The Thorndykes 1: Dispossessed (20 page)

That touch brought his human side back to him, the compassionate part he hadn’t bothered with before he met her. “Is the procedure really necessary?”

Nathan nodded in affirmation. “They’re trained to hide their thoughts, and the information they hold could save many more lives, Talented and otherwise. Sorcerers do it.”

Jay shuddered at the thought of the most powerful beings on earth. Their extreme psi senses made them both vulnerable and powerful, and they kept their emotions at bay, deeming them dangerous. The scariest person he had ever encountered was a virgin Sorcerer who’d decided to focus everything she was on her psi senses. She could kill with a thought, destroy cities with more effort. If she wanted to.

The notion of someone like that in charge of dissecting a human mind forced even Jay to pause and regret what he’d vowed to do. Then he thought of this grove, and more like it. “They select the vulnerable among us. The young, the weak, the reckless.”

“They do. You can’t let a cell go, Jay. If you can’t do this, then pass the job to the professionals.”

“I might not be a member of some kick-ass secret service,” Jay said through gritted teeth, “but I have experience in killing. I’ve served in most of the major wars of my lifetime. I know how to kill a man more ways than most people realize exist. That includes the ones that have trained in destroying Talents. We need a plan, and we need to do this fast, before they realize we’ve recognized them. Before they recognize us as Talents.”

Jay leaned back on his elbows, staring at the quickly dimming sky. It would be dark in half an hour, and he could go hunting.

After he’d told Lucille. Then he realized which came first. If she needed him, he’d stay.

“Ryan might not be a member. Or he might not believe Lucille is a Talent.”

“If he’s PHR, then he knows at least one of her parents is Talented,” Jay pointed out.

“Talents have mortal children sometimes.” That was one reason Talents knew they were connected. Everything, from DNA studies to their bearing mortal children sometimes, to being able to breed with mortals, indicated that Talents and mortals had the same origin. Different kinds of human. However, PHR, like most fanatics, didn’t believe the evidence presented to them, but did their best to pick the evidence apart.

“Then we don’t kill Ryan,” Jay said. His heart bled for the guy. He’d even liked him, but that wouldn’t stop him giving Ryan up to the Sorcerers. If Ryan was on the level, he wouldn’t suffer much. Sorcerers could investigate mortal minds without having to break through the defensive barriers the PHR taught their people from the moment of their recruitment. Some said there were Talents who for one perverted reason or another belonged to the PHR.

“I have people standing by in Houston. Let me call them.”

“A team?”

Nathan shook his head. “Not exactly. Experienced agents who aren’t on active service right now. We can take the cell down.”

“I guess that makes sense.” It killed Jay to admit it, but he was also aware of one other fact. He was no good to Lucille dead.

* * * *

They went home, Nathan to his berth on the ranch, despite Jay telling him to chuck his job and come back to his house. Jay went home to the woman he loved. He got lucky and surprised her in the shower. There, with the hot spray beating down on them, he held her and told her about her father. The water washed away her tears, but the knowledge left her with a stain on her heart that would be much harder to eradicate. Jay swore he’d do his best to do just that.

He told her what they’d planned, and asked her to go away for a time while they cleared everything up.

Predictably, she refused. “You think I’m turning tail and running the minute there’s trouble? And what about Drew’s friends, his life here?”

He took her face between his hands. “You knew it had to come. For some it comes earlier.”

She shook her head, that glorious hair sticking wetly to her cheeks and neck.

He concentrated on peeling the strands away, relieved to see his hands weren’t shaking. “Sweetheart, if they know about you, and it seems obvious that they do, then they won’t stop. Even if we take out this cell, the next will know about you.”

“What about DNA?”

“What?” Her change of subject unnerved him.

“DNA? Can’t they trace us through that?”

He sighed, picking his words carefully. “Unless they have their own DNA samples of you, they can’t find you that way. We alter the records at source. Everywhere. Yes, that includes fingerprints too. All databases. If the Thorndykes take care of you, they won’t track you down. You can’t come back. Not in this mortal lifetime, and probably not in the next either.”

