She hummed as she cleaned up the kitchen, and a coziness filled the room. Finally, she crossed near him. “Family is family, Daire.” Her words held a hint of warning and a thread of sadness.
His instincts started to hum. He tipped back the cognac and set the drink aside. “What are you up to, Cee Cee?”
She smiled, the sight slightly lopsided. “Nothing for once. Just that I’m glad we’re working together. I’ll send you the file I have on Rudger. I hope it helps.” She sauntered over and poured him another glass of the cognac. “I should’ve given you the name earlier.”
His ears pricked. Numbness settled in his belly and spread out to be quickly quashed. Temper swirled through him and then blew out in heat. “Son of a bitch.” He jumped to his feet and grabbed her forearms. “You drugged me. Again.”
She winced. “I know. I’m sorry.”
His knees wobbled.
She shoved him back into his chair. “I really like you, Daire. I do.”
He tilted his head to the side, noting the rapid pulse in her neck. “What the fuck?”
She sighed. “I just put a little in the drink, I promise. You won’t be out for long.”
He wouldn’t be out at all, actually. “Where the hell was it?” he ground out, trying to focus as his vision fuzzed.
“I’ve had a vial in my boot. Figured I might need it.”
His hold loosened on her arms.
She set his hands down and patted his knuckles. “Like I said, I’m so sorry. But there’s no reason for you to accompany me on the mission since you now have Rudger’s name and should probably run him down. Believe me, you don’t want the conflict of interest.”
What conflict of interest? Daire frowned as he sent antibodies to the poison in his gut. None of this was making sense, but he needed his faculties to cure himself before she got outside. She turned and quickly made her way to the door and opened it. Rain splashed inside.
He’d been so ensconced in the sense of comfy domestication, he hadn’t even noticed it had started raining. Man, a woman cooked for him once, and he turned into a moron.
He shoved himself to his feet. “Felicity.”
She slowly turned around, her eyes widening. “Wh-what?”
“You should probably know something about witches,” he said, his legs strengthening.
Her chin lifted and her hand went to the doorknob. “What is that?”
“We can create antibodies for a drug if we survive the first injection,” he said, gauging the distance between them and her ability to kick him in the face. “It’s a gift we’re hoping will be useful in dealing with Apollo.”
She swallowed. “Well, crap.” Quick as any cougar, she pivoted and ran into the rain.
He smiled, his muscles bunching. Oh, the race was on. He cleared the front porch without hitting one step and landed in the mud, his boots spraying. Rain mashed down, coating his face. A blur of white crossed his vision toward the river, and he turned to follow. With that blond hair, she’d be easy to spot. His blood thrummed in his veins, and his breath evened out.
The rain carried her scent toward him—woman and hyacinth. Even through the storm, he could smell her clean scent tinged with both fear and arousal. He loped into a jog, winding around trees, avoiding stumps. Every inch of the property was familiar to him, and he wasn’t surprised when she found the barely there trail to the river’s edge.
He reached the bank in time to see her bounding across the massive rocks he’d placed in the middle. The rain matted her hair down her back, but she fought against the wind and reached the rocky shore, as graceful as any doe. Her soaked clothing clung to her, showing every inch of her spectacular body.
The drug tried to cling to his system, and he burned it away, temper alighting anew. She had drugged him after making him such a nice dinner and getting him to relax. The idea that she still didn’t trust him bunched his fingers into a fist, and he ducked his head as he ran for the rocks and made it across the rushing river in record time.
Small footprints showed her way, but he didn’t need to glance down, so strong was her scent. Or maybe he just recognized her smell, because he knew exactly which way to run.
Lightning flashed across the dark sky. Unlike his brother Kellach, Daire loved the rain of Seattle and enjoyed the storms. It pounded in his blood, spurring him on.
Ahead of him, she slipped and scrambled to her feet, her arms flailing. Tree limbs fell down and she ducked to avoid them.
Enough. The storm had turned dangerous, and it was time to catch her. So he turned to the north and backtracked along the trail, ready for the moment when she barreled into his arms.
