Read Strife: Hidden Book Four Online

Authors: Colleen Vanderlinden

Tags: #Paranormal romance

Strife: Hidden Book Four (27 page)

“Maybe when hell freezes over,” I said. Then I turned and went back into the house, prepared myself to enter the fray again.

 

It seemed like for every fight I put an end to, two more started in its place. And it wasn’t just supernaturals anymore. Our insanity had stirred the Normals, and now there were non-superpowered idiots out in the streets fighting and looting and adding to the chaos.

Strife must have been freaking nauseous with power. This is what feeds her. And the stronger she gets, the more chaos she causes, and that sure the hell was what was happening.

The teams were spread out in a few key areas. Nain and I were near Hamtramck, where the fighting had started in the first place and which was still freaking insane. Brennan and a team of shifters were near the Grosse Pointe border. Rayna’s people, including Shanti, were near Mexicantown. Stone, Heph, and Levitt were trying to get the Delray neighborhood under control.

I fought.

I lost track of time. All I knew was that morning gave way to the brightness of afternoon, and eventually that waned to darkness again. It got to the point where the supernaturals who were causing trouble in Hamtramck started running from me and Nain.

We didn’t let them get far.

After the fighting, things in the area Nain and I were focusing on were eerily calm. We started checking the fallen to see if they could be saved. Too many Normals had been caught in the crossfire, had been targeted by Strife’s people in the hopes of drawing me out. And it had worked, but each and every injury they’d sustained added to my guilt, to my determination to find her. I had every single imp in my command looking for her non-stop. I called in favors from witches who were adept at performing location spells, though with only a description of her to guide them, there wasn’t much hope there. I had to try.

As Nain and I checked the injured, people started coming out of their houses. At first, I was worried they would attack us next, angry with us for what had happened.

An older lady in a colorful hijab came out of one of the nearby houses bearing a first aid kit and water. Down the street, a young couple came out with blankets. Within five minutes, several people had opened locked doors and come out bearing supplies, or simply offering assistance.

“Where do you need us, Angel?” the older woman asked.

I started directing them to the survivors. One of the men started boarding up windows that had been broken in the skirmish.

“Two days. I thought it would never end,” one of the young women said to an older neighbor.

“Would have been so much worse without these two protecting us,” the man said, gesturing toward Nain and I. Nain was carrying an elderly man back into his house, and I was holding the door open for them.

There were still three bodies lying in the street. Three people who had lost their lives because of Strife.

“What were their names?” I asked the elderly woman as she bandaged up one of her neighbors.

“That young man there is Jason. He just moved here a while ago. The older white man over there? That’s Arnold Sawicki. He has been my neighbor for over twenty years. And the woman next to him is his wife, Maggie.”

I memorized the names. I wouldn’t forget.

I heard a distinctive “crack” nearby; an immortal appearing. I was on guard immediately, and then I realized it was Heph. He walked out from between two houses, and I had to respect the man’s smarts. Appearing in the middle of the street would have only freaked these people out more.

“Queenie,” he said in greeting, and the Normals helping us stared at the huge man.

“Heph. How are you holding up?”

“I’m okay. Got a status report for you.”

“All right,” I said, bracing myself.

“We got all areas under control. Fights are still springing up here and there, but it feels like the worst of it is behind us. Delray, East English Village, and Mexicantown are all secured. The team is still canvassing the city, going wherever Jones is getting reports of trouble starting up.”

I nodded. “Losses?”

He shook his head. “We’re all alive and accounted for. A few human losses, and Jones is handling those.”

“I have three here as well,” I said.

“I’ll call it in. I think he was on his way back here anyway.”

I nodded.

“The good thing though, Queenie,” he began, and I looked up at him.

“Yeah?”

He grinned. “We took out a whole lot of assholes today who won’t be causing anymore trouble around here. It’s something.”

The group of Normals around us started clapping, and I smiled up at Heph.

“We’ve all had rest breaks here and there. You and the d—, Nain,” he amended, aware of our audience, “haven’t had a break since it all started. We got this. Go home and get some rest.”

