Ecstasy Unveiled

Nine

Wraith really hated family fucking meetings. Always had, always would. That he had a mate and kid now didn’t mean he loved to sit in Eidolon’s den and listen to his brothers chew him out for something.

Not that this would be an ass-chewing. Wraith had been a good boy—relatively, anyway—since Serena and his son had come into his life, and he wasn’t about to jeopardize the happiness he’d found.

So if this meeting wasn’t about him, he had a feeling it would be about Lore.

So fucking cool to finally not be the brother causing the trouble.

Mickey, Tayla’s ferret, attacked him the moment he walked through the front door of Eidolon’s Manhattan high-rise apartment. Wraith handed his infant son, Stewie, to Serena, just as the weasel scampered up his body and onto his shoulder, all chatter and nuzzling.

Serena laughed, a sound Wraith didn’t ever think he’d tire of hearing. Sometimes, he wondered how he’d lived without it for so long. “You weren’t kidding when you said he likes you.”

“Yeah,” he said, as he stroked a finger over the critter’s narrow head, “bugs the shit out of Tayla, too. Cracks me up.”

Serena lifted their son so he could see Mickey, and between the baby’s toothless grin and the weasel’s chatter, Wraith figured they’d end up the best of friends soon.

He left his mate and son in the living room with Tayla and Mickey, and as he was heading to E’s den, Shade came in, a baby in each arm. Behind him, Runa brought in the third of the triplets. She was smiling, but Shade didn’t look happy to be here. Obviously, the fight earlier was still too fresh. Which was odd, since Shade had never been one to nurse a grudge against E or Wraith—and Wraith had definitely deserved some continued resentment.

Wraith left him to get the kids settled and walked into E’s den. As usual, his brother was sitting at his desk, nose buried in a medical text, his dog, Mange, at his feet.

E looked up. “Is Shade here, too?”

“Yeah.” Wraith sank down on the leather sofa and sprawled out, kicking one foot up on the cushions.

Shade slammed into the room. “What’s this about?” He didn’t sit, just stood near the door, arms crossed over his chest, jaws working overtime on a piece of gum. “Because if it’s about Lore, you’re wasting your time.”

“It’s about Lore,” E said softly. “But mostly it’s about his sister.”

Shade narrowed his eyes. “How does he have a sister? His mother was human, so any sister would be long dead or really fucking old.”

“He does have a sister, and she’s not going to be happy with us if anything happens to Lore.”

“So what?”

Abruptly, Eidolon came to his feet. “Gods, Shade! How can you be so cavalier about Lore’s fate?”

Shade’s eyes sparked gold, and Wraith braced himself for Jerry Springer, round two. “I’m not. I’m just not as in love with him as you are. And I couldn’t give a shit about the sister. I don’t know her, and I don’t want to.”

“Well, here’s the thing,” Eidolon said. “I do know his sister. And you’re both going to want to.”

Wraith yawned. “I don’t.”

Eidolon shot him an annoyed look—as if Wraith hadn’t seen one of those before. “Yes you do. Because she’s not just Lore’s sister. I think she’s ours, too.”

“Hell’s bells,” Shade muttered. “I must have hit you in the head harder than I thought.”

“Her name is Sin,” E continued. “She’s Lore’s fraternal twin. And she’s a female Sem.”

Whoa. Wraith sat up straight and wondered if he looked as stunned, confused, and skeptical as Shade did. “That’s impossible.”

“I know. But I met her. Unless she’s using one hell of an illusion enchantment to change her appearance, she’s not faking it. I took DNA samples to be sure. We’ll know something tomorrow.”

Shade paced, his long strides forcing a U-turn every five steps. “Bullshit. You’re wrong. She put a spell on you or messed with your head.” He halted and swung around. “Hell, you’re so fucking desperate to save Lore, I wouldn’t put it past you to invent this new sister.”

“You think I’ve manufactured this?” Frost formed on E’s words, and shit, things were going to go critical.

Wraith shoved to his feet. “Ah… look. E’s got a hard-on for Lore, but he’s not a liar.” Gods, when had he become the voice of reason in the family?

Shade barked out a laugh. “So you think we should just roll over and let Lore kill Kynan so this sister doesn’t get her little feelings hurt?”

“Fuck that,” Wraith said. “Lore isn’t touching Kynan. But it’s a non-issue right now, since the angel took him. He could be dead.”

