Authors: Denise Rossetti
Tags: #Fantasy, #General Fiction, #Science Fiction
way from his collarbones to his hairline. Sweet. “But I didn
‟
t refuse either.”
“He wasn
‟
t playing? He really wanted you?”
“Oh yes.” The deep voice was soft but very dry. “Definitely, to judge by the
evidence.”
Lise hissed. Then she lifted her chin and her lips thinned. “Well, he can
‟
t have you.”
Dax went utterly still, only the tip of his tail stirred, lashing to and fro. “Why not?”
When Lise moistened her lips with the tip of a pointed tongue, Michael couldn
‟
t
help it, his cock lifted, swelling. He winced in sympathy. If this was torture for him
observing from a distance, Dax must be in absolute agony.
“It
‟
s completely inappropriate,” said Lise at last. “Just wrong.”
“Not if I consent.” Dax took Lise
‟
s face between his palms, staring down into her
eyes. His look was no more than gently inquiring. “Should I do that, chick? I could
learn all his secrets.”
By the Twister, Daxariel the Burnished was far more devious than he first appeared.
“No,” she said, her voice a thread.
“Or you could do it. We know he desires you just as much, if not more.”
Mutely, she shook her head.
When Dax bent his head to nuzzle Lise
‟
s neck, she drew in a sharp breath. “So,” he
purred. “Why not, Lise?”
“I forbid it, Dax. Do you hear? It
‟
s a bad idea.”
Dax brushed his lips across hers. “What about this? Is this a bad idea too?”
Lise froze. “Yes,” she whispered. Then more strongly, “In fact, it
‟
s beyond stupid.
Don
‟
t you see?” She straightened, fixing him with a hard stare. “You
‟
re under my
command.”
Completely unfazed, Dax said, “Doesn
‟
t bother me at all. I know already I don
‟
t
want to do security work forever. Once we
‟
ve recovered the children, it won
‟
t be an
issue. It isn
‟
t an issue now.”
“Dax—”
“
Shh.
” He laid a finger across her lips. “It
‟
s all very simple.”
The gesture was so tender, so perfect, a derisive snarl rose in Michael
‟
s throat.
Get
on with it, man. You want what I want, what every man wants. I don’t mind suffering if I can
watch.
“What? I don
‟
t underst—”
73
Dax smiled into her eyes. “Lise.” He bent his head to fit their lips together. For a
split second, Lise froze, and then she made a gorgeous, husky sound deep in her throat
and melted against that broad chest.
Michael locked his knees and clenched his fists. Curses boiled in his head, ugly
jagged words of rage and lust and longing. He couldn
‟
t take his eyes from the
interlocked figures, the moon spotlighting their plumage like gilt illuminating a
precious manuscript, so beautiful, so sensual, so far beyond him. Gods, fuck it all to the
fuckin
‟
seven hells, it was a real first kiss, tentative as they learned each other, even a
little awkward.
But then— Oh, fuck him, Dax hauled her even closer, the bastard, his wings
tightening. Lise
‟
s nightshirt rose, skating along a pale, shapely leg. Their tails twisted
together, flexing with the rhythm of the kiss.
The impact was a punch to the gut. Michael stumbled and a tile grated. His lip
curled. Gods, it made him want to throw up. His erection had disappeared as if it had
never been. Suddenly, he couldn
‟
t bear it, couldn
‟
t permit the torture to continue for
another second, no matter the cost.
He let out a bark of laughter, the sound shockingly sharp, carrying in the night air.
“Aw,” he called, sneering. “How sweet.” Then he whirled and ran, scrambling and
leaping over the rooftops.
The two Aetherii sprang apart, wings spreading as they lifted away from the
platform.
“You go that way,” Lise said, and the air was full of the beat of mighty wings.
His heart thundering, Michael lowered himself into the narrow defile between two
buildings, braced his shoulders and legs and worked his way down to a half-open
window on the second floor. Thank the Twister he
‟
d noticed it on his way over. Old
habits died hard. He
‟
d barely slid through the narrow opening when a huge, dark
shadow slid past in the night sky outside.
“Hmpf?” said a hoarse sleepy voice. Bedsprings creaked. “What the—?”
A single step and he had one hand clamped over the man
‟
s mouth and nose, the
other on his throat. Ruthlessly, Michael exerted pressure until the body stopped
thrashing. Listening intently, he stepped back. Nothing. He let out a long breath.
Swiftly, he checked the erstwhile sleeper for a pulse. Good. No sense in collateral
damage when it wasn
‟
t necessary. Absentmindedly pocketing a fob watch and ring
from the dresser, he trotted sedately up the stairs until he reached the attic. The sky
looked clear and it was the work of moments to swing himself across three roofs to a
rather pleasant balcony blessed with a comfortable armchair and screened by numerous
potted plants.
