Ascension (19 page)

“Just don’t make me go through again anytime soon. Feels like my insides are being ripped apart, then put back together with Super Glue.”

“Deal.” Kyana grinned, pushing to her feet. She led them to Spirits. Hank needed to get set up as quickly as possible so he could hurry back to his family and let them know he was alive and well. Odd, but she was regarding him a bit more softly than she had before. He’d done them a service, and after his initial display of wussiness, hadn’t cowered like others of his kind likely would have. If for no other reason, he’d earned a bit of her respect.

Chapter Nineteen

“Y
ou’d probably be more comfortable if you found a bed.”

Kyana jumped at the sound of Haven’s voice. Pain slithered down her spine as she stared up at her friend with fatigued eyes. Her throat ached for a drink. Kyana tried to stand, but her legs refused to move. Geoffrey slept beside her, his head resting on her thigh.

They’d been in one of Spirits’s spare apartments, waiting for Hank to finish the tedious task of setting up his equipment while the minions brought in load after load of computer parts and Marcus attempted to enchant all of it to work Below. She hadn’t meant to doze, but boredom and exhaustion must have taken over.

“Where’d you come from?” Kyana asked.

“I ran into Geoff moving this stuff in about twenty minutes ago.” Haven smiled, but a sadness filled her eyes that made Kyana wince. Her mind instantly pulled up the image of Drake’s name on their list of possible traitors. Haven needed to skedaddle before Hank started getting close to scanning that particular name. If it turned out he was guilty, Kyana wanted to be the one to tell her. If it turned out he wasn’t, Haven would be pissed to all hell that he’d been included in their search at all.

Kyana squeezed her eyes shut to ease their burn and searched for an excuse to get Haven out of here.

“Any progress with those computers?”

Hank looked up from beneath a shaky metal table. “Almost done. Waiting on a couple more pieces and we should be all set.”

Marcus slid out from beneath the desk, his face ruddy and drenched in sweat. “I ran as much magic through the cords as I could, but it’s going to interfere with the café’s television reception. Do what you need to do fast or I’ll start charging per lost customer on game days.”

“Way to support our mission,” Kyana grumbled, watching Ryker pass Marcus fifty human dollars. Where he was planning on spending money now was beyond Kyana, but if he kept serving her fifty/fifty, she wouldn’t poke her nose in his business.

Marcus shoved the money in his pocket. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me. Keep the noise down. I don’t want this interfering with the atmosphere downstairs.”

As Marcus stalked off, Hank looked out the window. The faux sun was high in the sky. “Do you know how much longer Carol and Frag are going to be?”

“Farrel and Crag,” Kyana corrected.

“Oh, right. Sorry. It’s hard to keep the four of them straight.”

“Mine are the polite, helpful ones.” She nodded at Geoffrey. “His are brutes. Did you need something?”

Hank toyed with a computer cable, avoiding Kyana’s gaze. “I know you’re anxious to get this up and running, but . . .” His Adam’s apple bobbed, but he finally lifted his head to meet Kyana’s eyes. “If Farrel and Crag are going to be a while, could I go check on my family? I promised my son I’d be back at daybreak. He’s watched so many go out into the night and not come back. I need to let him know I’m all right.”

Kyana couldn’t imagine what the past two weeks must have been like to a small boy. Nor could she understand why her heart felt like a brick in her chest. “Bring them back here. You can keep an eye on them while you work.”

“Thank you.”

She nodded at the door. “Be back in an hour.”

When the door closed behind him, Haven sat across from Kyana and wrapped her arms around her legs, scanning her from head to foot. “You know, when people were complaining about Vamps stinking up the place, I thought they were just being derogatory.” Her nose wrinkled. “You guys reek. What is that smell?”

Kyana sniffed her hair and winced. “Dismembered demon.”

Haven grinned. “It’s not flattering.” Her smile faded. “The Healer who tended Hank said it got ugly. Are you okay?”

Only a Mystic could describe what they’d gone through as
ugly
. Did the Healer know words like
mass carnage
?
Bloodbath
?

“I’m fine. We’re all fine.” Pain burned in her back. She tapped Geoff’s shoulder. Without opening his eyes, he lifted his head, let Kyana reposition herself, then put his head back on her thigh. His even breaths told her the simple movement hadn’t pulled him completely out of sleep.

