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He manually changed the temperature of the water as he lathered his body and washed the scent of vampires and death down the drain. Feeling more in control, he stepped out of the shower and began to dry himself off. As he dried his hair, he thought about pulling on a pair of pajama pants or at least some briefs, but tonight he wanted to sleep the way he would sleep with her—naked. Granted, he’d have her to spoon with.
Cullen poured himself a drink as he walked to the French doors that led out onto his private balcony. He often came out here late at night, looking over his domain and thinking about those who had entrusted their lives to him. By now his men should be in place, and Cullen realized that wasn’t enough. In the morning, he would take care of details here at the manor and then head to Kenai.
He didn’t need to find a place to stay or insinuate himself with his men. No, he’d stay at the club. Membership privileges had perks, including use of some small guest suites. He grinned as he raised his glass to his lips. He found it curious that he had no desire to show her off there. In fact, once they were mated, he would have no need of any other woman.
Having put Salem in her place, at least in his mind, his thoughts turned to the Celestial Key. He needed to let Colby know she had it. What he really wanted was to get his hands on it. He’d heard tales about it most of his life, but he’d never seen it before and didn’t know anyone who had. How had Salem gotten it to work? Was there some link between her and the sphere that even she didn’t know about?
Come morning, he’d ask Colby to do some research on the damn thing. He couldn’t help but feel that both Salem and the Key could be instrumental in bringing down, if not the Shadow League, then at least the vampires.
CHAPTER 8
SALEM
For the next few days Salem holed up in her cabin and made liberal use of the SPU’s computer system and database. She filed her reports and found that a great deal of the information on vampires was either incomplete or completely inaccurate. Cullen had observed that not having accurate information could get people killed.
Charlie had told her that he had increased her security clearance, but it seemed everywhere she turned in the SPU’s massive system, she was blocked. She could find no mention of either shifters, Cullen Manchester, or the Celestial Key. She had the distinct impression that everyone—including Cullen—hadn’t a clue how to make it work or even what it might be used for, other than ‘navigation.’
Charlie had asked her how she had activated it, and the truth was, she didn’t really know. All she knew was that every time she fiddled around with it, it activated, and when she positioned the lights so they pointed straight up at a star chart, she got a location. The only problem was the last time it had switched on, she couldn’t get it to align with the star map. Feeling as if she was doing nothing more than going in circles, she went to bed.
She was fast asleep and hoping to have another incredibly erotic dream about Cullen. Each night she dreamed of being taken in those brawny arms and feeling him fist her hair to tip her head back so his mouth could take hers in a fiery kiss. God, he was gorgeous. Salem was sure he had a mate back at his manor house and only saw her as a means to an end. Oh, well, a girl could dream.
The following morning, she pulled on pajama pants and a tank top. As she was making breakfast, she noticed the same jogger who’d run past her place every morning since the incident with the vampires. Salem didn’t believe much in coincidences. After breakfast, she made herself comfortable at her desk and went to work. She managed to find a way around one of the blocks in the SPU system, only to be confronted by encrypted documents. The ones that weren’t encrypted were redacted to the point that it was difficult to glean any meaningful information.
After painstakingly working—comparing one document to another—and eking out what little information she could, she was able to begin deciphering a pattern. The pattern was troubling, to say the least. It seemed to implicate a number of high-ranking members of the SPU working, if not arm-in-arm, then at least in cooperation with the Shadow League. There were scientific reports she couldn’t understand about a secret lab outside of Reykjavik and some incident that had blown the place sky high.
Troubled by what she had found, Salem searched for her own reports and found that the most meaningful parts had also been redacted. Concerned, she called Chris down in Seattle.
“How’s my favorite frozen special agent?” he asked.
“Probably a little frostier than you’d like her to be.”
“Really? What’s up?”
“I’m getting a lot of information that seems contradictory.”
“Like what?”
Salem was unsure who to trust and given that Chris had not been forthcoming about who she really worked for, she was inclined only to share a minimum of information with him to get at the truth. More and more, she was coming to believe the Shadow League posed a far greater threat than she had been led to believe.
She filled him in on some of what had been going on, making sure to keep Cullen’s name and participation out of it. She wanted to speak with Cullen but had no intention of anyone at the SPU knowing about it. She didn’t ask Chris how to locate him; she had a much better idea of how to find the wolf-shifter.
After a long day of research, Salem did some yoga to stretch everything, took a shower, and headed off to bed. Deciding she wanted a bit more physicality than her dreams provided, she reached under her bed and pulled out her favorite vibrator. Looking into the contents of that bag she laughed—it was the same bag in which she kept her ‘non-traditional weapons.’ Half of her Mr. Pointies were there, as was a vial of holy water, a taser, and a small crossbow fitted with arrows with wooden tips and shafts—capable of impaling vampires.
Salem admitted to herself that she had some strange objects she held dear in a that bag. She pulled out her favorite vibrator—the one that was almost guaranteed to get her off. Stripping the towel off, she sniffed it and put it in her laundry hamper. She drew back the covers and climbed into the bed—she’d opted for flannel sheets, which were warm and had the best texture. Stretching out, she brought one hand up to manipulate and play with her breasts and nipples; closing her eyes, she imagined it was Cullen’s strong hands doing so. It was easy to picture his large hand cupping her breast, flicking his thumb across her nipple until he leaned down to take it in his mouth.
She flipped the vibrator on and moved it down to her clit. God, that felt good. She was able to visualize his presence and believe that it was his hand and skilled fingers that were stimulating her little pleasure nub until it peeked out from under its hood. Her skin was flushed, and arousal surged through her system, making her pussy wet and ready to take his magnificent cock.
The thing had been a monster, and that wasn’t her imagination. She’d not only seen it but been able to stare at it in all its glory. Increasing the toy’s setting to a lovely hum, Salem placed it against her clit and used it to work over her nub. There was something to be said about the intimacy of a long loving session with a partner. But secretly she had always longed for a man who used her for his pleasure, ensuring she came whether she wanted to or not. Salem moaned as she undulated her hips, enjoying her self-pleasure.
She moved her hand down from her breasts as she moved the vibrator to the entrance of her core. Using her hand to continue stimulating her clit, she slipped the toy just inside her pussy and tried to imagine it was Cullen’s cock. No such luck; it was far too small. The best she could do was imagine he was teasing her with his fingers.
Salem moved the vibrator in and out as she rubbed her clit faster and harder. She closed her eyes, shaking her head back and forth as she fought her own body, trying to deny her orgasm to herself and the imaginary Cullen. But failure was imminent. Her breathing became harsher and faster as her muscles stiffened in anticipation of her impending orgasm. She moved the vibrator in and out at an increased pace as she pinched her clit and felt her climax wash over and consume her. She took a deep breath and relaxed, acknowledging that as nice as that was, she needed more. She needed a man who could and would ride her hard, long, and often as she writhed beneath him. She needed to get laid.
The following morning, she was up, showered, and dressed before the jogger’s normal time. She sat on her front porch in her rocking chair waiting for him, and he didn’t disappoint. Setting her mug down, she trotted out to the path just as he happened by.
“Hi, there,” she said cheerily.
Looking confused and mildly concerned, the jogger stopped and jogged in place, saying nothing.