“We can still help,” I said and Nain came up behind me and put a hand on my waist.

“I’m about to fall over, and you are too. We can rest for a little while.” Then he looked up at Heph. “You’ll call us if anything comes up.”

“Of course. She’d kick my ass if I didn’t.”

I smiled and shook my head. “Fine.” Nether had been raging, and it had only gotten worse the more tired I got. Sleep probably wouldn’t be a bad idea, especially if I had Nain by my side. I hugged Heph, and Nain shook his hand, and then the Normals started coming up to us, thanking us and shaking our hands. I promised I’d be back if there was trouble, and then I took Nain’s hand and led him down an alley, and I focused and seconds later, we were back in the loft while our team worked to keep the city under control.

 

Nain led me into his room, and he closed and locked the door behind us. I flipped on the TV.

“I don’t want to watch that shit, baby. We’ve been living it,” he said as he pulled his t-shirt off.

“I want to know right away if anything changes,” I said, watching the screen. “You can shower first and then I want to look at those bites.”

He came up behind me and rested his hands on my shoulders as I watched the screen. He pressed his lips to the side of my neck and I took one of his hands in mine and kissed his knuckles. He gave me one more squeeze, then turned and went into the bathroom. I sat on the edge of the bed and watched the news. Most of it at this point was the newspeople bringing in “experts” to talk about what was happening. Jones had been on earlier, and now they were showing the clip of him again, saying the DPD was working on it, and that the Angel was also working to contain the chaos.

I could have killed him for dragging my name into it. There wasn’t anything I could do about it now.

A few minutes later, I heard the shower turn off, and Nain moving around in the bathroom. He opened the door, and when he did, I went in to look at his injuries. He was standing at the sink, where he’d just finished brushing his teeth. I looked at him and tried to settle myself down. How could I be this horny when we’d been fighting for the last forty-eight hours straight? He looked mouthwatering. Pajama pants sitting low on his hips, bare chest, still slightly damp from his shower. His shoulders alone were enough to make me need a cold shower.

I forced my mind out of the gutter and walked up behind him, looking at the injuries he’d gotten in our most recent fight.

“These bites look bad,” I said, dabbing some antiseptic ointment on a gauze pad. Anyone else would have flinched when I started rubbing it on, but he stayed completely still. I looked up and he was watching me in the mirror, sapphire gaze tracking my every move.

“Afraid I’m gonna get rabies?” he asked, and I laughed a little. I kept working, knowing he was watching me. The feel of his cool skin under my fingertips, his broad back and shoulders inches from my lips made it nearly impossible to concentrate.

I worked on him carefully, not wanting to hurt him. I glanced up again and he was still watching me.

I focused on him. On being gentle. I let my fingers wander over the many pale scars across his shoulders and sides, the results of past battles. That was only three years’ worth, since he’d been back from the Nether.

I ran my hands down his back and his muscles jumped beneath my touch. The raw need coming from him was making it hard to breathe, hard not to beg him to do what we both wanted. The only thing holding me back at the moment was the knowledge that he’d been fighting for nearly two days straight, and I could feel how tired he was.

Though I had a feeling he would have been up for a little more action.

I pressed my cheek to his bare back, stood there pressed against him. It was soothing, and I needed it after the insanity of the last two days. And the two of us were both safe and alive for the time being, and he loved me and I’d made my way back to him.

I pulled back from him and looked at him again in the mirror. His hands were gripping the sides of the sink so hard I thought he’d crack it. Being touched by me, cared for by me was just as intense for him as it had been for me. He’d been touched by my tenderness as I cared for him. It wasn’t something he was used to. Wasn’t something he expected, and he would have hated for anyone else to take care of him in any way. But tenderness from me was something that made him feel good. I pressed a gentle kiss to the center of his back, and I felt a tremor go through him when I did it.

The idea that I could affect this powerful, dangerous man as much as I did still amazed me.

And he was keeping himself under control. Not touching me, not even moving. Giving me time, because I’d asked him to.