It was obvious Haven wasn’t buying what Kyana was selling, but she didn’t comment further. “Why don’t we head home? I picked up this fabulous bubble bath a couple weeks ago that you have to try.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “And Ryker will appreciate you smelling like flowers and not dead demon, believe me.”

“I don’t
care
what Ryker thinks about my smell.”

“Yes you do, lass.” This from Geoffrey, who turned over, nestling his face far too close to bits she’d rather he not nestle.

Haven nudged him with her foot. “Come on. Let’s find you two some clean clothes and a shower. Then we’ll grab lunch. Maybe by then Hank will be ready to start working and Ryker will be back.”

Kyana frowned but didn’t toss back a verbal assault since Haven provided the way to get her out of here before Drake’s name was mentioned.

Without bothering to open his eyes, Geoff grumbled and threw an arm over his face. Kyana smacked him on the head. “Move. My legs are numb.”

He sat up, rubbing his head. “Didn’t your mum ever teach you manners?”

“I’m sure she tried.”

He stood and helped Kyana to her feet. “A complete and utter failure, your mum,” Geoffrey teased as they headed downstairs through the restaurant portion of Spirits, waved farewell to Marcus, and stumbled their way outside. As they passed the portal alcove, Farrel and Crag stepped through. Then Larkin and Cahir. Kyana stopped. Watching. Waiting.

Disappointed, she huffed. She hated the idea of wasting an entire day. It didn’t matter that they were beaten, bloodied, and bruised. They had a job to do, a key to find, and a traitor to hunt. Sitting on her hands would do nothing to improve her mood.

“Finally awake?”

Ryker’s low voice turned her around. Her gaze traveled over him. He’d showered and now wore a horrible Hawaiian print shirt unbuttoned to reveal a white tee over a pair of worn khakis and, of course, sandals. The only evidence remaining of their adventure was a faint bruise on his cheek.

“My God, you’re blinding me. Who taught you how to dress?” She covered her eyes in mock horror.

“Very funny.” He brushed dirt from her hand. “You look like shit.”

“You sure know how to make a girl feel special,” she muttered.

He studied her in silence, his silver eyes softening. “Take the night off. I’ll help Hank start comparing the print with those names on our list. We can meet back up in the morning.”

Kyana hardened her stare. This was her investigation, her hunt, and she intended to be involved every step of the way. “There’s nothing wrong with me that a shower won’t cure. I sent Hank to get his family. He won’t be back for an hour, so if I’m quick, I can squeeze one in.”

Ryker smiled. “That was a kind thing for you to do.”

Kyana rolled her eyes. “I need him to concentrate on his job. If having his family near allows him to do that, then I’ll suffer through having two more humans stuffed into that little room.”

“Still, maybe you’re learning to try something besides fear and intimidation to get your way.”

“Maybe you’re suffering from brain lesions from all the colors you’re wearing and reading way more into my actions than exist.”

“Come on, lass. We’ve got showers and a nice big bed calling our names.”

Ryker’s smile died a quick death. “You’re going home with him?”

Ryker forced his features to stay neutral. He knew the rules of the Order kept Kyana and Geoff apart, but he hated that smooth, easy bond they shared. It ate at his insides knowing Geoff knew a part of Kyana that she’d never introduce
him
to.

“I need a shower and his place is more convenient than mine,” Kyana finally answered. Her eyes darkened. “Unless you have a better offer?”

Gods, did he. He just wasn’t stupid enough to voice it. If he offered her
his
shower, she wouldn’t be taking one alone, and that wasn’t good for either of them, no matter how much she protested otherwise. Even dirty and bloody, she was still the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. He wanted her, and had come close to convincing himself he could take Kyana on her terms without losing himself. It didn’t matter that now wasn’t the time—that their combined missions had to be their main focus. Sex, on his terms or hers, would complicate everything. And another complication was something they didn’t need.

Still, as petty as it sounded, he wanted to get her away from Geoffrey.

“We could find a Seer. Maybe get some insight on the names on our list.”

“While that’s not a bad idea, it’s a bit disappointing.” She smiled. “Besides, shouldn’t we wait until
after
Hank runs the print? He could find a match, and a trip to Seer land won’t be needed.”

Kyana looked at Haven and Geoff. “You guys go ahead. I’ll catch up.”

“Fine,” Geoff muttered. “But that bloody wanker’s just going to put you in a bad mood.”

