Chapter 21
Chapter 21
S ully closed her eyes, her arms twining around his neck. The kiss was tender, hot, slick and carnal, but yet she felt something, a weight, an impact that seemed to set her senses to overload and her emotions into a headspin. It was the perfect kind of kiss, full of emotion, passion and sensuality. Meaningful.
And so not what she was expecting.
She sucked in a breath as he pulled away from her, and kissed his way down her body. He carefully undid her skirt and belt—avoiding the daggers—and pulled the garment down her body, following it with his lips and tongue. She shuddered as the fabric slid down her legs, and then off her body. He shoved at his jeans, discarding them, and then was kissing his way back up her body until—
Her eyes widened as his lips kissed her. There. His hands stroked her, drawing out her reactions, making her tremble as the heat, the tension, coiled inside her. Oh. My. G—her neck arched when his tongue slid inside her, and she groaned, long and loud into the darkness. The stars above them were swimming as he laved her, over and over, until she was a hot, wet mess in his arms. He used his hands and mouth to wring extreme pleasure from her, and her back arched when that tension suddenly snapped, sending her spiraling into a cloud of bliss.
He didn’t give her a chance to catch her breath. He crawled up her body, stroking her breasts, then biting and sucking on her breasts, until his hips found hers. He braced his arms on either side of her, his silver eyes meeting hers, and she gasped as he slid inside her. She brought her thighs up to his waist, and they both moaned at the change in angle, the deeper penetration. She reached for him, her breath hitching each time he withdrew, then slid back to the hilt. He covered her body with his, his hips thrusting, and she cried out as the passion once again swept over her, pulling her body taut with need.
He held her in position, hands grasping her shoulders as he slid home, and the heat exploded. She cried out, a sound snatched away by the breeze. Her nipples, her core, her very mind seemed to overload on sensation. She heard him groan as he thrust once more, his body hard and tight against hers, and then he, too, found release. Lightning crackled above them, and the air practically snapped with energy.
Heart thudding in her chest, she embraced him, trembling, as she tried to catch her breath, her reason, some modicum of control. She gazed up at the stars, and realized even her toes were clenched, and it took conscious effort to get her muscles, everywhere, to unclench.
“Oh, my,” she panted, and he chuckled, setting off little rockets of sensation as he kissed her softly.
“Oh, my,” he said, nodding.
He rolled onto his back and pulled her into his side, and they lay like that for a while, letting the wind play over their naked bodies. Dave stroked his hand down her arm, and she stretched against him, enjoying the contact.
“Well, that’s one way to recharge,” he commented, and Sully started to laugh. She definitely felt...renewed.
He pulled his T-shirt on over his head, then looked across at Sully. They’d arrived at the motel room in the wee hours of the morning, and had managed to catch a couple of hours’ sleep. Which was hard when curled up to a soft, warm, luscious body like Sully’s. Now, though, there was nothing warm, or remotely soft about the woman. Still plenty of lush, but as she strapped her weapons to that luscious body, he wasn’t about to mention it.
She slid a dagger into her boot, and she was carefully drawing a long-sleeved blouse on over the interesting-looking contraptions strapped to her arms. He also noticed she wore her tricky little belt with the twin blades. The woman was a damn walking armory.
“Do you really think all that’s necessary?” he gently asked her.
She eyed him, her expression set in an implacable expression. This woman before him was so far removed from the moaning siren in his arms from just hours before. She’d been like this, so grim, so focused, since she woke.
“Today—tonight—Marty will either finish off his spell and become the most powerful creature walking among us, or we will have killed that nutter.”
He frowned, and stepped around the bed. “ We are not killing him, Sully. I’m the Witch Hunter, remember. If you see him, you tell me. Don’t go after him.”
She tilted her head as she returned is gaze. “I don’t want to see him. Just the idea that I will see him again makes me...nervous,” she admitted. Then her chin dipped, and her stare became intent. “But I will do whatever I can to protect these people from him.”
He didn’t know whether to kiss her or criticize her. Sometime overnight, his sweet little Sully morphed into a fierce warrior woman. He eyed the leather pants, the boots, the black singlet with the gray overshirt. Her hair was pulled up into a braided bun on top of her head, and the severe style highlighted her cheekbones and drew attention to her bright eyes and that gorgeously crooked mouth.
He couldn’t deny this whole badass vibe he was getting from her worked. He was a confident guy, he could admit when a woman turned him on, and right now Sully was ticking all the boxes. And that secretly worried him. He didn’t want her anywhere near her psycho ex.
“This is why I’m here,” he told her. “If you see him, let me know, and then let me do my job.” He gestured to her outfit. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
Sully’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”
He walked up to her. “These weapons—they’re not toys. You could be in more danger from yourself with all these sharp blades than from anyone attacking you.”
Her jaw slackened, as though she was lost a little for words. He sighed, and gestured to the guards strapped to her forearms. “Do you even know how to use these things?”
