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Authors: Nalini Singh

Hostage to Pleasure (42 page)

BOOK: Hostage to Pleasure
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Feline delight in those blue depths, the dark edge of sorrow and rage pleasured away. Ashaya was no expert at passion, but if that was what it took to keep Dorian from the edge, she’d play with him night and day. Because he was hers to care for, as much as she was his. “Please, Dorian.” She smiled. “Come inside me.”
He chuckled. “I like the way you say please. I think I want to hear it again.”
“Please, Mr. Christensen.” Wrapping her arms around his neck, she hooked one leg over his waist. “Pretty please.”
He scowled. “It’s not begging if you smile.”
She leaned in until her lips brushed his. “You make me want to crawl all over you.”
“That’ll do.” He was inside her an instant later, a hot, hard intrusion that was somehow the most perfect of joinings. “Up.” His hand went to her bottom, urging her to wrap her other leg around him. The second she did, he backed her against the smoothness of a moss-laden trunk.
Then he proceeded to show her exactly how magnificent he could get. There were no hard, fast thrusts, nothing that might cause her back to bruise. No, tonight, he was determined to drive her insane with slow rotations that touched her every sensitive spot over and over . . . and over again. The orgasm hit her hard, and rode her in long lush waves, wringing her dry. Her bones turned molten.
It took a while to find the brain cells to say, “Mind-blowing.” His oh-so-satisfied smile of pure male delight followed her into her dreams.
And perhaps it was that smile that unlocked the knowledge in her mind.
She woke at dawn to find her cat watching her. He was on his stomach, the sheets barely covering his buttocks, all golden hair and bright blue eyes. “What?” he asked when she stared at him.
She went to tell him, but stopped herself at the last instant. Until she was sure, she had to keep this to herself. “Blondie?” she asked instead.
He grinned. “That was her revenge for me calling her Carrot. What’re you going to call me?”
She took a moment to think. “Mine.”
He gave her a startled look. “Possessive.”
“So?” She stole the answer he’d given her so many times.
“Nothing.” A meek look but his voice was filled with laughter. “I’m not going to argue with a sexy woman who wants to make me her poor, overworked love slave.”
She found herself laughing, even as part of her mind obsessively considered the implications of what she’d discovered in Dorian’s genetic structure. She was still working on the problem that afternoon as they drove to Talin’s home. It seemed the—
“Mommy, look!”
She glanced into the backseat to see Keenan making the strangest face. “That’s very interesting, baby.”
Satisfied, he nodded. “I’m a leopard.”
“Of course you are.” She looked at Dorian to see him biting back a smile. “Are you excited about seeing Noor again?” she asked Keenan.
“Yeah! We’re gonna play tag.”
She was excited herself—Jon was going to be there today, too. Turning to the front when Keenan became engrossed in a handheld game, she touched Dorian on the arm. “Are you sure Jon won’t have psychological issues with seeing me?” She’d been part of the lab where the teenager had been tortured.
“Kid isn’t ready to be your best friend,” Dorian said bluntly. “But he knows you got him and Noor out and he wants to say thanks.”
“I’m—” Ashaya never got to finish her sentence as gunshots came out of nowhere, hitting both the engine casing and the tires in rapid-fire bursts. Belching smoke, the car spun out of control. She turned to grab Keenan, but he was too far to reach. “Get down!” she told him, trying not to panic. “Baby, listen to me. Get down.” She reinforced the vocal command with a telepathic one.
He curled low in the seat, eyes huge.
“Good boy,” she soothed, just as Dorian managed to get the car straightened and said, “Hold on, kiddo.” He activated the hover-drive.
The vehicle lurched drunkenly but kept going. “Come on, come on.” He raced down the road and swung into a heavily forested area the instant before the car’s computronic engine began to splutter. “Get out.” Braking to a complete halt, he reached into the backseat to release a silent Keenan from his child seat. The boy wrapped his arms and legs around him as Dorian got out of the car and ran around to her side.
“Where?” she asked him, fear making her brain act with cold efficiency.
“Telepath Sascha,” he ordered as he gave Keenan to her and opened the trunk to take out his rifle, stuffing extra ammo into his pockets. “Tell her we’ve been ambushed.”
Ashaya didn’t tell him she wasn’t a strong enough telepath. Instead, as Dorian took Keenan again, and told her to follow him as he ran into the trees, she opened her mind to the Web of Stars and sent out a generalized distress call. She would’ve never done the same in the PsyNet, but this web was much smaller, filled with ... family.
Amara’s mind responded first, though she was living and working in Sierra Tech’s mountain headquarters.
I’m calling for reinforcements.
A message sent through the Web.
Unable to hold the contact, given the intensity of the run, she dropped back out and tried to match Dorian’s pace. It was brutal, but she knew he was holding back so she could keep up.
He stopped just as she was beginning to fear she’d be unable to go any farther. They were in the midst of a grove of sorts but from the low density of the trunks, she had the feeling civilization lay not far ahead.
“Here.” Dorian’s voice was a command as he walked around a tree and nodded at the hollow created by its massive roots.
She sat down inside, holding out her arms for Keenan. Dorian’s eyes met hers as he bent to hand Keenan over. “I’ll be on the other side of the tree, in the branches. You’re safer here—whoever it is will expect me to stash you above.” He nodded at Keenan.
She understood the message—if anything happened, Keenan would hear it. So she’d have to ensure he didn’t. Using the maternal bond, she wrapped him in a cocoon that promised safety. He relaxed immediately. “The Council?” she dared whisper.
His mouth was a grim line as he shook his head. “Human.” Bending, he brushed his lips over hers in a fleeting kiss, his hand lying protectively on Keenan’s hair. “Don’t move.” He took a small gun she hadn’t seen him retrieve and put it in her hand behind Keenan’s back.
She slid her fingers through the grip. “Be careful.” Pressing her back into the tiny cave created by the roots, she curved her body over her son’s, aware of Dorian moving away. She heard a footstep or two, and then nothing.
Her leopard had gone hunting.
 
