Forever (13 page)

Instead his hands slid down her sides and around her hips, his fingers gripping her ass through her skirt and dragging her hips tighter to his.
Are you feeling what you do to me
, the action demanded of her.
You thought you could deny me this?

And still it was just a kiss. A fierce, unbelievable, soul-stripping kiss. It shoved aside all the bullshit they had been trying to protect themselves with and went for the throat of their craving for each other. His mouth wrestled with hers, devouring her six ways from Sunday. She felt her hair dropping down against her neck and shoulders and realized his hand was combing through it, unraveling the strict twist it had been in. His other hand, however, was on her thigh, grabbing possession of it, dragging the inside of it along his outer hip until somehow they were both wrapping around his waist, opening her up to the aggressive press of his sex
against hers. It was through layers of clothing, but it may as well have not been, that was how ferocious the flame inside of her became at the connection. She gasped into his mouth, her fingernails curling into the flesh of his arms.

“Easy,” he breathed against her lips. “God, Marissa, go easy.”

Go easy
, Jackson thought. Otherwise he was going to try to fuck her right where they stood, only a few kisses into learning each other. That was how blinding his desire was for her. Hadn’t he told himself he wasn’t going to do this? Hadn’t he told himself there was nowhere for this to go? Hadn’t he realized that she wasn’t the type of woman he could throw up against the nearest hard surface and tear a path into her with no thought for the consequences?

She will be ours one way or another …

Jackson didn’t understand what that meant. He wasn’t exactly in the right mind-set for clarity of thought. Of all the times he’d thought of getting his hands on her, even the instances he wouldn’t admit to himself, he’d never conceived the power of what his reaction would be. She smelled of summertime, hot and sultry, as though the air were so heavy with heat it clung to all of the senses. How her legs had ended up around his hips, he simply couldn’t comprehend. Had he done that? Had she? Did it matter?

Her fingertips released from that clutch on his arms and slid up into his hair, the sensation of them running through the crisply short strands sending clenching heat stripping over him like the lash of a whip. He couldn’t make himself draw his mouth away from hers, couldn’t make himself move slower and softer. He was famished for her and she was utterly divine. In feel. In taste. And, oh god, that smell. That sweet, lusty smell of her.

It was Sargent’s sudden bark of alarm that forced reality into the situation. He had spent weeks in training learning and teaching the requirements of that bark. He jolted away from her mouth, his body j to make me feel …elierking into a turn even before he was sure she had her feet back under her. He drew hard for every single breath, trying to shake the fog of need from himself, like trying to break the surface of heavy water in order to pull in much needed oxygen. He raked his eyes around the perimeter, including the sky. He would not be taken by surprise again by thinking in human, linear ways. He kept himself against her otherwise, turning front to back, keeping her pressed between his back and the armor of the thick tree behind her.

“What—?”

“Shh!” he hissed softly, his hand reaching to touch her on her hip, the act possessive and ebbing a powerful warning in case she didn’t take the verbal one in the spirit it was meant.

“Waverly!”

There it was. Distant, still out of normal human earshot, but clear as hell to him. The rest of the searchers were looking for him. And that was when he realized just how light the night sky had gotten.

“Shit,” he hissed. “I have to get out of here. They’re looking for me and Sargent, but …” He turned back to her and winced when he saw the embarrassment coloring her face, the hands that had been in his hair with such abandon now pressed to her cheeks in mortification. He didn’t have time to unravel the knots she was tying herself into as she realized just how far out of control she had allowed herself to go. If there was one thing he had learned about Marissa Anderson, it was that she despised losing control. Not only of any given situation, but most definitely of herself.

“Marissa, sunlight can kill me.” He cut straight to the chase, time too short to do otherwise.

“
What?
” she demanded. “What do you mean …?”

“Think of it like kryptonite, Marissa. The touch of the sun paralyzes my kind. We don’t turn into solid stone statues like the Gargoyles do, and therefore the only protection we can provide ourselves is whatever pitch-black room we lock ourselves into. I don’t have time to explain and I don’t have time to be debriefed by the captain before sunlight crests over the horizon.”

She must have realized that his precarious position had been brought about, largely, because of his need to deal with her. He had wasted precious time comforting or explaining or … 
touching
. He could see all of it playing over her features and wanted so badly to reassure and comfort her.