Her eyebrows rose. She thought about his words, then gave him a small smile. “If you can take them off me, I’ll leave them.”
Dave cocked his head to the side, both annoyed and pleased with her challenge. “Really?”
She nodded. “Really.”
He moved quickly, reaching for her right forearm. She moved so damn fast, her movements almost a blur as she flexed her wrists, and the pronged swords slid from their sheaths. She caught the handles, the blades moving in a wicked twirl as she easily evaded his grasp. He stepped after her, then hissed when he felt the flat of the blade smack his arm away. The blades twirled, and suddenly the tip of one was against the indent of his collarbone. He halted.
She eyed him coolly. “Yield?”
His eyes narrowed. “Never.”
He dodged the tip, bringing his arm up to hit hers away from him. She turned, the blades flashing. He raised his arm to block her strike, and she hit him again with the flat of the blade. And then smacked him in the thigh with the second blade. He grimaced, and caught her wrist.
The world tilted, and he had a vague impression of the room flipping upside down, and then he landed on the floor, with a blade at his neck and one over his heart.
She arched an eyebrow. “Yield?”
He pursed his lips. That was...impressive. “Only if you show me that move,” he said, and she grinned as she straightened.
“Let’s get through today, first.” She slid the pronged swords back into their sheaths, then extended her hand to him.
He grasped it, moving smoothly to his feet. “Fine. You...wear those.” He gestured to the weapons she’d now hidden behind her long sleeves. He got the impression that she’d taken it extremely easy on him.
She nodded. “I’m glad we sorted that out.”
She turned for the door, but he stopped her. “It’s going to be okay,” he told her. She smiled and nodded, but he knew neither of them were fully convinced. They were going up against a guy who could easily neutralize their powers, if the surrounding nulls didn’t do it already. He grabbed his mobile ink kit and followed her out, his eyes on the leather-clad hips swinging in front of him.
Damn, but this look worked on her.
Sully stared at the street scene. The road had been closed to traffic, and people milled about, strolling from stall to stall. There was a fish market section down the end, and local farmers had brought produce. There was apple-bobbing, pumpkin-carving, clowns, wood-chopping, animals, bake stalls, food stalls...the scents and sights were like a colorful burst to the senses.
“I don’t like this,” Sully said, lifting her gaze from the crowd to the darkening clouds skidding across the sky. Talk about portent. The clouds had started to skid across the sky after lunch. A storm was coming.
Which was surprising, as the forecast called for a faux summer day.
She turned to Dave. He wore leather pants and a black T-shirt beneath his leather jacket, his dark sunglasses shielding his eyes. Tall, muscular...dangerous.
Badass sexy.
She ran her gaze over his body. Last night had been...wow. She had to admit, sex with Dave was...cosmic. Fireworks, lightning...she’d never experienced anything like that before with a lover. But there was something else, something more...like the buildup of a spell before the effect was visible. Full of magic, full of meaning and fraught with just as much danger. When this was over, though, she didn’t know what was to come next, and that scared her. She’d lived her life quietly, safely, since leaving Irondell and Martin. Well, except for the two years she spent on the West Coast learning how to defend herself. But the four years since arriving in Serenity Cove had passed in idyllic peace and, well, serenity.
Dave had turned that all on its head. He’d threatened her—physically. And then had vowed to protect her. He challenged her, with every word, with every touch...he was able to get to the heart of her, the heart she’d successfully shielded from everyone. Until now. She was in very real danger of losing her heart to the Witch Hunter. She gazed around the crowd. And that was the problem. Marty had figured out a way to close down the Witch Hunter’s vision. He’d figured out a way to nullify the null effect—which was pretty damned clever. He’d killed six people. He’d avoided the law, Dave and any number of nulls out searching for him. If they didn’t find the other nulls before he did, they could be looking at a new world order by sunrise.
“There’s Jacob,” Dave said, raising his chin. Sully looked. Jacob was standing beside a chair and table set up, with a Free Tattoos sign. Dave grimaced. “Free?”
“They needed something to use as a cover,” Sully said. Jacob had called them earlier that morning at the motel. He and his mother had convinced the mayor to let them set up another booth on the street so that Dave could tattoo the last of the purebloods under the guise of a market stall.
“But free?”
She smiled at the mock whine in his voice. “You’re being very generous, whether you like it or not.”
He turned to face her, his smile dropping a little. “I’m going to be at that stall pretty much for the rest of the day.”
She nodded. “I’ll be helping Jacob and his mom round up the rest of the purebloods.”
Dave pursed his lips. “Don’t stray too far. Stay with the crowd, no wandering off by yourself. This guy is using your guise to get close to these nulls, and I don’t think that’s by accident.”
Her smile faltered. Dave was right. Marty had tracked her down, had tricked her friends to get close enough to kill him. Apparently her departure must have been a sore point for him. She nodded. “I understand.”
“Good.” Dave leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss against her lips.
“Dave!”
