Page 18

EIGHTEEN

Ruse

There was nothing quite as gorgeous as a woman basking in the afterglow of ecstasy—an ecstasy I’d brought her to. Possibly it was even more satisfying seeing that release in Sorsha than any woman before. She was the first I’d taken to those heights while she was fully aware of what I was, and she’d welcomed everything I could offer all the same.

She sprawled out on the bed, her cheeks flushed with a rosy hue that might have been even more lovely than the waves of her red hair spread across the pillow. Her chest rose and fell where my arm lay just below her breasts. I stroked my fingers over her side just for the pleasure of touching that warm, smooth skin once more. Warm and smooth—and layered with toned muscle underneath. I appreciated a woman who could be both soft and strong. Her fiery sweet scent lingered in my nose, equally delicious.

My own skin still hummed with the aftermath of my orgasm. I’d drawn the glow back into it, returning to my more subtle mortal guise, since it wasn’t wise for any of us to get used to walking around in this realm au naturel. I’d worn these trappings of humanity often enough that this false body felt more comfortable than my own in mortal-side air, other than when I was employing my powers.

I had enjoyed my release quite a lot. Watching Sorsha give herself over so completely to the act, hearing her beg me to join her just as completely, knowing she’d wanted this interlude as much as I had—I didn’t think I’d ever come so hard.

But the moment was over, and I really ought to leave her to the rest her mortal body would be craving after the extended, chaotic night. I kissed one of those rosy cheeks and moved to push myself upright.

As I shifted on the bed, Sorsha’s hand came up to touch my arm, as if she were beckoning me to stay. My gaze shot to her face, a quiver of uncertainty prickling through me—and before I had a chance to catch myself, I’d peeked into her mind.

The emotions at the forefront were easy to read once I let myself: a pleasantly drowsy haze and a longing to keep my warmth next to her as she drifted off.

I jerked my awareness back, a twinge fluttering through my chest. She really did get some sort of contentment from my presence even now that the act I was most skilled at was over. That knowledge sparked a little more contentment in me than I was comfortable with. And as I relaxed back down next to her, the twinge sharpened into a pang of guilt.

I’d promised her I wouldn’t violate the privacy of her mind. She’d made it very clear that this one term was non-negotiable, no matter what physical intimacies we shared. If she knew I’d broken my word…

My first instinct—and, really, my second and third as well—was to dismiss that secret into the shadows where she never needed to find out. Why tell her something that would upset her if I didn’t need to? But when she stirred and rolled onto her side, catching my gaze with a dreamy little smile, the pang stabbed too deeply for me to ignore.

She’d been genuine and open with me. She’d cared enough to let me feed despite her reservations—offered me more trust than apparently she should have. Hell, she’d literally rescued me from captivity and the slow starvation I’d faced there.

I was man enough to give her the respect she’d earned, wasn’t I? Even if the consequences wouldn’t work to my favor.

“Sorsha,” I said carefully. “I—just now—I read your emotions. Only for a moment, only a few.”

Before I could go on, she jerked back from me and sat up. Her hair spilled over her shoulders like rivulets of flame—or blood. From the look on her face, I might as well have cut her. “What?”

I sat up too, groping for an acceptable explanation. “I didn’t intend to—it’s second nature at this point, and I slipped, and as soon as I realized I pulled back. It won’t happen again.”

Her arms crossed over her chest, hiding the lovely slopes of her breasts. Her voice came out taut. “If you did it without meaning to, how can you be sure you won’t accidentally trip into my head again?”

A reasonable question. “I’ll be more on guard now. I’ll?—”

“No.” She scooted farther away on the bed and motioned to the door. Her expression had tightened, shutting me out as fully as that brooch of hers once had. “I don’t want to hear it. Just get out. I—” Her hand fumbled across the bedcovers for a second before clenching. Realizing she’d left the brooch and its protections behind in her burning apartment like she had so much else? Somehow that small gesture wrenched me more than anything before had.

I was already springing off the bed as I’d been planning to in the beginning, if more hastily than before. With a blink and an ounce of concentration, the clothes I’d shed in our encounter vanished from their disarray around the room and reassembled themselves on my body. I risked glancing at Sorsha one more time. “I’m sorry.”

“Just go,” she said, her voice firm but hollow, as if my confession had drained away all the pleasure I’d given her.

I winced, the guilt expanding like a vise around my lungs, but I went.

When the bedroom door was shut between her and me, I paused in the hall to catch my breath. Nicely done. Very smooth. I’d better hope I never needed her for more sustenance, because she sure as hell wasn’t getting it on with me ever again.

She might not ever share another dance with me or laugh at my banter or, fuck, even smile at me.

None of those things should have mattered. I didn’t require any of them to survive. As I slunk to the kitchen, I reminded myself of that over and over until I was almost convinced. Almost. Well, a little chatter with Snap might cheer me up.

It wasn’t our na?ve devourer I found in the kitchen, though, but Thorn, back from his patrol and looking about as grim as usual, which I assumed meant it was good news.

I dropped into the chair across from him at the stubby Formica island that protruded from the wall. “No sign of this sword-star crew?”

“Not so far,” he said in a tone that suggested he expected they’d appear to wreak more havoc on our existence any minute now. You could hand this man a glass that was full nearly to the brim, and he’d still mutter about the smidge it was empty.

A little china bowl filled with hard candies sat in the middle of the island. I plucked one up and then simply turned it between my fingers, the cellophane crinkling. Physical food didn’t do anything for me except perhaps offer a pleasant flavor, and I wasn’t sure I was in the mood to actually stick anything in my mouth. Not after I’d already stuck my foot in there so badly with the woman down the hall.

Thorn glanced past me as if he knew where my thoughts had headed. His fathomless gaze came back to rest on my face.

Not for the first time, I wished I knew what in the realms he was. He’d never shown his full form where I could see it, and his presence in the shadows didn’t offer any qualities distinctive enough for me to match him to other beings I’d encountered. The powers I knew of—his strength and alertness to aggression—could have belonged to any number of kind.

I’d never met a devourer before Snap, only heard rumors of them. Quite possibly Thorn was some rare creature that few of us ever encountered as well. Which meant I had no clue what other powers he might be hiding behind that scarred exterior.

Omen had wanted the best of the best, at least from the shadowkind willing to take up his cause. He’d trusted Thorn. I trusted Omen… about as much as I trusted anyone. Better to leave it at that than to worry.

“You’ve been getting rather close with the mortal one,” Thorn said, with a tip of his head toward the hall.

I raised my eyebrows at him. “That is sort of my thing, as you well know. Have you got a problem with it?”

He stared right back at me, unshaken by my implied challenge. “I don’t think such involvement will make it easier to protect her. If it affects your concentration, it may bring about the opposite result instead.”

“My concentration is just fine. We cubi deal in bodily intimacies, not emotional connection—we make no secret about that.”

“So, you have no interest in her beyond physical satisfaction.”

He didn’t say it like a question, but I felt the need to answer it anyway. “I like her well enough, but I’m hardly going to get attached in any way that would throw me off my game. Omen picked me for good reason too. Everything is under control.”

And besides, it wasn’t likely I’d have any more involvement with Sorsha at all after tonight, not that I wanted to mention that to Thorn. Not that, or the fact that Omen might not have picked me if he’d been aware of one particular past lapse.

No one needed to know about that . I knew better now.

“As long as it stays that way,” Thorn said, getting up. He left me on my own in the kitchen, grappling with a rekindled uneasiness I couldn’t quite shake.