Raven (Kindred #1) (34 page)

But with the mass of him weighing her down, Zara was in increasing need of just one thing. To convey that, she parted her legs and tilted her hips up to grind herself against the stiff want growing behind his fly.

“Then why are you here? If you don’t care about what I need, why did you come?”

Elevating his weight, he picked her up and turned her over to force her onto her belly. Hanging over the arm of her couch, her arms flailed in a reflex which sent the end table and lamp clattering to the floor leaving her with no way to hold herself up. Brodie was already ramming her skirt up out of his way and disposing of her underwear with one practiced tug.

With one leg kneeling on the couch, he pinned one of her legs to the backrest, while the other was on the floor pinned down with his foot on top of hers. Open to him, two of his long fingers plundered her first.

He fucked her hard and fast with those digits until she was lubed up enough for his cock to take what it wanted. She hissed when his hand slid away and he smacked her ass before she heard the unbuckling of his belt.

“This is as much love as you’ll ever get from me,” he growled and then the rounded summit of his dick slid between her folds.

Holding her breath while he forged his way into her, she pushed back and began to undulate her hips, trying to squirm and pull him deep into her.

Each long, abrupt thrust garnered the speed needed to get her to the finish line. Even when he withdrew, her body pulled him back in, sucking his shaft so far into her that the crest of his member met her cervix, making her cry out.

“You’re addicted, beau,” she panted as he fucked faster and faster. “You can’t help yourself. You want me too much.”

If all he wanted to do was use her for his own gain then there was no need for this. If they were being watched or listened to then this encounter was more likely to compromise them in harm not favor. Brodie knew that, he was smarter than she was when it came to this stuff, yet he’d done it anyway.

Driving into her, he pushed his dick deep, stretching and sating her insides while her hormones begged for more. “I’m here to teach you a fucking lesson,” he hissed. “You let yourself be used by guys like me and your pussy is gonna see a lot of action. Guys will fuck anything that moves. It means nothing to me. You mean nothing. You’ve got a snug cunt, ripe for fucking, and you deserve everything you get if you keep asking to be punished. You think I’d say no to a fuck like this?”

Sweat made her clothes cling to her tingling skin. The vast room had been cold, but the heat of this encounter was already fogging the windows. “Like what?” she gasped, swaying her hips side to side and with him still within her, her walls massaged his shaft. “A fuck that feels so good?”

He spanked her hard. “Fucking an innocent little flower who’s so idealistic that she really still believes I’m one of the good guys. You need to wisen up, baby. You stay this naive much longer, you’ll never make it out of this alive.”

He came out then plunged into her again. Taking her to the cusp of climax, he pushed in and pinned her hips down to collect her arms. Pulling them back, he made her shoulders concave and locked her wrists in one hand against his shoulder before taking the back of her neck to jerk her head up.

“You know we’ve got every second of this on tape. If you think about stepping out of line or compromising the Kindred, we’ll make sure your precious Saint Grant gets his very own copy of it.”

Maybe screwing her out here had been his plan all along if he wanted leverage to keep her quiet about her association with him. But blackmail only worked if a person wanted to keep something secret because they were ashamed.

Spitting her hair from her mouth, she smiled, though she knew he couldn’t see her amusement. “I’m not threatened by the idea of our association becoming public,” she said, wheezing out her words, and his grip loosened a fraction. “We concealed it while it was advantageous. You needed Grant to trust me and he does. He trusts me so much that I figured out his motivation. He’s trying to live up to your example. You’re the only one who can make him see sense. If the cost of my clarity is him finding out about us, then come to the office tomorrow and we’ll screw right there on his desk.”

For a second, he said nothing. “You’ve got a smart mouth, Bandini,” he ground the words out of his hoarse throat.

Confident that she had impressed him, she tried not to crow. “All the better to blow you with,” she said.

For half a minute, neither of them moved or spoke and Zara craved a glimpse of his expression, though she knew it was unlikely to betray much about his true thoughts. His mood became more explicit when he cursed into the night and spanked her before returning to his uniting of their bodies.

