Dark Future (14 page)

Chapter Eighteen

A
tingling started at the base of my spine, crept over between my shoulder blades and took root in my brain. A red haze diffused the perimeter of my vision as I stumbled down the hallway on shaky legs. I burst into his quarters and kicked the door shut behind me. My body was braced, hands on hips ready to attack.

ConRad sat behind his wooden desk, elbows on the top, head in his hands; grief and defeat were heavy in the slump of his shoulders. The venom I wanted to heap upon him shriveled and died in my throat. At my entrance, his gaze slowly rose. The piercing blue of his irises had turned dark gray. Purple hues ringed his eyes. The responsibility he bore was shown in the creases of his face, aging him ten years in the last ten minutes.

My breath hitched and the tears I’d ruthlessly pushed back broke through. I cried for all the soldiers lost, the violence of their sacrifice, the hopelessness of their cause. I wept for me, misplaced and scared in this unforgiving world. I wept for him grieving and alone, knowing he couldn’t weep for himself. There were no words, so I said nothing.

His gaze finally silenced my sobs, but the hot tears continued down my face. The moment stretched out into another and another, until time slowed with nothing but our breathing to number the seconds.

His defenses had crumbled, leaving a brutal rawness pulsing from him. For the first time he allowed me to see past his wall, down to the core of him, into his soul.

And his soul was black, the blackest I’d ever seen. The pit of loneliness and despair would’ve been too much for a lesser man. And then som-senomething else altogether. Need. A want so primitive that fear rose inside me like a self-preserving shield. I pushed myself back against the wall, my hand fumbling for the handle.

Mind changed. Want out.
I’d seen this man’s tightly reined control, and I’d seen him snap. I was no match for the power that rolled off him. I couldn’t play this game and win. To engage was to submit. The strength of his will would consume me with one lick of its flame.

ConRad rose. Cords in his neck stood out as he braced himself with his hands on the desk. With a savageness borne of a man of action and few words, he flung the desk aside, a mere obstacle to the object of his desire . . . me.

With no barrier between us he stepped forward. I courageously held my ground. Being that the wall pushed against my backside and prevented retreat was of little consequence. He stepped forward again.

A fish on a hook, a rat in a trap, I had sympathy for them all. I stretched my hand out to preserve the distance between us. Shook my head in feeble denial.

Instantly upon me, he pushed my futile objections aside. His hands pinned mine to my sides; his mouth captured my own. An arc of lightning shot from my lips to between my legs.

His hand savagely wound in my hair and pulled. My head yielded for his easier access. I let my lips part for one cautious taste. He took what I gave and then more. His tongue invaded, swept across my teeth and palate, sending my senses reeling. At the first hint of his familiar flavor, a whimper escaped from the back of my throat.
I knew him. I knew this.
This was home.

By the rapid rate of his breathing, he fared no better. I ran my hand through his hair and grabbed on. I wanted to crawl up him. Crawl inside him. Reading my thoughts, his hand ran down my side, across my butt, and grabbed my leg. He lifted me to meet him, mouth to mouth, breast to chest, hip to hip. A growl sounded deep in his throat. My body responded to his primitive call. We were like two animals in prime heat, licking, biting, clawing. It was a natural progression from what we just witnessed. We were slaughtered like animals and now we needed to rut like ones.

The thought had me rearing my head up and gasping for sanity.
Breathe. Dammit, just breathe. Reason will return.
Was this what I wanted? I was too close. I couldn’t go down this road and still leave that vital part of me protected. He was like a lion seeking to devour. He’d always demanded more than I could give. ConRad may think we were two animals heady on bloodlust and survival’s guilt, but I had to stop being so naïve. This would change everything.

ignhim. Re
Scared. Too scared
. My well-constructed defenses that protected me were no match for his assault. I’d been strong enough to close myself off from everyone, my family, my own flesh and blood, but with one hushed word he could destroy me.

I struggled, gently at first, then with earnest. He didn’t notice. He rained kisses on my neck, the soft spot behind my ear, and the hairline by my temple. Fresh tears blurred my vision. His lips brushed the wetness at the corner of my eyes. The tender gesture had me biting the inside of my cheek to keep my focus. I slipped my hand between his tempting mouth and my traitorous skin. I need space.

He looked up; my breath caught. His face etched with pain, tortured and starved. My heart rose in my throat, and I swallowed hard to lodge it back into place. With my legs still wrapped around his waist, I gently placed my hands on either side of his face and gazed directly into his eyes.

“What are you doing?” I whispered.

ConRad closed his eyes with a heavy sigh. “God, I was really hoping it was obvious.”

I smiled. I couldn’t help it. Underneath his callous demeanor he was still such a guy. “I mean, why are you doing this?”

