Page 10 of Polestar (The Global Paranormal Security Agency #3)
TEN
A na dragged herself out of bed, stumbled toward the shower, and forced her chaotic, exhausted emotions into a semblance of order.
After a kiss like that, how could anyone sleep?
Every inch of her body was hypersensitive and wound to the point of snapping.
All she could think about was the taste, smell, and feel of Magnus.
Magnus! How the heck had that happened?
She turned on the shower faucet with a snap.
It had all seemed to happen so quickly and without warning.
A moment of comfort quickly turned into something more.
When had she decided she wanted him before her brain knew it?
A small inner voice told her. She knew exactly when.
She tested the water before disrobing and stepped under the stream of warm water.
That first night on the tarmac when he’d taken her hand and helped her board the plane after lifting her suitcases like paper bags.
She soaped her loofah.
The sensation of being enveloped in his arms… heaven. She’d never, ever, felt so secure as she had in that moment. Like the world outside of their little impulsive sphere didn’t matter.
God, that kiss—had almost made her feral.
The memory of his growl, low and deep, reverberating through her, igniting every erogenous zone in her body.
She slid her soapy hands over her skin, reveling in the cascade of warm water, imagining Magnus’ lips following the trail of water over her taut nipples.
This wasn’t helping to calm her nerves.
Her fingers found her core, gasping as they brushed over her sensitive, throbbing nub.
She needed the release that hadn’t found its natural end last night. It had only grown. Her fingers worked to find it.
Magnus .
The gentle rasp of his silky beard against her skin, his soft lips and the sweep of his tongue on hers.
She gasped and moaned, pulsing around her fingers, body finally sagging under the cleansing water.
She drew a deep, shuddering breath, opened her eyes and stared at the tiles until they focused again and finished her shower.
There was work to do, and she couldn’t afford to be distracted.
M agnus stood next to Aksel’s inert body. The medical equipment monitoring his vitals assured him he was still alive.
Kane stood by the window, glaring at her phone, furiously tending to emails while they waited.
Magnus glanced at his watch and, like magic, Ana appeared in the open doorway.
She paused, gave him a curt nod, and glanced in Kane’s direction, who waved in acknowledgment, then approached the bed.
With Aksel’s bed between them, Magnus assessed Ana’s expression.
She focused on Aksel, her demeanor serious and professional.
As though last night had never happened.
Neither said anything until Kane approached, dropping her phone into her jacket pocket. “Are you ready?” she asked Ana.
“There’s never any guarantee with this,” she warned.
“I know. I’m also aware that you’ve already given a lot over the last few days. But we need this.”
Ana’s gaze swept Magnus’ face before turning back to Aksel.
“Okay.” She pulled her phone from her pocket, set it to record, and drew a deep breath. “What do you want me to focus on?”
“The sigil,” Kane said.
“How he ended up on that ship.” Magnus answered at the same time without looking at Kane.
“They’re probably connected, right?” she murmured as she turned her focus away from the other occupants of the room and trained her energy on Aksel, then opened her senses.
For a long time, she stood beside the man, seeking to connect with his energy.
“His signature is still weak. All I can detect from him is that he vibrates on the same level as Magnus. That’s how I knew he was a shifter, and what kind.
” She frowned. “He didn’t draw me to him.
It must have been something else that led me to find him.
He’s not reaching out—like he’s locked inside. ”
“The sigil,” Kane repeated.
Ana set the phone on a level spot on the mattress and extracted her Gran’s garnet rosary from her pocket. She wrapped the beads around her left wrist and gripped the crucifix between her thumb and forefinger.
Ana held her right hand over Aksel’s bare forearm and planted her feet.
Balance. Focus. Feel.
Her fingers hovered over the fine red hairs of his freckled arm a moment before descending the last few inches to rest on his cool flesh.
A wave of frigid water washed over her, stealing her breath away, followed by flashes of a white barren landscape, the face of a beautiful blond woman, and then the sensation of fists connecting with flesh and bone before the pain of impact on her face, and gut.
It all hit her in a matter of seconds, leaving her gasping and doubled over.
“Ana!” Magnus’ voice pulled her from the haze of pain and suffocation.
Her hand snapped open, releasing Aksel’s arm.
She dragged a hard, gasping breath into her lungs. “I’m okay,” she croaked, struggling for more air before describing what she saw.
Her gaze flicked over Aksel’s still inert form, curling her right hand into a tight fist. “It doesn’t mean anything. You can guess all of that just by looking at him.”
“Try again.”
“Kane, just give her a minute. She’s already exhausted from the last few days,” Magnus growled.
Kane turned to him, brow raised. “I am well aware, Agent Bjornson.” To Ana, she said, “Agent Ortega, when you’re ready to resume your work, place your palm over the sigil.”
Ana warily looked from Magnus to Kane to Aksel’s pale, bruised face.
Maeda had warned her against direct contact with such things during their training sessions.
After that first reading, she wasn’t sure she was ready to touch the sigil. It could do anything to her.
Lifting her left hand, she pressed her lips to Gran’s silver crucifix, whispering a prayer as she repositioned her stance next to the bed.
She ignored Magnus and Kane, focusing all her attention on Aksel’s face.
This was about him . A victim, like all the others, she hoped to God would be a survivor, unlike so many of those they couldn’t reach.
Flexing the fingers of her right hand, she pressed her palm to the black ink sigil at the base of Aksel’s throat and closed her fingers in a firm grasp.
This time, it was a wave of suffocating black ink that washed over her, rather than frigid water, forcing her to her knees.
Still, she didn’t let go.
Her grip on Aksel was her lifeline to reality.
She couldn’t let go.