Tame the Storm: 2 (Cinder Mated) (8 page)

“Fuck,” he muttered and stared out the windshield. Staying at a hotel would be a good idea. After a day of working, he’d gotten his wits back and needed to keep them. He’d only thought of her about a few dozen times.

“Ah, damn.” His mind might have calmed, but an anxious need had built over him through the day and it was making him jumpy. If nothing else, it was time to help figure out what had gone down in those mountains. He couldn’t keep hiding.

The ride home didn’t take long.

At the end of the driveway, outside the Cinder five-car garage, Griffin took a swig of water and brushed a hand over his forehead. It didn’t quench the thirst he’d had all day. The landscape truck rolled into its spot. He climbed out and strolled around the garage to the potting shed. There’d been a special plant he’d spliced and if he didn’t make sure it stayed in the perfect conditions, it wouldn’t take. It wasn’t much of a delay from the real concerns he needed to get back to, but he had to admit the few minutes of respite helped him to regain his cool.

After a quick check, he rolled his hand over the pot. A small cloud formed and misted the leaves. The effort to create the small precipitation furrowed across his forehead. It shouldn’t have taken any effort.

A movement caught at him and he glanced to the sky. A cloud several feet wide—and definitely with his name practically written on it—huddled over the mansion. What the hell? He hadn’t put that there, but there it was, visual proof his powers were fritzing. And proof that he couldn’t ignore.

In a streak of insight, he remembered that trim above the pussy he wanted above all others. It’d been blonde. Not brown. How hadn’t he noticed or remembered something that vital until now?

The frustrating woman had dyed her hair. He’d been talking himself out of this mess, this damnable attraction, by telling himself he knew his talent-partner was blonde, from a fucking dream. But now he couldn’t hold onto that fragile excuse. All this meant one thing.

It’d finally happened to him. To the worst woman possible. Now he had to figure out how to get out of this clusterfuck.

He had to figure out just what it meant to mate a syphon.

“Fuck me.”

She’d just taken off her shirt on the mansion grounds and humped a freaking twister. How could she get off on a swirl of air?

Astrid stumbled through the wide patio doors and into the house, nearly running to escape Griffin and what he’d done to her body. What she’d let happen.

She’d righted her clothes best she could, but she was missing a button on her pants, one of the ones with her new signature icon. Tugging them up, she took a breath and tried to place where she’d ended up when she’d been nearly blind with panic.

She was in a posh living room. Along one wall a gilt-edged mirror reflected the outside, balancing a showy wealth with a reminder of the beauty outside. The antiques were quite real, and costly. The fabrics, well chosen.

Her mother had always been purposeful with everything from being choosy over Astrid’s private school to pre-approving all of her friends—all proper young para-talents of a non-excitable nature. Their house reflected that meticulous construction. Conventional. Precisely decorated. Nothing ornate or showy.

All of Astrid’s boyfriends had been arranged, which meant, they’d all been strictly hands-off. No surprise she’d never had an orgasm with a man. Until today. She shoved that memory aside, fast. Any thought of Griffin blew her concentration and she forgot why she was here and what she was doing. What she needed to do was find the office and sneak a peek into the files for all the names and addresses of CTF mages.

“There you are.”

Astrid startled and gripped her waistband, leery of her pants sliding down without the button. She must look a fright, the way the wind had blown her this way and that. Brought her to orgasm.

Heat washed her cheeks and she turned to face Ray Cinder.

“Went outside for fresh air,” she rushed to reassure him.

“Looks like you got caught in some wind.” He raised a brow and frowned.

Silence answered him because she sure wasn’t going to say what blurted in her head,
I had orgasm by tornado
.

“If you’re rested now…” He paused again for her explanation but she clamped her mouth shut. “Then it’s time we talked about what happened on that mountain. There were a lot of innocent para-talents endangered.”

That got her mouth un-stuck. “We never did anything to hurt anyone.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yes. Absolutely.” She nodded and squared her shoulders. The CTF were the ones who took powers and hurt others. Neil’s group hadn’t done anything—except plan to talk the banshee into joining them before moving on to the rest of CTF. The other plans, the Cinders didn’t know those yet. And the para-talents from the camp were innocent of any of those details.

A woman interrupted by sliding into the room. Astrid went rigid. The short, curvy para-talent stopped in her tracks and frowned at Astrid. She spoke to Ray but never took her hard stare from Astrid.