Perfect. With a long sigh, Michael settled back and folded his hands across his
stomach. He wasn
‟
t that tired after all. He
‟
d give them half an hour or so.
74
* * * * *
Lise stalked into her bedchamber, shut the door and slumped back against it. With
a sigh that felt as if it came from the soles of her feet, she uncurled her fingers and
stared at the featherpearl gleaming faintly in her palm. Why did she have the distinct
sensation of falling from a great height? Because Aetherii never fell, not unless they
received a deathblow in battle. She was a warrior and a security specialist. Like all the
Gray, her personal world was a calm, ordered place where justice was done and wrongs
put right. Now she had six children in hideous peril and an elusive, mocking master
thief to capture. Her head spun while a squadron of
flutterbyes
did loop-the-loops in her
stomach.
Oh gods, they were
children
! Tears prickled her eyes. How could anyone—?
Her imagination was driving her mad. No, for a few minutes at least she wouldn
‟
t
let herself picture what was happening to them. Think of Dax instead, her friend, her
colleague. Dear Dax—
Rip the Veil, he
‟
d kissed her! She squeezed her eyes shut, wrapping her tail around
her waist like a little girl in search of comfort. What was worse, she
‟
d been mad enough,
undisciplined enough, to kiss him back. His lips had been so soft, so firm, so perfect, the
temptation right
there
—beyond her to resist. He hadn
‟
t invaded, hadn
‟
t thrust his
tongue down her throat. He
‟
d nibbled and licked—explored
.
She
‟
d been able to taste
his wonder and delight and desire, her own rising to match it. The slide of his strong
tail against hers. She shivered. Gods, he
‟
d turned her bones to water.
And he
‟
d said, he
‟
d said…that Michael…
Lise closed her fist over the featherpearl
and pressed it to her lips. Whether it was to
stifle the moan rising in her throat or to imagine the warm touch of the thief
‟
s skin, she
couldn
‟
t have said. But she was angry and tired, full of joy and sick terror and urgency,
just so damn confused. There
‟
d been no sign of Michael, though despite their
exhaustion, she and Dax had flown the city streets, using the standard grid pattern so
they missed nothing. Well, nothing except a godsbedamned thief.
He and his jeering voice had disappeared as if into thin air, but he must have heard
everything. She shivered. Listened to every word, watched every move. Veil-it, watched
them kiss. Infuriating, but it wouldn
‟
t be so bad if the scene Dax had described would
stop plaguing her. Gods, it was so vivid, she could
see
them together—Dax chained to
his bed, magnificent chest heaving with fury, Michael astride his thighs, all lithe,
teasing wickedness. Temptation incarnate.
The thief wanted him, Dax had said in that deep velvet rumble.
Definitely, to judge
by the evidence
. Oh gods, Michael must have been hard for Dax to say that, surely? She
hadn
‟
t had the courage to ask.
They were both so beautiful, each in his own way—polar opposites, night and day,
good and bad. How could she want two men so badly? Her brain must be disordered.
Perhaps she should pay Trilgeriel the healer a visit. She hadn
‟
t felt like this since her
adolescence. By the time she reached adulthood, she was a perfect Gray, taking her
75
pleasure leavened with a good dose of control, sex with her lovers a matter of mutual
satisfaction and friendship.
Rip the Veil, it had worked for her. Look at what she
‟
d accomplished, where she
was.
But now? By the seven icy hells, she
‟
d never felt so muddled, at such a loss, in her
life. There was something wrong with her. There had to be, because the thought of Dax
and Michael together wasn
‟
t repellent. Gods, not at all. Liquid heat tingled between her
thighs. Her breath hitched.
Six of Dax
‟
s featherpearls against the earring and the use of the thief
‟
s body for a
night.
The instant the words had rumbled out of Dax
‟
s chest, she
‟
d been swamped by an
instinctive reaction, a visceral force, overwhelmingly possessive. Just two words.
No,
mine!
No more than a split second later, she
‟
d been rocked to her foundation. It was
shocking enough that she
‟
d thought of Dax like that, but that wasn
‟
t the only problem,
was it?
Because the thought had encompassed them both.
Glaring up into Dax
‟
s intent green-gold gaze, she
‟
d snapped,
Well, he can’t have you!
Thank the Veil, she
‟
d had the presence of mind to bite back the rest.
Not without me.
It had been one hell of a close call. As it was, the words still echoed in her mind like
the boom of a great bronze bell.
Not without me
.
Oh please, not without me.
By the Veil, how had this happened? It was insane. No one had ever made her so
furious as quickly as Michael, master thief of Sere. No one had insulted, intrigued,