Page 12

Chapter twelve

Raegan

A portal appears at the foot of the stairs, blocking the one and only exit.

GE agents run out of it, like wasps from their hive, immediately going on the offensive and grabbing people.

I swing my gaze across the room to Aiden on instinct.

Our eyes connect for a solid beat before all hell breaks loose and something knocks our table over.

Jackson catches it, aims, and then tosses it at an agent.

I jump from the stool and knock it into the corner out of my way.

The gifted people here aren’t afraid of fighting with their gifts, and they know how to use them.

They fight back, gifts slinging through the air and hitting both friend and foe.

Calling on my gift, I fist my hands and search through the crowd for anyone I can grab.

I can’t send my gift through the floor without risking everyone else, which means I’m restricted to only the agents I can touch.

But even then, people are shoving into one another or being thrown about.

Can I take the risk of using it at all?

A Pits fighter falls into me, and I rush to release my gift and catch them, helping them upright again.

Nope. No gift.

I grab the knife from my boot instead.

Time to put Kell’s training to use with close combat fighting.

I dive into the fray, seeking out anyone with the GE logo.

One of them swings a fist at me, and I dodge to the side, flipping the knife to my left hand and slashing his arm.

The agent yells, grabbing the wound, and I switch my knife back and sink it into his chest to finish him.

The next agent comes at me from the side.

I pivot, ducking down and then leaping at him from below with the knife.

His blood hits my face, a warm and wet feeling that I brush aside.

A shoe squeaks behind me, and I spin in time to see a hand reaching toward me before the agent’s forearm is cleaved from his body.

His head follows, and the agent drops to the floor in a thud, revealing Aiden behind him retracting his whip sword.

That’s when I realize the area around me is clear when I thought I’d run into the crowd.

Dane grabs an agent attacking a Pits fighter, shutting his gift down and then punching him in the jaw for a quick lights-out.

Something bright catches my eye, and I turn to find Kellan ripping through agents, the golden scales covering the backs of his arms and reflecting even the dim lighting from above.

And in front of me, Jackson.

Most of the Pits fighters are now standing along the walls, watching him with fear as he decimates the remaining agents.

His hood fell at some point, revealing his messy black hair and wicked smile as he effectively eliminates groups of agents at a time.

Blood streaks his face, and I wonder how much is on his clothes that we can’t see.

He looks like the God of Death, exacting his brutal vengeance on these agents who never had a chance.

The last one falls.

Silence fills the room as Jackson lands at my side.

He looks at me, and my breath hitches.

He’s covered in blood and panting for air, but it’s the look in his eyes that captures my full attention.

They shine with bloodlust. With the need to take more.

Kill more.

The darkness emanating from him is a tangible feeling that evokes a sense of dread to be close to it—fear to snake down your spine.

His gaze darts to the people along the wall behind me.

I palm the side of his face to draw his attention back to me.

“Jack.”

His chest works double-time with his heavy breathing, and I can feel the fine tremble running through his body where my hand touches him.

“Look at me,” I order, soft but firm.

There’s a second where I worry he won’t listen, a heartbeat that I’m afraid he’ll act on the murderous impulses driving him.

But then his dark blue gaze lands on me, and its weight is staggering.

My heart pounds relentlessly, my blood on fire.

“It’s over.”

I wait for him to react, to show in some way that he heard me and understands what I’m telling him.

There’s no one left to kill.

We’re safe.

Jackson takes my wrist, his thumb pressing against my pulse.

Finally, he takes a slow breath, closes his eyes, and releases it.

When his eyes open again, they’re calmer, if only a little.

But I’ll take it.

“Send them back through the portal,” Aiden says from my other side.

I didn’t even notice when he’d gotten so close.

“It’ll save us the clean-up effort and show GE to think twice before trying this again.”

Jack nods.

He pulls my hand away from his face and looks over the mess we’ve made.

He probably took out a majority of the agents, but it wasn’t all him or us.

The fighters here stood their ground.

They may have hesitated to take the killing blow, but I don’t blame them for it.

It’s still a huge improvement from most of the Guild members who are still learning how to fight.

We need these fighters, and they need us.

The agents are sent through the portal a few at a time, and after the last one disappears, the portal closes.

I’d debated going through it to see if we could take the fight to them with this group, but we aren’t ready.

There must have been some setting on it that would close it automatically when all the agents returned, or else someone was waiting on the other side to do it.