“Who knows, perhaps he’s going to take my advice and get it right.” Haven’s soft laughter hung in the air as she grabbed Geoffrey’s arm and pulled him away.

When they were alone, Ryker found Kyana watching him. Though she was still smiling, it no longer reached her eyes. “What now?”

“Haven gave you advice? About me?”

“Yeah, she did.” He rubbed his hand along the back of his neck.

“Elaborate?”

Ryker wasn’t sure what prompted him to lace his fingers with Kyana’s, but it felt right. Tingles of heat spiraled up his arm as her skin absorbed his warmth. “We have about an hour before Hank’s going to be back so why don’t we just walk on the beach or find someplace to sit quietly for a while and forget about advice and embarrassment.”

The image of her curled around his body as waves licked at their skin seared his blood and made him hard. Being good was coming with a very steep price to pay. Maybe the sane and safer thing to do would be to just fuck her and get her out of his system.

Could he do that? With the strong pull to her, could he just walk away and pretend it never happened? As Geoffrey would say,
Not bloody likely.

She grinned and pulled her hand from his.
Nope, she definitely isn’t ready for more than a quick lay.

“We’re on a mission to save the world and you want a stroll on the beach?” She placed a hand to his chest.

“What are you doing?”

She shrugged. “Just checking for breasts.”

He stroked his finger along her jaw. “Very funny.”

If her gaze fell now, there’d be no hiding his attraction to her. He shifted and turned away, pulling her behind him.

He led her toward the bungalow he lived in on the beach. He wanted to see her hair spilling over his pillows and touch her till the scent of her body covered his sheets. If he offered it, she’d take it. And he’d spend a million nights afterward regretting it.

It might be worth it.

Chapter Twenty

R
yker lay on the sand next to Kyana, her head resting against his shoulder. Surprisingly, she hadn’t snatched her hand away this time when he’d laced his fingers with hers as she slept, and now her fingers tightened around his as she fought off whatever demon plagued her dreams. It hadn’t taken more than a few minutes for her to doze off beside him, but since they couldn’t do anything until Hank was ready to work again, he let her sleep, wishing his connection to her had lingered long enough to witness what had her so disturbed.

Was it Henry again? The sultan? Maybe the father he’d sensed Kyana loathed. Whatever it was caused Kyana to moan and rub her body against him in fitful slumber, forcing him to tighten his hold on her until she calmed.

Lying beside her now didn’t make it easy to keep his boundaries from crumbling.

When they’d first arrived on the beach, she’d bathed in the shower he’d built outside his bungalow and toweled off, refusing to dress again until her body completely air-dried. Leather, it seemed, did not slide easily onto a damp body.

It hadn’t been the first time Ryker had seen her body, but seeing it covered in the ocean he worshipped had nearly crippled him. She’d lain down to rest, and the minute she’d fallen asleep, he’d covered her body with his shirt and cradled her against his bare chest, her breasts pressed against his skin, killing him a little each time she moved. He was glad she hadn’t asked him to go inside his place. He hadn’t wanted her in his home. Hadn’t wanted to return there later, alone, and have it smell of her. It would have driven him mad.

Now, more than the feel of her naked body, it was the closeness he craved, the bond that was forming between them. She no longer looked at him with loathing in her eyes, recalling his ten-year-old rejection. He couldn’t push for more.

Yet.

Careful not to wake her, he shifted enough to watch her. Even in sleep the lines of stress around her eyes didn’t ease. Did she ever completely relax? Did she ever allow anyone to take some of the pressures off her shoulders? Did she ever trust anyone?

He knew so little about her. And what he had learned over the years wasn’t favorable. Now that he’d worked so closely with her, he knew most of what people feared about Kyana was nothing more than her way of keeping people from getting close. She’d fight to the death to protect her friends or to do her duty to the Order. But despite her claim not to care, he’d never seen her deliberately harm, or allow harm to come to an innocent. Not even the humans. And if anyone had reason to hate the human race, it was Kyana. He’d seen enough of her dreams to know she was justified in her anger toward them, her mistrust.

And demigod or not, he wasn’t sure he had the power to make that hurt go away for her.

“Uh-oh. Looks like someone’s thinking.”

Kyana’s voice ripped through Ryker’s musings. “What’s wrong with thinking?”

“In your case it usually means the fun’s over and the all-too-serious Ryker’s back in control.” Kyana pressed herself closer to him. Her nipples brushed against his skin, making him hard all over again. “You might as well tell me whatever it is.”

