Cassandra's Dilemma (18 page)

“It wasn’t a bomb,” Cassie whispered into the darkness.

“What wasn’t a bomb?” Jacob’s words were husky, drenched in sweet sex and masculine heat. His voice was muffled, tucked into the crook of her throat.

“It wasn’t a bomb in the park.”

The bed moved beneath her as he levered himself upward. Cassie bit back a cry as his weight slid to the side of her, bereft without his heat. But Jacob’s arms slid around her, pulling her closer and tucking her to his chest. He must have rolled onto his back.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured against her hair. “So beautiful.”

Cassie nestled against his chest. An ache panged in her heart. She wanted to know what those words looked like on his face. She wanted to know if the lines in his face softened or if his eyelids were half-lowered. She wanted to know if his lips were swollen or if his face was flushed. Did sweat dampen his forehead?

“Cassie? What did you mean it wasn’t a bomb?”

She shook off the waves of self-pity. The blindness was temporary. He’d told her that. She had to believe him. Even if it wasn’t—even if it wasn’t, she wouldn’t spoil this moment by obsessing over it.

“I was thinking about the explosion. I was thinking about what you said in the hospital. About remembering the sights and the sounds. But the explosion had no sound. It didn’t make sense to me that there was no sound. How could there be no sound? Explosions have sounds, don’t they?”

“Yeah.” His fingers trailed up and down her arm. “They do. The techs combing the scene have not been able to identify any bomb fragments. At least they hadn’t at their last report.”

“Could magic do that?” The question was moot. Cassie knew it was magic. She didn’t know how she knew, but she knew it was. She just wanted to hear confirmation of it.

“It’s possible. I would have to examine the scene for magical signatures, but these kinds of spells—they don’t leave them. They are complicated and dangerous and usually bound to a life…”

“Bound to a life? What does that mean? Whose life?” Yet even as she gave voice to the question, her mind shied away from the answer.

“It’s called a martyr spell. It’s a spell packed around a person.”

“Like a suicide bomb?” Cassie jerked upward. “Someone packed magic onto someone and…” She couldn’t finish the thought. She couldn’t let herself think about how that had to have happened.

“Yes, Cassie.” Jacob was sitting up, rubbing her back gently as though trying to comfort her, but what comfort could he really give her?

“Billy.” Sadness pinged inside of her.

“I’m sorry, Cassie.”

She swallowed, the sob lodging in her throat. She rocked back and forth, shaking. Jacob’s arms slipped around her, tucking her against his chest as she cried.

“The Fae are dangerous.”

“You don’t know that they did this,” Cassie protested, pulling away from the safety his embrace offered.

“You don’t know that they didn’t.” The brutal words might be what Jacob believed, but it went against everything Cassie knew of the allies who came to her all those months ago.

Free of his embrace, she stumbled to her feet, banging her shin against hard wood. Most likely a nightstand. Jacob’s hand closed on her arm, but she jerked away, needing to pace, needing to work this through. Her hip bounced off another piece of furniture.

“Cassie.”

“Don’t!” She twisted in the direction of his voice, holding up a hand. “You keep acting like you know the Fae did it, but you can’t know that. If you did, you’d have taken action.”

“You can’t know they didn’t. You have blind faith in them right now. I get it, you feel affection for the Elf and maybe even for the Danae, but they are hundreds and hundreds of years older than you. Don’t you think they can fool you if they want to?”

“Why would they? What would they gain?”

“I don’t know. But you need to calm down and to relax.”

“Relax? Relax? Do you realize that in the last forty-eight-some-odd hours my assistant was triggered as some kind of magical suicide bomber, I’ve been blown up, attacked in my home, kidnapped from a park, and found out that not only are there Elves and Fairies and Goblins in the world, but also Wizards. Next thing I know, you’re going to tell me Demons, Vampires, and Werewolves are real. So don’t tell me to relax.”

“Actually—”

“Stop.” Cassie jerked her hands up into her hair, tugging hard, until the pull against her roots stung. “I don’t want to know.”

“Are you sure?” Jacob sighed. His hand feathered onto the bareness of her back, a gentle, soothing rub. The caress eased the sting on her heart, and her pride, if she were honest. “The world can be a pretty scary place if you don’t rip all the blinders off.”

“I think it’s scary enough as it is.” Tears trickled down her cheeks. She was so tired of crying. She hadn’t cried this hard since her mother’s death.

“If this scares you, then why did you take
this
job? Why are you working for the Fae?”

“Because she’s a client.” The feeble excuse rang hollow against her conscience.

“And that’s it? Anyone can walk in off the street and hire you, and you’d do the same job for some douche bag that you’re doing for her?”

“Of course not. I just—I like the Danae. She’s funny, she’s warm, she’s got a good head on her shoulders, and she wants what’s best for her people.”

“No, she wants what is best for the Elves. The Fae is made up of more than just the Elves, but the Elves are the ones who are dying off—weakening. She wants what is best for them.”

“Is that wrong?” Cassie countered. “If our people were dying, would you want to do what you could to save them?”

