Chapter 9

NINE

Kimba tellsme she isn't going to be cut out of this and I agree.

I tell her everything that happened with Laurel and Richter… and try not to take her concentration as a guarantee that she'll still be here when we get all of this sorted out.

"But I don't see how my death, or yours, would further the Company's goals." I say.

Kimba takes a deep breath, nodding, without looking at me. "Still, you can't deny the connection. And I don't believe in coincidences."

"Riann is sending the dead man's information to us. We'll know more when we get home."

She seems a million miles away in thought when I pull into the garage and close the harsh chill of the evening behind us.

I follow her inside and don't even pretend to be surprised when she goes straight to one of the consoles and starts pulling up information.

While I'm not going to stop her, I do make her pause long enough to take her coat off.

By the time I've put both of our outerwear away, Riann's information has come through and I send it straight to her. We could work at different screens, but it's an excuse to be close to her. So I take it.

She doesn't protest when I pick her up and sit her on my lap so that we can both go over the file.

"He wasn't anybody," she says after a moment.

She's not wrong. Tefir was a normal Sian man who checked all the boxes and garnered no fanfare.

He just existed. Didn't step on any toes. Didn't have any great achievements.

"Do you think this is real?" She looks up at me, brows knit. "I mean… he was working with a guy who hired me to kill you and threatened me… and he had a woman in a secret room and a floor safe full of untraceable credits. That doesn't just happen overnight."

"It might." I pull up the housing records. "He just moved. He won the house a few weeks ago."

"From who?"

The group name is unfamiliar, but I pull up the name on the nexus and a glaringly bright information site pops up.

She winces at it too. "They raffle off houses for unbonded men to move out of their bachelor pads?"

That's what the site says, but… I throw the information into the CSS databases. "They don't exist."

"Are you saying it's a front? How is that possible?"

"I don't know what that means. But I'll make sure Riann is looking into what's going on with it. He'll be able to find out more than we can."

She nods. Looking down at the file, I wonder what she reads in it that I can't.

She knows things I've never even thought to try to learn.

"Do you care if I ask Margot for her file on him?"

"Of course not. I have a feeling her records are more thorough than mine."

I stay there as she sends the request over and then, before she can dive back into this problem, I stand, swooping her up.

"Hey!"

"Sleep first. Answers later, when we can attack them with a clear head."

She looks at the timepiece on her wrist and agrees. "I lost track of the time."

"I know."

Deflating a little in my arms, she lets me carry her all the way downstairs and to my bed.

The results of the database search on the description of the man who'd tried to contract me had gotten us nowhere—not that I expected a miracle.

Margot's information on Tefir is non-existent. "She's getting in touch with the woman who runs the club in Gongii."

Saying the name of the province I once lived in used to make my skin crawl.

It still makes me sad, but the rush of memories is just a dull ache.

"The other Company man had a similar story. He did his time at a club outside our city and then moved here right before his match came through."

"We have to find something to call them other than Company men. It makes them sound like the CIA."

He looks confused, but in the "I'm going to look that up later" way, not the "I'm going to derail this conversation" way.

"Cavrinskh are getting out and finding their way to town to kill these specific men. That is a huge change in behavior."

"I know."

"Do you think your opponents on that council are going to try to use this to push for that bomb?"

"No. Two men dying isn't enough to sway the others. They may not even believe it's true if presented to them by one of the opposition."

"But you'd tell them it was true, if they asked."

"Of course."

I pinch the bridge of my nose. There's something else that's bothering me.

They changed their behavior completely.

"If they can be trained…" I let the thought die in my throat, because who could possibly be training them?

D looks toward the console at the far end of the room a moment before a tone sounds.

"You have to go out again?"

"Maybe." He stands, walking away from me. "Let me figure out what's going on and where and I'll let you know."

He goes to his work and I go back to mine.

No.This isn't my work. It's not my job.

Too bad I can't teach myself to not care.

I let the description search continue in the background on one of the screens, hoping something might pop, and move on.

Sifting through the enormous amount of data D has access to, I open the file labeled "archives".

A direct translation would be irrelevant. But nothing feels irrelevant anymore.

"What are you?" I pull enlarge a cluster of data, glaring at the names.

There is a file labeled "Threats" or maybe "Concerns", depending on the translation.

I'm fluent, right up until things get technical.

But maybe Luthiel isn't the only one we both know who would qualify for either of those translations.

I open the file and take a deep breath. That's not the kind of threat cataloged here.

These are the monsters that children are told to fear. The monsters that D and his brotherhood protect us from.

And they are so much worse than I thought.

We've only ever been given vague descriptions of these ugly creatures.

But now, I have photographs in front of me. Tables with weights and measurements.