I pressed another kiss to his back. “Go to sleep before you fall over,” I said, and he turned around and pressed a quick, hard kiss to my lips. I closed the door behind him and shook my head.

As I showered, I ran through everything that had happened the past two days. The insanity of the fighting, the fact that my parents weren’t around to help. The way they just kept coming as soon as we fought one group back. It was insane.

And yet. I was happier than I’d been in a very long time.

I’ve never said I was a normal person.

I finished up and pulled on panties and a sleep tank and dried my hair. When I went back into the bedroom, Nain was sprawled out on his side of the bed, snoring quietly. I smiled to myself and shook my head, then I turned the television and lamp off and climbed into bed next to him. I turned on to my side, watching him. The rise and fall of his chest, the way he looked like he wanted to kick ass, even as he slept. He had one arm thrown up over his head, another resting on his stomach. I curled into his side and let myself drift off to sleep.

At some point during the night, my usual Nether nightmares woke me up, and I jumped, sat up in a panic. Then I remembered where I was. I was safe. I was alive. Not trapped. I couldn’t suffocate and die again.

Nain reached over and took my hand. He was used to these nightmares already, just in the short time we’d been sharing a bed again. I settled back into bed, facing him.

“Sorry,” I said softly.

“Don’t be,” he answered. Love, worry from him. Anger, that it still haunted me. A whole lot of raw need, picking up right where we’d left off before he’d fallen asleep.

That, I could do something about.

I reached out and trailed my fingertips down his chest, down his stomach. Felt his muscles jump beneath my touch, his need only heightening when I touched him. I kept my eyes on his, and he was watching me so intently I couldn’t have looked away if I’d wanted to.

I lowered my hand, sweeping my palm over the front of his pajama pants, where he was already hard, straining against the fabric. He fisted the sheets in his hands as I touched him. I felt the raw desire flowing from him, the hunger. The desire to hold me down and take what he wanted.

Instead, he was doing what he’d promised me. Giving me time. Waiting until I said I was ready.

And I so definitely was.

How tired are you now?
I asked him.

He grinned.
Not too tired for what you’re thinking about.

Prove it.

He stood up and pulled his pajama pants off, and the sight of my husband’s body illuminated by nothing but the pale moonlight outside nearly had me crying with need.

Holy shit. It was better than I remembered. Huge, everywhere. Muscles to spare. A light bit of dark hair across his chest, leading down to his navel, down further. I was kneeling on the bed, and he was standing in front of me. He leaned down, kissed me.

“We’ve got a whole lot of time to make up for,” he murmured against my lips.

I nodded, and he lowered himself to the bed, kissed me, our tongues tasting one another’s mouths, my hands running along his huge shoulders as he pushed me back onto the pillows, crawled into bed after me. Soon, he was kissing, licking, biting, touching me everywhere, ravishing me in a way only he could. The tank and panties I was wearing didn’t last long, ripped from my body as if they’d been made of tissue paper. I whimpered and moaned as he reminded me how it felt to be with him, when he was barely in control, when his demon was unleashed. The mixture of pleasure and exquisite pain he caused me, the way I begged him to do more. And I was no different. My fingernails scratched his back, and I bit his neck, his shoulders. The first time I did it, he let out a wild, animalistic growl.

“Do that again,” he said in a rough voice, and I did, and that was when he spread my thighs open and entered me in one long, hard thrust. The second he entered me, we both groaned in pleasure. Relief. It felt like coming home again, like being exactly where you know you belong.

He pressed himself deep inside me, and I cried out, the sensation of being filled by him almost too much to handle. Everything after that was kissing and low, rough curses, biting and sucking, and my body moving helplessly beneath his as he took what he wanted from me. Soon, he was thrusting into me so hard my hips were coming off of the mattress, his hands clasped with mine, pinning me down. He was terrifying when he was like that, totally in control of me, hulking, eyes gleaming, mad with lust, and it turned me on more, feeding my own demon.

“Who do you belong to?” he growled.

“You,” I panted. Aching. Aching in places I’d forgotten I could ache, and wanting more. He thrust into me, hard.

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