Savage Revenge (25 page)

“I’m innocent.”

The two words finally registered and she blinked to clear her head. “Wait, what?”

“They found me innocent.” He pushed her away gently and cupped her face, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Everything’s going to be okay, sweetheart.”

Around them, the other two couples made sounds of relief, followed by excited chatter.

“I knew you couldn’t have done it.”

“So relieved.”

“It was awful to begin with…”

Their words swirled in Sage’s head, but she couldn’t seem to focus on them as the relief turned to exhaustion.

Nate kept his arm around her as he turned to reply and thank them.

“Celebration dinner at our house tonight with everyone?” Sienna offered. “This is wonderful news.”

“Can we make it tomorrow night instead?” Nate countered, and his gaze settled on Sage. “It sounds great, but after this week, I think I’d like a night alone with my mate.”

“Of course,” Sienna agreed quickly. “Have a good night, you guys. You deserve it.”

Sage murmured her good-byes and gave hugs to all before Nate steered them from the building.

“I just saw your expression when you were in there,” she admitted softly. “And I thought…”

“I’m sure I looked pretty horrified. I was reading the detailed account of the child survivor and, fuck, Sage, it sounds like Alicia was a complete sociopath.”

“So the child said it was Alicia?”

“Oh yeah. And another man was there—from the child’s description it sounds like Frank Collins.”

“Wow.” She gave a small shrug. “And yet I’m not at all surprised.”

“For a while there, I thought maybe it was me killing those women. That I just didn’t remember it. Because one of them looked familiar.” He shook his head. “I know why now. One of the cabins I broke into in Oregon belonged to her. There was a picture of her and her family and I must’ve seen it.”

“I know you did, but it wasn’t you. It was Frank. He wanted to frame you,” she reminded him. She’d told Nate all about it after that awful night when Frank had taken her. “He was evil. Pure evil.”

“I know, and he’s dead now.” The restrained fury and disgust in him was visible in his clenched jaw. “Him and Alicia both are. I have no sympathy for the murdering pair and hope they’re rotting in hell.”

She squeezed his hand. “It’s over now. It’s all over, Nate.”

He caught her in his arms again and squeezed her hard. As if she were the only thing keeping him together.

“Take me back to your house,” she pleaded. “Right now I don’t want to talk about death or darkness, I just want to be with you. I want to lie in your arms and maybe never leave them.”

His arms tightened, before he nodded and they left the P.I.A. office together.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Jocelyn paced the floor of her luxury condo, staring out into night at the lights of the city and the darkness of Puget Sound.

A ferryboat, it’s lights shining in the night, traveled across the Sound.

Her hand trembled as she raised her vodka tonic to her mouth and took a sip. The alcohol, usually so wonderful at soothing her nerves—bringing her peace—did absolutely nothing. This was the third drink of the night, and still it did nothing.

Christ
. Her life was falling apart—her mind a bipolar playground. She alternated between the urge to shift into the very creatures she despised, and sobbing over the loss of her mate.

That mate she’d killed in a cold deliberation for what he’d done to her. To those women. And she missed him. Horribly.

What was wrong with her? What kind of person had she become?

She picked up the photo of her dead twin that sat on the mantle. Pain sliced through her and more regret. Always there was regret.

Her gaze slid next to the photo of her two nieces. Both who refused to have anything to do with her—the youngest who was carrying a child right now. A grand-nephew or grand-niece whom she’d never be allowed to know.

She had no family left. Her love life was in ruins, because she’d killed the mate she hadn’t realized she’d so deeply craved.

But he’d been a sociopath, and really, that would’ve been terrible for her reputation had word gotten out.

In a way Frank had been right. They weren’t so different. They both killed. They just went about different ways of doing it, and she never did the dirty work herself.

Her life was in a downward spiral, and she wasn’t sure she’d ever pull out of it. To top it off, the P.I.A. was closing in on her—bound and determined to find proof to bring her down.

A soft knock on her door had her glancing back at the entry in surprise.

