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“Yeah, well, you need to remember your place. Where’s the calm, level-headed Adam I’ve come to depend on? I’m supposed to be the surly nihilistic one, remember?”
Before I knew what hit me, he’d wrapped his big arms around me for a hug. I embraced him back for a few moments, savoring the feel of him. Offering him the comfort he needed but wouldn’t ask for outright. Finally, he whispered, “I don’t know how we’re going to win this one, Red.”
My mind chose that moment to offer up the image of Adam lying still and pale as he bled in the cemetery after the Caste vamp attack. The cold fist of remembered panic clenching my throat, I swallowed hard. “Me neither.”
It was one thing to talk about logic and bravery and spout trite motivational speeches. It was something else to have Adam touching me and know these might be our last moments alone. Ever.
There was time to discuss plans tomorrow, but now I had something more important to discuss with him. “Adam,” I began, my voice hoarse. “I need you to promise me something.”
He held my gaze, his thumb stroking my cheek. “Anything.”
“No matter what happens tomorrow, we won’t lose Maisie. Even if it means …..” I swallowed hard. “Even if it means you have to leave me to do it.”
He tensed and pulled back to look at me. “Sabina—”
I placed a hand on his chest to quiet his protests. “Stop. I need to say this. If something happens to me, you have to promise me you’ll be sure she’s okay. I’ve f**ked up a lot in my life. Made a lot of stupid, selfish choices. But I need this to be right. You’re able to flash out of the battle, which means you have the best chance of saving her. So if things go south, I want you to leave me and get her to safety.”
His eyes burned into mine as his other hand came up to cup my face. He leaned in and placed the softest of kisses on my lips. Then he pulled away a fraction and whispered, “If you think I’m the kind of guy who’ll run away when the woman I love is in trouble, you don’t know me very well.”
The bottom fell out from under me. The L word destroyed my equilibrium. Up until he said it, I’d barely managed to hang on to my composure, but now my throat ached and tears stung my eyes. “Dammit, mancy,” I said, my voice thick.
His gaze was dead serious. “I’m just stating facts. I’ll do everything in my power to ensure Maisie is safe, but I’m not leaving you behind. Ever.”
A tear splashed on my cheek. I swiped it away with a shaking hand. I wanted to scream at him that he didn’t understand. This wasn’t just about saving Maisie. I needed to know he’d be safe, too. I wasn’t sure if I could handle the biggest fight of my life, saving my sister, and worrying about his safety. If I went down, if Lavinia gained the upper hand, if she succeeded in summoning Cain, I needed to know he wouldn’t try to play the hero.
His green eyes held mine, his warm hand a pleasant weight on my arm, his lips so close. His sandalwood-and-warm-male scent mixed with the comforting aroma of gun oil.
That’s when it hit me. I couldn’t control what might happen tomorrow, but I could decide what happened tonight. And I could think of nothing more important at that moment than showing Adam how much I cared about him.
Cared? That wasn’t exactly the right word, was it? The problem was I’d never loved anyone before. Not really. But I knew the feelings I had for the mancy were stronger and deeper than anything I’d felt for anyone. If that’s what love is, then so be it. I guess it took facing death to finally strip away my excuses for not fully living. For not fully embracing my feelings for the male who looked at me now with his own feelings so nakedly displayed in his eyes.
We stared at each other for a few moments, like we were waiting for some new catastrophe to interrupt. As I looked into his green eyes— emotion making them the color of leaves after a rainstorm— I remembered what Giguhl said about the right moment presenting itself. And I knew without any doubt this was it.
I stepped away from Adam and moved toward the door. His eyes widened and his face fell as he watched me retreat. But instead of walking out the door, I closed it and flipped the lock with a definitive click .
When I turned back toward him, my back against the door, I was shaking whether out of nerves or anticipation— or both— I didn’t know. But I did know that seeing the hesitant smile spread across his lips made my heart thump in my chest. He took a step toward me, but I shook my head. “Stay there.”
His smile faded. Obviously expecting more games, he crossed his arms and watched me with a wary expression. I held his gaze steadily as I slipped the jacket from my shoulders and let it fall to the floor.
Slowly, with deliberate movements, I raised the hem of my shirt and tossed it aside. Under his appreciative gaze, I removed my boots and jeans until, finally, I stood before him clad only in a black lace bra and panties.
His gaze forged a lazy path down my body before reversing direction. When his eyes met mine again, he arched an eyebrow in approval.
After weeks of foreplay, part of me wanted to shred his clothes off and mount him without preamble. Instead, I slowly walked toward him. Taking my time, savoring the anticipation.
When I finally stood before him, he reached for me, his hot hands sliding against my hips. But when he went in for a kiss, I shook my head. Grabbed the hem of his shirt. The movement forced his hands to release me so he could raise his arms.
My gaze dipped to the muscled expanse of his chest, down the ridges of his stomach to the Hekate’s Wheel peeking from the waistband of his jeans. I traced the laby-rinthine design with the tip of my finger. His muscles danced at my touch.
I bit my lip and looked up at him from beneath my lashes as I used two fingers to release the button at the top of his fly. His breath quickened to match my own. Our eyes met and the air shifted as need dug in its claws.
The game was over. No more seduction required. Our mouths met, wet and hot. Twining. Busy hands made quick work of my bra. Every sense filled with Adam— his sandalwood scent, the hot feel of his skin, the taste of his tongue. The combination left me punch-drunk and greedy for more.
We fell back onto the bed in a tangle of limbs. I tore my mouth away and rose up to straddle him. His hand found my br**sts and worshipped them with the reverence of the converted. He sat up, his mouth replacing his hands. His tongue soft and teasing. His teeth sharp and hard as he pushed me past the threshold between pleasure and pain. My hands dug into his hair, urging him on.
