Sword of the Raven Page 14

  Disappointment careened through him. Muscles clenched, he steeled himself to release her.

  Then her arms slid around his neck, her mouth again seeking his.

  A growl rumbled in his throat as he backed her to the wall. Her pebbled nipples rubbed his chest, her velvety belly pressed into his aching hard-on.

  She answered with a low hum of pleasure…and he was lost.

  Thrusting his knee between hers, he parted her thighs, rocked his hips into her. No finesse, just raw, animal heat. Thirst. Longing. Hurt and loneliness…he poured them all into Delaney. She took everything, and gave him back peace, edged with scalding passion.

  Rowan didn’t consciously summon his Power, but the glittering rush crashed through him, and he spilled it into her. She shuddered, moaned…then spiked heightened pleasure back into him.

  His breath caught and he staggered. No woman had ever been capable of echoing their combined pleasure inside him.

  Every erotic sensation intensified tenfold. The carnal invasion tripped his pulse, tightened his muscles, tingled along his nerve endings.

  Too much, way too fast.

  The startling urge to climax roared through him, wrenching a groan from deep within. He tangled his fingers in Delaney’s hair, desperately clinging to the breaking edge of control. Mouths fused, he ground his hips into her welcoming softness while riding her on his thigh. Gave her another hot, fervent push of Power.

  He wanted, needed her with him when he hit the crest.

  She shook in his arms, ragged breaths hitching, galloping heartbeat thudding against his chest.

  Meshed so close in body and spirit he could feel, taste her rioting need entwined with his. Amplifying his.

  C’mon, luv. Go over for me.

  Yes—

  An unexpected shaft of searing agony speared his brain, buckling his knees. He tore his mouth from Delaney’s. Panting for air, he propped his forehead on the stone wall.

  “R-Rowan?” Delaney sounded as breathless as he felt. “What’s—”

  “Shite!” He could barely force out words. “C-coming.”

  “It’s…okay.” Me, too. I thought.

  “Nay. I meant—” His cock throbbed, and he ground his teeth. “Someone…tripped my perimeter wards. Approaching the cabin.” Although the internal alarm was usually a subtle buzz. It had never blasted his brain.

  “I see.” Maybe…not such bad timing. Her silent message transmitted clearly, although she had trouble meeting his gaze. “Friend or enemy?”

  “Not sure.” But at least after the intimate link with her just now, he was ninety-nine percent certain she wasn’t a demon.

  He lifted her out of the shower, and his mere thought instantly dried them both. Her injured leg gave out…and before he even formed the intention, light pulsed from his palms into Delaney.

  Bloody hell. His Powers seemed to be mega-charged.

  Delaney gasped. Her skin flushed beneath his hands, rosy pink spreading up her body and into her face. Her lashes fluttered rapidly and she swayed. Ohhh! Rowan!

  Rowan grinned as he steadied her. He hadn’t intended to do that, either. Well, one of them wouldn’t be left frustrated. “Delaney, you okay? I need to check it out.”

  What was— “Um…go.”

  He dematerialized without having to invoke the incantation—another first. Instead of drifting, his essence blasted out of the cabin and rocketed through the misty forest. Somehow, their passion had caused their Powers to interconnect. Had it also supercharged his abilities?

  Nothing in his experience, nor those of any Mages in his lineage, gave him the answer.

  Rowan watched the ground rushing past in a blur. Feck! I could get used to this.

  * * *

  Delaney’s wobbly knees barely got her to the wooden bench against the bathroom wall. Of all the hare-brained ideas… Kissing Rowan MacLachlan ranked up there with provoking a Great White shark.

  She’d impulsively decided to prove to herself she wasn’t intimidated by the attraction arcing between them. Prove she could quash her cravings for him with the same force of will that got her though every problem in life.

  Instead, when he’d looked at her with unabashed admiration brimming in his striking silver and jade eyes, common sense had evaporated. Everything had spiraled completely out of her control.

  And after Rowan had lifted her out of the shower— She swallowed. Right then, right there, she might have had…sort of an orgasm.