Who could it possibly be? There were very few people who even spoke to her anymore. She sat in her condo, replying to work emails and taking phone calls only when things reached crisis status. She’d become, in all appearances, a recluse.

She set her drink down on the counter and tightened the satin robe around her waist before moving to answer the door.

The attractive man on the other side appeared to be in his late twenties, had a friendly smile, was neatly composed and wore a black suit.

“Ms. Feloray?”

“Yes.”

“May I come in? My name’s Bart Edwards, and I’m with the United States Government. I believe we’ve done some dealings in the past.”

Staggered that he should appear on her doorstep, she gave a quick nod.

“Yes, yes, come in.”

“Thank you. You’re a difficult woman to get a hold of.”

“I’ve been terrible at responding to my email, I do apologize.” She patted her hair, hoping it wasn’t as disheveled as it felt. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Whatever you’re having would be great.”

“Of course. Just give me a moment.” She moved into the kitchen, passing a mirror along the way. A quick glance revealed bloodshot eyes and snarled hair.

She was a mess. A complete mess. Really, she needed to compose herself and remind herself that she had a future. Both with men—though maybe not this one with the way she looked now—and with the forces she chose to work with.

Her hands shook as she poured him a drink. He stood by the counter behind her, waiting. Silent. A moment later she handed it to him, her brilliant smile not so forced now.

“Come. Sit with me in the living room. I have a marvelous view of Puget Sound.” She picked up her drink once more and walked to the other room, knowing he’d follow her.

Men always followed her. People always obeyed her. She was the authority.

Taking another large swallow of her drink, she was happy to realize that this time it brought her confidence back quite easily. She began to feel a little more normal—almost giddy as she took a seat on the couch and gestured for him to sit beside her.

“Tell me, how are things with our arrangement? Is the Army still happy with the products I’ve supplied?”

Bart took a sip of his drink and reclined on the couch, crossing one leg over another. “We’ve been watching with great interest in just how your drugs would effect our soldiers.”

“Have you now? And I assume you’re pleased?” She took another drink and adjusted her position on the couch so that her robe parted, offering him a view of cleavage.

To her disappointment, his gaze didn’t waver from her face. These government men were always so damn official.

Her lower lip jutted into a pout as she listened to him ramble. Really they were just words, and she wasn’t paying all that much attention. She’d already received a hefty, discreet payment from Uncle Sam for her drugs.

The same drugs that she’d used on Alicia and Nathan, actually.

“The arrangement has become a bit of an embarrassment, Ms. Feloray.”

Those words registered, however, and she sat up straighter, downing the rest of her drink and placing it on the table.

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

“We’ve had several soldiers—under the influence of the drug you gave us—have violent episodes that resulted in numerous innocent deaths. Deaths we must answer for.”

“My drug was always intended to bring out the violent instinct in human nature.” A sudden cramp had her nearly doubling over. She clutched her abdomen and gasped.

“We weren’t quite aware of just how potent it was—how a soldier might use that instinct to turn on his own people.”

“Well you should have known. How can I possibly be responsible for that?” Another agonizing spasm ripped through her and she doubled over. “
Oh God
. What’s happening to me?”

“It will be over soon, Ms. Felory. I promise.”

He stood, pulled rubber gloves out of his pockets and then pulled them on. Stepping forward, he took his glass and brought it to the kitchen.

She watched, through pain and clouded vision, as he washed it in the sink extensively, before setting it in the dishwasher.

Poisoned
. The realization sank in slowly. He must’ve slipped something into her drink while she’d been making his. She tried to retch, to bring up the drink’s contents, but her throat was closing tightly. It was becoming hard to breathe.

She fell to the floor, hands grasping the carpet as her mind began to grow dark.

And then he was there, kneeling beside her as he touched her forehead in a gentle caress. His face so young and handsome. Deceptively angelic.

“If I didn’t have to kill you, I know I would’ve enjoyed fucking you,” he said softly. “I hear you’re a great lay.”

