

Alec wanted to follow her. Comfort her. Hold and soothe her, as if hugs and kisses could protect her from whatever magic might be curled inside her. Waiting.

A danger he couldn’t fight, and it made his skin itch. If he made it to Wyoming without driving himself half-insane, it would be a goddamn miracle.

Chapter Eleven

The sun was still tucked behind the distant hills when Nelson set his tiny plane down on the landing strip Luciano Maglieri had built on the outskirts of his ranch. Marriage to the Alpha’s daughter had brought Luciano a small fortune—and a father-in-law anxious to visit his first grandchild.

Carmen had fallen asleep somewhere over Oklahoma, driven by exhaustion and lulled by the warmth and silence provided by the Cessna’s magical enhancements. Nelson made a tidy living as a supernatural taxi, and Alec couldn’t blame the shifters who’d rather pay for a private flight than endure hours in a cramped space, surrounded by humans.

Of course, it meant Nelson didn’t have time to stick around waiting for them. He pulled off his headset as soon as they were stopped and nodded toward the two trucks pulling toward them. “Looks like Maglieri’s waiting for you. I’ve got to get out to California for a pickup, but y’all just give me a holler when you need a ride back home. I’ll juggle things around. Make it work.”

Alec nodded and twisted in his seat. “Carmen, honey? We’re here.”

“I’m up.” She blinked and lifted her head, the red imprint of the seat standing out on her cheek. “Yeah, I’m up.”

She was rumpled, red-eyed and entirely disheveled, and it was adorable. Endearing. Less endearing was the fact that he was a forty-four-year-old man thinking words like
adorable
in the middle of a damn crisis.
Get a grip, idiot.
“Don’t have to stay up for long. It’s not even five. I’m sure no one will mind if we sleep for a couple hours.”

“I used to be able to do this,” she said ruefully. “Now I have regular shifts with occasional call. Working for Franklin has spoiled me.”

Nelson laughed. “Jake and Frank have gone soft. All this nice, cushy civilian living. I could tell you some stories from back in the day…”

God only knew what Franklin had already told her about their less-than-glorious days as supernaturals hiding in a very human army—or worse, their even less glorious days as guns for hire. “Thought you needed to get to California.”

Carmen chuckled as she gathered her bag and rose. “Mr. Nelson, if you consider them soft, then you must be far scarier than you appear to be.”

Nelson flashed her a flirtatious grin that had Alec’s fingers curling toward his palm. The urge to hit him didn’t diminish when he affected a southern drawl so “good ole boy” it even out-did Jackson. “Well, ma’am, that’s ’cause all that growlin’ just lets people know they’re comin’.”

Alec bit back a growl—barely. “We’ll call you.” Then he got the hell out of the plane before he punched his friend in the face.

Luciano climbed out of the first pickup, bleary-eyed and unshaven, and stopped short when he got a good look at Alec’s face. “Welcome to Wyoming. Got the guesthouse all set up for you.” He nodded to Carmen. “Ma’am.”

“Carmen Mendoza.” She held out a hand.

Luciano glanced at Alec again, a quick, almost furtive look, before shaking her hand quickly. “There’s room for all of us in this truck, but Dr. Mendoza’ll have to squeeze into the backseat.”

Shoving her into the back wasn’t the polite thing to do, but it would put her farther away from Luciano, and the boy wasn’t a fool. After thirty-six hours together, Carmen had Alec’s scent on her skin in a way a shower wouldn’t erase, and his temper was legendary.

Plus, he
had
kidnapped the kid and locked him in a cage.

Everyone was watching him, waiting for a response. The wind held a bitter edge, a hint of snow even in mid-April. The most important thing was getting Carmen someplace warm. He took her bag and his own and dropped them into the bed of the truck. “I’ll be fine in the back.”

“Your legs are longer,” she urged. “Sit in the front.”

Luciano ignored them both in favor of climbing into the truck, and Carmen followed suit by opening the half-door that led to the tiny backseat. Once in the truck, Alec did his best to polish up his manners. “Thanks for letting us come up here with no notice.”

Luciano laughed. “I thought Michelle as much as ordered you up here.”

“She lit a fire under Gus’s ass, but I wasn’t sure if that was on purpose.”

The other man’s humor faded with a quick look at the rearview mirror. “I think it might have been, yeah.”

So much for that hope. Alec forced a change of topic to keep his fear from growing strong enough for Carmen to sense. “I tried to call Nicole before we left, but it went straight to voicemail. I’m guessing Kat couldn’t talk Nicole and Derek out of flying down there to check on her?”

“They left yesterday. Last night.”

He wished Kat all the luck in the world talking her cousin down. At least it would keep her out of trouble…and he wouldn’t have to deal with Nicole’s smartass commentary on his too-obvious concern for Carmen. “What about the Alpha?”

“Someone escaped from Conclave custody, Jacobson. The Alpha flew back to New York to deal with the fallout.”

So the disappearance of Kat’s attacker was being taken seriously. One less thing he had to worry about. “Michelle didn’t want to see us right off, did she? I could use a couple hours of shut-eye.”

“She’s asleep.” This time, he looked away from the rough ranch road long enough to turn back and smile at Carmen. “Late breakfast around ten?”

“Thank you,” she murmured.

Five hours to get some sleep. Alec could only hope that would be enough to deal with whatever came next.

Michelle Peyton Maglieri didn’t look like she’d been up all night with a two-week-old baby.

Carmen never would have known, except that the proof of it lay beside Michelle in a white bassinet, drowsing as she sipped her herbal tea. He was small, maybe too small to have been delivered at term, but he looked healthy. Strong.

She forced her attention back to the Seer. “You didn’t have to see me so early, but thank you.”

Michelle smiled, warm but a little worn around the edges. “He’ll be up in a while anyway, and you would have heard him from the guesthouse.”