Regardless, the stairs have become accessible again, and some of the fighters here take to them immediately.

“I guess that didn’t convince them that the threat is real,” Dane mutters beside me.

“Knowing it’s real doesn’t mean they’re prepared to fight. Some people may need time to come to terms with it. And others, they may not be fighters beyond the cage,” Aiden reasons.

More people file out of the room, and I hope he’s right.

I hope a little bit of time is all they need to accept what’s coming and to make the choice to fight with us.

“Are we going to see that blond guy again? The one you almost fucked?” Kellan drawls, his blue-green eyes glittering with mirth while his teeth are bared in a sharp grin.

He knows exactly what he’s done, stirring this shit up with the others right before we walk into Hype to warn them about GE’s recent activity.

After last night’s…event…

at the Pits, we returned to the Loft to catch up on much-needed food and sleep.

Anyone from the Pits who agrees to join us will show up in the next couple of days with their things, which sounds like a logistical nightmare to me, but Aiden assures me that Cibrina has it all under control.

When I worried about her workload, he admitted that he’d already told her to hire two assistants to help her with all of her tasks.

He'd also asked me to try to find out from her what else she’d like as a thank you for everything.

Between her and Cassandra, I feel a girl’s night coming up.

If only I knew how to plan one of those or what to do.

As always, my thoughts turn to Portia, wondering how she’s doing and when I’ll see her again.

Aiden clears his throat, and I blink from my thoughts to find the guys watching me intently, the mood ominous. “Well?” he prompts, and it feels like I’ve been caught daydreaming in class.

“Uh, what was the question again?”

His lips turn down disapprovingly. For not listening, or is it about the question? “We were discussing the guy you either had sex with or almost did.”

The guy…Oh. Kellan’s inflammatory statement about Ethan.

I roll my eyes and catch Aiden’s hand twitching at his side. “First off, I never slept with him. But if I had, it was before I was with any of you, so it wouldn’t have mattered.” The threatening mood doesn’t improve, and I sigh. “You know what? I think I’ll be fine taking this on my own. You guys can guard outside the door, and I’ll come out when I’m done.”

“Out of the question.”

“No fucking way.”

“No.”

“In your dreams, beautiful.”

I put my hand on the doorknob, blocking it to make sure they don’t try barging in first. “Let me do the talking, at least.”

Aiden puts his hand on mine, his body a deep inhale away from pressing me against the door. “What do you think we’re going to say? Are you afraid we’ll embarrass you?” he croons, his velvety voice wrapping around me while all I can smell and taste is cinnamon.

Everything about this man is seductive, reeling me in and molding me to putty. His lips curve to a wicked smirk, my only warning, and he opens the door. I fall back, hitting the door that he stops short while his smirk grows.

Kellan laughs as I right myself. After shooting a glare at Aiden, I send it Kellan’s way, too, with the added gift of my middle finger.

He winks back.

I’ll get them both .

Pushing the door the rest of the way open, I stride toward the bar where I’m most likely to find Ethan. He looks up from where he’s mopping the floor, his smile lighting up his face when he sees me. Then he notices the others, and it falls slightly. It’s still there, still polite, but not as warm as it had been for me.

Probably because of Kellan’s and Dane’s attitudes the last time we were here.

I offer him a genuine smile, hoping to keep his attention away from them. I can pass along this message on my own to avoid any…unpleasant remarks the others might share with him. None of their attitude is his fault; it’s mine. I’d rather keep the conversation we had outside between us for my own sake as well as Ethan’s.

“Hi,” I greet a bit awkwardly. Here I am, showing up again with an entourage that has doubled in size. I can only imagine what Ethan’s thinking. “Sorry to show up without notice, but I need to talk to you about something. It’s important.”

He pulls his gaze from the others, his warm smile returning when he focuses back on me. “Yeah, of course. Do you want to go sit?” He motions to the booths in the back, then reaches for me.

I don’t know how I know that Jackson’s acted—call it instinct, intuition, whatever—but I see the knife out of the corner of my eye flying toward Ethan’s extended hand, and I knock his hand aside right before it hits its mark. The knife strikes the floor with a thunk , burying halfway deep.

“What the—” Ethan starts, turning to look where it came from.

Aiden’s frowning while Kellan and Dane smirk unapologetically.

“Excuse me.” I turn and storm up to Jackson, grabbing his hand and dragging him to the back hallway until we’re in Elias’s office. It’s the only office I know, and he’s not here, so hopefully he won’t mind.

