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I grimace and nod. “That was the implicit message.”
She looks both disgusted and unsurprised. “The other implicit message being that we’re not going to make it through this alive.”
I don’t counter her assessment.
Asha hangs her head. But when she lifts it again, it’s not despair I find, but determination. “Well, the Enforcers are just underestimating us then, aren’t they?” she says.
“Are they?”
She touches my cheek. “We can do anything together. Even this.”
“But your dark magic…?”
Her jaw tightens. “I won’t use it unless I have to. But if I do, Simon won’t stand a chance. Those fucking Enforcers can just sit back and be cowards, either way, because we’re going to be the winners of this fight.”
Before my doubts have a chance to color the silence of my response with dread, she takes me by the hand back into our room. Her hand is so much smaller than mine. Her delicate scent washes over me.
Braxton and Orson sleep on the bed nearest the door, Trouble providing the buffer between them. Both men rest soundly, evidenced by their slack-jawed repose. “I told them we needed a bed tonight,” says Asha, crawling beneath the covers. She disappears into a blanket mound, then reaches out an arm and curls her index invitingly.
I grin and pursue her, but before I slip under the sheets, she stops me with a hand thrust against my crotch, again only her arm jutting from the sheets. She gives my waistband a tug, then my shirt, then wags her finger. As though in further instruction, her arm disappears again only to reemerge a moment later with her clothes clutched in her fist. It opens and she deposits her articles on the floor. Mine join the pile. Now with the requisite amount of nude to enter, I lift the blankets and slide my body in alongside hers.
In the dark of her lovenest, I sense Asha only by touch and sound and scent. The delicate satin texture of her bare thigh crossing my legs. The noise she makes when her wet folds glide along the length of my shaft. The smell of her arousal as she puts me inside her, like the sudden release of aroma when a flower is crushed in the palm of one’s hand.
I place my hands on her ass while she rides me. The heat of our sex creates a balmy climate under the blankets, a jungle all our own. Her skin becomes slick and I taste her sweat when I take her left breast into my mouth.
Climaxes seize both of us at the same time and I don’t let go until exhaustion takes its place. I barely manage to lower the blankets over our heads before falling asleep, Asha laid atop me, the balm of her touch dissolving my fear. My cock is firmly inside her, claiming her for my own.
This, this is what I need, always. Asha with me. I can face anything with her by my side.
EIGHT
Asha
It’s early morning the next day after finding the bodies, and we’re half on the job. From a cafe opposite the apartment complex, we observe the Enforcers coming and going like a swarm of busy bees around their hive. No doubt, they’re getting used to the horror my brother leaves behind, but I’m not sure I ever will.
While sipping gingerly from my latte, I watch them carry out the body bags into a series of ambulances. There’s something so insensitive about those bags. Like the things inside are just objects to be transported rather than bodies that used to be living, breathing people who had endured something awful.
I peer down at my bagel and decide I no longer want it.
It’s shocking that in all this time I haven’t yet grown desensitized to death and violence. Score one for Asha’s humanity. I guess. Although, it feels like being desensitized would be a hell of a lot easier.
With my appetite spoiled, I turn my thoughts away from breakfast and focus on the task ahead of us. The one our bosses think will claim our lives. What do they know? Their understanding lacks the intimate knowledge I possess. I’ve faced off against these enemies, I know what they’re capable of. The Blood Mages required surprise to launch their attack, an element they lack as we descend on their position.
As for Simon, I missed one opportunity to end his terror, but I won’t make that mistake twice.
The true variable will be my own pack. If they wield the same powers as I do, they ought to be able to defend themselves once freed, if they’re willing to join our side against their captors. If they haven’t lost their minds like the rest of my pack.
Freeing my Blood Pack once and for all. I grow giddy at the thought of it, but the doubts keep crowding in. I fear they won’t trust me enough to side with me. That their torment has whittled away the last of their capacity to trust. I don’t know what else they’ve been subjected to under Blood Mage control. What remains of their sanity, of their souls…
“What’s up?” Braxton inquires, giving me a little nudge. His plate sits clean before him. He’s a man whose appetite never falters.
“I’m just thinking about my pack,” I tell him. Max and Orson lean in, all three men eager to make my concerns their concerns. It’s nice, I think, and revel in their support a moment before proceeding. “I don’t know what sort of state they’ll be in. Whether they’ll still be, well, themselves. Or if they’ll be…”
“Like Simon,” says Max.
Exactly. Will they become my enemies too? Is that all I’ll be facing when we get there? Enemies?
I nod grimly. “Yeah.”