A long line of images fans out over the top of the screen. None of them are a complete cavrinskh—a name we've only ever translated as "monster".

Not even the sketched out versions here look… complete.

They've never had a good look at a whole one.

I skim through the reports. They're too fast, their movement patterns too erratic and killing them usually left behind fragments. They decompose too quickly, too. Trench only has a day to study them.

I shiver as the ick of what I see sends icy fingers down my spine.

Closing the file with dissection notes, I rub at the skin on my arms. "No, thank you."

There are clinical assessments of trips out into the Zone. The oldest reports are entirely data with no conjecture. The new ones are stamped with analysis from someone named Andrea.

It takes a bare moment to find her information—Strike's bondmate, a woman with a data analysis degree from Earth.

Data is easy to stomach. Photos of medical procedures… not so much.

And now I know how D got some of his scars. I can guess about the rest, easily enough.

I used to sit in rooms like this, reading reports like these. I used to analyze them front, back and sideways. How do we do better? How do we make it out with fewer casualties next time?

Those were games. This is real life.

When the next file has photos of Arc, I close it out immediately. I'm fine with other people seeing me naked. Bloody naked photos of the men who work for D? Not on my wish list.

Seeing D flayed open by those monsters… I'd needed to see it, but it made my blood run cold.

It would be so easy to lose him… without ever having him at all.

My lungs seize at the idea, and I shove away from the information.

I walk all the way across the room without letting a single thought enter my mind.

Looking out the long wall of glass, I wish my mind… my emotions, all of it… I wish it was as blank as that icy landscape outside.

That's where I am when D gets back.

He moves through the house in what I assume is his normal routine, shedding equipment and his suit in a methodical manner as he moves to the computers.

When I turn away from the reflection to see him, the suit hangs around his hips and he glares down at an input terminal as he logs information.

Gaze coasting over his skin, I finally release some of the tension that had held me rigid.

No new marks mar his flesh.

"You're still in one piece."

He looks up and that scowl fades. "Fault and Arc beat me to it. They had it handled before I even got there."

"What was Arc doing there? Isn't the trio's territory miles west of here?"

His brow twists in momentary confusion and then, he glances at the data on my screens. "You're a quick study."

He pulls a shirt from a hidden place inside the equipment and tugs it on, I almost stop him.

"Arc has a habit of doing laps around the inner caldera. He's restless and it wouldn't surprise me if the other two kick him out rather than suffer through his harassment. Honestly, I think one or both of the other two are going to ask to be reassigned to one of the empty outposts."

"Is there room for that?"

"There are four outposts that are technically abandoned." He pulls up a map and four points glow dark blue. "The trio don't need heating, so they're the only ones who could take them, anyway. They're abandoned because they don't have access to thermal springs, or that one," he points at one of the dark dots, "need serious repairs."

"As long as I don't have to have a roommate."

"I'd be even less tolerant of him than those two." He laughs and closes up his report, turning to me.

But the smile that came with the comment slides from his face as he looks at me. "What's wrong?"

Nothing.

And everything.

Because I want him.

Somehow I want him more than I've ever wanted anything in my life. More than I realized I could ever want anything.

I need him.

And he's here.

Offering to be mine.

All I have to do is reach out and take him.

Shoving my fears aside, I step into him, running my hands down his chest, slipping them under his shirt then pressing up again, traveling over that warm marred skin I've memorized.

"I want you. All of you."

"Every part of me was already yours." He looks down at me, eyes searching mine with something like fear.

"And if I want more?"

"That's already yours too." He presses a kiss to my forehead and slips his fingers between mine, squeezing my hand gently. "I'm going to go downstairs and clean up. Give me a few minutes and we'll talk?"

Nodding, I watch him disappear downstairs and then, I go to the computers, letting them continue on in the background.

I don't plan on coming back for a while.

I hear the running water when I follow him downstairs and slip into "my room". It's silly to care what I wear for this.

Ridiculous to think it matters…

But the gossamer-soft slip is a whisper of fabric as I slide it over my head.

It's the only piece of clothing he's ever given me and I want him to know I have it. I want him to know how often I've imagined the silken fabric was his hands ghosting over my skin.

I've spent years preparing my body for men to see. This time it's different.

It was always going to be different.

Slipping into the darkness of his bedroom, I move slowly, sweeping my hands in front of me, sliding my feet along the smooth stone. I get to the bed a moment before the water turns off.

I climb to the center as the faint sound of the towel sliding from its hook reaches me.

My heart flutters so fast as I watch the darkness, trying to see any sign of movement, but I can only hear him.

I hear him stop.

"I knew that color would be perfect on you."