He straightened and walked away. Her last vision was of black trousers moving toward the door, before darkness took over and she left the world on the soundtrack of her slowing heartbeat.

“And this book is done. Done, I tell you!”

Nathan sat on the couch, scanning through his email, and glanced up at Sage. For a moment he’d thought he was hearing things.

“Seriously? You’re finished?”

“One hundred percent finished and sent to my editor. I’m all yours.” She shut her laptop and stood, stretching her arms above her head.

“Best news I’ve heard all night. Congratulations, sweetheart. I’m sure the book is amazing.” He couldn’t resist teasing her with, “Does this mean you’re going to start putting out again?”

Not bothering to hide her snort of laughter, she met his gaze and approached him.

“You’ll just have to get used to me in the grips of deadline hell, honey.” His new wife curled herself into his lap and looped her arms around his neck. “And the rewards you’ll get for being patient.”

The feel of her soft bottom pressing into him had his dick tightening immediately. He reached out to cup her breast through her dress, thumbing a nipple, which was already hard. Her breathy sigh was music to his ears.

“I like rewards,” he murmured.

“Hey, you look good in those pants.” She nodded to his slacks. “Are those the ones you ordered on my credit card back in Cali that showed up a few hours too late?”

“They sure as hell are.” He nuzzled her neck. “I look good out of these pants, too, you know.”

“Mmm. I know.”

Two days after he’d been declared innocent, they’d flown to California and begun moving Sage’s belongings up to Washington. They’d made peace with Sage’s pack while there, though she knew her brother was still a little bitter about getting his ass handed to him on a platter, despite Nate having been outnumbered.

A week after returning to Washington they’d been married in a small ceremony on Grace’s property, surrounded by evergreen trees.

And ever since the wedding Sage had been head down in the sand to finish her book. If he calculated it right, she’d finished with just days to spare.

“You plan to start showing me those rewards now?” He lifted his hips, letting her feel his erection. “Because I’m a little tired of waiting.”

“Now is certainly better than later,” she agreed, tugging his head down to hers.

He covered her mouth with his and commandeered the kiss. Tasting his wife’s sweet eagerness as he stroked his tongue deep.

Easing his hand beneath her long, flowy dress, he traced his fingers up smooth thighs and found the damp fabric of her panties.

“Damn,” he muttered, and tugged them to the side to plunge two fingers into her slick heat. “You’re all ready to go.”

Her head fell back against his shoulder and she moaned, parting her thighs wider.

“I finished on a love scene,” she confessed. “And the whole time I just kept thinking about how I was going to ride you like a pony once I typed ‘The End’.”

“Jesus, woman.” He lifted her off him long enough to free himself from his jeans. “Sometimes you say the craziest shit, and it gets me so damn hot.”

He pushed Sage’s dress above her waist and tugged off her panties before tossing them to the side. And then he lifted her back onto his lap so that her thighs straddled his.

“Condom?” she asked breathily, running her hands over his shoulders.

“I’m a thirty-four-year-old alpha, sweetheart. They’re going to want me to start continuing the bloodline soon. Think you can help me with that?”

Desire and joy flashed in her eyes, before she sank down onto his hardened flesh.

“Was that in my job description?” she teased before her words ended on a sigh of pleasure. “I actually love the idea of carrying your child, Nate. I’ve always wanted to be a mother. I’ve missed this.” She slid farther down on him, squeezing her inner muscles around his dick. “Missed you.”

The vision of her carrying his baby sent something primal and possessive through him. The feel of her riding him, still so tentative and yet utterly sexy, as she found her rhythm, swelled his heart with love and desire.

He slid his hand up and into her hair, cupping the back of her head and pulled her down for another hard kiss.

Taking control, he thrust up into her, harder and faster, and she took him without protest. She clung to him, her head thrown back and her face a mask of passion.

He didn’t last nearly as long as he wanted to, before they were both climaxing and clinging to each other.

When it was over, she buried her face against his shoulder and drew in a ragged breath.

“Sorry, Curls,” he muttered wryly. “A week and a half going without left me a little pent up.”