Closing the door behind us, I whirl on Jack. “What was that?! That wasn’t even a warning shot. You were actually going to hit him. For what? For touching me? He’s a friend , Jack. We don’t stab friends.”

Jackson smiles, but it’s cold and sharp as ice. The bloodlust of last night is still there, lurking in the shadows of his eyes and cruelty in his smile. I’d held him back, but how long had I expected that to last? “I don’t do warnings anymore.” He steps closer, and I step back. The violent maelstrom of repressed energy falls off him in waves. My heart flutters wildly in my chest as he closes in on me. “People learn faster this way.”

Another step.

My back hits the door.

His hands follow, slapping the door either side of me and caging me in. He lowers his face to my ear, his breath heating my neck and sending a thrill of danger through me. “Hold my leash, little one. Hold it tight,” he warns softly, his voice coated in darkness. “There is no more patience, no more wait and see when it comes to you. I’m one breath away from lighting the world on fire. I don’t need it. Everyone can burn if it means you’ll be safe.”

His words heat my blood, lighting a fire in me. I breathe in the cooler air around us, hoping to stay level-headed even as his monster calls to mine. “That’d be a dull world, with no one and nothing else in it,” I tease on a low murmur .

“Not for me. You’re all I want. All I need. Let them burn.”

“Jack,” I chastise on an exhale as if he’s stolen the oxygen from my lungs.

I can feel the violence buzzing in him, vibrating beneath his skin and seeking an outlet. He’d lost himself in a killing frenzy last night, but there’s more to it than that. He’s been off since I woke up in the hospital; something not quite right about his silence. Something dark raging in the depths of his stare.

It could be any number of things, now that I think about it. My father getting the better of us by infiltrating the bunker. Him kidnapping and then hurting Dane and me. Gordon dying before I could get my retribution.

Last night probably opened the door to that rage, giving himself a taste of what he wanted without fully satiating that desire.

Now, it feels like something as small as a sneeze would unleash him on the world.

“Hold my leash.”

I push him back enough that he raises his head to look at me, trapping me in his stare. His eyes are such a deep blue. Dark and dangerous like the unexplored depths of the ocean, dragging you down if you don’t keep swimming for your life.

I reach for one of his hands, and without hesitation, he gives it to me, allowing me to guide it down my front. Down, down. Touching my abdomen and following the skin further beneath my clothes, down to my core. His fingers twitch, bumping against my cunt as I withdraw my own hand to shift my clothes and widen my legs to grant him more access .

He slides a finger in, then two when he feels how wet I am already. I groan when they sink deeper, clutching at his arm to both encourage him more and for my own sake. Our eyes stay locked, and it seems like he’s hardly breathing until the moan bursts from my lips. Only then does he draw a visible, shaky breath, and it feels like I’ve made the first step to sating the monster in him.

I wrap my hand around his nape, drawing him closer until our foreheads press together and our noses touch. The air between us thickens. His fingers push in and out, stroking my inner walls with measured intensity that has me desperate for more. My hips jerk, thrusting against him to seek that friction as I cling to his neck and arm. Stroke. Stroke. Faster. Faster. More. More.

“Hold my leash.”

Wait!

I snatch his hand, halting him before I find my release. I’m gasping for air, my body on absolute fire , but I move his hand to his lips in an unspoken request. Jackson takes his fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean with his eyes on mine, and my thighs clench.

Yes.

After shoving his hood back, I pull his face to mine, crashing our lips together. I swallow his groan, the taste of me that he’d savored like his favorite flavor. I kiss him without fear of what he might do but with unbridled desire for that dark part of him that does it all for me. Who willingly does whatever necessary for my sake. I want him, all of him.

I push away from him abruptly, stepping around him to back further into the room, my eyes returning to his as I do. His lips are swollen and wet, his eyes shimmering with obsession as they watch me retreat in slow, taunting movements. With each step, I lose an article of clothing.

My pants.

Shirt.

Socks.

Bra.

I strip my underwear last, dragging it down my legs in slow motion as I had with the others. A wicked smile stretches my lips as I continue walking backward around the desk to Elias’s chair. If Jackson blinks at all, I miss it, his stare so intense that I feel an almost high from the attention.

The chair is wide and high-backed, stuffed patches on the arms for comfort and smooth fabric over a cushion that I sink into a bit as I sit on it. Naked. I throw a leg over one chair arm, spreading myself and then lifting my chin before I speak. “Kneel.” My voice is low, but the command is unmistakable. I don’t need to shout to get his attention; I always have it.