“What a shame,” Shade said in a taunting tone as he swung his head toward Eidolon in a blatant attempt to rile him… and it worked. E lunged.

Wraith caught him, and in one easy, fluid motion, shoved him against the wall. This was crazy. These two had never been at odds like this before. It wasn’t like E to be so hot-tempered, and it wasn’t like Shade to be so callous. Something was seriously wrong.

“We’re not doing this,” Wraith gritted out. “Not in a house full of kids. So you boys need to step off, or I’ll lay you both flat.” His threat pretty much flew in the face of what he’d just said about not fighting, but E and Shade were too busy snarling at each other to notice.

Shade put his fist through the wall. “No problem. House won’t be full of kids, because we’re out of here.” He moved toward the door.

“Shade!” Eidolon’s booming voice halted their brother in his tracks, though he didn’t turn around. “If you ever accuse me of trying to pull off a deception like that again, you’ll need more than Wraith to save you.”

Shade’s fists clenched at his sides, and for a long, drawn-out moment, the tension vibrating the air danced on Wraith’s skin. Finally, Shade stalked out, and the room seemed to breathe easier. At least, until E tried to follow.

“I don’t think so.” Wraith held him against the wall until the commotion outside and the slamming of the front door made it clear that Shade, Runa, and the little ones were gone. The moment he released E, his brother took a few laps around the room, dropping cuss-bombs with every step.

“What the fuck is wrong with him?” E asked.

“Him? You’re both being assholes.” Wraith folded his arms over his chest. “E?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you really think this Sin chick is legit?”

Eidolon stiffened. “You doubt me, too?”

Wraith chose his words carefully, not wanting to send E into orbit again. “It’s just damned convenient. I know you’re not fucking with us, but what if she is? What if this is a scam to help Lore kill Kynan?”

“I don’t know, Wraith. I really don’t.”

Man, what a freak show. “What if it’s true? What would it mean that there is a female Sem in the world?”

“Best guess?”

Wraith nodded.

“Chaos,” Eidolon said grimly. “From what I’ve seen, this female is chaos on legs.”

Three A.M. New York time took forever to arrive.

Sin had hung out at the assassin den for a while, had won six hundred Sheoulin gold marks in two games of pool, but ultimately, the wait had driven her aboveground and back to Lore’s place. At least in his house, she could feel him, could hold on to the hope that he was still alive.

Finally, as the clock struck the devil’s hour, the dagger in Sin’s hand began to glow. The heat seeped into her palm and up her arm to her brain, as though it had plugged into its target’s life force.

Idess was a great distance away, but thanks to the Harrowgates, thousands of miles translated to seconds of travel time. Which was good, since Sin only had sixty minutes to work with the dagger.

She stepped into the gate near Lore’s shack. Closing her eyes, she let the dagger guide her hand over the lit maps of the world and Sheoul. When her fingers touched down, she opened her eyes once more.

The lines in the walls shifted, bringing Canada into detailed view. The dagger guided her hand to the north-west, to the Yukon Territory. Once again, the lines rear-ranged, focusing on the remote province. And then her finger came down near the center, and the Harrowgate opened up into a forest—and about three feet of snow.

Mother. Fuck. Did Canada not know it was May?

Idess must know she was being tracked, and she was going to make this as difficult as possible. Furious, Sin tapped the maps until she came out in Sheoul, at the gate near the assassin den. She hurried to her quarters, changed into her cold-weather gear, and hit the Harrowgate at a run. As she tapped the map to get back to Canada, she glanced at her watch.

Dammit! Half an hour wasted. She practically dove out of the Harrowgate, cursing up a storm in every language she knew. Not that she was fluent in any but English. She just knew a lot of cuss words.

Almost instantly, the cold ate her curses as her breath froze in her throat and nose. With every step, her boot broke through the thick crust of ice on top of the snow, slowing her down and pissing her off.

Sin was so going to torture Lore’s location out of this bitch.

Hands shaking, she peeled back her parka sleeve and checked her watch. Time was nearly up. And then, ahead… a lone figure stood in a clearing, wearing nothing but jeans, boots, and a damned tank top. How nice that abductor chick was impervious to the cold, while Sin was about to freeze to death.

“Where is he?” she called out. “Where is my brother?”

Idess blinked. “Brother?” For some reason, she smiled. “No worries. He’s fine.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t care.”

In Sin’s hand, the dagger vibrated, hungry for another taste of the female’s blood. But as Sin moved forward, Idess moved back.

