Fusion (12 page)

“I can get them,” Sasha answered.

“Text them to me. I’ll check them tonight when I teleport out of this hell hole,” I said. “Don’t tell Joseph or anyone else you did, okay?”

The skin between her brows pinched, but she nodded in agreement.

“Is there anything else?” I asked, needing to get back to my cell so I could work out this puzzle in my head. Nothing made sense, nothing seemed to fit together. Emma being followed by Inheritors. Those Inheritors disappearing in the middle of nowhere.

“Your trackers overheard one of them on the phone,” Sasha said, swallowing. “They addressed the person on the other side as Troy.”

And now, the whole puzzle came together. All the pieces fit due to one name pulling them together. Troy. I didn’t have to guess what his motive was for tailing Emma. Payback. And I didn’t have to wonder what would have happened had I not been there that night to intervene. They would have killed her.

“Damn it,” I cursed, leaning forward and hanging my head. “I really should have killed that bastard when I had the chance.”

“Joseph said you all could work out a mission plan tonight, but he wanted you to have this information right away,” she said, shoving off the desk. “And I didn’t exactly have to be asked twice.”

There wasn’t enough consciousness to process Sasha’s undercurrents; I was consumed with dread and worry and helplessness. I was sweltering in my worry for Emma. A minute or two of quiet passed between us. I did nothing but tap my foot over the floor as my mind raced over options and plans and revenge.

“Wow,” Sasha said at last. “You really do love this girl. The unlandable Patrick Hayward has been landed. I guess it’s time to pull out the black in my wardrobe.” Coming towards me, she rested her hand on the side of my face and smiled. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” I replied, mustering up a smile.

A knock sounded on the other side of the door.

Lifting a finger, Sasha started to shift, the transformation starting at her feet this time and moving up her body.

“You rap on that door one more time, Officer Nicks, and you’ll be sharing a cell tonight!” the Sasha’fied warden before me hollered at the door.

“Impressive,” I said, popping out of my seat. “Thanks for the information, Sasha. I better get back to my kennel.” Giving her a wave, I turned to exit.

“Patrick,” Sasha called out in Warden Drumheller’s voice. It was creepy hearing his voice lined with the want Sasha inflected into it.

“Yeah?” I said, spinning around. Warden Drumheller’s body towered a few inches in front of me. I was so startled I didn’t have time to respond to Sasha’s next move. Grabbing my face, Sasha planted Warden Drumheller’s lips firmly against mine.

That was enough to jolt me out of my stupor. Shoving the hulking form away, I wiped my mouth on the backside of my arm.

“Sasha!” I hollered, doing another wipe. “Was that your idea of a sick joke?”

Grinning at me, Warden Drumheller moved back behind his desk. “That was my idea of a goodbye kiss, love,” he said with a wink. “You’ve got it bad for this girl. The kind of bad that never goes away.”

“I’m going to be forever scarred after that, Sasha,” I replied, wishing I had a toothbrush so I could scrape my tongue too. “But you always knew how to make an impression.”

“You too,” she replied, Drumheller’s voice as soft as I imagined it ever would be.

“Thanks for the info,” I said, twisting my cuffed hands over the doorknob. “It was nice of you to agree to come.”

Drumheller winked at me. Another reason I needed to scrub my brain out with bleach. “I offered,” he said right before clearing his throat and putting on that Marine face of his. “We’re done here, Nicks!”

I stepped aside from the door as it swung open.

“Anything else, sir?” Nicks asked, a look of satisfaction in his eyes like he was convinced whatever I’d deserved, I’d just gotten.

“That will be all,” Drumheller replied, reviewing something on his desk.

Cocking his neck to the side, Nicks waited for me.

“Oh, Nicks? There is one thing,” Drumheller called out, snapping his fingers.

“Yes, sir?” Nicks replied, rolling his shoulders back.

Meeting his eyes, Drumheller said, “Slap yourself across the face. Hard.”

Nicks forehead lined. “Sir?”

“Don’t ask me to repeat myself,” Drumheller replied in that stone flat face, although I could detect the playfulness in his eyes that was a paramount of Sasha.

Glaring over at me, Nicks lifted his hand and walloped himself across the cheek. The sound echoed down the hall.

I choked on my laughter. I’d pay a million bucks to see that again.

