Grave Vengeance (20 page)

He continued to murmur in Russian, the words pouring out so low and fast she couldn’t translate them. But his voice sounded raw, and husky, and filled with so much unchained emotion it filled her to bursting.

That amazing mouth of his moved lower, and when he stopped to suck on her nipples, she nearly melted into the mattress. With a moan she arched her back, offering herself to him, silently begging him to take more. The ache between her legs grew deeper, more demanding. When he finally released his grip on her wrists, she buried her fingers in his hair.

“In. Now,” she panted.

“So impatient,
zaika moya
.” He looked up, and the joy on his face touched a part of her that she didn’t even know existed. “Good things come to those who wait.”

“Yeah, well if I wait much longer I’ll spontaneously combust.”

His chest shook with quiet laughter. One of his hands skimmed past her belly and slipped between her thighs. She gasped, and her body jerked. Waves of pleasure drenched her senses as her head hit the pillow and her eyes drifted shut.

“Don’t you dare close your eyes,” he growled. “You’ll miss the best part.”

How the hell did he expect her to do that? Somehow, she managed to open her eyes and found him watching her with pure primal lust. But mixed with the lust she also saw need, and yearning, and emotions so strong it made her heart swell in her chest.

“Much better.” Two fingers began to move inside her, stroking the one spot that never failed to drive her wild.

“Oh, God.”

“God’s got nothing to do with it.” He kissed a path down her body, pausing to worship her belly, her hips, and the tender flesh of her inner thighs. The rasp of beard stubble against her bare skin made her tremble with pure excitement. He positioned his shoulders between her spread legs, his breath so hot, so close.

“Quit teasing, dammit.” Try as she might, she couldn’t keep the pleading from her voice.

Dmitri didn’t respond. For a long moment he simply stared, the hunger intense in his eyes. A low rumble vibrated from deep in his chest right before his mouth replaced his hand and her mind went totally blank.

She tried to speak, but only a throaty moan came out. In her defense, it was physically impossible to form words when he was making her feel so damn good. The last of her thoughts dissolved in the erotic heat twisting tighter and tighter inside her body.

His fingers dug into her hips, holding her firmly in place. All the while he watched her with an intensity that branded his essence onto her soul. He was focused, relentless, driving her to an orgasm so strong she saw spots in front of her eyes.

The tremors echoed inside her, leaving every muscle loose and relaxed. She’d barely caught her breath before he moved up her body and pushed into her with one swift, powerful thrust.

She gasped. He cursed.

His shoulders rose and fell with each labored breath. Their eyes locked, and his face filled with such tenderness it nearly brought tears to her eyes.

“Ya tebya lyublyu.” I love you.
As soon as the words tumbled from her lips, she worried she’d spoken them too soon. There was no use in denying the way she felt, but what if he didn’t share the sentiment? Talk about awkward.

Dmitri froze. For what seemed like minutes his expression remained unchanged, and her worry turned to dread. Maybe she should just tell him that she got caught up in the moment and didn’t really mean what she said. Yeah, that might work. He’d probably be happy to accept the lame excuse, and then she’d be able to look him in the eyes tomorrow morning.

But before she could speak, his features softened into a look of pure masculine satisfaction.
“Oh, zaika moya. Ya lyublyu tebya vsyei dushoi.” Oh, my bunny. I love you with all my soul.

He kissed her again: longer, hotter, deeper, and endlessly tender. She tasted herself on his lips, his tongue, mixed with his own delicious flavor. Then his hips began to move in a deep, steady rhythm that set her body on fire.

“Moan for me, Gwenya.” His teeth scraped against her neck. “I love the sounds you make when I please you.”

He pulled almost all the way out of her and then pushed back in hard, and a strangled moan slipped past her lips.

“Oh, yes, like that. Again.”

He did it again, and so did she. Then she tightened her inner muscles around his cock and it was his turn to moan.

The scent of sex clung to the air, their bodies slick with sweat. He quickened the pace, from slow and steady to hard and fast. She rocked her hips to match his movements, and the heat and pleasure engulfed her.

Sensations layered on top of sensations, all blending together in a moment of perfection. Lost in the moment, she almost didn’t notice when his mental presence brushed against her soul. No, that wasn’t right. It was more than just his mental presence; it was his
actual soul
touching hers. Her own soul instinctively reached out, clasping his in a lover’s embrace. Tangled together, their boundaries blurred until it was impossible to tell where she ended and he began. She felt the true depth of his passion, his pleasure, and his absolute love as the climax rocked both of their bodies.