As her gaze drifted downward, a small O formed on her lips. “Or maybe I can guess.”

He adjusted his pants to hide the evidence of his thoughts. “What do you expect?” His fingers tightened around hers. Forcing several deep breaths into his lungs, he fought for control. “You’re naked.”

“Glad you finally noticed.” Laughter lightened her sleep-husky voice.

Finally?
Surely she wasn’t that dense.

Ryker rolled slightly so they lay nose to nose. She snuggled against him, her warm breath caressing his neck. For the first time since he’d rejected her advances the night they’d met, she wasn’t demanding or trying to goad him into using her body for a few minutes of pleasure. He wanted her, but not like that.

This time, she seemed content to take what he had to offer and not ask for or demand more. When she was like this, it was easy to forget they were so different. That they wanted opposite things, both out of life and from each other. This, he wanted.

Her body relaxed against him as sleep threatened to take hold of her again. Ryker caressed her back. She purred, lifting her face, silently asking for his kiss. He told himself not to give in to the moment. That nothing lasting would come from the time they shared, but his body refused to listen. Slowly, he closed the distance between them and covered her mouth with his, his heart pounding at the sound of her surprised gasp.

Teasing her lips apart, he lost himself to the taste of her, to the feel of her tongue dancing across his. There was no competition, no struggle for control. He could give himself this much. He could hold on to his control and delight in the feel of her . . .

It didn’t take long for the fog of sleep to finish lifting from Kyana’s mind. Ryker was kissing her. She hadn’t asked for it, hadn’t coerced him.
He’d
come to
her.
As hunger and greed for what he offered overtook her, she became the aggressor, nipping Ryker’s lip, demanding more.

Not giving herself time to think about what she was doing . . . or why he was suddenly so pliable . . . she opened to him. He slipped his tongue over her fangs, then paused. It took twice more before Kyana caught on to his silent instructions. It had been a lifetime since she’d mated with someone who had fangs. Kyana mimicked his actions. Desire spiraled through her, pooling in her belly. She groaned, rocking her hips against his, cursing the khaki barrier between them.

Ryker ended the kiss and leveled himself up enough to look into her eyes. His cock throbbed against her belly. “No games, Kyana.”

“I don’t want games,” she mumbled, trying to capture his lips again.

He avoided her caress until frustration forced her to look at him.

“Don’t turn this into a power struggle, Ky.”

Kyana held his gaze. He knew her far too well for her own comfort. He’d tasted her blood. He’d seen her thoughts. Denying her intentions would have been pointless. But why did it matter that she liked to be in control? They both wanted this. He could deny it, but the evidence not only throbbed hot and hard against her, but darkened his silver eyes to steel.

“Are you afraid of losing?” she asked quietly. “A power struggle, I mean.”

His gaze never wavered. “Yes.”

That shocked her all the way to her toes. Ryker was afraid of
her
? She almost purred with satisfaction.

She finally understood the reason for his uncertainty now. This was about trust for him. About her finally believing that he was a good guy who wouldn’t hurt her. For her to prove to him that she could make this about
them
and not just about herself.

A part of her almost backed off. If she let him believe she wanted more than an orgasm, she could wind up being the one to inflict pain. Sex, in life and death, had always been about control. Wasn’t it the same for him? Had he ever found his release without the power struggle to see who dominated?

The softness in Ryker’s gaze begged for her decision. She sighed and relaxed her arms, trailing them slowly across his back, and grabbing the waistband of his jeans to give them a firm tug. “I draw the line at being docile.”

Ryker smiled. “Active participation would be nice.”

Not sure exactly what he wanted from her, or why she wanted so desperately to give it to him if only for a few minutes, she did something she hadn’t done willingly in two hundred years. Kyana tilted her head, offering her neck in momentary surrender. If he wanted proof that this wouldn’t become a power struggle for her, she could offer him no grander gesture.

Ryker’s low rumble echoed with the waves. He cupped her jaw and eased her gaze back to him. “No stupid games,” he repeated, then claimed her lips once again.

Kyana lost herself in the gentleness of his caress. She slid her hands slowly up his back, loving the way the muscles rippled in response. The heat of his skin warmed her fingers. Her breath hitched. She pressed him closer, rocked her hips against him.