She bounced back, her eyes wide, her cheeks flushed.
He bent his head, absolute on his task this time. “Why did you drug me yet again?”
She gulped in air, her pale hand wiping rain from her face. “I don’t need help with the bank robberies.”
“Try again.” He crossed his arms, raising his voice above the storm.
She settled her stance. The wind whipped around, shoving her hair, no match for the wildness in her eyes. “No.”
He wanted that wildness, needed it set free and alive around him. Nothing in him, not one inch, wanted to tame that. He just wanted to ride it, be a part of it. “Why?” he asked.
Drops of rain danced on her full eyelashes. “I don’t like you.”
He grinned. Wild as hell and a shitty liar. “Aye, you do. Tell me the truth, Felicity.”
Her slight turn of foot gave away her intention, so when she turned to run, he smoothly stepped in front of her. She smacked into him again, and this time, he didn’t let her go.
Grabbing her biceps, he lifted her a foot off the ground and set her against a massive pine tree. The brand on his hand pulsed in angry pain. His brother had mated his cop out in the forest by the cabin, and Daire kept in mind the warning. He wouldn’t mate Felicity by accident, and he’d have to be careful. But the woman had pushed him enough.
He planted his mouth over hers and swept his tongue inside, taking what he wanted. Sensations bombarded him, stronger than before. Hunger. Need. Craving. Possessiveness. Protectiveness. He consumed her, feasting at her mouth like a starving man.
She returned the kiss, nipping and licking, her tongue playing with his.
The flavor of wine and woman exploded on his taste buds and rocketed through his body. He shoved his groin between her legs, rubbing against her. She gasped and reached down to unzip his jeans, sliding her hand inside.
Her smooth skin almost sent him over the edge. He groaned into her mouth. She stroked him and he growled, reaching down to shove her pants to the ground. When freed, she immediately clasped his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his waist.
He kicked out of his jeans, needing more than anything else in the world to be inside her. He grabbed her nape and her butt, plunging inside her with one ferocious thrust. She arched against him, a hoarse cry of need echoing from her throat. Her nails bit into his skin, and the sharp pain almost snapped his control. He was right where he wanted to be in the world, and suddenly, the fog cleared from his brain. This woman was meant to be his, and it was time she leveled with him.
Drawing on control he hadn’t thought he’d have, he held her tight and stopped moving. “Now you talk, Felicity.”
Chapter 16
Felicity blinked, her body gyrating with a hunger so great it hurt. The tree bracketed her back, surrounding her with the scent of pine. Rain dripped down around them, plopping on the wet earth. “What?” she breathed, trying to get Daire to move inside her again.
He leaned down, and his breath heated her face. “Now you tell me why you drugged me yet again. What are you afraid of?”
She shook her head, spraying water. “I’m not afraid. I just don’t want you in the way.” Even as she said the words, she could hear the hollowness in them. “Trust me, Daire. You want to be out of what’s going to happen.” She had to protect him, somehow. “I’m sorry.”
/> He slid out and shoved back in, sending spirals of sparks through her sex. “You’re all logic and wild passion, baby. So the smart thing, the logical thing, would be for you to accept help and allies robbing those banks.” Two more hard thrusts.
Her mouth opened in a silent groan.
“I’ve promised not to alert your kids, and yet, you still try to drug me.” His hand on her butt tightened and then released her. Slowly, keeping her attention, he lifted his palm to show the Celtic knot.
She gasped. The branding mark? The witch branding mark? Her core convulsed around his shaft at the very thought of mating the sexy enforcer.
He lifted an eyebrow. “You like that idea.”
Her body did, anyway. “Now isn’t the time for a discussion, Daire,” she panted out, trying to rub against him.
The hand at her nape clenched, and she winced. “Listen, Cee Cee. Stop moving, or I’ll plant my hand on your ass to keep you still.”
If he did, and if he kept thrusting, then he’d only have to bite her to mate her. She stopped moving. “Talk later,” she ground out.