Jackson’s nostrils flare, his hands clenching.

Still, I wait.

He stalks around the desk, stopping at the chair, then kneels before me.

Fuck, this is a heady feeling. Seeing him kneel for me, doing what I command without question…and knowing that I’m the only one he’d do this for. He may be a ruthless killer, a prince of darkness, but he’s mine.

Jack shifts forward on his knees, his face moving between my thighs with a look that leaves me breathless. He drags his nose down the inside of my thigh, his breath tickling the sensitive flesh in his path. He flicks his blue eyes to mine, a slow smile spreading across his lips just before he yanks me to the edge of the chair.

He presses a kiss to the sunken space at the apex of my thigh, his lips skating down and leaving another. His tongue slips between my folds, finding my entrance, and then slides up my center in a devastatingly slow tease.

He groans, his tongue painting lines and circles in a way that has my inner walls trembling and clenching. His tongue slips inside, and my hips convulse.

My head falls back, hitting the chair hard enough to hurt, when a wanton moan scrambles up my throat and seizes my lungs. His tongue is relentless, leaving nothing untouched, no area left wanting. He swipes it between my pussy and clit, rubbing and sliding before moving around my clit, circling, circling. Tighter and tighter. Harder and harder. A finger rings my entrance, putting pressure there without fully breaching it, and I writhe with the desperate need for him to finish it.

“Oh, fuckkk,” I pant, my nails digging into the armrests.

He presses his tongue harder, faster. Moving at a dizzying speed until it feels like my heart might burst from my chest. I thrust my hips against him, chasing the pleasure that’s climbing higher and higher. “Ohhh, yeah. Yeah. Fuckkk. Jack!” His fingers drive into my pussy, and the pleasure hits me so hard that my back bows, and I grab his hair to hold on tight. My orgasm grabs me and throws me over the edge of a cliff, and I free-fall to the ground, shattering to pieces .

Jackson stands, his height making him tower over me, slumped in the chair. He licks his lips clean, then wipes whatever’s left from his chin with the back of his hand.

I shudder at the hungry look in his eyes, his black hair wild from whatever I’d done to it. He paces around the chair, removing his hoodie and shirt as he goes until he’s behind it and out of my periphery.

Click.

The back of the chair drops, and I let out a small scream when I fall with it. It’s so far back that the chair is almost horizontal, and I’m staring up at Jackson’s smirking face. He grabs my ankles, his gift assisting him in turning and flipping me in an instant. Gasping, I land chest-first against the back of the chair, my hips at the edge while my legs dangle over it. My feet kick the air, searching for the floor until Jack splits my legs and presses his cock against my core.

He sinks into me, his hands holding my hips steady while the rest of me scrambles to hold on to something. Anything . I grip the chair arms, but fuckkk. I’m trapped. Stuck partially in the air with no leverage, so all I can do is take whatever he’s giving me without the ability to adjust or move myself.

Once he’s fully seated, Jackson draws back to the tip, then slams back in. I cry out from the impact, my hands tightening as I expect to faceplant with the chair, but his hands on my hips keep me secure. He drives into me again and again, and I can feel the pent-up violence purging from him with every stroke.

I hook my feet around the back of his legs, needing something to support them, and then hang on for dear life .

My clit rubs into the chair, the softness of the fabric feeling rough there, but the dull pain builds to pleasure at the pressure. His unforgiving pace pushes my body to a crescendo, and I release a strangled cry of his name when it peaks, and I fall to ruin.

Jackson keeps going through it all, dragging out my orgasm until, at last, he thrusts one final time and holds himself there. He throws his head back, a pleasured gasp wrenching from his lips as his chest heaves from so much exertion.

He draws back, leaving me for a few seconds while I close my eyes and catch my breath. Then he’s rolling me in his arms, cradling me to his chest. I look up at him, my fingers trailing the side of his face until he looks at me. His expression is relaxed. Calm. The shadows in his gaze aren’t as prominent. They’ll never be gone completely, but he’s back in control.

Jack sits me on the chair after it’s snapped upright and kneels between my legs. He holds his shirt and brings it to the apex of my thighs, and I put my hand on his. “I’ll do it.”

“Let me.”