Still consumed by the intensity of their joining, each of his plunges into her wrought such friction that he conveyed his rage, though its cause could be any of a number of things that she couldn’t fathom now. Orgasm ripped through her with such ferocity that her head came back in time with her riotous scream and she wished for the ability to touch him.

She had no time to go limp; he hauled her back and called out a stream of vulgar curses, which no longer made her flinch. When his balls were empty and her void filled with his load, he released her to hang over the arm of her couch. She listened to him fastening his jeans before she planted her palms on the arm and pushed herself up to sit.

Standing toward the other end of the couch, he said nothing while she gathered the edges of her shirt together.

“I won’t visit him,” Brodie said. “Your scheme didn’t work.”

“Yes, it did,” she said, though she wouldn’t have categorized her need to see him as a scheme. “I had to know if I could trust you, to know if you still cared.” Taking her focus to the unlit candles, she exhaled. “If you didn’t come, I knew that it was over. I didn’t summon you here for sex, but that solidified the truth.”

“The truth?”

She shrugged at her ponderings. “Maybe our lives are too different. Maybe you lied to me to push me away or maybe you did it because you never trusted me.” Lifting her hips to wiggle down her skirt, she let her shirt stay loose over her chest. “But you do care about me, Rave. Deny it all you want, but I know you do.”

“I never got what Grant saw in you,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “Over the last few years he’s seemed more together, more grounded and once we started investigating you, Art suggested that maybe you were the reason because you were so responsibility motivated.”

Curious, but oddly relaxed, she stayed loose. “Now what do you think?”

“I think if anyone’s ideology has influenced him, it’s not yours. Do you really think that this can end without innocent lives being taken? Those guys in that lab, the ones that Tuck and me executed. They died following Grant’s orders. They were guilty of doing their jobs, they didn’t ask questions, didn’t know anything about Grant’s plans. Why do you think he had different labs doing different things? The guys in Quebec had no idea what the Florida lab was doing. Grant is being covert because he knows that what he’s doing is wrong.”

Zara wasn’t as naïve as Brodie was accusing her of being. She’d known the truth. She just hadn’t wanted to face up to it. Grant was wrong and conspiring to commit murder on a mass scale. Brodie actually went out into the world and killed who needed to be killed without hesitation, regardless of who they were, their knowledge base or motivation.

“What’s your point?”

Coming to her, he bent over her to grab her chin and wrench her head up. “You need to wise up. I am a cold-blooded killer. Sharpshooting might be my specialty, but I’m just as capable of cutting a man down up close. These hands,” he said, holding up the one that didn’t have a grip on her. “These hands that you have had all over your body, playing in your snatch, your hair, your mouth. The hands you have let smack your ass and squeeze your tits. Using the hands that you wish were dedicated to your pleasure, I’ve strangled men. I’ve cut them and snapped their necks. I’ve beaten men to death, while listening to them beg for their lives. Every man who gets the chance begs for fucking mercy. Do you want to know how many get it?”

Frustrated that he wouldn’t admit what they had, she was losing her patience. “I know what you are,” she said, whipping an arm up to bat his aside so she could surge to her feet. Her action forced him to straighten his spine, but that was all he did. He didn’t move away, so her body was flush to his. “I don’t want you to apologize. I don’t need you to explain or to change. I’m not naïve, but you’re blind.”

Lunging down, he didn’t retreat from her anger. He got up close, proving his physical superiority. “I’ll use you every chance I get,” he said, dragging his sneering eyes to her mouth. “I’m not a good guy who can save you. I’m a bad guy who doesn’t want to be saved.”

Except he did have some morals, some love. If he didn’t, he’d have taken out Grant long ago and this whole problem could have gone away. Then there was his uncle. Brodie loved Art, they had been integral in each other’s lives since Brodie’s birth and Art had control, proving that Brodie wasn’t quite the monster he portrayed himself as.

