“So? How does she do it?”
Cain grabbed a plate of food from her dresser and held it out. “I’ll tell you while you eat.”
She caught a whiff of maple syrup and was sold. “Did you make this?”
“I did.”
“You cook, too? You know that’s not playing fair, right?”
“What?”
“Gorgeous men are supposed to be deeply flawed and relatively helpless. You’re neither, which gives you an unfair advantage over the entire man-loving population.”
A slow, warm wave of pleasure rippled out of him at her statement. It felt so good, she wondered if she should compliment him again to see if she could get another heady dose of yum.
His grunt was hinted with a touch of amusement. “I may not be helpless, but I assure you that my flaws run deep enough.”
She took a bite of food, which made her stomach wake up with a vengeance. “Pancakes make up for a lot of bad stuff, but then again, my taste in men is less than stellar. So what the hell do I know? The last guy I trusted sold me to demons for drugs.”
His face flushed red with anger. “He . . . what?”
She kept eating, wishing she’d shoved her mouth too full of food to talk. “No big deal. He got eaten, so the joke’s on him.”
She still had nightmares about those two days spent in the flooded basement swimming with monsters, but as long as she could joke about it, it couldn’t scare her nearly as much.
That was her theory, and she was sticking to it.
“So spill. What did Andra say?”
It took Cain a moment to regain his composure enough to speak. She was sure he was going to blow a gasket or something. Every few seconds, she felt a shard of fury slip out of him. She wasn’t sure how the whole magic stuff worked, but if she just stopped thinking and let herself go on instinct, the signals coming from him were much easier to decrypt.
He was worried about her. He was pissed as hell that someone had hurt her. He felt guilty that he was sitting here. But most of all, he was determined to fix something. She didn’t know what that was, but woe be to any who stood in that man’s way.
“Andra says she follows a trail of emotion. She goes to where the child was taken and tries to put herself in their place. Usually, the kids who are taken are terrified, and she said she can see that as a kind of faint, misty trail of light.”
Rory’s throat closed around that last bite, nearly choking her with fear. She shoved the half-empty plate at Cain and scrambled from the bed.
“What?” he asked, concern tightening his brow.
“There’s no way I’m going back to the last place where my visions disappeared. And even if I could stomach the idea of going back to that flooded building, I wouldn’t know where to begin with finding a trail of emotion. I have no clue who this person is, or what they might have been feeling.”
“Fear is a good guess.”
“What if it was one of those drugged-up humans? They certainly weren’t afraid. Most of them were too stoned out of their heads to be feeling much of anything.”
“Euphoria, then? There’s got to be something. I think you owe it to yourself to go back and try.”
Instant, ferocious denial swelled inside her. “You don’t know what you’re asking. You weren’t there. You have no idea what it was like.”
He stroked her temple with one finger, but that was all it took to give her a thin thread of calm to grasp on to.
“I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. If you like, we’ll forget all about it. Whatever you want.”
If she walked away now, he’d be stuck with her, and while she was sure the idea didn’t bother him much now, eventually it would. She never kept people around for long. And as much as she wanted to lie to herself and pretend it was the visions that drove them away, she knew better. She grated on people. She rubbed them the wrong way. Sooner or later, Cain would feel the same, and before that happened, she needed to work with him to fulfill her end of the bargain, because working with him after he was tired of her was going to hurt.
“No. You’re right. This is something I need to do.”
He frowned at her, and she felt a slight pressure behind her eyes and a soothing presence. “You don’t have to be afraid. I’ll be right there with you.”
Her spine went straight out of habit more than anything. “I’m not afraid. But I’m also not stupid. That building where Krag died has got to be crawling with monsters.”
“You mean the facility where Logan and Hope were held prisoner?”
“Yeah. They weren’t the only ones.”
“We cleaned it out. Demolished it. There’s nothing left but dirt and ash.”
“So it’s safe?”
“As we could make it.”
“Then we should go there.” Before she lost her nerve and decided to hide under her bed for the rest of her life.
“We’ll go, but Ronan needs to check you out first.”
“I feel fine.”
Cain waved toward the window. “Because of Andra’s protection. Once you go past her defenses, all bets are off.”
She groaned in dismay and got off the bed. She couldn’t quite bring herself to let go of Cain’s hand, because she knew visions lurked beyond his touch. “If I’m going to have some vampire playing brain surgeon, I’m going to do it after a nice hot shower.”
“There’s really no time for—”
She got right in his face, which was much easier to do with him sitting on the bed. “Listen, Cain. My whole world is a pile of suck and desolation right now. I at least deserve clean hair.”
He gave her a solemn nod. “Whatever you need. I won’t stand in your way.”