“Sargent,” she rasped out roughly, her voice still sounding full of the arousal that had so overwhelmed them both. “Tell them he’s injured.”

He couldn’t help but explode into a grin. So simple. So perfect. The caretaking and well-being of his dog was Jackson’s largest priority when in the field and everyone knew that. It would not be questioned if he dismissed everyone and hurried to take care of the canine that had been entrusted to him by the department. He commanded Sargent to his side and stooped to hoist the solid shepherd into his arms.

“You need to drive me,” he told her. “I can get us out of sight of the searchers, but then I have to … I can try to stay mobile, but the longer I fight it the more strength I lose and the longer I will need to recover. I have to … I have to …”

Trust you
. He didn’t speak the words aloud; thereby making it known how are you talking about?”an better difficult a concept it was for him. And all he could do was hope that she understood it had
nothing to do with her and everything to do with being that vulnerable.

“But I saw you in sunlight just yesterday …”

“It was the last day before Menes and I finished the Blending process. And believe me, forcing myself to keep mobile in the sunlight was getting harder and harder every damn day. Fighting it now … it’s deadly. If I don’t sleep it can be deadly, Marissa. And I haven’t slept in …”

“Oh my god!” she cried. “Why would you risk yourself like this?” she demanded.

He looked at her as if she had lost her mind.

“Marissa, there’s a child missing.”

He said it as though it was entirely self-explanatory and Marissa supposed that it was. And how could she have forgotten what had brought them out there in the first place?

Well, getting attacked by supernatural beings could easily make that happen. And she saw by the expression on his face that Jackson was torn up about that fact. He didn’t want to quit. He didn’t want to leave. He wanted to keep going until that child was found. She watched him hoist Sargent higher onto his chest, the dog’s tongue lolling happily, the shepherd perfectly comfortable being held by his master and probably much in need of a good rest himself. Jackson started making his way toward the base of operations where he had left his car, his long legs devouring ground as if he were walking over a manicured lawn, rather than through the tough, uneven bracken of the forest floor. They met Officers Hampton and Reese very shortly after they began.

“What’s going on? Where’s your radio and cell?” Hampton demanded. “We’ve been trying to reach you.”

“The radio is at the bottom of Ranger’s Cliff,” Jackson lied easily. “Sue me for butterfingers. Cell must be dead.”

Oh it was dead all right, Marissa thought. It was burned to dust along with the radio and his original uniform.

“Sargent’s hurt. He tumbled ten feet down Ranger’s Cliff. It’s a damn lucky thing I had a good hold on his leash at the time.” It was also lucky that most cops wouldn’t think it was odd that his dog was in search mode with his leash on. In woods like this the likelihood of the leash getting tangled up on trees or brush made it more efficient to remove the leash and give the animal his head.

“Is he okay?” Hampton asked, reaching to tentatively ruffle the dog’s fur. Jackson didn’t blame him. The entire precinct knew exactly how hard Sargent could bite. They’d all watched him in action these past weeks. But they should also know he was extremely obedient and well trained.

“Just a sprain I’m sure. I’m going to take the little bugger home and get us both some rest. Sawyer’s here now, right?”

“As well as two dog teams from Albany,” Hampton agreed with a nod. “You guys get out of here. Get some sleep. You’ve both been at it way too long. I’ll tell the captain.”

“I’m sure we’ll see him on the way out,” Jackson said, unable to help looking over his shoulder toward the breaking dawn.

“Oh and hey,” Hampton afraid of ag. said, nodding his head toward Marissa. “Doc, I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

That distracted Jackson just enough to look at her questioningly. She muttered a thank-you before reaching to touch his arm and urge him forward. Oh, now he
knew
he’d missed something. He was going to have to pursue the question at a later time. A much later time. He could feel it … the sun … all along the skin of his
back and legs, a tightening in anticipation of his unprotected position in the open.

They weren’t going to make it. If he fell in front of everyone … it would be really goddamn bad.

That was the moment he realized it was time for him to quit this job and go on about the business of becoming the Bodywalker he was meant to be. Becoming Menes, the pharaoh and ruler of the Bodywalkers. Living and behaving like a Bodywalker, aware of his strength and weaknesses, and leaving the world of his humanity behind him.