“Please, darling, you’re killing me here.”

“I just found what I wanted, and I have to leave it?”

“It happens that way.” He knew what she needed, because she was broadcasting it in her mind and her eyes. Her love surrounded him, bathed him as much as the stream of steaming water they stood in, and he knew what he wanted too. He lifted her and tucked his hands under her, bringing her down slowly onto his cock so he entered her naturally. Like breathing. “Would it help if I came with you?”

Chapter Twelve

Awash with pleasure, Lucille thought she was hearing things. She stared up at him, blinked as a cascade of water poured off his hair and into her eyes. He waited, his cock deep inside her where it belonged. “You mean it? You said…”

He smiled, easy. “It’s not such a wrench for me. I’ve done it before, and I plan to do it again. Now, I don’t have to do it alone. It depends on you, darling.”

She’d have to abandon her friends, her life. But she’d have the man she loved. Her love for him wouldn’t go away anytime soon. Deep down, she knew it would last as long as she did. Something inside her had settled, and he fit her better than a tailor-made glove. “Are you sure?”

“Never surer.” He kissed her and pressed her against the tiled wall at the side of the shower. She clung to his shoulders while he rotated his hips. He gave her the full benefit of his cock, making her throw back her head and cry his name. What felt like an earthquake started inside her, tremors rocking her body, but Jay backed off, grinning. “We’re doing this slowly. You’re always in too much of a hurry.”

“Oh, shit, make me come, please! I’ll do anything you want, anything.”

“How about fucking my friends?”

She snapped her eyes open, shock bringing her right down. “Are you serious?”

He gave her an enigmatic smile. “Of course I am. At least we can talk about it.”

Her relief swept through her. “I thought you wanted me all to yourself.”

“I do, but that doesn’t mean we can’t use our imaginations.” He watched her, clearly waiting for her response. Then he moved inside her. “What if this was someone else, and I was watching? What then?”

She swallowed, working herself into the scene. “I’d take whoever you told me to.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t tell anyone. I’d just make you available. Close your eyes, darling.”

She did as he told her. Immediately he flooded a picture into her mind. She stood naked in front of a group of men who lounged languidly on elegant gilt chairs and sofas, their attention fixed on her. Their collective gaze encompassed her body, lingered, as if they were touching her. She shivered.

“I’ve taken you into a Cyprian’s ball naked and bound. I informed them you were an impostor at my last party, that you need more experience to become a true Cyprian. I only invite the best and the most expensive women in London.”

He jabbed into her, did it again, made her catch her lower lip between her teeth. He let her see a tall blond man, his cool blue eyes boring into hers. “This is Lord Fernley. He’s fucked every woman, so he’s agreed to add to your education. Like it? Tell him how much.”

She recalled the romances she’d read, saw the skintight pants his lordship would be wearing, undone just enough to free his cock. His elaborate vest gleamed with the heavy gold embroidery. “My lord, you are greatly talented.” She liked the double entendre of the last word, and she tried to keep her words steady. A practiced courtesan would have total control over her emotions and her body.

He smiled his approval, and the image morphed to a shorter, younger man, his thick brows drawn in a frown. “Now we have his lordship, the Earl of Pasteyne. Is he good? Do you think youth wins out over experience?” He punctuated his words with a fast flurry of thrusts, almost drawing out so she feared he’d miss his aim. The energetic drives nearly had their desired result.

Jay stopped and turned the corners of his mouth down in mock regret. “But he’s come too early. Still, you’re a professional, and you’re not there for yourself. You’re there to fuck and to take it. Give everything they want, let them use you until you’re sore, and then do another round.”

“Do courtesans do that? I thought they had one client at a time.”

He laughed. “Sweet innocent! Some do, some don’t.” He gave her images of men. Men he’d known: dark and fair, young and old, fucking her one after the other. Men coming, some moving away before they did so and spraying her body. “Some courtesans enjoy their work and want to make themselves as practiced as they can. So they open their bodies to all comers. Some are known for their stamina. Some refuse to take a keeper, but hire themselves out by the day or hour. The difference between a courtesan and a common prostitute is the price and the level of refinement. They are good company. They know about current fashions, the plays and operas; they keep stables and ride in the park. Men of power and prestige are not ashamed to honor them. Just as long as the respectable women aren’t there, of course.”