“Dimusha!” She lacked the breath to say anything more.

He grunted, a low guttural sound, his face a portrait of agony and ecstasy. His jaw clenched and his neck muscles tightened. Arms trembling, he collapsed on top of her, his face buried in the crook of her neck.

They stayed that way for the longest time, mindless in the wake of euphoria. She didn’t care about the sweat gluing their skin together, or the fact his weight was starting to restrict her ability to breathe. For all she cared, they could stay like this forever.

When her muscles finally started working again, she reached up and stroked a hand down his sweat-slicked back. A low rumble of appreciation vibrated in his chest.

“I love the way your entire body shudders when you come,” he said softly, his face still pressed against her neck. Raising his head, he kissed her brow, her cheeks, the tip of her nose, before settling in for a toe-curling kiss.

“That was—I don’t—” She struggled for right words to describe what they just shared. “Have you ever—”

“No.” He rolled off her and nestled her close. “Never. I don’t even know how it happened.”

“What do you think it means?”

“It means you belong to me, Gwenya.” He kissed the curve of her ear. “And I belong to you.”

“Really?” The notion made her ridiculously happy.

“It’s the only possible explanation.” His voice sounded sluggish and sleepy. “Even now, I feel the echo of your soul inside my body.”

And she could feel his as well. The connection touched her so profoundly, so completely. It soothed her soul, swelled her heart with joy, and gave her a feeling of total contentment. In all her life, she’d never experienced anything like it.

Dmitri curled an arm around her waist and nudged her closer. The warmth of his body enveloped her, and her limbs grew impossibly heavy. Giving in to the pull of exhaustion, she closed her eyes and drifted off into a deep, restful sleep.

T
he next morning was even warmer than the last. Not a single cloud darkened the sky, and most of the snow had melted.

“Do you think Samuel messed with the weather?” Gwen asked as she sat on the bed and laced up her shoes.

Dmitri shook his head. “No. At least not directly.” The bastard was powerful, but even he had limits. He’d admitted that much himself. The change in weather was either pure coincidence or he’d pulled a few strings with one of Fate’s kindred so they could finally leave the cabin.

Finished packing, Dmitri powered up his phone. Too bad Gwen’s cell was a different model and incompatible with his charger. He scrolled through his messages—six from Adam, one from Ruby, and two from David Anderson. There were also close to a dozen missed calls, all from a number he didn’t recognize.

He was about to stuff the phone in his pocket when a ring signaled an incoming call.

“Who is it?” Gwen asked as she rounded the bed.

Dmitri checked the caller ID. It was the same number from the missed calls. “I don’t know. Probably a telemarketer.”

Gwen leaned over to peer at the screen. She frowned. “It’s Patrick.”

“How the fuck did he get my number?” Only the reapers in his unit and a few others he’d worked with over the years knew his contact information.

Gwen gave him a level stare. “Hey, don’t look at me. I didn’t know your number until last week.” She gestured toward the phone. “Might as well find out what he wants.”

Dmitri accepted the call and switched it to speaker so Gwen could hear their conversation. “Talk.”

“Hello to you too,” Ziegler said, his tone so sickeningly sweet it turned Dmitri’s stomach. “I’ve been trying to get hold of you for days. I take it you’ve finally found your way out of the cold?”

Was Ziegler actually trying to chat him up? He couldn’t possibly be that stupid. “Spare me the bullshit. What do you want?”

Ziegler audibly sighed. “I’d like to settle our differences so we can all move on with our lives. And since Gwen refuses to take my calls, I’m appealing to your better judgment.”

“You think she’s being unreasonable?” Dmitri barked out a laugh. He could have told Ziegler that Gwen’s phone was dead, but decided to let the asshole think she was blowing him off. “She’s not the one trying to mount an insurrection.”

“She doesn’t understand my vision!”

“Guess she’s not the only one.”

Patrick fell silent for a few seconds. “Well, you may be as stubborn as Gwen, but perhaps you’re willing to trade?”

“Doubtful. You don’t have anything I want.”

“You’ll change your mind when you hear what I bring to the table.”

“Oh? And what’s that?” Dmitri asked, not bothering to mask his disbelief.

“Your wife.”

