Deep Kiss of Winter (49 page)

Hello, reminder. Escape, the reason she was here. The chitchat needed to end. She leaned down and studied the ID box. “I don't know how to open your cell,” she said. “I've never rewired anything.”

“I'll tell you what to do just as soon as you tell me where the Rakan is.”

“And
I'll
tell
you
just as soon as you tell me that you won't hurt him.”

“Done. I vow it.”

That easily? Why? And could she trust him? She would have to, she supposed.

“Breean is in bed, unable to move.” She squeezed her eyelids closed, trying to block that last, heartbreaking image of him. “I didn't see a lot of his men on my way down here, and I hopefully sent the remaining ones on their way. Whoever stayed, I'll convince I'm Breean and lead you guys outside.” She hoped.

“Macy?” she heard Dallas call from down the hall. Had they played musical cells?

“You're next,” she told him. “Hold tight.”

“So you escaped Stud Muffin.”

Stud Muffin? “Looks like it.”
And all I had to do was shred his neck.
“Now, how do I get through the ID box?”

Dallas laughed that razor-sharp laugh of his. “We shoulda known she'd do it,” he said to Devyn. To Aleaha, he added, “You shouldn't be down here. If you're caught, I'm sure you'll be punished.”

“I won't be caught. Now how do I open this?”

“Don't look at me,” Devyn said, splaying his arms. “I don't know how to disable them.”

“But you said—” She gritted her teeth. Bastard. He'd manipulated her for information.

There was a pause, then a sigh from Dallas. Why so reluctant? Were the situation reversed, she would be shouting orders until the bars were out of the way. Finally, he said, “Remove the lid.” He reached a dark arm through the bars and pointed at the black case.

She had to pound at it to loosen it, but ultimately it slipped free, revealing a multitude of wires. “Which do I cut?”

“Only the red one.”

“You sure?” Devyn asked. “I'd go with blue myself.”

“They're all red!” she snapped. “There's not a single blue one.”

With another sigh, Dallas rested his forehead against the bars. “I hoped they had the cheaper model. All right. Sort through them and try to find the thread that's woven through all of them.”

Thread? She began sifting through the sea of red. “You guys ignored me that first night of captivity. Why?”

“There was a guard pacing the halls,” Devyn said. “We couldn't risk him overhearing.”

Wasn't like she'd asked for detailed escape plans. “You guys know Mia better than I do.” She didn't remove her attention from the wires. All of them seemed to be connected to the rest, no common thread holding them together. “If Breean agrees to help her fight the Schön, will she let him do so?”

Dallas laughed.

Devyn snorted.

“What?” she demanded, finally glancing up. The wires had begun to blur together, anyway. Dallas, she noticed, was peering off to his left and mouthing something. Who was he talking to? She followed the direction of his gaze but didn't see anyone. Perhaps captivity had driven him insane.

He must have sensed her gaze, because he faced her and grinned. “Mia forgives no one, and the Rakans killed several of her men. Men she was charged with protecting.”

“He's not exaggerating. Even I wouldn't bed her, and believe me,” Devyn said, “I've slept with some real bad-asses.”

“Hey, man,” Dallas interrupted with a laugh. “She's like my sister. No talk of bedding her.”

Aleaha suddenly felt like she was back in the forest, the night the Rakans had come. For the most part, Dallas and Devyn hadn't taken that seriously
either, overflowing with jokes. “Well, Mia will lose even more men if she refuses this golden opportunity. And, yes, pun intended. Breean can help us defeat the Schön queen. You saw how quickly he can move. You saw how his men can step into bodies and force them to do what they want.” She turned back to the box. Ugh. Red was now her least favorite color. “But what you probably didn't notice was the scent these men produce. It . . . lures women. Fogs their minds. What if a Rakan could lure the queen into a trap? AIR could be there to pounce, and her blood would never have to be spilled.”

Devyn regarded her intently; she could feel his amber gaze probing the depths of her soul. “Was this Breean's idea? You coming here and talking to us?”