“You don’t know the answer to that either?” ConRad’s mouth twitched in a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll weep with gratitude later, but please, sweetheart, let me show you now.” His hips rubbed against mine in a way that had me biting my lip for another reason all together.

“Damn it, ConRad.” He was nowhere close to weeping. I on the other hand was shaking. “If you want to get me into bed, being obtuse is not the best way of going about it.” This wasn’t my best argument being that his hands were on my butt, and I was resting on something extremely hard and apparently very large.

ConRad sighed again and lowered his forehead against the wall behind me. “Sweetheart, I’m a patient man; I know this. Really, I do. I’d not be where I am today, Commander in Chief of this compound, if that wasn’t so. But damn it to hell if I’m not scraping for the last dregs of tolerance I have left. So let me explain the blaring obvious to you. The last thing I want to do with you is argue. Hell, I don’t even want to talk, and I’m really hoping you have other uses for that tongue of yours, except flaying me alive. I just want to lose myself in your soft body. A body that smells so damn good that I haven’t let my sheets be washed since you’ve come here. I work out three times a day, just so I have a hope of falling asleep. And even when I do, it doesn’t matter because I spend the whole time chasing you in my dreams and wake more enslaved to you than ever. And I just . . . just want to forget that this day ever happened.”

Enslaved?
ConRad enslaved to me?

He’d been whispering in my ear, and he now raised his head and stared straight into my eyes. I saw something in his gaze. Something small and fragile, could it be hope? I wasn’t sure about anything anymore, except no one had ever looked at me the way he did in that moment.

Conrad’s glance traveled down to my nose and lips. His mouth followed, bestowing feather soft kisses to each. “I’ve seen and done things like I have today so much and so often that I’ve become dead inside.” His voice grew husky as if he had a catch in his throat. “I walk around all day and live my life feeling nothing; no hate, no anger just . . . nothing.

“I thought that was how life was . . . and then you came. And I started to feel. Mostly pissed off, mind you, but a feeling nonetheless, and it meant that I was alive.” He broke eye contact as if he couldn’t face me and rested his forehead in the nook between my head and shoulder. He shuddered. “Kris, I’ve never asked another human being for anything in my life, but I am asking you. Please let me feel alive with you for just this one moment, this one time.”

Breathe. For the love of everything that’s holy. Breathe.
This was the longest he had ever spoken to me at one time. But was it enough? Trust for me was a territory uncharted, unlit, and uncomfortable. It was like jumping off a cliff . . . in pitch dark. I’d been on the precipice and now the rocks were crumbling beneath my feet. Was I ready to give this man my everything? To hold nothing back?

No, I could hold the line. I could give into him and not lose myself in the process. I was strong enough. In my mind I walled myself up tight. Then dove in.

I groaned into his mouth and opened wide. His tongue stroked mine, thrusting in and out, sending a warm liquid to pool down where I wanted him the most. I traced his lips with my tongue, wetting them, and then reveled in the spontaneous shiver that went through his body.

He strained his hips into mine and rocked in the most maddening rhythm. If he was the most patient man, then I was his polar opposite. I’d always been open for the quickie, but this couldn’t get moving fast enough. He locked my ankles around his waist and slid his hands under my shirt. With a few quick moves he bared me completely to his mouth, open, sucking, sending me to a place where thought didn’t exist. My breasts were so sensitive they hurt. He lifted me up like I weighed nothing to place each nipple at mouth level. I dug my hands in his hair to better direct his delicious, hot mouth.

Someone plead>So walled myed; I think it was me. His heat burned me, flushed my skin. A want rose deep inside me. I moved my hips so there was no question, the invitation was clear.

He got the message.

ConRad swung us over to the bed and laid me on my back. In record time he stripped off his shirt, boots, and pants, leaving him standing there, impersonating an ancient warrior, ready to ravage. I bit my finger to keep myself from losing all self-respect by begging, but then did it anyways. “Hurry. Please.”

ConRad seemed to agree, and I was way overdressed for this party. He attacked my military boots first, grabbed hold and tugged hard. I nearly flew off the bed.

“Um, you’ll have to untie them first,” I giggled. Crap. I clamped my hand over my mouth. I don’t giggle. With exaggerated patience he bent down to the task of undoing the seemingly hundreds of holes and laces. He got to about halfway, tugged again, and nearly pulled my hip from its socket.

I laughed. “You have to undo them
all
the way.”

“Damn these boots,” he growled.

“You’re the one who made me wear them,” I said, laughing again.

“Stupid mistake. From now on you’ll be going barefoot.”

“And naked?” I couldn’t resist.

“Not if you plan on ever leaving this room,” he shot back.

I couldn’t help but smile. To think I had this effect on such a powerful and controlled man had me feeling heady in my own right.

