Chapter 40
She leads us back down the stairs. The older woman sits at one of the workroom tables, cutting cloth around a form. When we enter, she raises a brow and says, “Not your usual sort of client.”
Helen rolls her eyes. “They’re helping me find out what happened to Patricia, Mother.” She says the last word with a touch of fond exasperation. “I’ll tell you about it later.”
“Mmhmm.” The woman sounds skeptical, but Helen hurries us out and back through the shop before the conversation has a chance to continue.
A taxi takes Adrian and me to the Widdershins Arms. The hotel is a bit shabby around the edges, but the lobby is clean when we enter.
Adrian signs the register for us both, listing us as Abe Easton and Steve Carruthers.
The man behind the desk seems unconcerned about our lack of luggage, merely passes us a key and tells us the restaurant’s hours.
Our room is on the second floor. The curtains and bedspreads on the twin beds are faded, but the room itself is scrupulously clean.
I sit down on the edge of the bed. “Someone else believes us,” I say. “We’re not alone in this—we have help now.” A horrible thought occurs to me. “Unless…we can trust her, can’t we?”
Adrian sits down by me, the mattress giving gently under his weight. “I was right about you, so I’d say my instincts are pretty good. I think she wants to save her friend, and the only way to do that is to work with us. Besides, she has cats—I always trust a person who has cats.”
I look at him skeptically. “Really?”
“Well, no, but I might give them more of a chance.”
I snort and lean my shoulder against his. “We have the entire evening ahead of us. What should we do?”
Adrian smiles and runs the back of his fingers along my cheek. “All this spare time…I can’t imagine what we’ll do with it. Any ideas?”
“A few,” I say, and kiss him.
His mouth is eager on mine. I slip my hands under his suit coat, feeling the heat of his body trapped between it and his vest.
“I want to feel your skin on mine,” he murmurs in my ear, sending a shiver of lust down my spine.
I force myself to let go of him, to sit back and spread my arms to either side. “Then we should get rid of these clothes, shouldn’t we?”
His rich brown eyes are nearly black with desire as he undoes the top button of my vest, then the next, then the next.
By the time it’s off, I’m trembling with need, and my arousal is obvious through my trousers.
Adrian drops his hand and brushes against it, teasing through the cloth, and a soft moan escapes me.
“Your turn,” he says, spreading his arms now.
We divest each other of clothing, one item at a time in turn. Once his undershirt is off, I linger on his nipples, making him whimper through his teeth. If only we weren’t in a hotel room but rather a more private space, where we didn’t have to worry about anyone else hearing our cries.
If we survive this, I’ll take him back to my apartment. It’s private, and in Greenwich, no one would care even if they chanced to overhear us.
Though lust wants to make me rush through things, my true desire is to savor every moment. “Let’s push the beds together.”
“Excellent suggestion,” he says, voice hoarse with need.
Once the beds are joined, giving us more room to sprawl out, we tumble into it.
I explore the hard planes of his muscles beneath taut skin, delighting in his warmth, in the sensual way he touches me in return.
It’s been too long since I shared this with anyone, and never with someone I care for the way I care for him.
Because of course I do. We’ve been through so much together, but it’s more than that. He’s kind, and smart, and he believes in me in a way no one else ever has.
Our explorations grow more urgent, until he finally straddles me, trapping my thighs between his. When I grip our pricks together, he makes a half-strangled sound and leans over to grip my shoulders, his strong fingers flexing involuntarily as I stroke us.
“Sterling,” he whispers, as though all the universe is contained in my name.
I drag him down for a kiss, thrusting my tongue into his mouth. He sucks on it, hard—then his body stiffens, and hot spunk spills across my belly. I let go, and he takes a moment to catch his breath, before sliding down and wrapping his lips around my prick.
After, I doze in his arms. I feel sated and safe, and it isn’t long before a deeper sleep grabs hold of me and pulls me down.
“There has to be a way to remember,” Bianca says. “To warn everyone about what’s coming.”
“But how?” Nameless dread fills me, mixed with desperation. And…anger?
Her five glittering eyes all seem to fix on me, even though the outer ones have little movement. An attempt at a human gesture in this strange body. “I don’t know. Maybe in the archives?”
The archives of the Tschchch. I can read their language now; it might work.
“If there is anything to find, it didn’t help them,” Emerson says, eyes burning like marsh gas. The wounds from the barbed wire on his face open and close like little mouths as he speaks.
“We aren’t them,” I argue.
“No. You’re not a sorcerer.”
I turn away, though not so far I can’t still see him with one of my peripheral eyes, though its vision is bad for details. “Not yet.”