“No. It's mine,” she said, hoping Breean would agree to such a plan. Not that she wanted him to be the one doing the luring. One of his warriors could do it. That Talon guy, maybe. He was kind of cute in a boy scout slash psycho killer way.

“I don't know, Mace. That would involve trusting the Rakans, and well—”

“AIR trusts no one,” she finished for him. Exasperated, she shook her head. “One of his men killed the agents, and that was against Breean's rules. Breean punished him. You remember the guy we heard him castigating that night in the cell, right?” She paused, bit her lip. “I don't want him hurt. He's not predatory. Tell the commander to leave him alone, okay? Please. All Breean wants is a peaceful life for his men, and he
is
willing to aid AIR to find that peace.”

“Tell the commander yourself,” Dallas said.

“I . . . can't.” Right then and there, Aleaha realized she loved Breean. She hadn't just given him pieces of her heart; she'd given him the whole thing. And temporary insanity couldn't be blamed this time. She wasn't lost in a passion-haze. She did. She loved him. He was gentle and kind, attentive and hard, passionate and determined. He was wild and savage and tender and protective. He was . . . everything.

She didn't want to live Macy's life anymore. She wanted to live her own. Now, always. She would free these agents as planned, but she wouldn't leave and come back. She'd simply stay here and do whatever it took to win Breean's forgiveness. And his heart. She would follow him to the ends of the Earth, whether he wanted her or not.

They
would
be together.

“I'm not going with you,” she said. “And, damn it, I can't find a thread. Should I just start jerking wires out?”

Dallas sputtered, and her gaze lifted. He'd disappeared into his cell.

Devyn, she noticed, was frowning at her. “Little girl, that's not a decision you get to make.”

What? Jerking the wires? “What does that mean?” As she spoke, something brushed her shoulder, and a honey-scented breeze quickly followed. Her blood heated—then chilled. No. Not possible. Not freaking possible.

Heart once again slamming against her ribs, she backed away from the cell.

“What are you doing?” Devyn demanded.

“He's here.”

“The leader?” His gaze slid the length of the hallway. “I don't see anyone.”

“He's—” Her entire mind went black as Breean's essence slipped into her body, utterly consuming her.

How could she have done that to him? Breean wondered. How could she have cut his throat like that? Not a paltry wound, either, but a death wound. Delivered mere hours after he'd sated her.

Fury seethed through him. When he'd realized his body was indeed healing as swiftly as hers had the times he'd sliced into her thigh, he'd decided to spirit-walk, even though he'd left his physical being without a personal guard, something he hated to do. Anyone could stroll into his room right now and cut him—as Aleaha had done—and he would not be able to defend himself. But he had to stop her from escaping, and had been too weak to go after her physically.

So he'd allowed his spirit to rise from his body, detaching one from the other, and had stalked the home, unseen, unsensed, searching for her. Of course, he'd found her with the prisoners.

He shouldn't have been surprised that she'd chosen to injure him and save them. They were her friends, her coworkers, and he probably would have done the same. To anyone but her. He'd thought . . . what? That she'd come to like
him
? That she wanted a future with him? Damn this!

“Macy,” the agent in front of her said. Glitter. He was reaching through the bars, trying to grasp her arm and hold her in place.

In control of her movements, Breean made her step farther away. Unlike when he'd entered her for the bath, she was not aware of him or her surroundings. That time, he'd wanted her responsive. This time, he wanted only her obedience, so he'd overtaken her completely. Her actions were his. Her thoughts were his. Even her voice was his.

“Macy?” Glitter said again.

“Do not worry for her. I will not hurt her,” Breean said. A lie? He wasn't sure. Never had he been in such a murderous mood.

Without another word, he walked her up the stairs and back to his bedroom. The agents called for Macy's return, not understanding what was happening, but he paid them no heed.

She'd chosen the perfect time to escape, for many of his warriors were once again in the city. No one would have known of her—or the agents—release until morning. By then, the agents would have been safely ensconced in AIR headquarters, he was sure, and the hunt for him and his people would have begun.

