Page 9 of Polestar (The Global Paranormal Security Agency #3)

NINE

A na glanced at the text that flashed across her phone, which lay on her bed while she dried her hair and sighed. ‘Meet in my office asap.’

She’d only had enough time to shower after the long, long day and what seemed to be an even longer meeting.

I can’t believe Kane even suggested I pretend to be engaged to Magnus. What a ridiculous ruse.

And yet, nothing about Kane’s demeanor hinted at any type of humor.

She glanced at the phone again.

Kane wouldn’t call them back to her office if it weren’t important.

Ana scrubbed her hair as quickly as she could with the towel that encircled her head, then threw on her silk nightgown and reached for her robe.

Shoving her bare feet into her fuzzy slippers, she belted her robe and left her room as Raya was leaving hers, still fully dressed, her brows deeply furrowed with concern.

She gave Ana a cursory once over and smirked. “Cute slippers.”

“Any idea what this is about?”

Raya shrugged. Her concerned expression returned, “Nope, but we should hurry.”

At that, they jogged the rest of the way.

They arrived at Kane’s open office door, where she was still at her desk. Connor sat in the leather chair that Ana had occupied earlier in the evening while Magnus stood by Kane’s desk with a haunted expression.

Ana’s stomach churned.

What could have happened in the last twenty minutes that was so urgent?

Aksel Matochkin was stable and in the care of GPSA medics. Had he taken a turn?

Kane gestured for them to sit.

“What’s happened?” Raya said as she took the other chair.

Ana perched on the same antique chair from the first day, arms crossed.

“Aksel is marked.”

“Shit,” Connor spat.

“Oh no,” Raya whispered, turning wide eyes on Magnus. “Oh no.”

“Marked? What do you mean?” Ana demanded after seeing their reactions.

“Magnus, would you show Ana the picture?” Kane said.

Magnus withdrew his phone and swiped his screen, producing an image.

Ana rose from her seat and approached to see a human throat with a black ink sigil at its base.

“A tattoo? On his throat?” She looked up at Magnus, who nodded. “What does it mean?”

“It seems to be some kind of hex,” Raya said, her voice full of disgust.

“Magic?” Ana said, incredulous. “But… why?”

“It’s most likely the reason he isn’t healing. It’s keeping him weak.”

“And unconscious?”

“Not by design. He’s unconscious because he was beaten so badly and cannot heal naturally because of the sigil. Medical science is doing its best to support his body where his shifter ability can’t.”

“But I still don’t know what this sigil means. Why would he have it? Is it something to do with the trafficking ring?”

“Yes,” Kane said. “It’s the mark of one of the sector heads that we’re tracking. We’ve only seen it a few times, and it’s never resulted in anything good.”

“What do you mean?” Ana’s hand shot to her chest, fingers tugging on the edges of her robe as her anxiety spiked.

Dark magic is way out of my league.

“It means that unless we can find a way—which we haven’t yet—to break this hex, the only way we can communicate with Aksel is through you.”

All the blood drained from Ana’s face and a chill swept through her like a north front.

“I—I see.” She drew a breath. “And what if I can’t?”

“Then we’re going into clan territory completely blind,” Magnus said.

“L ike hell I’m going into polar bear clan territory!

” Ana squeaked at Kane, eyes wide, still gripping the front of her thin robe across her throat.

She freed a hand to swipe the air in front of her.

“N—No. I agreed to Iceland, for Carson—who’s not even frigging here, by the way!

But the Barents Sea? No. No way.” She turned toward Magnus, jabbing the air in his direction with a pointed finger. “No.”

Then she spun around in her fuzzy slippers and stomped out of the Director’s office, the bottom edges of her robe billowing out behind her.

Burns stared after Ana, mouth gaping. “I’ve never seen her lose her shit like that before. She’s always so damned calm, like an unruffled cat.”

“Seems that cat just got her tail stomped on. Good job, Magnus. Great way to break the new recruit in.”

“Shut up, Connor,” Magnus growled as he followed Ana out—and not sure why he did.

Just to calm her down and make her see reason, he told himself, since Kane had insisted that she was the only agent that could do this mission.

Which he seriously, seriously doubted.

There has to be someone else that can do it. Someone that won’t shrivel at the sight of snow.

Still, Magnus didn’t like to see her so rattled. Especially not after how she’d handled herself for the last couple of days. She’d been so empathetically solid for all of those survivors they’d interviewed. So calm and collected as she led their team through the ship to find his near-dead clansman.

And she hadn’t even been working on these cases nearly as long as he and the others had.

Just before he caught up to her billowing robes, halfway down the hall to their rooms, he admitted to himself he respected her.

Her professionalism and compassion in the face of such hardship.

“Ana.”