“There,” Drumheller said, biting the side of his cheek, trying to keep the explosion of laughter contained. “Now that will be all.”

Shooting a quick thumb’s up at the desk, I exited the room, passing a confused Nicks, and tried again not to laugh at the flaming red handprint across his cheek.

This time, I couldn’t keep it contained.

CHAPTER EIGHT

If I thought the days had crept by before, I was wrong. Time refused to move the remainder of the day. Learning my girl was being all but hunted by the likes of Troy and his scum while I was “trapped” in jail was a rare form of torture. The only thing that got me through the day was the knowledge Joseph was with her. I’d trust my life to any one of my brothers‌—‌even the life I cared for more than my own.

When the officer shouted, “Lights out!” and Mr. Rogers’s snoring symphony immediately followed, I was out of there. It wasn’t even a conscious thought anymore; it was just where I needed to be. I felt her pulling me and I pushed and then I was there.

“Looking dapper tonight,” Joseph called out from the Emma and Julia’s computer chair, followed by a whistle.

I’d been in such a hurry to get here, I’d forgotten to make my normal layover in my closet. I was about to correct my mistake when a form shifted on the bed and I knew it wouldn’t have mattered if I was standing here buck naked‌—‌I wasn’t going anywhere.

“He looks dapper every night,” Emma said, slamming her book shut and bouncing off the bed towards me.

I don’t know if she leapt into them or I threw her into them, but she was in my arms before they had a chance to ache that she wasn’t in them.

“How could I miss you that much in one day?” she said against my neck.

Nuzzling my face into her hair, I smiled. “It’s because it was me you were missing.”

She chuckled, her chest vibrating against mine.

“I’m going to get out of here before stuff starts breaking,” Joseph said, giving the chair a final spin before leaping out of it. “It looks like she’s in good hands for the night.” Clapping his hand over my shoulder, he gave it a squeeze. “Give me a ring when my body guard services are needed and you’re ready to talk about the intel from earlier. I’ll be close.”

“Thanks, brother,” I said as he closed the door behind him. I hadn’t even had a chance to give him a hard time for sending Sasha to deliver a message half a dozen other Shifters could have, but I suppose Emma and my current state of privacy was his way of making amends.

“So I take it you’ve worked out some things in your head?” I said, lowering her to the ground, but not about to let her out of my arms.

“More like quite a few things, I think,” she answered, blowing the hair out of her face.

I knew I should be concerned with what she’d worked out, but all I really cared about right now was what that meant for us. Did the riddles she solved leave room for me in her life?

“Where does that leave us?” I asked, trying to keep my voice unemotional.

“Here,” she said. “Together.”

“Together as in right now, or as in together, dot dot dot?” I was starting to sound like an insecure girl.

“Together as in dot dot dot. Dot,” she said, grinning up at me. “In your case dot, dot, dot infinity, mine more like dot dot dot to the ripe old age of ninety-two.”

This was why. This was why I’d been reduced to a blubbering, heartsick maniac. To see the woman I loved standing in front of me with a worry free face, admitting her love to me.

“I love you,” I said, because right now, there was nothing else to say or do.

Popping on her tip-toes, she kissed the corner of my mouth. “I love you,” she whispered, skimming her lips over mine and kissing the other corner.

She was wearing down my defenses, what few if any I had when it came to her body challenging mine, but something was more important than following Emma down this lip skimming, kissing path.

“Em,” I said, bracing her arms and setting my jaw. I needed a deep breath and to imagine my ancient primary school marm naked on a cold day.

Yeah, that helped. A bit.

“Yeah?” she said, looking at me like I was the crazy man I was. The old Patrick wouldn’t put the brakes on a make-up/make out session for anything.

“Would you do something for me?” I asked, taking another slow breath through my teeth.

“Depends on what that something is.”

Of course it did. Why, in all the world’s women, did I have to pick the most stubborn of them?

“I need you to disappear for a while. Lay low until we can figure out what the hell a bunch of Immortals I don’t trust as far as I can throw them want with you.” I had more to say, a whole case in my defense I’d outlined in my mind this afternoon, but all that went out the mind’s window when her face fell.