Those two words ripped the air from his lungs and shot his blood pressure up by a good fifty points. He gripped the phone so hard the casing creaked. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Gwen standing by the bed, her face as pale as a corpse. “I don’t have a wife,” he bit out.

“Not now, but you did when you were mortal. Elena, am I right?”

The sound of her name released a flood of bad memories. “How the hell do you know about Elena?”

“I’ve been hacking since I was in high school. There’s nothing I can’t find with a computer.” The cockiness in Ziegler’s tone made Dmitri’s blood boil. “It must have sucked to have your wife turn on you like that. The records I recovered from the Pit were sketchy, but it sounds like their methods were barbaric.” He paused. “I bet you thought about her every day while they tortured you.”

Yes, he had, day in and day out. He’d rip Ziegler’s lungs out for dredging up the memory.

“Would you like to know where to find her?” Patrick asked. “I’ll trade you the artifact for her location.”

“He’s lying,” Gwen hissed from a few feet away. “Don’t listen to him.”

“I never lie.” A note of anger bled into Ziegler’s words. “You’ve been trying to find her for years, haven’t you? I would if I were in your shoes. She deserves to suffer for what she did, and I know exactly where you can find her. All I want in return is the artifact.”

Thoughts of vengeance darkened Dmitri’s mind. For decades, he’d dreamed of the day when he could wrap his hands around Elena’s throat and choke the life from her body.

“Don’t do it,” Gwen warned. She grabbed for the phone but he held it beyond her reach.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” Dmitri asked. “Why should I believe you found her when I couldn’t?”

For years, he’d tried. He’d even made it into a few classified government databases, but he never found any information related to Elena.

“Because you weren’t looking in the right places.” The sound of typing clicked in the background. “I have her file right here. Elena Vladimirovna Rodnina. That was her name, wasn’t it?”

Dmitri’s
vision flashed red. “Yes.” That was her name before coming to the United States.

“Of course, the U.S. government gave her a whole new identity after she defected. I can give you that name, as well as her whereabouts. It’s more than a fair trade.”

It was so tempting. To finally have closure after all these years . . .

“Dammit, Dmitri—” Gwen made another grab for the phone. Their hands collided, knocking the cell across the room.

He might have been stronger, but she was quicker. She vaulted over the bed, dove for the phone, and disconnected the call.

“Are you crazy?” Anger flashed through his veins as he grabbed for her. “You had no right to do that!”

“I have every right!” Dodging his grasp, she opened the door, heaved the phone into the parking lot, and slammed the door closed. After flipping the bolt, she spun around and glared up at him. “Do you have any idea what your petty little quest for vengeance could cost us?”

“I don’t give a fuck!” Fury seethed from every pore, the taste foul in his mouth. If he wanted, he could just shove her out of the way, but he hoped it wouldn’t come to that. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to be betrayed by someone you love? To have it gnaw at you day after day, week after week, year after fucking year?”

Her expression crumpled. “No. But I guess I’m about to find out.” An eerie calm seemed to wash over her as she stepped away from the door. “Go ahead. Turn the clock back fifty years, and turn your back on everything we’ve built.”

Dmitri stalked out of the room, and the door slammed shut behind him. He heard the sound of something breaking inside and wondered what she’d thrown against the wall. A hollow feeling settled in his chest as he descended the stairs and retrieved his phone from the parking lot.

The display was cracked in three separate places but the phone still worked when he turned it on. He scrolled through his new messages, which consisted of two texts from Ziegler, promising to fulfill his part of the bargain if Dmitri coughed up the artifact.

Damn, it was so fucking tempting. For so long he’d dreamed of the day when he could even the score with his former wife. The desire for payback raged in his blood, so strong it nearly consumed him. But now there was Gwen, and their involvement complicated matters.

Warring emotions clashed within him as he stared at the cracks in the pavement. Love. Hate. Grief. Confusion. He wanted vengeance so badly he could almost taste it. But what good was retaliation for past misdeeds if it destroyed all hope for the future?

Dmitri let out a frustrated growl as he raked a hand through his hair. Deep down, he knew what he had to do, but it would damn near kill him to do it. After blowing out a heavy breath, he squared his shoulders and strode back to the room.

Gwen was sitting on the bed with her head in her hands. The bedside lamp was smashed to pieces. The artifact was next to his bag on the floor.

“Take it,” she said, sounding bitter and defeated. Shoulders slumped, she wouldn’t even look in his direction when he sat beside her on the bed. “Just take it and get the hell out.”