“No.” Her index finger jabbed the air as she swung her arm out behind her, but she didn’t slow her pace.

Two more strides and Magnus reached for her arm, trying to slow her without hurting her. “Listen.”

“I. Am not—.” She heaved a deep breath. “Going. To The North . I’m not.” She shook her head, eyes wild as she looked at him, then up and down the hall in case anyone else was coming to force her into the barren frozen wilderness. “Not happening.”

“If you would just listen—.”

“Nope. Nuh-uh. As I said, I was willing to go to Iceland for Carson because he’s like a brother and he’s always had my back.

Thank God , I ended up here instead. And now, what?

You’re going to try to make me go into hostile territory?

I’m not trained for that. It’s so much worse than Iceland. ” She sobbed on the last few words.

“You’re exhausted.”

“You’re demented,” she snapped.

“And you’re being rude again.” Noting the red splotches of color appearing on her cheeks. Just like it did before she passed out in the hangar. He tried to take a softer approach. “Ana, you’ve pushed yourself really hard these last few days. Get some rest and we can talk about this tomorrow.”

She’d handled herself impeccably, and now, at the mention of going to his homeland, she was losing her shit? It was the Iceland incident all over again.

“Magnus, I can’t.”

Something about those three words and the haunted look in her eyes cracked his heart. Her lower lip trembled.

“I told Carson I wasn’t ready. Maeda knows it. This is way over my head.”

Magnus reached for Ana, wrapping his arms around her trembling body, trying to comfort her.

She sagged against him. “If I couldn’t save Antony, how can I save anyone else? And now there’s black magic involved?”

Magnus didn’t answer. He didn’t have one to give, so he just held her. After a moment, her hands slid around his waist, and she held him back.

Closing his eyes, he rested his cheek on the top of her damp hair, inhaling the fragrance of her.

Coconut and vanilla and Ana.

The way she fit in his arms…the way hers felt around him…felt… Right .

He smiled against the top of her head when he felt her thumb stroking his spine.

Ana turned her face, resting her forehead against his chest, and drew a deep breath.

“You always smell so good,” she murmured.

“So do you.” He lifted his head from hers, inhaling her scent again.

Memorizing it, as though he hadn’t already.

She leaned back just enough to look up into his face. Her eyes shimmered in the low light of the hallway they still stood in.

He wished they were in his room, or hers.

She searched his face.

What is she looking for?

His gaze dropped to her plump lips, waiting for her to say what she was thinking, or ask a question.

He hadn’t expected her little pink tongue to dart out, to moisten her lips.

That tiny movement undid Magnus. A growl rumbled through his chest.

Her fingers clutched at his back now as her face tilted up to his descending lips.

Her mouth was ripe and lush, warm and inviting as the entire length of her body pressed to his.

He was suddenly hyper-aware that the only barrier between them was her thin nightgown and robe.

Dear gods, he wanted to take her to bed.

He hardened against the warmth of her belly, and she pressed into him even more.

Her tongue swept his lower lip, drawing him in.

He growled a second time, forcing her back a step to pin her body between his and the ornate wallpaper.

She gasped against his lips as his thigh moved between hers, pressing into her heat, eliciting a moan.

“Magnus,” she gasped.

His name, like that, from her… too much.

His hands moved up to her shoulders, caressing their way up her collar bones to her delicate throat to cradle her face as he kissed her.

His voice was low, almost a whisper of restraint as he spoke, a breath away from her soft lips.

“Ana, sweetheart, if you don’t want to finish this,” he paused, drawing a breath, “then we should part ways here.”

Her sweet breath shuddered against his, her body pliant, her lips parted.

All he had to do was lift the hem of her gown and she’d be his. It was all he had in him to resist the temptation to slide his palm along her thigh, to draw it up around his hip and settle into her heat.

She didn’t move as she considered his words.

His heart pounded in time with his throbbing cock.

He drew a deep breath to clear the lightheadedness, but all it did was embed the scent of the woman locked in indecision before him.

Slowly, she dropped her forehead to his chest as she slid her palms around from his back to his abdomen before she leaned back against the wall.

Releasing her face, Magnus’ hands retraced their path back down to her shoulders. He slid them along the length of her arms till he found her hands.

Taking them in his, giving them a little squeeze before releasing her, he backed a step, pulling her with him as they continued down the hall, the fingers of his right hand still entwined with those of her left until they found her room.

At her door, he lifted her fingertips and brushed his lips across her knuckles before letting go of that last little bit of contact and regaining full control over his body.

She reached for the doorknob, then turned to look at him, about to say something.

His heartbeat quickened.

She settled on, “Good night, Magnus.”

He nodded, “Good night, Ana.” He turned, striding toward his room. He heard her door click shut just before he reached his.