“Oh no, baby,” he murmured, his nostrils flaring and making him look like a deadly predator on the hunt. “You’re going to tell me right now why you’re leaving me and going off alone to danger. It doesn’t make sense.”
She was leaving him because if she gave him the truth, it would force him to choose between her and his family, and he wouldn’t choose her. Which she totally understood. “This is just sex.”
“That’s it.” He lifted his hand, and green fire danced across his palm.
She sucked in her stomach, and mini-orgasms rippled through her body. “No.”
“Oh yeah.” He lowered his palm across her chest, and her shirt caught on fire, burning away to embers without harming her. Then he scraped the fire across her breasts, and fire bit into her with an erotic burn.
She cried out and arched against him, needing just a little more friction. Her nipples turned a bright pink and harder than diamonds, their sharp points jutting out. He tweaked one, and she bent into his fingers, the pleasurable pain fuzzing her brain. He turned to the other nipple, tweaking and pinching, finally caressing fire across it.
She tried to rub against him to find relief, but he pressed her too tightly against the tree.
His lips dropped to her ear. “Wanna tell me now?”
Everything in her wanted to give him what he wanted so she could find relief. “No,” she almost sobbed.
“Fair enough.”
Fire crackled near her face, and she jumped. He warmed down her side, along each rib, and then partially slid out of her.
Panic careened through her. “No.”
“Aye.” He reached between them.
So she did the only thing she could. She grabbed on to his hair and thrust her sex right into the fire. Sparks flew, and she detonated. The orgasm shook her with powerful jerks, shooting so much edgy heat through her she could only close her eyes and feel. Her core rippled around his cock, holding with a fierce grip.
He groaned and started to hammer into her, clasping her tight, his body rocking hers. Finally, with a moan, he stilled and dropped his head to her neck.
She slid her arms around his shoulders, holding on for dear life. Her breath panted out against his rapidly moving chest. Slowly, reality returned. Rain dripped down and across her face. She opened her eyes and blinked. The chilly wind caressed her wet shoulders, and bark from the tree scratched her butt.
Daire leaned back, his eyes the dark green of a mountain stream. Without a word, he released her to slide down him, and waited until she’d regained her footing before jerking up her yoga pants and his jeans. His gaze intent, he drew his shirt over his head and then tugged it over her.
She shivered in the wet cotton. Vulnerability and uncertainty stilled any words in her throat.
He ducked his head, and suddenly her stomach hit his shoulder. She coughed out, upside down over the enforcer. “Hey.”
Turning on one thick boot, he jogged back through the forest.
She shook her head, trying not to get dizzy. “Daire? Put me down.” The blood rushed to her face, and she reached out to smack his butt.
He planted one hand gently on her rear end, flattening his fingers in clear warning before turning to nip at her thigh.
She stilled, her head slightly swinging. Water splashed as he gracefully jumped from one rock to the next while crossing the rushing river. The man carried her as if she didn’t weigh a damn thing. She thought of kicking him a good one in the stomach, but if he fell, so would she. Not that he’d fall. Even so, the hand heating her ass by a simple touch remained in place, and those teeth were too close to her vulnerable flesh.
They reached the cabin and crossed inside. Instant warmth soothed over her, and she fought a soft moan. He stalked into a bedroom with a red and silver rug on the floor. The quilted bedspread had matching colors in a comfy country look. The room tilted. He set her down on her feet, holding her forearms until she’d regained her balance.
Quick movements on his part had clothing tossed out of drawers. She scrambled out of the wet clothes and into a dry yoga outfit with dark pants and a light blue shirt. Yet more clothing borrowed from Simone Brightston. The warmth eased Felicity’s shivers, and she rubbed her arms to banish the goose bumps.
Finally, he faced her, his body planted directly between her and the door. “Why did you drug me, Felicity?”
Ivan Bychkov paced his office, staring out at the Seattle skyline in a downtown commercial building. The floor was oak, the walls textured, and the furnishings modern. “That bitch.” Fire roared through him, and for once, he wished he could throw flames like a witch. A bar was set against the far wall, and he eyed the Scotch in the crystal decanter.