I hesitate, debating if this is a fight worth starting, then relent and drop my hand. He continues to wipe me down, his efforts slow and gentle. When he’s done, he drops his shirt and helps me dress before pulling his own clothes on. He shoves the used shirt into his hoodie pocket, then looks at me.

There’s no smirk or smile on his face. No hidden secret. Just pure, all-consuming focus that’s concentrated completely on me. Jackson tugs me close, taking my hands and holding them to his chest. “I love you. If you want my heart, I’ll carve it from my chest. Because it wouldn’t beat without you.”

My heart stutters out of rhythm, then burns and aches with emotion I have no idea what to do with. I try to put it into words, hoping it’s enough and that he understands. “I love you too.” More than anything else in the world, I love him and the others. I’d do anything for them, to keep them safe. To keep us together.

Jackson smiles, the dimple piercing his left cheek and giving me butterflies all over again.

I smile back, reveling in this moment.

Someone knocks at the door, and I curse, remembering we’re still at Hype and the others are waiting for us.

“Either wrap it up and come out, or else invite me in,” Kellan shouts from behind the door. “Aiden’s running out of things to talk about to keep Ethan distracted from you two.”

“We’re coming!” I yell, taking Jack’s hand and walking to the door.

“Again?” Kellan teases.

I shove the door open, hoping to smack him in the face with it, but the brute side-steps before my wish comes true. “Ha-ha,” I reply, sarcasm dripping from my tone even though I’m fighting a smile.

We walk back to the bar and nightclub area, and Ethan looks past us as if he can see the office from there. “You know I’m going to have to de-con that entire office now, right?”

Oh, fuck. He’s right. When I brought Jack to Elias’s office, I didn’t think that was going to happen. But what would happen if the clean-freak Elias came back and saw evidence of me and Jack?

Dane clenches his hands and moves toward Ethan, ready to defend me even though I’m clearly the one in the wrong. It’s exactly how he was on the island. Vera and I could do no wrong in his eyes, and he would defend us to his last breath, either by being a complete dick to the other person or by getting in a fistfight.

I jump in front of him before either of those scenarios happens, placing my hands on his chest. “No, he’s right. I don’t know how well you know Elias, but…yeah. It needs to be cleaned.” I turn to face Ethan, keeping my back close to Dane and my hand on his behind me so I know he won’t jump down Ethan’s throat. “I’m sorry. It was…necessary.”

Ethan’s stare slides to Jackson. “…Right.”

“I’d offer to do the cleaning myself, but I don’t think I’d do it well enough.”

“We’ll pay for it, whatever it costs,” Aiden says, his eyes on me. “Just send the bill to the Tower.”

Thank fuck for Aiden. His offer eases the knot of guilt in my chest that I’m not used to feeling. If it were nearly anyone else, I wouldn’t have cared so much. But Elias?

Ethan nods to Aiden, then focuses back on me. “Thanks. I’ll uh…pass along the message to the others and let you know if there’s any interest.”

Kellan crosses his arms and cocks his head, checking Ethan out from head to toe. “You a fighter, Ethan?”

“I can fight,” he answers, almost defensively.

“What’s your gift?” Kell asks casually.

Ethan hesitates, and I remember Portia telling me about it.

“Portia said you’re a glow bug?” I guess, not quite sure if her description was accurate.

He sighs and chuckles, shaking his head. “Of course, she did. It’s more than that.”

“What do you do?” Kellan presses.

“I can emit light from my body.”

I bite my lips, drawing them in to keep from smiling or saying anything, but Dane, of course, speaks up. “So, you…glow.”

Ethan sighs again. “It’s hard to explain. But I’ve had someone tell me it’s a brilliant gift.”

Dane snorts. Kellan laughs and says, “Marry them.”

Ethan frowns, his brows pinching in annoyance, and thankfully, Aiden cuts in to save the day.

“You have my number now, so let me know if anyone here has any interest, and we can safely escort them to the Tower.”

“Yeah. Will do,” Ethan replies before looking at me. “It was good to see you again.” I smile, and he looks ready to move closer, his body leaning forward when his gaze slants to Jackson, and he plants his heels. “Maybe I’ll see you around again soon?”

Dane’s hand squeezes mine behind my back, and I give him one in return before answering Ethan. “Yeah. As soon as this GE business is over with, I plan to be back here all the time.”

That was apparently the wrong answer because the guys all practically snap their necks to look at me with varying levels of broodiness, but I ignore them and wave to Ethan before heading to the door.