Dorian was furious with himself. He’d been so focused on the Council that he’d forgotten the other threat. No, he’d
disregarded
it because the threat came from mere humans. If he survived this, he’d have to fucking shoot himself for his arrogance. Hadn’t Tally taught him anything? One small woman and she’d managed to put fear into the heart of a Psy killer. Humans might not have changeling strength or Psy mental abilities, but they were no less strong . . . and had the capacity for as much evil.
Lying in the branches of a tree only a small distance from the one where he’d hidden the two most important pieces of his heart, he calmed down his heartbeat and focused, eliminating everything from his consciousness except his awareness of the intruders. The first thing he realized was that they’d planned this very carefully.
Shit.
He was moving back down the tree even as the curse passed through his mind.
Ashaya looked up in surprise when he returned. He took Keenan, holding a finger to his lips. “Grab on to me, K-Man.” When the boy obeyed, Dorian quickly scaled the tree and put him in the crook of a branch. “I’ll be back with your mom.”
A nod, not as much fear as he would’ve expected. Trust, he thought, his heart clenching, the kid trusted him. Going back down, he found Ashaya already halfway up. She let him help her the rest of the way. Once beside Keenan, she put her arms around their son’s tiny figure, and gave him a questioning look.
He made a circle with his finger.
Surrounded.
Unlike the Psy, these humans weren’t so egotistical as to come into leopard territory expecting easy prey. They’d brought a small army.
He watched as Ashaya settled Keenan more firmly into his little spot, then put her back to him so he’d be protected by her body. Holding the gun awkwardly in one hand, she lifted the other to show Dorian three fingers, then five.
Fifteen minutes until backup arrived.
Dorian mentally counted his ammo, the number of hunters out there, and knew he couldn’t take them all out, not with his gun alone. It might come down to hand-to-hand combat. He bared his teeth—no one was getting up here. Nodding to Ashaya, he moved quickly away and lower down the tree.
Finding a good spot, he lay along the branch, put his rifle in position. And waited.
The first man showed his head a minute later. His brains exploded over the forest floor an instant after that, the shot silent, the kill precise.
Everything stilled and he could hear them break their radio silence and talk for several seconds. Then nothing—as if this army was organized enough to get itself under control. They were more careful after that, but he was a cat, and this was his territory. Despite their camouflage gear, he picked off three more before getting up and moving.
Ashaya’s worried eyes met his as he climbed up to take a position along her branch. He took out four more men before they realized he’d changed position. They got wary after that, and his job got harder. He moved again, only managed to take out one.
He knew they were going to be able to pinpoint which tree he was in, very soon.
He put his lips to Ashaya’s ear. “Regrouping. Few minutes’ grace.”
She nodded. “Ten minutes.” It was more the shape of her lips than sound.
He gritted his teeth, knowing he wasn’t fighting amateurs. These people wanted Ashaya, and they clearly wanted her alive. If they rushed the tree, he’d certainly manage to kill most of them. But not all.
Not all.
CHAPTER 51
Stop worrying, sweetheart. Hell, yeah, I’d like to shift, but I stopped wishing for the impossible a long time ago. Far as I’m concerned, being latent gives me an edge—I’m the most experienced weapons handler in either pack. Even that assassin you call a mate can’t outshoot me.
 