Jacob’s silence was a tangible presence. Cassie listened intently just to hear him breathe. His hand moved from her back to the nape of her neck, fingers stroking the edge of her scalp. The touch sent shivers of sensation rippling through her. A swift intake of breath might be seen as a sign of weakness, so she tried to cover it up, but her belly tightened as his fingers slipped around to stroke her cheek.

“Cassie, my people have been in danger from the Fae for a very long time.”

“But the Fae are your people, aren’t they?” She tried to ignore the husky note in her voice.

His bark of laughter decried real humor. “They aren’t my people, Cassie. That’s what you don’t understand—it’s not as simple as Mom and Dad living together from two different cultures. Elven fathers don’t stick around. They pick the loveliest lady they can get their hands on, fuck her silly, leave her pregnant, and take off.”

Cassie reached up, hands seeking until she found his. He stilled under her touch, but she turned over his larger, heavier hand and threaded her fingers through his, twisting to look toward the sound of his voice.

“Tell me. You seem convinced that what I am doing is wrong. But I believe in the Danae. I’ve seen into her eyes, I’ve listened to her words, and I’ve heard the truth in them. She really does want what is best for all her people. Coming out to the world—it could save the Fae. I believe that—don’t ask me how or why, but I learned a long time ago to trust my instincts. If my gut tells me to do something, then I need to do it.”
Damn this blindness to hell.

Jacob stroked her cheek with his free hand and brushed the hair behind an ear. He trailed his finger down the line of her face to her chin. “You can’t see my eyes.”

“I can hear your voice. I’ve seen into your eyes before. Tell me.” She rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand, wishing she could rub away the pain and the doubt. “I don’t know why you touch me the way you do. But I want to make you feel better, too. You’re helping me when you don’t have to. So let me help you in return.”

“Cassie, I’m not some kind, warmhearted Good Samaritan who’s going out of my way for you. Hell, I’ve known you less than a day, and I’m the one who wants to fuck you silly. Trust me when I say I know I’ve found the loveliest woman out here.” The heat of him whispered across her skin before his mouth captured hers in a searing kiss. She lifted her free hand and put it against his chest. He kissed her hungrily, devouring her defenses. A low moan vibrated in her throat.

In some distant, small corner of her mind, a voice insisted that this was the wrong thing to be doing.

Again
.

I’m the one who wants to fuck you silly.

He had already fucked her. She wanted him to fuck her again. She didn’t care whether they called it sex, making love, or a straightforward fuck. She wanted him.

Cassie’s hand slid up his chest to touch his face, allowing him to lure her back onto the bed as the long, hard heat of his cock pressed against her belly.

The smell of cloves mingled with sandalwood and evergreen flooded her senses. His mouth plundered hers. His tongue thrust against her teeth, slipping past them to tangle with her tongue. Another longer and deeper moan escaped. The kiss ended as abruptly as it began with Jacob pulling back, his breathing ragged. His forehead rested against hers, the heat of his breath feathering across her cheek.

“Your mouth tastes like peppermint and coffee.”

“Probably a good thing I brushed my teeth.” He chuckled, his voice rougher, harsher around the edges.

“Are you avoiding telling me?”

His mouth brushed the corner of hers, teasing, tantalizing. She turned her face toward him, opening her mouth to the kiss. Cassie’s emotions were out of control. Her fingers traced along his cheek, threading carefully into his hair. His lips continued to tease hers, tongue darting out to taste before withdrawing. She laughed through her tears at the sensations, chuckling into his mouth.

“Not sure that it’s good form when the lady laughs,” Jacob murmured against her mouth.

“It’s not good form when the man dodges the question.”

“I’m not dodging.”

“No?”

“Oh, no.” His mouth covered hers, preventing any further response. His hands cupped her face, thumbs tracing the lines of her eyes to her ears and then down her neck.

The lazy swell of heat in her stomach began to spread through her limbs, tiny electric quakes sending warning signals along every nerve ending. Her tongue tangled with his, tasting, being tasted, testing, and being tested. She pulled away this time, panting. She turned her face away as he buried his face into the hollow of her throat.

“Don’t let me interrupt.” Helcyon’s voice splashed like ice water against her overheated skin.

Cassie yelped, twisting toward the sound of his voice. Mortification swam through her. She’d half forgotten Helcyon, trapped outside while she frolicked with Jacob inside.
What the hell is wrong with me?

She’d always enjoyed variety with her lovers, but two in the same day? And forgetting one in favor of the other?

“Go back out, and you won’t be.” Jacob’s voice growled, but he didn’t pull away from her. In fact, he shifted, pulling a sheet up to drape over her, shielding her nakedness.

“Jacob. Stop.” Competing desires for privacy, understanding, and absolution staggered her mind. She wanted Hels, too.

What the hell does that make me?

Her heart pinged. She wanted them both.

“I can take you away from all of this, from them—from the Feth Felen, from the Elf—I can make you safe,” the Wizard promised.

“No.” She offered no further explanation. He stilled at the finality in her word. He seemed to understand that she was serious. When she opened her mouth to speak again, Jacob pressed a finger to her lips.