The Kindred

Using that awesome blade, and miraculous speed, agility, and cunning, she wasted the bogeymen.

“I don’t want to get in your way, Gaby. I only want to help you.” And protect you, as much from yourself as from a society that would condemn you.

She tilted her head to study him. “Are you going to fuck me?”

Though he was used to her coarse language, Luther’s brain almost exploded. It was damned difficult, but he managed to say “No.”

Anger flashed in her eyes, and she started to pull away in earnest. “Jerk.”

He fought to hold her still. “I want to make love to you, Gaby.” A soft kiss to her pinched mouth stilled her struggles. “I’m going to show you that there’s a difference.”

Curiosity lit her eyes. “Yeah?” Her chin jutted. “Tell me, but do it fast. Having you like this makes me achy. Inside, I mean. I feel almost . . . liquid.” Some of the antagonism faded as she admitted, “I’m not used to this stuff yet.”

No, as a pariah to society, an outcast in her own mind, Gaby wasn’t used to any affection at all. In twenty- one years of life, she’d managed to isolate herself so thoroughly that she was by far the most innocent woman he knew.

Until very recently, Gaby had never allowed others to touch her: emotionally, mentally, physically.

Definitely not in sexual exploration.

But now, with him, her life was changing. Luther remembered when he first saw her, how something about her had struck him hard, laid him low, and drawn him to her irrevocably. After that meeting, he would never be the same.

And he planned to see to it that she wasn’t either.

Now he only had to ease Gaby into that reality.

With her pinned beneath him asking for sex, he was off to a good start.

It was so novel to see Gaby like this, sexually aroused, disgruntled with physical need. Her normal demeanor was balls-to-the-wall brazen, gutsy beyond common sense, so daring and determined that she risked her life without reserve.

He liked both aspects.

He liked her. Too much.

Luther stared into her eyes as he released her wrists, reached down between their bodies, and positioned himself. Thanks to her recent release, the head of his cock entered slick, moist heat.

His muscles bunched and his heart expanded painfully in his chest.

Her breath caught, then released on a low, shuddering moan.

And a knock sounded on the door.

Chapter 3

No fucking way. Gaby glared at Luther and ordered, “Ignore it.”

Eyes squeezed shut as if in pain, Luther cursed low and long.

Frantic need encompassed Gaby unlike anything she’d ever felt before. Even her other sexual experiences with Luther didn’t compare. Those times when he’d touched her, he was fully clothed, somehow apart from her.

But now . . . now she felt his body in places she’d never before had reason to consider.

He could not leave her like this.

Her voice sounding like a growl, she said, “Don’t even think it, Luther. Whoever it is will go away.”

The knock sounded harder, and Luther’s partner, Ann Kennedy, shouted, “Open up, Luther.”

Gaby tipped her head back and yelled toward the door, “Go away, Ann. We’re busy.”

Luther stared at her in appalled silence. What? Did he expect her to just give him up at such a crucial moment?

Ann knocked harder.

“No.” Seeing the inevitable in Luther’s eyes, Gaby shook her head. “No.”

“I’m sorry, Gaby.” His big hand smoothed along the side of her face, cupped her skull. He put his forehead to hers. “Though I’d conveniently forgotten, I’m still on duty.”

God knew she understood duty, but that didn’t mean she was appeased. It’d be a long time before she forgave him.

“This fucking sucks, Luther!” She shoved him aside and left the couch.

Luther grabbed her hand, and with his gaze flickering over her body, he swallowed hard. “You can’t open the door like that.”

A sneer formed. “I’m not opening the door at all, but it looks like you are.” Pissed off and frustrated beyond all measure, she marched naked to the stairs. She glanced back once to see Luther standing there, wrapped in the throw, watching her retreat with undivided attention to her backside. “Perv.”

“Only you would think so, Gaby.”

His gaze followed her up the steps; she felt the burn of his scrutiny, the near tactile pressure of his interest. Sexual need sucked.

She’d just reached the top of the stairway when she heard the front door open.

Ann, in her characteristic way of acceptance, said, “I gather you forgot we have a dead body to contend with.”

“Dead? So he didn’t make it?”

“Died on the way to the hospital. I got a call, and they said so far, other than an obvious loss of blood, they’re not sure what killed him.”

Hiding her nudity, Gaby peeked around the wall to yell down, “He was drained. Try checking between his toes, in the crease of his groin . . . hell, maybe behind his ear. Somewhere on his body, you’ll find a pinprick big enough for an IV.”

Ann appeared at the bottom of the steps. She looked at Gaby’s disheveled hair, and then her bare shoulder. One slim brow lifted.

For the very first time in her life, Gaby felt slight embarrassment over her physical appearance. “What?” she asked Ann. “You have something to say, just say it.”

Ann’s mouth tilted in a smile. “I’m sorry that I interrupted.”

For some reason, that infuriated Gaby even more—especially when she saw Ann’s gentle amusement. The woman was a freakin’ saint.

Ann was not only beautiful on the outside, with golden blonde hair, soft dark eyes, and a slender, womanly build, but she also possessed a gigantic heart and a temperament that reserved judgment against others—even against a freak like Gaby.

At times like this, Ann’s graciousness grated on Gaby’s nerves. “Fuck off.”

Gaby heard Ann laugh and Luther apologize seconds before she slammed the door to the spare room that she’d commandeered. Putting both hands in her hair, she stalked to a window to look out.

Rain continued to fall, but in a peaceful, cleansing way now, rather than with the turbulent rage that had so badly disarmed her.

She hated weakness of any kind—in herself. In others, she expected it.

She had superior skills, both mental and physical, that made most seem frail in comparison.

But not Luther.

Oh God. Just thinking his name set her body to throbbing with a pulse beat of hot need. Her breasts ached. Down deep inside herself, her belly burned around a churning demand for something. It wasn’t like the vague necessity for food she sometimes felt, or the need to rest. And it didn’t resemble the driving urge to protect others.

This was different, and twice as gripping.

She needed to do something to distract herself because she didn’t know how to assuage the need on her