On the Hunt

Page 24

He'd strip her out of all those proper clothes and get as much skin-on-skin contact as possible.
The play of sparks between them—the feel of minute traces of his power soaking into her skin—
would be enough to light the sheets on fire. And even though he wasn't supposed to want a woman like Viviana, the luceria thought they'd be good together.
Who was he to argue with centuries of proof that the system worked? If the luceria wanted him to have her, he was going to enjoy convincing her to play along with tradition.
And part of that convincing was getting her thinking in the right direction.
He cupped the back of her neck and pulled her toward him. She went along for the ride, closing the distance between them. She slid forward on the seat, which shoved her skirt up her thighs.
Neal stepped up, wedging himself between her knees so he could get as close as he needed to be.
Her eyes slid to his mouth and he knew in that moment that he had her. Victory surged through him, making him feel stronger, more powerful. Just the thought of this woman wanting to kiss him was enough to send him into overdrive. Bring on the battle. Let a dozen charging Synestryn bear down on him. He'd take them all out. Not one of them would get close to his lady.
A low sound of warning rose up from his chest and there wasn't a thing he could do to stop it.
He felt Viviana stiffen slightly under his hand, but it was too late for second thoughts now.
He pressed his lips to hers, forcing himself to keep things light. No open mouths. No tongue.
Just the contact of her lips on his.
It wasn't even close to enough.
He wanted more. Desire spread through his body, pooling in his gut, making his limbs vibrate.
His luceria was freaking out, hopping around on his skin as if celebrating the contact.
Against his will, his fingers tightened around her neck, stroking slightly over her bare nape. He wanted to taste her there, to kiss and suck and bite while he took her from behind.
His cock was throbbing and swollen, and the need to push her legs wide and rub himself against her was swiftly taking over all rational thought. He slid a hand up her thigh, feeling the silkiness of her stockings, then the even softer texture of her bare skin. Thigh-highs. Naughty girl under all that prim-and-proper.
Just the thought made him lose control.
Neal opened his mouth to deepen their kiss, but she was way ahead of him. Her tongue danced across his lips, flicking against his, making his blood heat. She fisted her hands in his shirt, jerking him closer, and all he could think was that he wished he hadn't put it back on. He'd give anything to feel her palms against his bare chest again—feel his lifemark arcing to connect with her.
She slid to the edge of the seat, widening her thighs to make plenty of room for his body. The bite of her fingernails through his shirt was an exquisite torture, but not nearly as good as the sharp little nips of her teeth on his bottom lip.
A soft, feminine moan filled the space between them. Cold air swirled around them.
He'd have to keep her warm, cover her body with his. Not that he'd mind. He'd be her living blanket any day of the week and count himself a thousand kinds of lucky.
Neal cupped her breast, feeling the slippery silk fabric of her blouse warm between them. Her nipple puckered in his palm, though the damn layers of fabric she wore kept him from feeling it the way he wanted. He wondered if her nipples would tighten like that for his mouth, too.
Only one way to find out.
A sound of cracking ice came from behind him. Instincts as deeply a part of him as his own bones rose up, shouting a warning.
Neal ripped himself away from Viviana, drawing his sword as he moved. A dump truck full of agony unloaded on his head, tearing a pained cry from his throat.
He fought the need to double over, gritting his teeth to stay standing. The tip of his sword trembled, but he kept it up.
"What is it?" asked Viviana, her voice tight with sudden fear.
"Heard something."
Slowly, the pain receded until it was no longer draining him of strength. It still pounded through him, but now it was at the level where it was just pissing him off.
He searched the area, channeling tiny motes of power to his eyes so he could see through the murky darkness.
Nothing. No movement, no glowing eyes, nothing but the white landscape and the muted silence of snowfall.
"I guess it was just a tree branch cracking in the wind," he said. His instincts weren't usually so faulty, but he had been more than a bit distracted a few seconds ago. "We should go inside."
Where he could protect her better if the shit did hit the fan.
He turned around just in time to see her pull her skirt back down, giving him only the briefest of glimpses of black silk stockings against pale, smooth skin.
Her mouth was red, and a few strands of hair had escaped her spinsterish bun. He could see her rapid pulse shimmering in the fabric covering her breasts. Her nipples were still hard, making Neal's mouth water.