  She’d never gotten that hot. Especially so fast. She’d been teetering on the verge of something spectacular when he’d stopped a breath from the edge, but—

  What the hell just happened?

  She drew a shaky breath. She and Zack had made out plenty. But the same reservations that stopped her from letting any man invade her body, even her fiancé, had also kept her physical responses locked down. She’d thought her libido was less enthusiastic than most women’s.

  But now…. Her skin was still flushed, her nipples and more intimate places sensitive and tingly.

  The idea that Rowan could make her climax for the very first time—while barely touching her—was disconcerting. Terrifying.

  Her hands fisted. And she hadn’t just tasted Rowan’s passion, she’d somehow absorbed his feelings. The man was emotionally tormented. His aching undercurrent of private agony made her want to embrace and console him. Some savage, primitive instinct within her that she didn’t even recognize made her long to find the person who’d hurt him so badly…and rip out their jugular.

  They shared more in common than she’d ever imagined, past and present.

  What did you do to me, MacLachlan?

  Delaney? His astonished reply was as clear and strong as his presence—which she suddenly realized was still linked with hers. Reading her every thought and emotion. That was your first?

  Oh, crap. She buried her burning face in her hands. It was supposed to be one simple kiss, to vanquish her doubts.

  Instead, their sizzling connection had spun her world inside out.

  Nothing to be embarrassed about, lass. I’m glad I gave you pleasure, Rowan answered matter-of-factly. However, you’d best be getting dressed. If something’s about to try to breach the wards around the cabin, things could get…dicey.

  Delaney surged to her feet, pain-free and completely healed. She glanced down at the faint white scar on her thigh, the only remnant of her injury. She’d barreled right past dicey and charged head-long into dangerous.

  When it came to her secretive, sexy Scot, she was out-matched and out-maneuvered. Her mouth tilted in a determined smile.

  For now.

  * * *

  Delaney quickly dressed in black leggings, black knee-high boots, and a turquoise turtleneck. Accessorized by a wide leather belt…and the kitchen’s biggest butcher knife. Hilt gripped in her fist, she hovered near the coat rack beside the front door and flipped aside a stray curl. She should’ve taken time to braid her hair. If she had to fight, it was gonna get in the way.

  Sensing a presence in the living room behind her, she spun, blade raised.

  Rowan leapt back. “Steady on, lass.” As his gaze skated over her, amusement—and blatant male appreciation—glinted in his quicksilver gaze. “I prefer to keep the appendages attached.”

  “Did you see who’s coming?” His naughty grin sent warmth creeping up her neck and into her cheeks. “Uh…arriving?”

  “Aye, although nothing’s ever alerted me from eight and a half kilometers out before. It’s Walker.”

  “Zack?” Her pulse sped up. “Maybe he has news about Connor!” But if that were the case, Archer would’ve called her. Provided there was cell reception.

  “You want me to allow him through the protective wards, then?”

  “Yes! Is that why you wrote those blood symbols on the door? As protection?”

  “Aye.”

  So Connor must have done the same to her, with her palm. But how did Connor know warding spells? Was that what he’d meant
by messing around with stuff he hadn’t a clue about? “Ah, Rowan, it’ll be interesting explaining the bloody artwork to Zack.”

  “You won’t have to. It’s invisible to humans.”

  Then why could she see it? “Okay…while I’m talking to him, you go get dressed. And please hang out in the bedroom until he leaves. I don’t want to have to explain you.”

  He glanced down like he hadn’t remembered he was barefoot and wearing only jeans. The man was definitely comfortable with his body. Why wouldn’t he be, with a physique as magnificent as a Celtic god’s? “You will eventually. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Ever?” At his shrug, she stared at him. “Oh…hell no, don’t tell me…you’re immortal?”

  His throaty laugh warmed her faster than the hot shower. “Back to Hollywood again, are we? Nay, I’m not immortal. Neither am I wholly mortal.”

  She frowned. “Care to be a ‘wee bit’ more specific, laddie?”

  “I can die. Will die.” Storm clouds gathered in his eyes. “But not as easily as some would like. Or as soon.”