“Let Lore go,” Sin growled.

“That’s not possible.”

“Then I’ll kill you.”

“It’s not going to be easy.”

“Nothing worthwhile ever is.” Sin took another step forward. Idess took another back. “Damn you! Lore can’t be held prisoner. He needs… he has needs.”

“Yes,” Idess said flatly. “I’ve discovered that.”

“If you’ve let him suffer—”

“I haven’t.” She glanced down at her watch and smiled. “Looks like our time here is done. If you want your brother returned, you’ll have a name for me next time we meet.”

“A name?”

“The name of the person who hired you and Lore.”

Sin sucked in a harsh breath and nearly choked on the icy air. “Can’t,” she wheezed. Jesus, even if she knew who hired them, to tell would break the assassin code and earn you a fate way worse than death.

Idess shrugged. “Then you won’t see Lore again.” She waggled her fingers and disappeared, leaving Sin half-frozen and furious in the middle of a godforsaken forest.

Idess had been gone almost twenty hours. Twenty freaking hours. She’d needed only an hour to evade Sin, and scenarios of what might have gone wrong kept tripping through Lore’s head. Worry, helplessness, and hunger gnawed at him, and he’d had to take care of his physical needs with annoying frequency.

For some reason, his releases had been unsatisfying, and tension remained just below the surface of his skin, as if at any moment his skin could split, releasing his inner demon for a devastating rampage. His body had experienced Idess, and it was her touch it craved, which could be a serious fucking problem if his usual methods for rage control began to fail.

So yeah, twenty hours spent worrying, jerking off, and plotting an escape that involved seducing Idess into letting him go. It was the lamest escape plan in the history of lame escape plans. She was two thousand years old. No way was she falling for the old I Love You So You Can Trust Me ploy.

Which wasn’t to say that he wasn’t going to try. He just didn’t have high hopes for it.

He did, however, have high hopes for his other plan. Because when he’d cuffed himself while under the bore worm’s influence, his subconscious had been in self-preservation mode. He’d done a shitty-ass job, and with little else to do during the last twenty hours, he’d managed to work his left wrist out of the cuff, and if he could get Idess close enough, he could snare her.

But she needed to hurry back. In addition to his impending rage-out, his chest had begun to burn. Detharu was summoning him. Worse, the bond’s pulse, which grew stronger and faster as his deadline approached, had just kicked up a notch.

He’d been here for almost two days. Almost two days closer to Sin’s death. Assuming she was still alive, where did she think he was? She had to be worried. At least, as worried as Sin got about anything.

The sound of footsteps shocked his heart into a stuttered beat, and he quickly snapped his wrist back in the cuff, leaving it loosely closed. His gaze glued to the doorway, he held his breath as he waited to see whether Idess or Sin would walk through.

Idess. Strangely, he was as relieved to see her as he was suddenly afraid for Sin, and how fucked up was that?

Then she smiled, and his mouth dried up. That was a very wicked smile.

“So,” she said. “The Seminus female? Seems she’s your sister.”

Control was at a premium right now, and it took every last drop of it to keep from lunging at Idess and demanding answers. “I’m aware of that. If you did anything to her—”

“I said I wouldn’t.” She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “I got her to follow me to the Canadian wilderness. I’ll have to keep avoiding her… tonight I’m thinking I’ll start in China, and then maybe bounce around a little. Do you think she’d like to see the Great Wall?”

Relieved that Sin was okay, Lore relaxed and put on a nonchalant smile. “Sin likes to travel.”

“Good. So do I.” She held up her hand, and bless her little angel heart, she had a bag of fast food. The scent of burgers and fries made his mouth water.

The sight of a long, creamy expanse of stomach between Idess’s bunched-up tank top and low-slung jeans did, too. His stomach growled and his cock hardened as his body played tug-o-war with its two hungers.

“You hungry?”

“You can’t even imagine.”

Regret swirled in her eyes. “I really am sorry, Lore. I’m not practiced at holding anyone captive.”

“Yeah, your rookie is definitely shining through,” he said gruffly. He didn’t know how to deal with a captor who was actually nice. If she’d beaten him or taunted him or even just said nothing at all, he’d be right in the zone. But Idess left him in a state of what-the-fuck-do-I-do-now, when he normally knew exactly what to do in any situation.

She also left him in a state of arousal, and he definitely knew what to do in that situation.

