Again, she laughed, startled at the vein of humor within the solemn wolf with the golden eyes. “Well, I’m done with looking back,” she said, tasting the salt and citrus bite of his skin, the hint of bitter chocolate in his kiss exotic and intriguing. “I’m ready to live in today.”
This time, their loving was an intimate dance.
Long, drugging kisses, lingering strokes of her hands over a firm chest lightly covered by a sprinkling of hair that was an erotic caress against her breasts, and a ride as deep, as slow. His body arched under her own, his tendons straining white under the dusky hue of his skin as his hands clenched on her hips.
She’d never felt as beautiful, as powerfully female.
Chapter 28
KALEB LOOKED DOWN at the body laid out on the cold metal slab, lit by the frigid white of the morgue lights. The corpse had been discovered four hours ago, been prioritized at the highest level of importance. “Your conclusions?” he said to Aden. The Arrow medic—trained to perform autopsies on fallen Arrows—had done the task himself.
“Cause of death was a broken neck,” Aden responded. “From the on-scene examination, it appears he tripped and fell down the stairs.”
Not an unbelievable occurrence, and nothing that would’ve drawn Arrow attention, except for the fact the victim was an anchor. All anchor deaths were investigated by Arrows, even when old age was an evident factor— born with the ability to merge totally into the Net, those of Designation A were too integral to its psychic fabric to risk any mistakes.
Anchors had many functions, but their most important one was to stabilize and “hold” the PsyNet in place. They were the reason Psy could cross the world on the psychic plane without mental stress. The death of the one who lay on the slab had caused some minor ripples, but the temporary fail-safes had come into play the instant he disappeared from the Net, ensuring no major damage. Those in the affected zone would’ve experienced a faint headache at most before the network of anchors in the region realigned their spheres of influence to cover the gap.
A single death would in no way stretch the network thin, but the loss of any anchor was a cause for concern. However, only a telekinetic at the scene could’ve prevented an accident that appeared to have been caused by a split-second physical error.
“Do you believe the on-scene report?” he asked Aden.
“Vasic and I both did a sweep of the premises, found nothing out of order. The footage from his private security system also proved to be clean. Theoretically, a teleport-capable Tk could’ve ’ported in and ‘assisted’ in the fall, but why kill an anchor?” It was the most crucial question. “They have no political power, and their deaths do nothing except weaken the Net.”
And regardless of political affiliation, every single Psy in the Net needed the biofeedback provided by the vast mental network. Sever their Net link and those of his race died an excruciating death in minutes.
“Non-Psy?” Kaleb proposed.
“If there was an intruder, it would’ve had to be a Tk. No other designation could’ve evaded the security system.”
He met Aden’s gaze. “Judd Lauren is a Tk outside the Net.” It was a statement he made for many reasons.
“Judd also has an emotional attachment to the members of his family,” Aden pointed out. “It’s reasonable to extrapolate that he wouldn’t want to cause harm to the young in the Net, and there is no way to control the widespread effect of an anchor’s death.”
Weighing all the factors, Kaleb gave a small nod. “Even the most important aren’t immune to accidents,” he said, taking in the bruises on the body of the middle-aged man. “However, I want no unanswered questions. Do a secondary scan of the premises, ensure your first impression was correct.”
Aden said nothing, but Kaleb knew it would be done. He and the Arrows had come to an understanding—but he didn’t make the mistake of thinking he had their total support. The most lethal fighting force in the Net was still making up its mind about him. What the Arrows didn’t realize was that Kaleb was evaluating them, too, the purpose of that evaluation nothing Aden and his men would ever guess.
Chapter 29
RIAZ PRESSED HIS forehead to the wall of the shower and let the water pound over him, washing away the sweat and grass stains, but doing nothing to erase the memories of the passion that had swept over him not long ago … and of the wild, sensual woman whose lush mouth was quickly becoming a private addiction.
Shame, anger, desire, they all vied for prime position within the rigid tension that was his body. The idea of being with anyone else once he’d found the woman meant to be his mate, was so anathema to everything he had ever believed, that both man and wolf were bewildered, lost. But that wasn’t the only thing that had him feeling like shit—regardless of what Adria had said about being with him every step of the way during their first primal coupling, he wasn’t a man who mistreated women. It continued to shame him that he’d been so inconsiderate with her.
A snapshot of memory, Adria’s hair tumbling around him in a silken waterfall as she leaned down to suck his lower lip into her mouth, releasing it in a delicious tease of a bite. “No more guilt, Riaz.” A husky order. “I needed that as much as you did. We can go slow this time.”
Wrenching the water to ice-cold when his cock surged at the mental replay of exactly how slow they’d taken it, he grit his teeth until his wolf cried foul. Since he was about to turn blue, he got out, dried off, and pulled on a faded pair of jeans, the threads barely holding together above the left knee. A white T-shirt, socks, and boots and he was done. He ran a comb through his hair, rubbed his jaw. It scraped, the bristles hard. Since it was far too late for Adria’s delicate skin, he shrugged and left it.
Heading to the small office he’d been assigned, he began to go through some paperwork Pierce had asked him to look over, figuring he’d grab dinner from the kitchen later, as it was only seven thirty.
However, Riley popped in his head a minute later. “Dinner at my place tonight.”
Riaz had returned to the den because he’d known he needed his pack. But after what had just happened, the painful decision he’d made to forget Lisette and continue his strange, sensual friendship with Adria, his wolf raised its hackles, wanting to be left alone. “Thanks, but I have a lot of work.” It wasn’t a lie—he was the lieutenant in charge of SnowDancer’s international business interests, Pierce and the others under his direct command.
Riley leaned against the doorjamb, arms folded. “If you wanted to isolate yourself,” he said, “you wouldn’t have come home.”
“Don’t push me, Riley.” He could feel his claws pricking the insides of his skin.
“It’s what friends do. We’re running down in ten minutes.”
Realizing he’d only end up brooding if he remained behind, Riaz gave in and joined Riley, Drew, and Indigo outside the den, the sky a soft dark not yet dotted with stars. “We waiting on someone?”
Riley glanced over his shoulder. “Here they come.”
Riaz didn’t need to turn to know that Adria was part of the group. But he did so anyway, saw that Hawke walked beside her. The alpha was laughing at something Adria had said, her face turned toward his, her damp hair caught in a loose braid.
That laughter faded when her eyes fell on him, but her smile didn’t.
Something hard and jagged in him eased a fraction, his wolf settling.
And then they were moving, the pace comfortable, conversation being exchanged as they flowed through the trees. Adria and Indigo ran ahead, following Riley and Hawke, while Drew had ended up beside Riaz. It