Ryker refused to be rushed. He left her lips to trail blazing kisses along her jaw. His tongue stroked the now healed bite mark. Kyana braced herself for the pleasurable pain that would accompany his possession. Instead of fangs, he closed his mouth over the pounding pulse in her neck, pulling lightly.

She moaned, arching into him. The act of being fed upon without mal intent was the most erotic sensation she’d ever experienced. Her body warmed. Heat built between her legs. Her moan of pleasure, her whispered plea for more, were all that lay between them.

She turned her head, found the pounding pulse point at the base of his jaw with her lips and followed it to his throat, then closed her mouth over it. He tasted like the ocean. Salty, sweaty, sunny.

In him, she tasted daylight for the first time in two hundred years.

He pushed away from her, and Kyana bit her lip to keep from whimpering in protest.

“You taste sweeter than you act,” he whispered. “I always suspected you had a soft, gooey center.”

She swallowed. “If you don’t take off those damned pants, how will you know if you’re right?”

He brushed his lips lightly over hers before leveling himself away again to stare at her. Kyana lay naked and vulnerable beneath him, but she fed off the power of her sexuality. The look of longing, of need, filling his eyes held her still. She reveled in the thrill of him drinking in the sight of her.

Ryker straddled her waist. Slowly, never letting his gaze stray from hers, his hands lightly gripped her ribs, his thumbs caressed the undersides of her breasts.

The need in his eyes reflected her own desires. It took a minute for her to realize he was waiting for her permission. Awed by the respect of his actions, she bowed her back in silent invitation. He dipped his head, flicked his tongue over the nipple, then pulled it into his mouth.

Kyana wrapped her legs around his waist and rocked against him as Ryker shifted his attention to her other breast. His hands trailed lightly down her side to her hip, his fingers biting painfully into her skin. She couldn’t determine if he was trying to stop her movements or encouraging her to continue. The choice had been taken from her. She was already addicted to his touch. Her need to feel all of him ruled her thoughts.

Reaching between them, she tugged at the button on his pants and pushed them lower.

“Not yet,” he groaned against her throat. He wanted to take his time, wanted to make the moment last, wanted to taste every inch of her before giving in.

Shifting, he eased down her body to trail hot, moist kisses over her belly. He circled her belly button, then continued lower to nip lightly at her hip.

Kyana’s purring turned to panted pleading. She pushed his pants off his hips. Lifting her legs, she caught the waist of his khakis between her toes, gently straightening her legs to slide the garment to his ankles.

He growled. She chuckled and held her arms out to him. He kicked the jeans completely off, then covered her again, skin to skin. The heat of his body warmed the chill from hers that the faux sunlight of Below wasn’t able to erase.

Ryker’s hands trembled as he gripped her hips. He wanted to bury himself inside her, but the need to continue his exploration of her body burned hotter with each shiver and sigh she released.

“Now,” she said, taking him lightly in her hand and guiding him inside her. She lifted her hips, completing the connection.

Ryker remained still, enjoying the feel of her hands lightly caressing him from hip to shoulder. “Now,” he repeated when the desire pulsing through her eased and her whimpers for more pushed his own need out of control.

To Kyana, his movements were criminally slow. Nothing like she wanted. She needed hot and hard and explosive. She needed to know his desire for her was as wild as her need for him. She’d never felt like this before. Never allowed herself to take more from sex than the act of release. She’d never thought about her partner’s needs and wants. Never worried if his pleasure burned as intense. With Ryker, she worried about this and so much more.

When she attempted to take control, to rush them toward their reward, his fingers tightened on her hips until she followed his lead.

Kyana gave herself to him. Let him slowly stroke the fires until they threatened to burn them both alive. His movements matched the slow crests of the waves lapping at the shore. Their panted breaths mingled. Their moans of pleasure mirrored their building needs.

The first waves of her orgasm stole her breath. She cried out his name. He answered with hers as he too claimed his prize.

T
he weight of him crushed her, but he wasn’t half as heavy as the awkward silence that followed their climax. The moment wasn’t altogether unpleasant. She liked the feel of the coarse hair on his thighs rubbing her legs, liked the heat of his smooth, hard chest pressing against her bare breasts. She just wished she knew what the hell to say to him now.

Never had she experienced sex so tender. Not even when she was human. Prince Mehmet had raped her of her virginity at the ripe age of fifteen, and every time he’d called upon her afterward, he had been just as brutal. He was the only human she’d ever mated with, and so those violent experiences had traveled with her into her life as a Vamp.