  “How long have you been around?”

  “Tuatha Dé don’t measure time the same way as humans. For a Mage, I’m relatively young.”

  “Give me a number.”

  He hesitated. “Detective Walker—”

  “Isn’t here yet. Come on, in the last few days I’ve lived through a reality that makes the Syfy channel’s lineup look mundane. I’m not going to spaz out. How old are you?”

  “Around a century or so.”

  She’d suspected he hadn’t honed those amazing Powers overnight, but the truth staggered her. “Over a hundred years?”

  “Give or take, aye.”

  “Huh.” She arched her brows. “I wouldn’t have made you for a day past seventy-five. Must be all that clean living.”

  A fleeting smile. “I’ll tell you about my origins…everything you need to know…as we start training. I spent half of my first century learning and refining my Powers. Unfortunately, you don’t have that luxury.”

  “Fortunately, I’m a fast study.”

  “You’ll have to be.”

  “Yeah.” Her stomach pitched. “I’ve seen the evil we’re up against.” Before Rowan could reply, tires crunched on the graveled drive. She waggled her fingers at him. “Bye, now.”

  With a snort, he sauntered down the hallway.

  Delaney ditched the butcher knife and threw open the living room drapes before answering Zack’s insistent knock.

  “Delaney!” He stepped inside, black jeans and brown leather bomber jacket splotched with raindrops, his mouth bracketed by tired lines. Worried hazel eyes locked with hers. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes.”

  “I know you come to the beach whenever you need to regroup, and Archer said you wanted to be left alone. But enough is enough. Why aren’t you sitting vigil at Connor’s bedside?”

  She slammed the front door closed behind him. “You’re not in the best position to judge me. Seeing as how you deserted Connor the minute being his friend impacted your career.”

  “I’m not judg— I didn’t—” He raked impatient fingers through his damp hair. “Hell, Lanie, what happened to us? We can’t even carry on a civilized conversation anymore.”

  “You know what happened.”

  He sighed. “I smell coffee. Mind if I help myself?”

  “Are you staying that long?”

  “As long as it takes to settle up.” Zack shrugged off his jacket and hung it on the coat rack. He walked into the kitchen, lean athlete’s body weighted with weariness, shoulders stiff beneath his dark plum shirt.

  Her chest tightened. She’d given him that shirt last Christmas because she loved the way purple emphasized the amber highlights in his eyes. It had been the final holiday they’d spent together. “Pour me one, too, then. Settling up will take a while.” She detoured to the living room and dropped onto the sofa nearest the fireplace.

  Zack followed, handing Delaney a warm orange mug. He commandeered the coffee table and sat facing her with his knees bracketing hers. “What I have to tell you…isn’t easy.” He hesitated. “For me to say. Or you to hear.”

  Uncertainty was alien to Zachary Walker. The weight on Delaney’s chest grew smothering. “Is it…Connor?” Is he…”

  “No! God no! His condition is unchanged.”

  Of course not, Archer would’ve come to tell— “Archer!” Had Rowan misjudged the extent of his injuries? “Is Archer hurt, did something happen—”

  “He’s okay. Vanessa’s okay. I’m sorry, Lanie, I didn’t mean to scare you. I didn’t mean a lot of things.”

  Gulping coffee perfectly mixed to her taste, she slumped into the sofa cushions. “What are you doing here, Zack?”

  “I’ve been lying to you.”

  Suspicions confirmed, she stiffened. Was he involved with the criminals who’d framed Connor? She couldn’t believe it. Didn’t want to. Yet shame compressed his lips. “About…?”

  “Everything. I hated doing it. I—” His Adam’s apple jerked. “I had to protect you. Connor and I both agreed, it was the only way.”

  “Connor knows?”

  “Since day one.”

  “How could you? Connor must have been devastated. He loves you like a brother.”

  “I feel the same.” Zack set aside his untouched mug. He leaned forward, hands gripping her thighs. “I had to make an untenable choice…and I chose him. I’m sorry, babe. It was the only way to help him.”

