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Trillian pulled gently out of my mouth and lay down on the floor, and I began to rub against him, as even more of Smoky’s hair reached out and held my breasts tight, a firm passage for Trillian’s cock. My nipples slipped over his skin as I trailed up and down against him, with Smoky still driving me onward, a musky odor filtering through the room from our passion.
Beads of perspiration began to glisten against my skin, dropping in a line to splash against Trillian’s stomach. The music heightened, as did the mood of our union. I closed my eyes, my breath deepening into ragged pants as the feel of Smoky inside me, the tickling of his hair intensified. The friction of Trillian’s cock sliding between my breasts settled into a lathered drumbeat as I pressed against him. A low mist began to rise from the floor, the icy chill from Smoky mixing with my moonbeams and Trillian’s dark fire.
And then, missing Morio, I reached out with my mind—with the bond that connected all of us—and felt him there, on the edge of our union. He heard me and responded, his energy swirling into play with mine. I coiled around him, touching his essence, stroking his aura. We spiraled together, and then Smoky and Trillian were there, supporting us both, helping keep Morio on track.
Here we could see how tired he was, how much energy had been drained off him. And the change that Menolly’s vampire blood had wrought was apparent, too. His youkai side—his inner demon—was afire, stronger in spirit.
Together, Smoky, Trillian, and I poured our focus into bringing Morio into our midst, entwining him in our web of passion. I could feel him catch his breath, could feel him gasp as I coiled around him, merging with his being, and then, as I started to come, soaring ever higher, I grasped all of my men and we bolted, like a group of stallions and their queen.
Sweat glistened on my body. With Smoky’s driving thrusts, and Trillian’s musky gliding between my breasts, I held tight to the spirits of all three of my husbands and went diving over the edge, spiraling into that black void that is la petite mort, the little death of orgasm.
I slept like the dead that night—at least the dead that Morio and I weren’t scaring out of their graves. When I woke, Smoky and Trillian were already up and my nightgown and bathrobe had been laid out on the bottom of my bed, three red roses gently placed atop the silk. I smiled; they often did things like that—bought me flowers or perfume—and I felt truly loved.
Slipping out of bed, I took a long, leisurely shower, still unable to warm up, then dressed in a warm rayon skirt, a hunter green jacquard bustier, and a light silk see-through shirt over the top as a nod to the weather. I slipped into stilettos and brushed my hair. Placing the roses in a bud vase next to the bed and adding water, I gave them another deep sniff, inhaling the warm scent, before peeking in on Morio.
He was asleep, so I tiptoed back out of the room and headed downstairs.
Delilah and Iris were at the table. I glanced around. “Where’s everybody else?” Menolly, of course, would be asleep, but the house seemed unusually quiet.
“Smoky and Trillian are out patching a hole on the roof. Morio’s asleep—he seems to be resting deeply today. It’s good for his healing.” Iris handed me a plate of waffles, bacon, and scrambled eggs.
“He’s still asleep. I checked on him before coming down.” I took a seat and doused the waffles with syrup, wiping the drip with my finger and then licking off the sweet maple. “What about Shade? Roz?” After a pause, I added, “Vanzir?”
Delilah cleared her throat. “Shade’s off . . . I don’t know where he is, to be honest. He took off early this morning.”
“Rozurial is outside playing with Maggie in the snow.” Iris bit her lip. “Apparently, Vanzir has decided to spend some time hanging around down in the Demon Underground, looking for news of the remaining spirit seals.” She gave me a long look. “You’re going to have to deal with the fallout eventually. When are you going to talk to your men about what happened?”
“How about never?” I mumbled. That was the last conversation I wanted to have. Trillian and Morio would manage, but Smoky—no way in hell could I keep him from going after Vanzir.
Vanzir was a dream-chaser demon, and during our last crisis, he’d ended up feeding on my life force. There had been no choice; he was trapped by his nature, and though he tried to break off the attack, he couldn’t.
The only option I’d had to stop him was to fuck him—it put a stop to his feeding on me. Although it was the last thing I’d planned on, it was better than him siphoning off my energy, which was terribly painful and a much more invasive violation.
But try telling Smoky that and making him understand. I knew he wouldn’t take his anger out on me, but I wasn’t so sure he’d leave Vanzir alive. The Moon Mother had already punished the demon—she’d stripped away his powers. She had also stripped away the soul binder that kept him our slave. So he was now a free agent, but without any protection, which was more punishment than I would have come down on him with.
I finally pushed back my plate. “I’ll talk to them in a day or so. But first, we have to meet Aeval and check out what’s going on with that portal.” I stared at my half-eaten waffle, then stabbed at it with my fork. “I’m really hungry this morning. May I have another waffle, please?”
Iris laughed, but slid one onto my plate, along with another egg.
As I dug in with appetite, the phone rang. Delilah answered and when she hung up, she motioned to me.
“That was one of Aeval’s assistants. Hurry up and finish that. She got impatient and is already waiting for us in the park. We’re to meet her there instead of heading out to Talamh Lonrach Oll. What should we take? Will you bring the staff she gave you?”
I shook my head. “It’s more for ritual, or journey. I still don’t know how to use it, so I’d best leave it here. No, she made it clear to me last night. We take iron rather than silver. I’ve got some of my old paraphernalia around here.”
When I’d been younger, a new member of the OIA—although at that time we’d been in the YIA, the Y’Elestrial Intelligence Agency—I’d often used iron. It had been considered illegal by government officials. Or rather immoral. But I didn’t care. It got the job done.
I’d worn heavy leather gloves to protect my hands and done what was necessary to apprehend our suspects. Nobody but one supervisor ever made an issue out of it, and he—Lathe—had been determined to fuck my brains out. I kept refusing him, so he made my life hell during his time there.
Delilah blinked. “Iron? You still have that stuff?”
“Yeah, but even if I didn’t, we’d have a much easier time here than back home getting hold of it.” I shrugged as she stared at me. “I never could follow the rules, and hey—it saved me from Roche.”
Roche had been a savage serial killer I’d caught back in Otherworld. Actually, truth was, Trillian had played a big part in his capture. I owed him my life, and he’d won my heart. The chemistry had been instantaneous; we’d ignited like gasoline and a match. But nobody else knew the full story. And they never would. The truth would stay between my alpha love and me. I’d wanted to give him credit, but finally, he convinced me it was best to keep the details of Roche’s capture quiet.
“Yeah, that’s true,” she said. Delilah still tended to bend to authority, although she’d grown out of a lot of her naïveté over the past year and was becoming a strong, vibrant woman in her own right. I was proud of how far she’d come. “We’d better get moving, so if you want to grab your torture instruments, let’s get moving.” Her nose wrinkled, but she grinned at me.
I shrugged. “We don’t have a choice anymore. We have to fight dirty. We do whatever we need to win. Because winning is the only acceptable option.”
