Demon Forged (24 page)

He stopped within an arm’s length. “You’ll need to change.”

Yes. Irena closed her eyes and tried to picture the right clothing. Something like Taylor’s. But she could not focus on the details of buttons, of seams. She could only think of Olek, there in front of her. He had the scent of the flame upon him. Of smoke and heat.

“Irena.” He passed beside her, and laid a booklet on the conference table, open to a flagged page. “If you need a visual.”

She joined him at the table and recognized a clothes catalog. “You carry this with you?”

“No. Lilith asked Selah for it.” He tugged on the side of her brief shirt, his fingertips skimming her waist. A shiver raced over her skin. “She has only seen you in this and thought you might need the help.”

“And she gave it to you to pass on?”

“I believe Lilith wished to make sure Selah was not harmed in the delivery.”

Irena laughed, then turned to study the catalog. She visualized trousers, a jacket, a white shirt. She vanished her clothes and replaced them with the newly created ones. Alejandro’s shoes served as the model for hers.

His eyes darkened as his gaze lifted from her face to her hair. His brows rose. She knew what he was asking. The style should be smoother—and better suited to the occupation.

She pushed her fingers through the strands until there were no more tangles. That would have to do. Her gaze dared him to argue. He didn’t, but he didn’t back away, either. “And these are for you.”

She took the identification, credit cards, and wallet that appeared in his hand. Her picture had been altered so that she wore the appropriate clothing and hair. Irena’s gaze skipped over most of the data, and she didn’t try to make sense of it. She searched for her name, instead.

“Irena
Steele
?” They could not be serious.

Humor flashed through Olek’s eyes again. “Savi’s idea. Your title is
special agent
, but aside from introductions, we will use surnames.”

“And what name do you use?”

“Alec Cordoba.”

The name fit him, she thought. Not perfectly, but there was some of this agent in him that felt right. She looked down at the identification again. She ran her thumb over the delicate, looping signature, trying to see it as hers. She could not. Her writing was blunt, heavy.

Uncertainty fluttered low in her gut. Investigation wasn’t the same as protection, or even a hunt. Hunting required similar stealth and cunning—but there were few rules to heed while hunting, and no need for a delicate touch.

“You won’t have the lead in this.”

She glanced up. Alejandro must have read either her face or her psychic scent. Reading his in turn was difficult, but a note of apology had filtered through his voice.

Had he thought she’d be disappointed? In almost every battle they’d fought together, she’d taken the lead. But this wasn’t her usual battle, and her skills were better suited for backup and support. She saw no shame in taking the rear and keeping a quiet tongue. Her blade was still sharp.

She vanished the wallet. “If you
had
put me in as lead, I would’ve named you an idiot.”

“And I would have lied and said that Lilith made the decision.”

His dry response pulled a short laugh from her. His forefinger stroked down the center of his clean-shaven chin in a gesture as sensuous as it was familiar.

“What do you wonder, Olek?”

The wry smile in his eyes told her he had many questions, but he limited himself to one. “The novices heard you were the first to make a vampire. Several have come to me, asking about the story. I had nothing to tell them.”

The novices had gone to him? Because she and Alejandro were well known as
friends
. Perhaps they all thought as Jake did.

“She fought a nosferatu and was dying. After I killed it, I gave her the heart,” she said. “The next morning the sun rose, and she died.”

Olek
did
know her so well that she didn’t need to add more. She saw that he understood it all: her admiration for the girl; the frustration of not anticipating her death; the weight of failure.

Perhaps the novices had been right to go to him.

But he still surprised her when he said, “You saw yourself in her?”

“Yes.” The girl had reminded Irena of when she’d been a human. And if the girl had died saving another, rather than fighting for her own life, she would have been made a Guardian, too.

“Do you still grieve for her?”

For the girl Irena had admired but hardly knew, or for the opportunity lost in that life? Was there a difference?

“When I think of her.” Which was not so often, now that fifteen centuries had passed. Time could not always heal, but it could offer distance. “When I have to speak of her.”

“Then I will not make you speak of her, and will answer the novices’ questions for you.”

That sounded like protection. Irena didn’t know how to respond.

And suddenly, she could not. Everything inside her tensed as Alejandro lowered his head, his gaze holding hers. Her heart threatened to hammer through her chest. Slowly, she watched him descend.

His lips brushed hers, featherlight.

And she was unbalanced when he almost immediately lifted his head. Why had he—

It became clear. Her snarl formed on lips he’d barely touched. Was this comfort? He offered her
comfort
?

The first kiss he’d given her—the first kiss he’d taken—and it was nothing more than what she’d bestow on a friend. That was not what she wanted from Olek.

His dark gaze searched her face. She felt the touch of his mind, seeking out her feelings.

Did he want to know? She would show him.

Catching his shoulders, she dragged him down to her lips, and took his mouth as it needed to be taken.

As she needed to take it.

He didn’t fight. But he didn’t easily give in—not her Olek. No, he issued a challenge the moment he entered her mouth with a silken thrust of his tongue. The moment he tried to take control.

Irena wouldn’t let him. Bracing herself on the edge of the table, she wrapped her legs around his hips. She lifted to him and he slid against her, already fiercely aroused, his erection heated steel beneath his trousers. His kiss was wet, hot. She pulled at his hair, wanting more, deeper, now.