He had to get her naked. And chained up. And if the signals she’d given off during and after her feeding were any indication, she wouldn’t mind. No, she’d been hot for him—that much had been certain.

She sank down next to him, and her hand came up to cup his cheek. The gesture was so tender, so intimate, that once more, he wasn’t sure how to react. His head felt like a damned Ping Pong ball.

“I’m sorry I was gone so long. Believe it or not, I’m trying to find a way out of this.”

“Ah… keys?” he suggested. “That would get me out of this.”

One corner of her mouth cocked up in a flirty little half-smile. “Nice try.”

“So that’s a no?”

“That’s a no.”

He glanced at the bag. “Could I get something to eat then?”

“I wasn’t sure what you like, so I got a Coke, burgers, fries, tots, and a chicken sandwich.” She gave him a puppy-dog-did-I-do-good look that made something inside him melt when nothing should be melting for this woman. His dick twitched, and okay, not everything was melting.

“At this point, I’d eat a fucking cactus,” he muttered, and her shoulders slumped a little. And he actually felt bad about making her feel bad.

Welcome to Stockholm Syndrome.

She handed him the bag and waited as he wolfed down the chicken sandwich and fries. When his stomach stopped rebelling so loudly, he slowed down. “So. Tell me about yourself.”

She blinked. “Me? There’s nothing to tell.”

“You’re two thousand years old, and you’re saying you have absolutely nothing to talk about?” He downed half the soda. “Tell me something about how you were born. Were your parents human?”

For a long time she sat there, long enough for him to eat one of the two burgers. One delicate hand came up to worry her ponytail as she spoke. “I was born of an angel… I was switched out with my mortal parents’ true infant daughter. They were slaves in a wealthy Roman household.”

“So you grew up thinking you were human?”

“Yes.”

He had, too, but deep down, he’d always felt different, and in the 20/20 hindsight, he could see the neon signs. Like the one where his mother screamed, “You’re the spawn of the devil!” And, “I should never have let that demon plant his seed in my womb.” Sure, all the doctors in the sanitarium said his mother was insane, but her “delusions” never changed, and the friends who had been with her the night they’d “summoned Satan” had confirmed everything his mother said. They hadn’t believed the dark-haired stranger with the tattoos on one arm was Satan himself, but they were sure he was either some sort of demon, or a con artist.

They were right on both counts.

“Was there ever anything that made you stand out?” he asked, mainly to get out of the past. “Did you feel different from everyone else?”

“Not all.” She twisted one of the gold bands in her hair the way she’d twisted her palm around his cock. “I felt perfectly at home until my nineteenth birthday.”

“So you lived a normal life? Married? Kids?”

“Not even close.”

He wasn’t a historian, but he’d thought that back in those days, when lifespans were short and girls married young, Idess would have been a rarity. It was probably rude to ask, but it was also rude to chain someone to a bed, so fuck it.

“Why not?”

“It’s a long story.”

He tugged on his chains. “It appears that I have nothing but time.”

Idess shifted, but he had a feeling that no matter how comfortable she got next to him, she wasn’t going to get comfortable with this subject. He’d definitely poked a bruise here.

“At the age of sixteen, I was given as a gift to the son of a nobleman.”

“But wouldn’t you have to be of noble birth or something to marry?”

“It wasn’t to marry.”

Her pained tone set his teeth on edge. “For sex? Like, a prostitute?”

“As a mistress. I was considered very beautiful,” she said, without an ounce of pride. “My virginity was the gift. I was with him for two years, but when he took a wife, I was sent to a cruel friend of his. If I pleased him, I was to become either his mistress, or a toy to share with friends.”

“Your master was a dick.” Man, he wished he could go back in time and kick that guy’s ass. Hard.

She laughed. “Before he could touch me, my brother Rami came for me, and the friend died a suitably horrible death in battle a few years later.”

He purred with approval. “God, I love a bloodthirsty woman.”

“Well, you are an assassin.”

“I wasn’t always.” A note of defensiveness crept into his voice. “I’m more than a killer.” Though, was that true? Even he doubted his own words. He’d been nothing but a killer since the day he got his gift. And when he’d gone to work for Detharu, his killer status had only been secured. He’d even earned the title of First Assassin. How special. Yeah, he was real proud to be so good at offing people that he’d won an award.

He was such a piece of shit.