Dave startled at the call and drew back. They both turned. Noah was hurtling down the street, weaving his wave through the crowd.
“Hey, Noa—oh.” Dave grunted when the kid ran into him full tilt. Noah clung to his legs, and Dave stooped down to hug him back.
“How’s my little badass going?”
Sully winced at the language, but Noah laughed. “Great. How is the king of badass?”
Oh, my God. Now the kids were repeating it. She watched as Noah’s father—George, Susanne’s husband—shook his head as he approached, overhearing his son.
“The king is good,” Dave remarked, then dropped Noah to his feet. He shook hands with George. “Hey, how you doing?”
George nodded. “We’re...getting by.” Sully could see the haunted look in his eyes, the dark circles and deep grooves. His wife’s death had hit him hard. She ruffled Noah’s red hair.
Dave looked down at the little boy. “Hey, do you want to come help me at the booth? Folks might be a little braver if they know you’ve got one of my tattoos...?” He raised his brow at George, who nodded in relief. “Thanks. I’ve got to go watch his sister in the pumpkin fairy production.”
Sully blinked away a tear. Susanne was usually one of the stagehands for these things, working behind the scenes to get all the kids into costumes, soothe fluttery tummies and offer all sorts of encouragement. Noah’s sister, Cherie, would be facing her first concert without her mom.
“Take your time, Dave and I can watch Noah,” she told him.
George patted her on the arm. “Thanks,” he said hoarsely, his eyes red, and hurried away before his son noticed.
Dave stretched his hand out to Noah. “Come on, LB, let’s go get our ink on.”
Noah scrunched up his nose. “LB?”
“Little Badass.” Dave put a hand up over his mouth and mock whispered, “It’ll be our secret.”
Noah nodded. “Okay, KB.”
Dave tilted his head. “KB?”
“King of Badass,” Noah explained, his tone suggesting it was obvious.
Dave chuckled. “Yeah, that’ll definitely be our secret.”
Sully watched as the tall, leather-clad man led the little boy over to the booth. Noah was practically skipping. Jacob greeted both of them, then went and got a stool for Noah to sit on as Dave set up his kit.
It was sweet, in a weird, testosterone-laden way.
She pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket and glanced at the list of twelve names. Mrs. Forsyth was already trying to locate the older purebloods, and as soon as Dave was ready for clients, Jacob would be out combing the crowd.
For now, it was her turn. She was on the hunt for purebloods.
Dave taped the adhesive bandage over the new tattoo and smiled at the twentysomething-year-old woman. She flicked her hair over her shoulder and eyed him.
“I’m thinking about getting a tattoo...here,” she said. His gaze dropped to where she indicated. She was drawing her denim skirt higher up her thigh.
His eyebrows rose, and he gently grasped her wrist, stopping her from baring any more leg. “Uh, another time. It’s best to let the body recover a little before going for the next tatt.”
She pouted. He was sure she was trying to be flirtatious, but all he noticed was that her mouth didn’t have that cute little quirk in it like Sully’s did.
The woman sighed. “Fine. Maybe later, then?”
He gave her a noncommittal nod. “Maybe.”
He turned away to clean and sterilize the needles, and looked up when Jacob joined him.
“How many is that?”
“Seven,” Dave said, washing the needles in a solution before placing them in the pot on top of the camping stove Jacob had provided. It was rough, it was rudimentary, but the end result was sterilized needles ready to be used on the next pureblood null to make it to his booth.
Mrs. Forsyth had managed to locate the older purebloods, and Sully had tracked down three. Jacob had found two.
Dave leaned back to look behind Jacob. “Where’s Noah?”
“Oh, he’s right—” Jacob jerked his thumb over his shoulder as he turned. He frowned. “He was right behind me.”
Dave closed his kit with a snap and rose. He lifted the cloth on the booth to look under. No Noah. He straightened to scan the crowd. “Well, he’s not there, now.”
Jacob paled. “I swear, he was right behind me.”
Dave nodded, holding up a hand. “Okay. He’s a kid. There could be lots of explanations, from deciding to go watch his sister in her concert to being distracted by a funny-shaped bird poop. Let’s look.”
Jacob nodded. “I’ll go look around the stage,” he commented, and strode off in the direction of the area designated for performances.
Dave sighed. “Great. I’ll take the bird poop.” He walked around the booth, scanning the crowd. He wasn’t going to panic. Sure, the kid was cute. Pretty cool, actually. And tatted up with his own special ward. Noah was also full of curiosity, if his gazillion and one questions about tattooing, motorbikes, sunglasses, laser eyes, magic powers, leather underpants—how the hell that had come up, he still didn’t know—and needles maybe turning into ninja spears for grasshoppers were anything to go by.
“Noah!” he called out the boy’s name as he made his way through the crowd. The colors of the booths started to darken, and he looked up. Storm clouds were skidding across the sky.
Dave glanced about, his pace quickening. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like this, at all.
“Noah!”