—Excerpt from instant-message conversation between Dorian Christensen and Brenna Kincaid, three months ago
 
 
Making another quick decision, Dorian swung the rifle over his head and onto his back and pointed upward. Ashaya’s eyes went wide, but to her credit, she gave him Keenan and began to climb, displaying the lithe skill that had saved her life from the lynx all those weeks ago. “Dorian?” A boyish whisper against his ear.
“Yeah?” He followed Ashaya, Keenan clinging to him like a monkey, not a tear in sight. Dorian was fucking proud of the boy’s courage.
“I want a gun.”
He winced, wondering what Ashaya would say to this new development. She’d been “rather surprised” to wake up the other day and find Keenan trying to copy Dorian as he went through his martial arts workout—the memory of those small legs kicking determinedly was almost enough to make Dorian smile even now. “We’ll talk about it later.”
Seemingly satisfied with that, Keenan kept his silence as they continued the climb. When Ashaya took a seat on a branch a couple of meters from their previous position, he nodded. Handing her Keenan, he jumped up beside her, shifting so his back formed a protective wall. “Makes it harder for them to rush us.” From here, he could pick them off one by one. Even the best human climber wasn’t leopard-fast.
He could hear Ashaya’s heart thudding behind him, the scent of her sweat fresh and clean. She leaned onto his back and, to his surprise, pressed a kiss to his nape, tucking the spare gun into the waistband of his jeans at the same time. “After this is over,” she whispered, her confidence in him a vibrant beat in his heart, “I’ll lie in the sun for you.” Grinning despite the danger, he leaped lightly onto the branch below theirs and began hunting again. This time, he moved after each shot, scattering their attackers’ defenses.
The scent of blood and flesh drifted up. Then the gunshots started. Every time he made a hit, that position was riddled seconds later. They were reacting quicker and, with the fifth kill, he was nicked in the arm. Swearing lightly, he told himself to move faster. It would be at least seven more minutes until backup arrived.
He checked his ammo again and realized he’d have to stop shooting if he wanted to keep something in reserve. Teeth bared, he crawled along the branches until he was in prime position to protect Ashaya and Keenan. The hunters began moving faster the instant they realized he wasn’t picking them off anymore. Probably thought he was down.
The first ones who attempted to climb the tree found their faces shot off. The others drew back and he heard low-voiced conversation. Not low enough. A mistake at last.
“Can’t have much more ammo.”
“Who’s gonna volunteer to find out?”
“Shoot into the tree.”
“And kill the target? Genius.”
“Why the fuck didn’t anyone know we were dealing with a sniper? He’s supposed be fighting with claws and teeth.”
“Shut up, all of you.”
A furious voice.
“Maintain silence. He’s a cat.”
The men obeyed. Resisting the urge to swear, Dorian spread out his senses again and waited for their next move. Several shots were fired into the trunk.
“We want Ashaya Aleine alive,” a male voice said. “That’s all. We don’t want to harm her.”
Then you fucking shouldn’t have shot at her and our child.
Dorian used the speaker’s voice to get a lock on his position without the benefit of a sightline.
“Give her to us and we’ll let you—”
BOOK: Hostage to Pleasure
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