  “Help him? Wait…” The horrifying picture grew all too clear. “You’ve ‘been lying’ to me,” she whispered. “Oh. My. God!” Anger and betrayal burned like acid. “I’ve watched the two of you build a cover so many times…I should have known! All these months of misery— You let me believe—” She flung her cup at his head.

  He ducked as it whistled past at impossible speed to crash against the far wall.

  Shaking, she pushed to her feet. “You broke up with me, broke my heart, to protect me…so you and Connor could run an undercover investigation into his case! So I wouldn’t catch on!”

  “Yes.” Zack surged upright, grabbed her forearms. He was shaking, too. “Because I loved you, and I didn’t want you to be hurt. Or killed. I still love you, Lanie. Never stopped loving you, dammit.” He yanked her against him and crushed his mouth to hers.

  Zack’s familiar touch, his scent, his taste, careened through her. The man who’d always been so restrained kissed her with wild recklessness, and her heart somersaulted.

  Thunder exploded overhead, rocking the cabin on its foundation. The sky blackened, rain iced into sleet and slammed against the window so hard it rattled. Hailstones pelted the roof, the walls. In the far distance, raging ocean waves coiled as high as the trees and pummeled the rocky coastline.

  She jerked away from Zack, pulse pounding, breaths sawing in her throat. Instinctive reaction sent her hand flying out to slap his face. The blow knocked him halfway to the window. “You presumptuous son of a bitch! Did you stop to think for one second that maybe I had the right to know what was happening? That I should make the choice about my future? Who gave you permission to play God with my life?”

  He moved close again and caught her hand. Kissed her palm. “I deserved that.”

  She tugged her fingers from his grasp and stalked to the window, stared at whipping waves that were as storm-tossed as her emotions. “I thought—” She cleared the hitch from her voice. “Thought you’d abandoned us. Turned traitor. And you let me—no, you purposefully made me—believe the worst. Left me to deal with the trial, with Connor’s imprisonment alone.”

  “You’re strong, Delaney, stronger than most. I knew you could handle it.”

  But he hadn’t been there to see all those nights she’d cried herself to sleep, had he?

  “Besides, you weren’t alone, sweetheart. Archer and Vanessa were with you. I had to do it, to save Connor. Please, let me explain.”

  “Why?” She wheeled to f
ace him. “After all this time, why confess now?”

  He stayed put, giving her space. “Because of what’s happened to Connor. I can’t stand by and say nothing. Not any more. At least listen to what I have to say, if for nothing more than Connor’s sake.”

  “Low blow, even for you, Zachary.”

  “I shoot with the ammo I’ve got, honey. Hear me out.”

  She strode to the easy chair beside the fireplace and sank down, rubbing her temples where a headache had begun to throb. “Save me from overbearing alpha males…curse all of you.”

  Zack brought her another mug of coffee and set it on the small table beside her. “Here.”

  “Brave man.”

  “I figure you need caffeine more than you want me wearing it.”

  “It’s still a toss-up.”

  He grabbed a rag from beneath the sink and returned to the living room, where he knelt to mop up broken stoneware and spilled coffee. “Christ, Lanie, you been working out more? You nearly smacked me across the room…and your cup dented the paneling clear over here.”

  By the way, Zack, I have superpowers now. I can’t seem to control them, my bad. Her headache clamored. “Quit stalling and talk. Every detail, Walker. No more lies.”

  “No, no more lies. Working for the DA’s office, you heard about Euphoria, right?”

  She reached for her coffee. A vice detective’s job was always risk-intensive, especially undercover. But Euphoria was the most dangerous new drug ever put on the street. People were dying in droves—and those were the lucky ones. “Don’t tell me you and Connor were hunting the cartel distributing Euphoria?”

  “When dozens of brain-damaged users started cropping up in every major city, the DEA formed a national task force. Captain Luis was the only other officer in the local loop. Connor and I took the assignment. We swore an oath not to reveal any details, to anyone. We went deep cover into the organization, him as a junkie, me as a minor dealer. Connor finally hooked up with a snitch who provided him with one name connecting all the dead stoners. He had the snitch set him up to meet—”

  “Judge Marta Zinter.”