He moved slower now, but he wasn’t allowing her access to his inner self, so she couldn’t tell if he was easing off for his sake or for hers. Now he was deliberately missing the most sensitive spot, tantalizing her, teasing her with his cock, and, what was more, he was using her senses as a guide. He laughed, inside her mind and aloud, filling her with joy. She wasn’t thinking of anything but him anymore.

“Who’s this?” she asked, knowing the answer. She could see him in her mind’s eye. She knew her Jay.

“This,” he said, rotating his hips and then pushing in, “is me. Open your eyes.”

They locked gazes as he worked her. Because she leaned against the wall, he could move his hands, and he did so, caressing her body, cupping her breasts and teasing her nipples with his thumbs.

She gave little sounds of pleasure, whimpers, begging him for more. “I know nothing, Jay. I need you to teach me.”

“You know everything.” He gave a particularly vicious push, and her head thudded back against the wall. “All the ways to make me happy and the ways to torture me. Sometimes they’re the same.”

This time he didn’t miss her sweet spot, instead taking care to graze it with every stroke. With him deep and hard inside her, she felt trapped, and she loved it. For real? Not so much, but this, this delicious picture he planted in her mind, she adored. He made her feel well used, and she could think of little else but Jay and his care for her. When she considered reciprocating, conjuring up women she’d known for him, her mind balked. She couldn’t do it. He was hers, and nobody else was going to have him. Not even in her imagination.

“Not two at once?” He sounded disappointed. Of course he’d picked up her thoughts.

She shook her head. “I’m not as generous as you.”

“I don’t want you to be. I feel so…wanted when you say that. You want me, and I’ll give you everything I can in return. Everything.”

His fierce, concentrated thrusts finally had their result, and she blossomed in his arms, clutched his biceps as she came and came. Sometime during her endless orgasm, he joined her, jetted hotly within her while she cried his name repeatedly.

He leaned forward and gently unwrapped her legs from around his waist, holding her until she regained her balance.

“I love you, Jay.”

“I love you too.”

She kissed him and let the water rinse them off. Together they dried themselves and each other, and together they put on robes and went into the bedroom, holding hands like young lovers.

He raised her hand to his lips and kissed the back, courtly old-world style. “Madam, I will follow you wherever you wish to go. Tell me, and I’ll make it possible. London? Would you like to move in society or live quietly in the country?”

“We have to live quietly, don’t we?”

He led her to the bed. They sat on the edge. “Only for six months while the paperwork and records are sorted out. Then we’ll be different people. The only thing is—we can’t come back here for at least one generation. Two is safer.”

So it began, her wandering existence. “How do you bear it?”

He stroked a line down her palm. “By making sure I can take most of my belongings with me, keeping some stability in my life. Now I have you, and I need nothing else.”

“How long for?”

“As long as this lasts.” He smiled. “As far as I’m concerned, it will last forever. For the rest of my life.”

“And mine,” she said. “Can we bond?”

Startled, his gaze flew to her face, his eyes wide and shocked. “You’d do that? You have years more than me.”

“Not if we bond. If we do that, we share a life.” Once she said it, she was certain. She wanted it, needed it. This man to become part of her, so that it could kill them to separate. He might not want that. “I’m sorry. I spoke too soon.”

“Not for me.” She read nothing but sincerity in his mind, and as soon he opened to her. Just keeping that last layer now, the one that once opened, he could never close to her. It was her decision. He welcomed her suggestion. His joy was like nothing else she’d experienced before. Wholly untrammeled, without barriers or doubts.

“Jay!” No more words. Nobody had accepted her so entirely before, not even her brother.

He gave her a wry smile. “I want it too. We’re stronger than marriage, we can never be parted without pain. When one of us dies, so does the other. You certain you want that?”

Since she couldn’t imagine life without him, yes, she was sure. She nodded. “Now?”

He shook his head. “Not until we’ve cleared up here.”