Needing the connection, Dmitri placed a hand on her back. “I’m not going anywhere.”

When she looked up at him, her eyes were bloodshot and puffy. “For now. What about next time?”

Good question, and one he really didn’t want to answer. “There may not be a next time.”

Gwen turned her head away. “She’s always going to be in the back of your mind, isn’t she?”

“I don’t know.” Yes, he did. He thought about Elena every day. Every time he thought about trusting someone. Every time he ached with loneliness. Every time he wondered if loving a woman was worth the inevitable heartbreak.

Dmitri reached for Gwen’s hand and twined his fingers with hers. He ran his thumb along her smooth skin, the simple contact settling his nerves. With his free hand, he retrieved the phone from his back pocket and placed it on top of her thigh.

“Hold on to that. In case I change my mind.”

They sat in silence for the longest time, until Gwen finally pulled her hand away and stood. Weariness tinged her voice, her face, her posture, as she tucked the phone in her bag. “Come on. We better get moving.”

Confused, he looked up at her through narrowed eyes. “Where are we going?”

“Miami. If Patrick’s offering to trade the artifact for Elena, he’s probably close to her location.” The smooth column of her throat moved when she swallowed. “And while we’re there, I’m taking you to see her.”

 

Aside from the occasional one-word response, Dmitri hadn’t spoken during the trip back to Florida. Not while they changed planes in Washington D.C., or when they rented the sedan at Orlando International. There was too much to think about, too much to plot. His mind was a twisted knot of emotions, so tangled he couldn’t pull them apart.

After leaving the airport, Dmitri drove north on the expressway. This was his turf, and he knew every road better than the back of his hand. He checked the rearview mirror every couple of minutes to make sure they weren’t being followed. At two in the morning, there wasn’t much traffic, which made watching for a tail even easier.

Just when he thought he’d gotten over his anger, Elena came back into the picture. The thought of seeing her after so many years poured salt on the wounds that had never fully healed. The memories played in his mind like they’d happened yesterday, including Gwen’s part in the betrayal. Deep down, he realized that wasn’t fair, but he couldn’t help the way he felt.

“I still think we should have flown straight to Miami,” Gwen said, breaking his train of thought.

Dmitri slanted a glance in her direction before returning his attention to the road. “We’ve already discussed this.” If Patrick anticipated them coming to Miami, they could be walking straight into a trap. And while Gwen argued they could buy more weapons in Miami, Dmitri insisted on stopping in Orlando for his own.

Of course, it was possible his house was under surveillance, so instead he headed to the home of one of his fellow reapers.

The cul-de-sac was set deep in a sprawling subdivision, across from a playground and park. This late, most of the lights in the neighborhood were out, and nobody was outside. He pulled the rental car in front of a row of condominiums and cut the engine.

“You don’t have to go in,” Dmitri said as he unfastened his seat belt.

“I know, but I want to.” Yawning, she got out of the car and fell in step with him as they walked toward the front entrance.

Dmitri knocked on the door. Knocked louder a minute later.

“Hold on, I’m coming,” a man said from inside the home.

The light by the door switched on, bright enough to illuminate the porch and front yard. There was the distinct sound of a lock being turned, and then the door swung open.

Jack Deverell stood on the other side, his eyes heavy-lidded and his hair sticking up in ten different directions. Shirtless, shoeless, and with a distinct bite mark on his shoulder, he looked far from thrilled by their visit. Not that Dmitri blamed him. They weren’t exactly on the best of terms.

Jack stared at Dmitri. Dmitri stared right back. The air between them seemed to drop a good twenty degrees.

“Where’s Ruby?” Dmitri asked.

“Asleep. What the hell do you want?”

“I’m here to pick up my stuff.”

Jack’s dark eyebrows knitted together. “What stuff?”

“Personal stuff. Ruby will know what I’m talking about.”

Annoyance radiated off Jack in waves. If Gwen weren’t there, he probably would have slammed the door in Dmitri’s face. “You’re kidding me, right? Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“Three twenty-seven. The sooner you let me in, the sooner I can get my things and go.”

Jack’s eyes flashed silver for a second or two before dimming back to their natural brown. It was obvious he wanted to tell Dmitri to fuck off, but instead he stepped back and opened the door wider. “Sure, why the hell not? It’s not like we need sleep or anything.”