He promised himself they'd get back here—to where her mouth was on his and he could feell the damp heat between her thighs against his fly. They'd get back to that moment, and when they did, he wasn't going to stop until she lay hot and sated beneath him.
Maybe not even then.
Unfortunately, business came first. Once they got the gadget, he'd take her back to Dabyr, where he could take his time with her. Linger. He definitely wanted to linger over the lovely Viviana Rowan. No question there.
Being careful not to touch her skin, he zipped his jacket up over her to keep her warm. The thing was way too big, falling over her hands, but it would work until they could find something that fit her better. And if any demons came their way, the magically enhanced leather would provide her with at least a little protection.
Once she was bundled and warm, he turned his attention back to the job at hand.
Professor Reynolds lived in an old farmhouse in the country, with only a few neighbors visible in the distance. Round bales of hay dotted the surrounding land, their tops covered in the accumulating snow. Everything was white and pristine, including the sidewalk leading up to the professor's front door.
Neal helped Viviana traverse the slippery sidewalk in her high heels. She rang the bell. Neal looked up at the house, but no lights came on.
"Maybe he's a heavy sleeper."
She rang again. And again.
A bad feeling started to creep up Neal's spine. "Could he be out of town?"
"I talked to him earlier today. He didn't mention anything like that."
Neal reached for the knob. It turned easily. "Unlocked."
"Not much need for locks out here. The professor likes it because it's quiet and he can work without interruption."
The house was dark. Neal stepped inside, drawing his sword. Just in case. "Stay behind me."
The foul smell of sewage filled the air, and beneath that was a musty animal smell. Synestryn.
They'd been here.
There were stairs leading up on his left and three doors exiting the entryway.
"His study is to the right," whispered Viviana. He could hear the fear in her voice, the worry. As much as he wanted to comfort her, now was not the time.
Neal peered through the doorway she indicated. Snow had made it bright outside, and some of Neal peered through the doorway she indicated. Snow had made it bright outside, and some of that light streamed in from a window behind a huge desk. A man was slumped over the desk, lying at an odd angle.
Neal hoped the man was just asleep, but he doubted they'd get that lucky.
He stepped inside the door and positioned Viviana with her back to the wall. As he moved, he inadvertently cleared the path for her to see the professor. She let out a frightened gasp and started to move toward him. Neal grabbed her arm and pushed her back. "Stay here. I'll check him out."
"Something's wrong with him, isn't it?"
Neal didn't reply. He crept forward, keeping his eyes open for signs of movement. Some of the Synestryn were small and he didn't want any of them getting near Viviana.
A cold tendrill of wind wrapped around Neal's legs, and as he stepped forward, he could see the window had been broken out, leaving a gaping, bloody hole. He could also see that the bottom half of the professor's body was missing. The top half was lying on the desk and blood dripped down onto the leather office chair.
"Oh God," breathed Viviana. She was right next to him now, staring in horror at her friend's remains. She stepped forward, but Neal caught her before she could get too close.
"There's nothing you can do for him. We need to get the gadget and go." Before the Synestryn found them, too. "Where would he have kept it?"
Her eyes were brimming with tears, and the tendons in her neck were standing out as she struggled not to cry. "We need to call the police. Find the person who did this."
"It wasn't a person. It was a demon, like those that came for you tonight. If we call the police, chances are we'll just get them killed, too. We need to focus."
She was staring at the body, her eyes wide, her chin quivering.
Neal moved to block out the sight of her dead friend. He cupped her face in his hands and tilted it up to look at him. Her skin was so soft and warm under his fingers. He felt delicate sparks of energy jumping from him into her, making his palms tingle. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I wish we'd gotten here sooner."
"He was a sweet old man. Why would anyone do this?"
Good question. Clearly the man wasn't blooded, or they'd have taken the whole body and not left a pooll of blood lying wasted on the floor. Synestryn fed on traces of ancient blood running through certain humans. They used it to fuel their magic, but this man hadn't been kill ed for that, which left only one reason. "He had something they wanted."
"The artifact he was studying for me?"
Neal figured it would crush her to think she'd been the cause of her friend's death. "We can't know for sure. What I do know is that we need to find it."
She sniffed and nodded. Her eyes closed and he felt the strangest sensation vibrate in the air between them. It was almost as if she were pulling on those sparks he kept giving off—like they were iron filings and she was a magnet.