Searching for hope, she pleaded with him. “Why can’t you accept that I don’t want you to change?”

“So you’d be happy if I kept lying to you, every mission? Because I will. I don’t lie because I have to, I lie because I’m good at it. I like keeping secrets because trust is a weakness and it takes a long time to earn it.”

“You lied about Quebec to save me from carrying that burden and because you knew I had to face Grant without giving away the secret. And you probably doubted my poker face.” Because she hadn’t known how good or bad it was then either.

“Stop making excuses for me,” he said, growing tense.

“I’m not, I…”

Bearing down, he squinted and lowered his voice to a murmur. “If I’m such a good guy, why did I never tell you that I was the one who killed Sutcliffe’s nephew?”

“Tim,” she exhaled and couldn’t maintain her certainty any longer. “You shot him while he was kissing me.”

“That’s right, baby,” he said and his sneer grew smug. “You think I had to take him out then? I could’ve done it before he went into Purdy’s or after he fell out of your bed.”

“You were protecting me?” she asked, hazarding a guess as to why he chose that moment.

He scoffed. “It was sport. There was no need to kill him right then. But, bam, you should’ve seen the look on your face.” Confronted by his amusement, her knees buckled and she dropped to the edge of the sofa and leaned forward to cover her mouth. “Scaring off Sutcliffe was the goal and we didn’t want his kid recruiting you and giving him an edge. Didn’t scare the man out of bidding. That was a bust. As for giving him an edge… I guess we’ll have to wait and see who picks up the prize.”

Brodie swept up his jacket and began to walk away. Zara cast off her shock and stood with a proud chin to project her fortitude. “Actually, a bidder has already won. All parties have been notified of Mr. McCormack’s decision. Arrangements for the delivery of the device are being made as we speak.”

He spun around and pinned his glare on her and now that his amusement was gone, it was her turn to be smug. “Who?” he croaked and the darkness around him seemed to progress beyond the metaphorical.

“That information is proprietary,” she said and tried to keep her breathing even when he erased the gap between them. Slanting his weight forward, he drew a fingertip over one cheekbone and met her defiant eyes.

“Now you’re getting it, baby,” he whispered, reeking of a depraved sense of achievement. “Sex is free, trust costs lives.”

Understanding his detachment, she tried her best to match it and met his eye with her head held high and her hands on her hips, devoid of all emotion. “You don’t have to worry about me giving you either again,” she said.

Two fatal events had occurred since she’d met him and she now knew they’d both been perpetuated by him without her knowledge or inclusion. He’d had ample opportunity to clue her in and he’d chosen not to. Bereft, Zara wondered what else he had hidden from her.

If he wasn’t going to be forthcoming without her pressuring him, then she wasn’t either. Protecting herself had to be her priority. He’d made his own priorities obvious and she was nowhere near his list.

“I guess you should consider yourself excommunicated,” he said, but grabbed her chin to push his mouth onto hers.

Shoving away from the intimate contact, she wiped a hand over her lips before folding her arms. “Ditto.”

A sinister smile caught the corner of his mouth. He swept around, marched to her door, and departed. Loosening her body, she exhaled and looked skyward. The camera outside the window at her back would still be monitoring her so she didn’t want to betray how shaken up she was.

Having given the audience enough of a show tonight, Zara took herself into the shower to rid their joining from her body. She had been so sure that his showing up would prove how much he cared for her. Instead, his presence had reinforced just how little she knew about him.

Feeling more alone than she had before, Zara went to bed without answers or reassurance and she had no plan for how she would face the next day.

Ignoring the inevitable wouldn’t make it go away, despite how attractive that prospect was. So Zara made the time to go into Grant’s office with her notebook just before lunch. She had to open a dialogue about Game Time, because even if she couldn’t stop the handover, she had to be prepared for what she was going to face.

“I need to know where the device components are so I can have them brought to the meeting,” she said when she stopped in front of his desk with her pen poised, ready to write.