He was so f**king patient with her, so kind. All she’d done so far was use him, and he’d been with her every step of the way, right there, unwavering and solid, as if she could throw anything at him, and he could take it.
She wasn’t used to men like that. Usually they used her. And she hated it. Now she was doing the same thing to Cain, and it was only a matter of time before he caught on.
Assuming he hadn’t already.
Maybe he was wired differently. Maybe it was part of his old-school charm to be so . . . indulgent with her.
Rory wasn’t sure, but whatever it was, he was wrapping her up, bit by bit, tying her to him in ways she hadn’t even known were possible.
Even now, as she stripped and stepped into the shower, she could feel his concern for her traveling through the link between them. She could see through his eyes that he stood outside the bathroom door, staring at it.
A heavy pulse of desire hit her hard, making her grip the wall to stay on her feet. Her thighs clenched together, and suddenly her senses went bionic. She could feel every drop of water cascading over her body, drenching her with wet heat. The smell of her soap swirled in the air on thick tendrils of steam. Even the rainy, white noise of the water hitting the tub was louder.
She stared at the white wall, but all she saw was what Cain saw. His huge hand splayed over the wooden door, his fingers clenching as if he could reach through if he tried hard enough.
And just like that, she wanted him in here with her, all slick and nak*d.
A man as strong as him would have no trouble propping her against the wall and holding her there while he thrust deep. The question was whether a woman like her would be able to keep up. She’d had only two lovers, and neither one had been enough for her to wish for a third. Until now.
Her sexual experience was a pitiful drop in a rusty bucket.
A familiar presence wove through her thoughts, stroking against the most intimate parts of her. Desires, dreams, fantasies. Cain slipped in between all of them, lingering as if he had all the time in the world.
What she wouldn’t give to find out just what patience like that could do to her in bed. She didn’t know if she’d survive it, but she knew she was more than willing to give it a try.
Whatever you want.
The words hadn’t been meant as any kind of seduction, but they felt that way now. She could think of a whole mountain of things she wanted, and every one of them started with him walking through the bathroom door.
She found her connection to him, the humming heat encircling her neck. His essence thrummed in that link, tempting her.
All of this magical stuff was new to her, but parts of her seemed to instinctively know what to do. She had only to think of letting him feel what she did, and she could sense the reverberation of her emotions rippling between them. She let him feel her desire, let him feel what it did to her when she imagined him touching her.
Rory’s hands slid over her body, showing him what she liked most—what made her breath catch in her chest, and what made her whimper in pleasure.
His hand tightened into a fist against the door. She swore she felt his c*ck harden and throb, though she had no idea how that could happen. His lust was rougher than hers, but no less demanding. The jagged edges of it cut at her, making her ache to bring him relief.
Whatever you want.
She tried to show him what she wanted, but her inexperience left the fantasy flat and colorless. Cain grabbed hold of it, layering on color and texture, sounds and scents, until the picture he painted was vivid and glowing with promise.
His hands roamed her slick curves. He wrapped his body around her, trapping her under the hot spray. The cage of his nak*d arms and chest was one she reveled in, letting her fingers stroke and pet until he was shaking with tension.
His mouth found hers, so hot and hungry, her head spun from lack of oxygen. Not that she cared. As long as he didn’t stop, she was happy to let him do whatever he wanted.
He kissed his way down her neck, over her collarbone. His erection lay hard and heavy against her belly. His pulse pounded there, and she wanted to feel that beat inside of her more than she wanted her next breath.
Cain didn’t let her rush. Any other man would have been inside of her by now.
She was ready for him, slick and hollow and needy. She was hovering on the edge, so close to coming she knew it would take only one stroke to send her flying. But that stroke did not come. Not with a man as patient as Cain.
The fantasy played on, sucking her along for the ride. In her mind she saw him reach for the bathroom door knob. His fist tightened around it. Tendons in his arm shifted to turn the knob.
He was going to walk through the door. The real man, in the flesh. She was going to get everything she wanted, whether or not she could handle it.
A second later, Ronan’s pretty face appeared, looming large in her vision. He’d interrupted Cain—stopped him from opening the door.
The fantasy collapsed. Rory was left shaking and desperately needy, shivering under a stream of cooling water.
Outside the door, she could hear the two men talking. She could see both of their faces, their mouths moving. The actual words were lost to her, but the tone of the conversation was clear enough.
Time for Rory to get out of the shower and face her demons. Literally.
Chapter 16
It had been a long time since Cain had wanted to kill one of his allies, but Ronan was asking for it. He had to have known what was going on. Cain’s galloping heartbeat should have given him away if nothing else.