Both naked and both out of patience, he slid on top of me, grabbed my thighs, and pulled me closer to fit him better. Tasting, licking, biting. I struggled free and sunk my teeth into his shoulder. He might have gotten first blood, but I’d get my due.

The taste of smoke, sweat, and man lingered as I bathed my tongue over the small bite marks. I buried my face in his neck and imprinted his scent on my brain. His wet mouth . . . warm tongue circled my ear flicking in and out, igniting chills throughout my body. A crazy whimpering sounded deep in my throat.
Enough. No more
. I ran my hand down the length on t="enf him. Clasping his rock hardness, he was all warm steel, soft silk, and I was crazy for him.

ConRad was breathing hard, and holding me so tight a weaker woman would’ve crumbled. He whispered in my ear sweet, gentle things like how soft my skin was, how the smell of my hair made his mouth water. Then his words turned naughty. Raw sex talk threw me over the edge, making me moan with need. I drew him toward me, and wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled.

“God,” ConRad rasped as he pushed into me. And I allowed him in, all the way in. He chose the pace, held me down, and made me take him. The tempo we followed was all our own. Then our rhythm quickened, and I threw my head back. Colors exploded behind my eyes. He stiffened and groaned.

We lay there, chests heaving, sticky with sweat. The air was thick with the scent of sex, mixed with our heavy breathing. ConRad’s weight bore down on me, and I shifted to a more comfortable position. My movement must’ve brought him back to the moment, and he quickly rolled off to his side, drawing me into a classic spoon position. He threw his leg over my hip effectively staking his claim. Purring my contentment, I closed my eyes. I’d done it. My vulnerability, bloodied and tarnished, was still my own.

I would’ve been fine, even as his lips brushed against my throat. But he whispered one word, reverent and prayerful, in the silence. “Kris.”

And I was lost, tumbling over the cliff.

Chapter Nineteen

I
woke with a smile and breathed into a deep contented stretch, letting the rough blanket slip down around my waist. My range of motion was limited due to the big hulking man passed out on top of me. ConRad’s leg was thrown over mine and his arm wrapped protectively around my middle. It felt glorious. I smiled even bigger and wiggled my naked little bottom against his groin, secretly delighting at his low moan. I could feel him grow hard and loved the thought that it was me he was reacting to.

But that wasn’t the only thing bouncing around in my head. Shocking as it was, I couldn’t help but think of what beautiful children we’d make together. I groaned inwardly.
Don’t do this. Don’t start planning your wedding to a man that you barely know.

My father’s voice chimed in.
“Kris,” he said disapprovingly. “Now why would any man buy the cow if they’re getting oming

Ahh, mental head slap. I always hated that expression. Who’d thought it was okay to start comparing daughters to farm animals? Then all nagging voices were silenced because ConRad opened his beautiful intense eyes, framed with the longest lashes I’d ever seen, and bestowed upon me the most devastating smile. After that, . . . what father?

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi.”

He had a silly grin on his face, and I was pretty sure my face mirrored his.

“You’re beautiful,” he said. “Did you know that?”

Ironically, I was thinking the same thing about him as a flood of warmth pulsed through my body. “If I said no, would you tell me again?”

It was shameless to fish for a compliment, but it wasn’t as if I had far to fall, considering I was lying naked with a man I barely knew.

His smile faded and a look of seriousness sobered his eyes. “I’d tell you for the rest of your life if you’d let me. In fact, plan on it.”

I sucked in my breath at his words. A thrill shot through me. See dad, I wanted to shout, you are not always right. ConRad seemed to be waiting for an answer. I searched my muddled brain for some smart, witty response, but couldn’t find one. Instead, I settled for a stupid grin and a dumbfounded nod.

Embarrassed, I broke eye contact. I wasn’t ready for this conversation, too many implications. Feeling the need for coverage, I pulled the blanket up under my arms. I rested my head on his chest and concentrated on taming the unruly butterflies in my stomach. I ran my fingers over his chest and traced the S-shaped scar on his right peck. The mark was ugly, the skin still puckered and red from the burn. Needing to change the subject, I asked, “What happened?”

He stiffened beneath me. Long moments passed and I thought he wouldn’t answer. If I was more trusting and confident, I’d tell him to never mind, but I wasn’t. Our previous conversation exposed too much of my vulnerability, and I grasped at the opportunity to have a little balancing of the scales. I knew nothing about his past, nothing about who he was. We had to start somewhere.

“It happened a long time ago.” His voice muted as the caressing stroking of my hair stopped. “When I was a kid, I wwasad, I wanas given up by my family. Since I was male, they really had no use for me. I couldn’t create an alliance through marriage or be sold for money, so I was taken to the military for training. As with most of the young men at the age of twelve, I was slotted for the corps nicknamed the Killing Fields. We were merely speed bumps to slow the aliens’ progression down. There was no chance at survival.”