What made it worse was that she'd used her ability
against him, an ability she had feared but one he had accepted. Not once had he condemned her for what she could do. Yet she'd used it against him,
becoming
him. The remaining warriors would have let her do whatever she wanted, no questions asked.

Was she at all sorry? She'd claimed to be but . . . He released his hold on her thoughts and her voice filled their head.
What are you doing? Breean, stop this! Let me explain.

No, not sorry for her actions. Only sorry she'd been caught.

Still inside her, he gathered four ties and anchored them to the bedposts. His physical self was still lying on the mattress, a slight rise and fall of his chest the only sign that he lived. Amber blood was dried to his throat, but the wound was weaving itself together and had healed considerably. He thought perhaps he would be completely normal in a few hours.

That didn't lessen his rage.

He had Aleaha strip before encasing her own ankles in the ties, spreading her naked thighs and anchoring them in place before making her lie on her stomach beside him.

Breean, let's talk about this. I wasn't going to leave. I had decided—

“Silence.” He had her bind one of her wrists to a post, then had to use her teeth to secure the other.

Finally, she was tethered to the bed.

Breean.

He ignored her, tendrils of satisfaction blending with the heat of his anger.

Breean, please. I—I love you.

She—no! How dare she say that now. Now, when he couldn't be sure whether she meant it or merely wanted to soothe him. Love. It was what he'd come to want from her. To go to bed with her every night and awaken with her snuggled in his arms every morning. To talk with her, learn all that he could about her, to simply enjoy all that she was. But really. How could she love him after what she'd done?

Don't soften,
he told himself.
You gave her more than you've ever given another and she tried to kill you.

Well, she
did
heal you.

Silence
. He didn't want to converse with himself either.

Sleep,
he commanded Aleaha's mind, and she did, fading to quiet, to black.

Grim, Breean pushed his spirit from her, rising like a wave in the ocean, once against detaching from a solid form, before falling back into his own. Conscious mind and body connected, weaving back together like the wound in his neck until he once again had control over his own self.

Then, he waited.

•   •   •

As Aleaha drifted slowly into awareness, she realized four things at once. One, her face was smashed into a white silk pillow. Two, she couldn't move her arms or her legs, and cool air was stroking the wet heat of her core. Three and four, the most significant, she was naked and Breean was straddled over her hips, his knees at her sides.

How had she gotten here? She recalled being in the dungeon, trying to disable the ID box, then nothing. No, wait. That wasn't true. Breean had taken control of her and forced her to walk to his bedroom. He'd forced her to tie herself up.

The ties . . . that's why she couldn't move. Her stomach rolled and twisted, dread filling her veins. She tried to raise her head, tried to turn and face him, but each action was limited and gained her nothing. “Breean, let me explain. Let me—”

“Silence.” There was no emotion in his tone.

“I did what I had to do. I didn't want to hurt you. I swear I didn't. Let me go and we'll—”

“I said, silence!” This time, his voice boomed through the room, echoing menacingly from the walls.

He was angry and hurt, and he had every right to be. But she didn't hold her tongue. “Let the agents go, and I'll run with you. Anywhere you want to go.”

“I'm not running, Aleaha.
This
is my home. One home of mine was already destroyed. I will not allow the same to happen to this one.”

“But—”

He moved so quickly she had no time even to blink before he was leaning down, in her face. “Not another word from you. What you did to me—” He banged a fist into the mattress beside her head.

She gulped. She didn't like this side of him, not when she knew how tender he could be. But she
was
aroused by his nearness. She couldn't deny it. “Breean,” she said, then pressed her lips together.

His chest meshed into her back, hot, always a brand. “You tried to kill me, Aleaha. You have no defense.”

“God, you're so unforgiving! I made sure you survived, didn't I? And hello, you would have done the same thing in my situation, and you know it.” Struggling, she arched her back so that her ass was in the air. His cock glided between the two mounds, a stroke as sure as the ones from his hand. “Free me.”