He pushed her back flat against the tabletop and followed her down, his weight heavy between her thighs. Her need burst open. She whipped him around, reversing their positions. When he lay back on the table, she lifted her head and froze.

Olek’s skin was flushed, his mouth reddened by her kiss. His face was as sharply defined as a newly whetted blade.

She’d done that to him. A multitude of emotions squeezed at her chest, locking away the words she wanted to find. Words that meant something.

His hands closed over her shoulders and hauled her back down.

Yes.
His mouth against hers was enough. This was all that needed to be said.

She came all the way up on the table and straddled his hips, her knees spread wide. She licked the shallow dent in his chin. He rocked up against her core. Her inner muscles clenched with need, yearning to be satisfied, to be filled. She was so hungry. She couldn’t be hungrier, and yet it became sharper with each taste.

With impatient hands, she ripped his shirt open. A wedge of dark hair shadowed his chest, thinning to a silken line down the center of his stomach. She followed the trail with her fingers. His flesh burned, feverishly hot.

But nothing like the demon’s. She’d never touched that one. Her hands had remained fisted. Now, her open palms slid over his skin, claiming every inch.

She took his mouth again. Olek’s hands slid to her ass, pressed her sex tight against his thick erection, grinding up against her. She panted and moved with him. By the gods, she was so wet, so empty. His mouth burned a path down her throat. She sat up and vanished her jacket, her shirt. His lips closed around her nipple. His mouth was hot. Oh, so hot. He licked, sucked. Her back arched and the ripples started, deep, deep.

She needed him pushing inside her. Needed to have him, to surround him. It would be fast. And hard.

And long, long overdue.

“Now, Olek.” Irena vanished her trousers and tore at his. “I need you in me
now
.”

In his body, she felt a hesitation. In his eyes, she saw calculation.

They both lasted only an instant, but she could think over that hesitation in the same amount of time. By the next instant, she understood.

The night before, she’d spoken of her disappointment that he had not fought for her—for any woman. And Olek wanted her. But
this
was not about fighting for her. He hadn’t intended that soft kiss to come to this, but just to sweeten her. And during that hesitation, he’d weighed the consequences of going further than he’d anticipated.

Yes, he’d had some subtle plan, because that was Olek. But not because he’d decided to fight for her. This was about his pride. Whether he wanted to prove something to himself or to her, she did not know.

She did not care.

Irena ripped away, leaving him on the table. He came up halfway, onto his elbow, and looked at her between his bent knees. The beauty of him, reddened by her mouth and disheveled by her hands, struck painfully deep. She’d always wanted to see him this way. The urge to return to him battled with the hurt that awaited her if they finished this for his reasons.

Even if his reasons had been lost beneath his own need. His eyes had darkened. They didn’t calculate now, but questioned.

Her body was taut, her voice even. “I do not wish to fuck your pride, Olek.”

He didn’t answer. And that, she thought, was answer enough.

She recreated her clothes. Her fingers shook when she dragged them through her hair.

“Irena—”

Her fury erupted. She struck at his silk-tongued mouth—and controlled herself at the last instant. She drove her fist through the table surface between his legs, instead.

The wood cracked, buckled. The table collapsed, taking Olek and his pride to the floor.

She left them lying there.

Alejandro sat, his head a heavy weight in his hands and anger burning through him—all of it directed at himself.

He was an idiot. And he should have anticipated her reaction when she realized what he was up to. But he hadn’t thought she would realize it. Stubborn, blinkered woman—yet she had seen. He’d prepared for the hammer and hadn’t expected the sword.

And he hadn’t known that soft kiss would spark an uncontrollable blaze. He
should
have known. Passion had never been a problem between them, even if they had only kissed the once.

Twice now. He could still feel her against him. Could still see her face as she’d pulled away.

God, what an unbelievable idiot he was. And if only he could see what to do now.

He couldn’t.

The door opened. Lilith stepped into the room with her hellhound at her side, and stopped short. Her lips pursed as she looked at him sitting in the middle of the broken table, his shirt ripped open.

“You trashed my conference room.”

Alejandro rubbed his hand over his eyes. “Yes.”

Her heels clipped across the floor. She crouched and picked out the catalog from the remnants of the table near his hip. “Was it because of this?”

“No.”

“Damn.” She stood, the catalog rolled in her hand. “All right. My office, one hour. And, for fuck’s sake, with your prick
in
your pants.”

He didn’t need to look. “It is.”

“No.” Lilith’s smile wasn’t kind. “Obviously it’s not, because four walls are still standing, and she’s not laid out on the floor next to you.”

His fingers clenched. And he’d let her go again. He should have gone after her and explained . . . what? That he’d been manipulating her? That his pride had been stung?

Irena already knew.

The door closed quietly behind Lilith. Alejandro rose to his feet, vanishing the table into his cache.

Even if they moved beyond the past, what of the present? Irena could not compromise; he could not draw as severe a line as she did. How to win her, without yielding his honor and everything he believed was right? It was impossible.

But to accept that it was impossible? To give up?

He could not do that again, either.