“What’s wrong with Griffin? He growled at me the whole way back, yesterday. Almost wouldn’t get in the car. I know he has a problem with—”

“Susan, meet Astrid.” Ray interrupted. “And don’t worry. I’m sure what’s wrong with him is the same as what’s wrong with us all. Vince betrayed us.”

“I’m not so positive that’s what’s got Griffin in a stir.” Susan gave Astrid an up-and-down assessment and said slowly, “I think it might be another syphon in the house.”

“So you’re the one.” Weak-kneed, Astrid stumbled back. Fear rocketed through her and for the first time, she understood. A bone-deep chill unsettled her. This kindly sounding woman looked as if she’d just come home from a PTA meeting, but if she were more powerful than Astrid, she could render her powerless for the rest of her life.

Astrid put the nearest couch between them. “Don’t come any closer.”

Susan glanced at Ray and then frowned at Astrid. “I wouldn’t hurt you.”

“I don’t know that.”

“Susan.” Ray stepped between them and turned his back on Astrid to face his CTF agent. That body language spoke volumes. Susan was the more powerful syphon. Shivers rocked Astrid and her teeth chattered. She clamped them together. Ray spoke softly. “Why don’t you head home for the day? We didn’t rescue anyone who is showing loss of control and Astrid is here of her own will. There’s no rogue to endanger anyone.”

Ray hadn’t really meant that for Susan. That had been for Astrid.

“I’m not sure if that’s true for Griffin.” Susan’s eyes flashed.

She didn’t miss the other syphon’s threat nor her own surge of jealousy in response. It was irrational. It didn’t matter if Griffin and this woman had an affair—and nothing for her to be envious over. She was being stupid. Of course Griffin hadn’t had sex with Susan. He couldn’t touch a syphon. Unless he’d done the wind thing.

She halted that line of thinking as Susan quit the room.

“You must be hungry. Let’s go to the kitchen and you can tell me what you were doing up in those mountains.” Ray made the effort to sound persuasive and nonthreatening, and Astrid let his efforts calm her reaction to the other syphon.

They sat in the gourmet kitchen at the table. Unlike last night, light streamed in the wall of glass doors. The scene of the Monopoly game brought a renewed sense of shame for cheating. That she was here on this mission, after Vince had been debilitated and hidden away, should’ve grounded her on her purpose, but she stared at the chair Griffin had used.

With shaking hands, she reached for the tea Ray gave her.

“There’s nothing but glass on this side of the house.” She took a sip of the hot liquid and the aroma reminded her of pleasant days after school, when she sat alone and at peace before heading home. It was the only hour of her day that she was herself.

“If you want to play it this way, we can. Idle talk. But before the end of the day, I’d ask you to be straightforward with me. Vince Nelson betrayed CTF. He tried to kill our telepath and kidnap our aural mage. If there is something else for us to worry about, it’d be best for you to tell us now.” Ray took a drink of his coffee then looked out the glass door. His abrupt change in subject set Astrid on alert. “Griffin needs to be outside. The glass is the best we can do for when he needs to be in.”

“He likes the outdoors.”

“You could say that. He runs his own landscaping business. Being inside for him is like, a storm in a bottle.” The last was said with some affection and Astrid had to admit, whatever their policies for others, no matter their vigilantism, they cared for one another. They were a family.

That’s what family did. They protected one another. They also kept one another in line. Kept each other from making bad decisions.

“You want me to stay away from him.”

“I do. But that will not be a problem. Tell me what happened up there and we’ll get you home safely.”

“I’m in no danger.”

“We’ll see.”

Astrid shrugged. At this point, there was no reason not to tell them at least this part of the truth. They knew about Vince. Everything else, she’d keep to herself, because that’s what family did, they protected one another. Neil wasn’t her family, but that could change one day. Neil wanted a permanent mating and their powers seemed evenly matched. Astrid’s mother had approved the marriage.

Almost against her own will, she glanced outside. It ticked her off but she had to admit, she was looking for Griffin.

“Vince had started coming to our house. My mother, Helen Collins—”

“He visited your mother?” Ray leaned forward with an intense expression.

“Yes. He knew my aunt—well, she’s called my aunt but she’s a second cousin or something. Vince and Grace tried a mating, against my mother’s suggestion. My aunt Grace died.”

“That was Vince? Grace was well liked. I’m sorry for your loss.” Ray meant the sentiment, but he didn’t appear ruffled in any way, and besides, her Aunt Grace had died before Astrid was born. Ray sat back and crossed his hands over his stomach. He wore fine clothing, as if he were a business man. Elegant and strong, he didn’t seem quite the corporate type, but though he was good-looking, he didn’t make her breasts go heavy with want or make her crazed with lust, so much so she thought she’d make an incredibly bad decision. She didn’t think she’d stare at his ass in tight jeans.