“How are you more?” There was no condemnation there. Only curiosity, and he couldn’t answer. Her hand came up to his chest, right over his slave mark, and a sweet, balmy heat broke out over his skin. “Your master… he can summon you through this, yes?”

“Yes,” he said hoarsely. He concentrated on bringing his libido down, concentrated on the odd cooling sensation in her hand. It wasn’t working. “He’s been trying all day.”

Her hand froze, and her nails dug into his skin. The luscious pleasure-pain made his breath catch. “What will happen if you don’t go?”

“The pain will gradually get worse, until I need to go or suffer in agony.”

She sucked in a startled breath. “How long?”

“Depends on how bad he wants to see me. And I’ll tell you right now that he’s got a real burr up his ass about it.”

She closed her eyes and bowed her head. Her ponytail slid around, brushing his waist, and man, what he wouldn’t give to free her hair, let it shroud his body in silk as she kissed her way down. “How bad is it? Right now, I mean.”

“It burns,” he said, and it wasn’t a lie. He felt like he had a hot iron on his chest. “But your hand… it’s cool. It feels good.”

She lifted her head. “I can get you ice.”

“Doesn’t work.” He covered her hand with his—his right hand, partly because his left was in a precarious position in the loose-fitting cuff, and partly because he could touch her with his dermoire-marked hand as long as it was still braceleted in the Bracken Cuffs. “But this is helping. I don’t know why. Your touch is magic.”

He was supposed to be seducing her. Supposed to be making her believe she was beautiful and perfect and sexy. Supposed to be doing all of that to get the fuck out of here. But suddenly, he wanted to do it because she was all those things. He brought her hand to his mouth. Though his chest began to burn again, it was worth the discomfort to be able to brush his lips across the soft skin of her knuckles. “You make me burn far more than anything my bond can do.”

She made a small surprised sound, just a whisper of air, a catch of her breath. “If you’re trying to seduce me, I told you it won’t work.” And yet, she was breathless, and he could scent her spicy arousal. When she shifted, the neckline of her top gaped, revealing deep cleavage that was at once too much flesh, and not enough.

“Oh, it’ll work,” he drawled. “It just won’t get me free.”

She bristled. “Then what is your plan? You have to have one. I would.”

He rocked his head back against the wall and watched her through half-lidded eyes. “Come closer.”

“So you can try to hurt me? I don’t think so.”

“No,” he murmured. “So I can touch you. Everywhere.”

She stared at him as if his words were a trick, but his incubus senses picked up the sound of her heart beating faster, her breaths coming in a rolling stutter, and he knew she was putting his audio to visual. “You’re a pig,” she said, with a lot less conviction than he knew she was capable of.

“You want me to turn into a raging monster?” Actually, he wasn’t in much danger at the moment, but she wouldn’t know that. He just… wanted her.

“You have plenty of slack in your chains. If you need release, you have a hand…” She cleared her throat. “The bathroom is right over th—”

“I need to touch,” he growled. “I’m an incubus, Idess. I need contact. A female. You. This is torture.” Sure, he was playing on her guilt, but he wasn’t lying. Having her so close and being unable to do anything about it was killing him.

Her chin came up, all haughty. “You ask too much of me.”

“Then, will you…” He took a deep breath. “Will you kiss me?”

Her lids flew up. “What? No. I can’t.”

“Is it against your angel rules?”

She swallowed hard enough for him to hear. “No, but—”

“Then give me that at least.”

“I don’t have much experience with kissing.” Her gaze jerked away, and he felt the odd need to comfort her.

“Neither do I,” he admitted.

“Liar,” Idess whispered.

“Not about this,” he whispered back.

Their gazes locked. Tension bloomed like a Sheoulin rose, dark, beautiful and, potentially, poisonous. And then, with agonizing slowness, she leaned forward and braced herself on his shoulders. The first, fleeting contact of her lips against his sent a buzz of lust through him. The second contact was bolder, lingering, and the buzz grew strong enough to send reverberations all the way to his toes.

She might not know what she was doing, but it didn’t matter, because what she was doing was enough. More than enough. He lifted his face to meet hers, to intensify the kiss that was already building steam. When her tongue flicked timidly across his bottom lip, he jerked as if he’d been goosed and damned near forgot why he’d asked her to kiss him in the first place.

Steeling himself, he eased his wrist out of the cuff. Flexed his fingers. Wished he could touch her, could run with this kiss and see where it would lead.

Instead, he struck.