“I can’t do that, Patrick,” she said, looking at me like I didn’t know who she was at all. That look cut right through me. “I’m sorry, but I won’t let fear rule my life anymore. It’s already claimed too much of it.”

Her voice was so strong, her expression so betrayed, I almost broke right there, but I didn’t. I had to protect her. At any and all costs. Loving someone meant you protected them.

“Don’t make me throw you over my back, Emma Scarlett,” I said, giving her the slanted little smile that made her melt.

Except for this one instance.

“Then let me make my own decisions,” she said, taking a step back and crossing her arms over her chest.

I bit my tongue before I said something I’d regret. Lacing my fingers over the back of my neck, I spun around, wanting to bang my forehead against the wall until everything made sense again.

“I’m safe, Patrick,” she said, coming up behind me and resting a hand on my shoulder. “I’ve never felt so safe in my life.”

Then the girl had a screwed up definition of the word safe. It was certainly not staying vulnerable in a known location for an army of Immortal beings that could snap her neck with the slightest muscle twitch. Safe was not when I was trapped behind bars more hours of the day than I wasn’t, unable to protect her from anything that came within an arm’s length that I didn’t recognize.

If I was honest with myself though, safe wasn’t being in any part of my world.

“You know I’m fighting every instinct not to take you right now and hide you somewhere I know no one will find you, right?” I said, tilting my head back to stare at the ceiling because I couldn’t look at her right now. I couldn’t look at everything I could lose in the span of a breath.

“I know,” she answered, spinning me around to her. She waited, not saying or doing anything else until my eyes shifted down to hers.

“What would you do if you were in my situation?” I asked, giving this one more round.

Her hands molded around my face, their warmth melding into me. “I’d trust you.”

And that was why so many songs, stories, poems, and movies were made about love. Because it was so damn confusing when you really looked at the fine print, but so simple when you just let it into your life without questions. Because I loved Emma, I needed to both protect and trust her. How in the hell did I do that in this situation?

Loving Emma was easy, as simple as anything I’d set out to do; it was deciding how to convey that love where it got all screwy. Was protection or trust more important? How would I rate them on the scale of everything love encompassed? How would she rate them? Where they mutually inclusive or exclusive entities? Could I implement one without the other?

My head was about to burst from the pretzel of questions and confusion twisting and weaving its way around, so I took the surest course of action to halt all considerations from a man’s mind.

Grabbing Emma, I crushed my body into hers. Her startle of surprise was silenced by my mouth. My hands ended on her hips, my fingers digging into her body. Her hands roamed up my arms, clasping behind my neck as she pulled me closer. Her entire length fixed against mine, like every peak and valley of hers were intended to fit mine.

Her mouth parted mine, her tongue exploring my mouth. Some sound escaped from my throat and, whether it was a groan, sigh, or moan, the interpretation was the same. I craved more. I wanted more. I needed everything. All of her.

My hands skimmed beneath her shirt, pulling the hem with my fingers as they trailed up her body. Our mouths broke only for the space of time it took to peel the shirt over her head. Then her hands were at my collar, ripping each button of my jumpsuit free. I had one fleeting thought that I really should have dressed better for the occasion, but it was promptly extinguished when her chest shoved against my now bare one.

Tearing the sleeves free from my arms, Emma’s fingers trailed back up my bare arms, exploring every part of me like her tongue continued to do to mine.

Letting my body do all the thinking, I pressed her back towards her bed because I knew I couldn’t stay vertical for much longer from what her body was doing to mine. Every muscle was tensed, every sense on alert, like my entire body was standing on a ledge, ready to fall and going to do nothing to stop it.

Lifting her, I rested Emma on the bed, immediately following. And now, with gravity pressing my body harder against hers, I felt things I couldn’t believe I hadn’t in two centuries of existence. The way a woman’s softness complemented a man’s hardness, the way Emma’s heartbeat burst into my chest like it was my own, the way desire overtook every other emotion at the moment, the way her hips curved into mine.

Emma’s mouth left mine, working its way down my neck, her hands coming around and drawing patterns onto my stomach. Taking the chance to catch the breath I didn’t need to survive, but seemed to need in this instance, I moved my hands from behind her neck. One trailed along the fabric of her bra, diving into the cup at the first opportunity. The other moved for the button of her jeans. I couldn’t take anything, clothing included, being between us right now.