The understanding damn well stung him. It sucked in every major way. That wasn’t to say that the prospect of the new life awaiting him wasn’t something he could get excited about, it was just … it was just mourning the loss of that which had once made him content and comfortable.

“Come on, Jackson. Let’s get this guy some kibble and a soft bed,” Marissa said, reaching to lay her hand on his back, pushing him forward. She didn’t have to ask or urge twice. They both knew what was about to happen and how crucial it was that it didn’t happen in front of witnesses.

But what burned, what really chafed him …

She
would be protecting
him
when, in truth, she was going to need him to protect her. As they broke from the tree line and made their way quickly to Jackson’s car he made the barest of excuses before getting dog and doctor into the car and getting the car on the road. The sun broke about five minutes later and Jackson slammed on the brakes, his entire body clenching with spasms of rigidity.

“You can’t bring me to my house,” he rasped as he grabbed her by the arm and yanked her bodily into the driver’s seat. He left the seat as he put her into it, getting out and stumbling around to the other side of the car.
“Or yours. Somewhere else,” he ground out. God almighty this was painful, he realized with no little shock. He hadn’t realized it would actually hurt. “Darkness. I need the dark in order to move. You aren’t going to be able to manage my weight so you need to get me into the dark in order to get me out of the car.”

“Jackson,” she said, reaching to grip him by the wrist, making him look into her eyes. “Trust me. I understand and I will keep us both safe.”

He laughed a little painfully. “Marissa, I don’t doubt that in the least. I just … I’m just trying to remind you things have changed. I’ve changed things for you.”

“I know.”

“And I’m damn sorry for that,” he said tightly as she threw the car into gear and began to race them off of the mountain.

“I know that, too,” she assured him. “Stop fighting it. I see how much it’s hurting you. Please, Jackson, just trust me.”

She was right. The more he fought it the more em;
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div.toc_vg.it hurt. He exhaled and tried to relax, tried to let the stiffness wash over him unimpeded. The helplessness of his numbing body was terrifying. It crept over him as if he had stared Medusa in the eyes and was now turning to stone. He had once wondered how that must have felt for those heroes of myths, to have moving life bled out of them, snatched away, making them forever helpless. It terrified him that now he knew.

It was the most horrifying feeling in the world.

Ram sat up suddenly and sharply in bed, gasping for air as a sensation of absolute terror and agony whipped through his senses. Docia was asleep curled up against his warmth and strength, the darkness of their protected home keeping them safe from the bane of the sun. They had only just fallen asleep, after much flirtation
and then, finally, a great deal of fervent lovemaking. Docia had proven lately to be … how had she put it? “A total horndog.” It was yet another amusing turn of phrase in his mate’s vast repertoire of colorful phrases.

Docia came awake more slowly than he had, her hand reaching for his back as she pushed up and laid her sleepy weight against him.

“What is it?” she mumbled into his skin.

He wished that he knew.

“Nothing. Lay down, sweet, and go back to sleep.”

“Mmmno,” she said. “Not till you tell me what’s wrong.”

“A nightmare, I think,” he answered with a sigh.

“About?”

Menes. It had been about Menes. Or rather, Jackson, who was her brother. The absolute feeling that he was in grave danger was still clawing through his body. The problem was, Ram wasn’t exactly known for being clairvoyant. His power was command of the weather, the crash of thunder and the sear of lightning. The only prophetess in their house, or chantress as she was often called, was Cleo. Perhaps it had been a subconscious thing. As every day passed he’d grown more and more anxious about Jackson’s reluctance to take up Menes’s mantle of leadership, and even more so since Jackson had sent him and Docia away to ready a new household for him in New Mexico where so many of the body Politic resided. Jackson had insisted he was safe, that his anonymity protected him from Templar assassins. But the entire idea sat ill with him. He had been separated from his good friend more than long enough. And he knew Docia had been chafing for his appearance as well. She loved her brother a great deal and, although she was now a Bodywalker herself, she had been very upset about Menes taking up a position in her brother’s
body. Even she had known the risk involved, that just his existence painted a target on him as the two warring factions tried to gain the upper hand.