Rudger chuckled, seated on a tight leather guest chair across the sprawling desk. “She is innovative.”
Ivan spun around to face his partner, his shoes squeaking on the wooden floor. “Innovative? The sociopath had twelve of our mines blown up. Twelve.” At least four of them would never be operational again. “When we created our partnership, I figured you’d do a better job with security.”
Rudger’s fingers tapped against the arm of his chair. “My brother is checking out the security right now, and since Sjenerøse mine is still operational, we’re putting additional forces there. It has enough planekite to suit our immediate needs.”
What had he been thinking, getting involved with witches? Ivan shook his head. “This was a mistake.”
Rudger shrugged. “Not my problem.”
Ivan lowered his chin and studied the witch. Black hair, blue eyes, about four centuries old, Rudger had provided needed capital in exchange for ownership in the planekite mines. “I don’t think you’re quite understanding the issue here,” Ivan ground out, fighting the incredible urge to melt the asshole’s brain in his head. “All of my mines except for Sjenerøse were attacked, including the coal and diamond mines. My people are going to be furious.” Not only were the mines affected, but several of his stock portfolios were facing attack. Felicity had used the last thirty years well, preparing to take him down.
Rudger shrugged. “Again, not my problem. Besides, we have enough cash and gold stashed around the world, don’t we?”
Yes, but only half of that belonged to Ivan and his people. “We had an agreement that I wouldn’t ask why you’re creating a drug that will harm your own people.” Damn witches never made sense.
“Yes, so stick with it.” Rudger stood.
Ivan smiled. “I’ve kept to our agreement and haven’t asked.”
The witch stilled, his eyes flashing a lighter blue. “Good.”
“Yet my investigators have turned up a bit of information on you and why you’re after the Coven Nine.” The sizzle of upcoming negotiation straightened Ivan’s spine, which made him tower at least five inches over the six-foot-one witch.
“Is that a fact?” Rudger drawled.
“Yes.” Ivan gat
hered energy in case he needed to demolish the man, although that would just bring Rudger’s twin brother running, and that guy was psycho. “Turns out your mother was kicked off the Council of the Coven Nine . . . decades ago. In fact, I believe her ass was kicked in battle by one of the Dunnes.” Turned out Moira Dunne, cousin to the male enforcers, had taken out Grace Sadler in order to place her sister on the council. Witches always went for family.
Fire crackled down Rudger’s arms. “Believe me. That fact is only one of several that went into our decision.”
“Ah, but what’s your end game?” Ivan braced for a ball of fire, just in case. He really did want to know.
“None of your business.” Rudger shook his head. “Watch yourself, demon.”
Ivan clasped his hands at his back. “I’m thinking this would be a good time to renegotiate ownership of real property as well as intangible. I mean, if you want me to stop the e-mail headed to the Coven Nine right now.”
The fireplace came out of nowhere, hit his chest, and threw him into the wall. Pain radiated and burrowed deep. Sucking in air, he ducked his head and aimed devastating images and pain at Rudger’s frontal cortex. The impact jerked the witch’s head back. He hissed and tried to gather more fire in his palms.
Ivan narrowed his gaze and pinpointed raw agony to the center of Rudger’s brain with the finesse of any surgeon with a blade. The witch cried out, slapping both hands to his temples.
Almost casually keeping up the assault, Ivan reached into his drawer for a dagger. Ancient and jeweled with diamonds from his mines, the blade had been sharpened to a deadly glint. He crossed around the desk, his body shaking from the fight, and reached his enemy.
“M-my brother will kill you,” Rudger gasped out.
Ivan smiled. He was a two-century-old demon, with immeasurable power. How had the witches ever even thought they were on the same footing? Immature idiots. “Your brother is the least of my worries.” He had enforcers and a pissed-off demon on his ass, not to mention his angry people. They were a greedy bunch of bastards, and the fact that he’d lost billions of their money was setting rumblings through the group. “I’ll take care of him when he shows up.” Or he’d have his right-hand man, Vadim, take care of Phillipe. Vadim hadn’t killed anybody in at least a month, and that made him edgy.