With a smile, he disregarded what he’d been working on to give her his full attention. “Perfect timing,” he said, bending in his chair to open a drawer from which he pulled two envelopes. The first he held up for her to take. “Reserve a rental van to be picked up at the date and time in here, use the alias and payment information that’s in there.”

The more information that she had, the more likely it was that she would be able to prevent disaster. By giving her such limited data, it became clear that without being explicit, Grant didn’t want her to have too many of those details. Having kept the secret of his plan for so long, it was probably second nature by now for him to be cagey, but Zara was disappointed to lose the chance she’d thought she had.

Trying not to show her disappointment, her pen fell to her side, but she kept the smile on her face. “How long will we need it for?”

“No more than twenty-four hours,” he said. Without closing the drawer he’d retrieved the envelopes from, he righted his chair at his desk before revealing a detail she had been trying to avoid. “Sunday is when it’s happening.”

“Sunday,” she said, sliding the envelope into the back pouch of her notebook. It wouldn’t have mattered if he said it was happening that night or next month, Zara wasn’t sure she was ready for the pressure of subverting the plot single-handedly.

Grant nodded. “Yes, all the information you’ll need is in that envelope. I’ll deal with informing Sutcliffe.”

Somewhere along the way, Zara had learned how to cast off shock with haste. Dealing with new information, processing it, and moving on were vital components to not missing important facts and to staying alive. “What is the other envelope?” she asked, eyeing the beige paper he was smoothing onto the desk surface.

He pushed it across the width of the desk with a single finger, and then smiled up at her as he locked his digits together. “That’s your loyalty bonus.”

“My what?” she asked, raising her eyes from the rectangle to his.

“Your loyalty bonus.” His features seemed to dance in delight. “Go on, open it.”

Putting her notebook and pen on the desk, she picked up the envelope that she dreaded opening. But his joy left her no option. He failed to contain his anticipation and that left her with a dragging anxiety, which she had to subdue.

So while focusing on the tucked in flap, she reassured herself that the envelope contained nothing sinister. Slipping the heavy triangular section of paper out of the vee holding it in place, she put a thumb inside to slide out the thin sheet inside.

She knew straight away that it was a check, the shape of the paper and its smooth printed surface were giveaway characteristics. Hesitating before she turned it over, Zara reminded herself to temper her reaction to whatever it read.

“A hundred thousand dollars?” she asked, not doing a great job of tempering anything.

“I know it’s not much in light of what this deal will pay us,” he said, returning to the open drawer to retrieve something else. “Catch.”

On instinct, her hand leapt up to catch what he’d tossed as per his request. Uncurling her fingers, she saw the flash of a Mercedes sign and closed them again in a snap. Her horrified eyes shot to his, but he was grinning in triumph.

“It’s in your new spot downstairs. Do you want to take it out for a spin? We could go somewhere for lunch.”

Glancing from the hefty check to the car key, she exhaled and sank into the chair just behind her. “This is hush money,” she murmured and the weight of sorrow brought tears to her eyes.

“No!” he declared. “Think of it as payment for services rendered. I would never have gotten through this final stretch of the deal without you.”

That didn’t make her feel any better. She felt like such a failure. Her best wasn’t good enough. She couldn’t dissuade him. She’d tried. And although she wasn’t sure if terrorists signed contracts, Grant had already accepted an offer and wouldn’t go back on his word now. Maybe if he had the strength of someone like Brodie on his side, he would have the confidence to stand up to a tyrant like Sutcliffe. Not too long ago, she’d have considered herself able to call on the Kindred for support. Not anymore.

The truth had finally sunk in. She was alone, not part of any team or a greater cause. Alone. Raising her focus, she found herself bolstered by the confidence and enthusiasm in Grant’s eyes. She wasn’t alone and never had been. Grant was a constant in her life. He’d been with her at the beginning, middle, and end of this escapade and his loyalty to her had never wavered.