“Griff…” She had no idea what she was about to say. Yes, this had bad decision stamped all over it. Astrid gripped her tea and focused on the table. She started again.

“Vince had come around, trying to seek Mother’s forgiveness for the death of her best friend. Cousins or not, they were connected through friendship more than blood. Vince also thought it was time to introduce us to their son. We’d never known Grace had a child.”

That was, in the end, what killed Aunt Grace. Vince had been slowly draining her in an uneven mating. Grace had to have known, but she’d stayed. A talent-partnership could be unbalanced. If the weaker stayed, he or she would eventually die. Thing was, once paired, if it was a couple partnership versus a platonic one, the weaker para-talent almost never left. The will to do so wasn’t there. The addition of Grace’s pregnancy sped the outcome.

“Vince has a son?” That threw off Ray’s calm demeanor. He ran a hand through his hair. “He never told us.”

“He claimed he’d begun to question CTF’s use of powers. My mother agreed. It’s unethical to take a para-talent’s powers without a trial, or even at all. It’s a talent given at birth. There’s no right for you to take it away.”

“We are careful. But then how did Vince’s group come to be?”

“Vince said he had friends, talents who feared CTF and wanted to come out of hiding. He was going to help them. That’s all. Just to help those para-talents who wanted protection.”

“Hiding from CTF?”

The clear surprise on Ray’s face showed how much he believed that what they did wasn’t wrong. The head of CTF didn’t seem to find it fathomable that people might fear him.

“I know people fear me,” she said gently.

“I don’t.” Ray lifted a brow.

“I can see that. But you must understand how people would view your syphon with fear, and to fear you, for wielding that power.”

“We don’t hurt people. We help them.”

“Isn’t it hurting them to take their power?”

“Let’s get this out of the way. Then you can tell me who else might be gunning for CTF.” Ray stood and waited for her, sliding her chair back in and waving her forward in a gentlemanly nod. He didn’t touch her. But nobody did.

They made their way to a large room upstairs.

“Wait here. Get comfortable,” Ray invited as they entered a conference room. “I have some files for you to see.”

On a plush but elegant armchair near a long, highly polished conference table, once again she found herself searching the vista from the windows. No Griff.

Folders slapped onto the table in front of her and she jumped in her seat.

“Take your time. These are files I’ve shared with the talent families. Including the Collinses. None of these are what I’d consider classified, if we did things that way. We’re more like a home. We take people in. Protect them. Help. Not hurt.”

Ray left her to it.

Hands shaking, she opened the top file. He’d told her to make up her own mind about them but he hadn’t been insistent or pushy. He didn’t tell her she was wrong and he hadn’t ignored what she said. In fact, he’d been offended that she’d think they hurt others. Could someone devious be upset by that?

“I have no idea,” she answered herself.

The top file detailed a tinker who used weather to hide his car stealing. The Hillcrest family had asked CTF to get the kid off the streets before the cops got to him. Daisy, the aural mage, had captured him. The CTF syphon had bled off his powers enough to last a few weeks, and his family had taken him home to put him in a boot camp for drug addiction. Susan planned to visit him once a month to be sure he couldn’t use his powers for the duration. After a year, he’d be done with boot camp and his powers would be fine.

After some time, Clarissa brought her lunch but Astrid didn’t respond to her good-natured chatting and the water mage left. Astrid moved on to the next folder. It was truly fascinating. Some of these kinds of talents, she’d never seen. Her mother had only allowed her to know the calmer types.

One file detailed a kid who brought art to life. He lived here, under the tutelage of the telepath, Sean Twenty. So far, nothing unusual had happened with the kid other than puberty and a need for a positive role model, which he’d found in Sean.

It took her most of the day to look through the files, some heartbreakingly sparse records of orphans the Cinders took in. Others, disturbingly thick with accounts of terrible crime such as a man who’d gone on a rampage when his kinetic power overloaded. He’d been out of his mind and when he came to himself, voluntarily asked his powers be removed before he went to prison.

These files had been shared with her family and she’d heard nothing of it. That didn’t make sense. Either the Cinders lied or her mother had misled her. The wash of pain across her chest, familiar, was the same as all the times she’d caught her mother in a lie.

She whispered her mother’s refrain, “I told you what you needed to hear. For your own good.”