“What?”
“I’ve not seen you in what feels like effing forever, so you wanna stop talking about my dad while I’m trying to kiss you? It’s kind of a mood killer.”
Noah didn’t give her a chance to lash him with the biting retort that was eager to jump off her tongue. He drew her into a kiss so deep, she felt her legs tremble; his tongue flicking playfully across hers and shooting hot sparks to all her good for nothing places.
When he let her up for air, Eden gasped against his mouth and then smiled. It suddenly occurred to her that she had forever and a lifetime to do this with him. “I knew I saved your ass for a reason.” Noah frowned. “’Scuse me, I think the ass saving was done by me.” Eden raised an eyebrow. “Technically I think the ass saving was done by Darius.” She shivered just thinking about it and Noah gripped her closer.
“Yeah, let’s not think about it…” he grimaced. “It’s definitely a mood killer.”
“But seriously what was that-”
His lips cut her off as they came down on hers hard, crushing hers with a desperation that had her struggling to draw breath. He pulled back, stroking his fingers down her cheek. “Your choice.
Carnage, death talk, or making out with the boyfriend who saved your butt?” With a small smile Eden drew onto the balls of her feet to reach his lips. She kissed him softly and made a happy humming noise against his mouth. “We’ll talk about who saved who during intermission.”
He nodded, his eyelids low, his eyes dark. “Sounds like a plan.” For a while at least, here with Noah, Eden could forget the world outside Cyrus’ sanctuary. But she knew, deep down in those painful, aching places, that Noah’s kisses would only hold it at bay for so long.
Epilogue. Not Over
Darwin Rice gazed around the sparklingly clean and empty foyer of the Winslow Mansion. He curled his lip, still smelling the tang of blood in the air despite the cleaning products that struggled to overwhelm it. His skin tingled as his feet slapped against the echoing marble of the luxury floor. Eyes narrowing on a little black item on the floor, he sighed, frustrated, as he bent down to pick it up.
The tracking device they’d put inside Teagan.
There had clearly been a massacre here and the little son-of-a-bitch who had promised him Cyrus and Darius was dead. Standing back up, Darwin met his colleague’s gaze and shook his head.
“Unfortunately, not our time, Peter.”
Peter nodded, looking as grim as Darwin felt. “The rest of the Tribunal wish to cease our attempts to destroy Cyrus. They see this as the first of many new failures in that direction.” Darwin tried to stem the rage that pronouncement fed into his veins. For years Cyrus and his people had hunted theirs even as the Tribunal sought to enforce the laws. They weren’t killing people, for Christ sakes. So they took a little soul here and there; it wasn’t if the race of man weren’t capable of evil all on their own. When Teagan Winslow had opened this door to kicking a hole in the gut of The Circle, a hole that would not heal, Darwin had let himself get caught in the beauty of the promise. Take away Cyrus and Darius, and the Ankh have nothing. The Neith would take control.
The Neith who were so much easier to kill.
He pulled out the photocopy of the old journal Teagan had given him. In it was the key to destroying Cyrus and that little bitch he’d adopted. He looked up from it, searching Peter’s eyes.
Darwin wasn’t surprised to see the same spark, the same need he felt within. Peter was his best friend because they were the only two on the Tribunal who ever sat on the same page no matter the situation. “Then we act without them.”
Peter nodded gravely. “That could have its consequences.”
“Not if we bring them Cyrus and Darius’ heads.”
THE END