His fingers massaged my temple as he paused, trying to find the right words. “There was a custom. Not a good one. The last night before our big battle we were given a no-holds-barred chance at freedom and a small bottle of whiskey. I guess the leaders’ thought they could turn us into men overnight so they wouldn’t have a guilty conscience of sending children to their deaths.

“Regardless, among us boys the custom was called Hell Night. Older boys hunted in packs for the smaller, younger ones. It wasn’t until much later I figured out why. I guess I was considered pretty, and was definitely young enough. I spent most of that night hiding and running.”

At his words I stilled. I could only imagine in a world full of men behaving badly, what teenagers, desperate and knowing they were going to die, would do to a younger, more helpless boy.

“I found my way into the sleeping quarters of a high-ranking Elder. At that time I thought he was my savior. He protected me through Hell Night and took me in as his page, preventing me from going to the Killing Fields. Everything started innocently enough: cooking, keeping his quarters clean, and in turn he taught me about political intrigue and espionage. Then things turned personal.” His voice was controlled and neutral as if he was relaying what he ate for lunch the day before. “I’ll spare you the details of the seduction.”

My breath shallowed, and my insides tightened. I was afraid any sudden move would close him down, cut any tentative bond between us.

In a monotone, he continued. “I tried to escape numerous times and ended up being shackled to a metal post in his room. Those months are dark, huge gaps in my memory. But I do recall him believing himself in love with me, and it infuriated him that I wasn’t willing. He called the sessions ‘Breaking the Boy.’ After one such session I got sick, delusional with a high fever. He must’ve realized he’d gone too far because I was anonymously dropped off at the infirmary. After I got well, I made my escape, but in that last session he had already branded me with his mark. And that’s why I carry the first letter of his name, Syon, on my chest.

“It wasn’t inconsequential that when choosing my last name—Smith—I chose one that began with S. I refused to let his mark shame me forever.”

Silence hung heavy between us. He’d just bared his soul to me and it scared me to death. I was used to living my life on a superficion Proal level. This went way beyond. “I don’t . . . I mean . . . I’m . . .”

“Shh. I told you because you asked and because you need to know I have a dark side. You need to know how dark I can get.”

I scooted off him and busied myself with a frayed hem of the sheet. This was going in a direction I had no hope of being able to control.

“This is supposed to be where you say that you’re not afraid of the dark.” There was humor in his voice, but underneath was something else altogether.

“You make me nervous,” I said.
Coward!
I shouted at myself, as I wished fervently to backpedal the conversation to safer ground.

“I make a lot of people nervous, sweetheart.” There was a sly smile in his voice, but I refused to glance up to confirm.

His utter stillness had me fidgeting even more. But he deserved more from me. He deserved the truth. “ConRad, I don’t think . . . what I mean is, this is going too—”

A sudden loud pounding on the door had us both jumping four feet, straight into the air.

“Commander sir. Urgent, sir,” a solider said from behind the door.

ConRad was up and dressed before I was even out of bed. Apparently seeing no need to wait for me to get my clothes on, ConRad cracked the door and peered out.

“The Elders are here and looking for you. The word is that they aren’t happy.”

ConRad gave a nod and began to close the door.

“Sir?”

ConRad looked back to the solider.

“They’re looking for the woman.”

ConRad went dead still for a mere heartbeat, but it was enough to send my mind racing. He closed the door and shifted his gaze toward me.

“Get dressed,” he stated coolly, then sat down and pulled on his boots.

“What’s going on?”

“The Elders are here,” he said simply.

“The Elders?” I squeaked. I hadn’t really believed they’d come.

“They’re here to investigate the death of the goddess. I thought I would have more time, but their spy network must run deeper than I thought.”

“Do they know about me?” Sweat prickled underneath my clasped arms.

“If they don’t, they will soon. An unattached female, who appeared out of nowhere, is hard to keep secret.”

I hadn’t moved, still naked and wrapped in a blanket. My heart rate was picking up fast and the familiar taste of metal coated my tongue.

“Listen—” he took my face in his hands and drilled his gaze into mine, “the Elders
control all of civilization . . . and everything in between.”

“Does that include you?” I whispered, my throat suddenly dry.

“Oh yeah . . . especially me. Do us both a favor, stay low, out of sight.” He let me go and walked to the door. “Get dressed and go and find Aura. She’ll hide you if she can. I’ll meet you at what’s left of the command center after I get rid of them.”

It wasn’t his words that sent ice mainlining into my body, but the desperate look he gave me before he left.

ConRad was scared.