Returning his smile, she folded the check and picked up her notebook to slide it in the back pouch. “Where do you want to eat?” she asked.

It was like her life had reset itself, being back here at CI going through the motions, her life was returning to its pre-Brodie routine. All of that would change if this deal went through.

Leaping from his seat, Grant strode to the hat stand by the door where his jacket was hung up. “I know this great little place where it’s private. I’ll guide you. It’s not on GPS. It’s not open to the general public”—he swung his jacket around his head to drive his arms into the sleeves—“we’re going to do amazing things together, Zar, amazing things.”

Considering that this could be the beginning of her new career in enabling terrorists didn’t make her feel any better about being part of this process. Dubious, she joined her boss beside the door and fought to maintain a grin. She should be grateful that he was spoiling her, but each dollar was soaked in blood.

Not long ago she’d thought herself capable of making a difference, but now she questioned every decision she’d made. Grant’s methods were different from Brodie’s but his intention was the same, to work to achieve safety for the vast population of this planet. Setting her mind on understanding Grant’s position and his ultimate goal, she wasn’t ready to give up.

Grant paused before opening the door to glance back at her. “I hope your boyfriend won’t be upset about the amount of time we spend together. After the success of this deal, I can only imagine that our time in each other’s company will increase. How is your relationship progressing?”

Relationship, that word was a joke. It implied fidelity and honesty. She’d had neither with Brodie. “It’s not,” she said. “We broke up.”

“Oh,” he said, loosening his fingers from the door handle and bringing himself around to face her.

“Yeah,” she said, hoping he wouldn’t ask for details.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, in such a way that he sounded anything but. “What went wrong?”

Wasn’t that the question of the century? No doubt it was one she’d never get the full answer to. “Different values, I guess,” she said. “He lied to me about a couple of important things.”

“It’s never wise to begin a relationship in a lie,” he said, gathering her hands into his as he became more serious. “Did he hurt you?”

“Physically, no,” she said, her gaze slid sideways. “But I thought we had something with the… potential to go all the way… I’d have done anything he asked me to.”

Loving a guy like Brodie meant handing your life to him. She imagined that if he chose to love a woman he would make it his mission to safeguard the gift of her love and that no feat would be unachievable if his lover was in need.

But she wasn’t that woman. Zara tried to give him a second chance, she tried to make amends. But Brodie didn’t want that chance, wasn’t interested in salvaging what they had. As it turned out, what they had was an illusion and no one could grasp and hold an apparition. The sickness in her heart still made breathing feel like a chore when she thought of him.

Grant’s thumbs stroked over her skin. “If you want him taken care of…”

Letting her eyes creep up to his, she tried to figure out what her boss was implying. If Brodie had said that to her she’d have known exactly what he meant. Grant’s meaning was a bit more ambiguous. She could send Grant to Brodie to “take care of” him and hope that the brothers would reach an accord, which might prevent the transaction with Sutcliffe from taking place.

But she knew each of the men well enough to doubt that eventuality. Even if they spoke rather than tearing strips of flesh from each other, neither would surrender their position. Especially not in favor of something as tentative as good sense.

“Thank you, but I think it’s best left as it is.”

“Ok,” he said, warming his expression with optimism. “Lunch will cheer you up, let’s go.”

Opening the door, Grant offered his arm. She took it and allowed him to escort her to her new vehicle. The rewards of the dark side were flashier, though Brodie claimed to be the one who resided in darkness.

Zara’s thoughts returned to her former lover with such frequency that she began to chastise herself for thinking of him. She was holding on to a dream of what she wanted him to be: hers. If she kept doing that, she would never let him go or find happiness.

Never thinking about him again was a tall order, but it was the only option available to her. She would never see Brodie again. She had no reason to. Her life, her future, depended on forgetting about her association with Raven.

Thinking of him by his alias rather than his birth name separated the enigma from the man. Brodie was the man she loved and Raven was the man who would never let him reciprocate her devotion.