I wonder what it looks like in the dark. I wonder what he sees.

There's a sharp fluttering in my stomach, but I ignore it.

The problem with fear is that it only protects you so far.

At some point, you have to give it up, get past it, or it will hold you down. It will suffocate you like someone who says they have your best interest at heart, when really, they just want to keep you from changing. From being who you are.

Who you need to be.

D was always a risk.

He's always held me at arms length, even when he's gathered me close.

"What's wrong?"

He hasn't moved. Still so far away…

This would be easier if I could just do it without talking about it. But we have to talk about it.

Nothing is wrong.

"I told you upstairs. I want all of you."

The room is so silent, I'd almost question if he was still there, except a small blue light flares and then dies. His lens…

"Are you sure?"

I nod. I'm so sure… If he was Edan, I'd already be on my back and he'd already be inside me.

But he's not Edan. And I'm not Nadine anymore.

Edan wasn't the man Kimba needed. But D… he is.

Hands wrapping around my arm, then under my ribs, he pulls me forward. The sheets, once again, put up no drag.

Despite the fact I know he's been in a hot shower, he's ridiculously warm. And I melt against him, even though I know I need to talk, not sleep.

"I want you."

He nuzzles my neck, kissing from my jaw down to my collar bone, and I slip the strap of the negligee down. The smallest pressure on his head directs him to my breast, and he feasts as though I've given him the sweetest fruit.

"Kimba. Are you sure? I need you to say the words."

"I want you to be yours as you would be mine. I want you to be my bondmate."

He lets out one long exhale, and then, he's on top of me, devouring my mouth as his hips press mine into the bed.

I'd almost forgotten how ravenous Sian men could be about bonding. Almost forgotten how intoxicating it was to be needed so wholly.

Skimming the fabric up my sides, he stops leaving the gown bunched around my waist.

I can't see him, but I feel everything.

The roughness of his hands as they trace back down me, the too-soft pants he needs to take off before I go crazy and tear them off… even his ragged breath brushing over my stomach before he kisses me. It all drives me wild.

He drags away the covers, throwing them fully off the bed, and pulls me closer.

"Do you really want to be mine?"

"I'm selfish. I want you to be mine."

Thankfully he laughs.

"These," I snap the band at his waist. "Need to come off. Now."

"Anything you want Kimba. From now until eternity, it's yours. I'm yours."

He lifts away, just enough to slide the pants off to tangle by my feet.

I don't wait for him to take control again. I stroke him. He's so hard, it makes my mouth water.

But I will not get distracted by drinking his cum. Not this time.

"I've dreamed about fucking you so many times," he says as he runs his fingers up the inside of my thigh.

On a gasp, I confess what he already knows. "Me too."

Hands on me, his fingers slip inside, I'm slick and wet, but we're both old enough to be cautious this first time.

"Please tell me you have lube."

His voice is strained and he leans away. "I was hopeful."

A drawer opens and closes.

A bottle cap snaps.

His hands return to me, cool liquid joining the warm wetness my body managed on its own.

He slips his fingers into me, one, two, three at a time.

"Fuck. I don't think I can wait anymore." Pressing my legs wide with his thighs, he cages himself around me. The tip of him rests heavy and hard against me. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. And if you ask me again, I may scream." I take hold of his head with both of my hands and try to meet his eyes even though I can't see them. "I've been yours for so long… I've just been too afraid to admit it."

When he enters me, I can't stop the sound that escapes my mouth.

It's been so long and he's so big.

It's that beautiful fullness I'd almost forgotten.

He's larger than Edan was, and gentler. He rocks into me, and I gasp with each slow thrust.

"Tell me if you need anything. I know it's been…"

"Five years." I say the words without meaning to. Neither of us need the reminder.

"Saints." The word is a growled whisper against my neck.

"We're not there yet," he says, pulling out of me, so that only the tip of him rests against me. "We can stop. I don't want to push you into this."

"You said it was my choice, right?"

"Of course."

Dragging my nails down his back, I reach his ass, and pull him forward. It's the hardest thrust yet, and I cry out, despite the fact that I was the one in control. He's buried inside of me to the hilt and this time I do need a pause.

I hadn't realized he'd taken me so shallowly before.

With him fully inside me, I'm not sure where he starts and I end. Maybe it's the shock of that that's making it hard to breathe.

Lifting himself over me, his thumb brushes my cheek. "Still sure?"

"More than."

He smiles, a feral flash in the darkness, and then he starts to move.

Somehow, I'd forgotten how much I love actual sex. Being with a man, the skin and scent and heat…

D kisses me so deeply, I have to pull away to draw in breath when he lets me go.

The delicious warmth of his body wrapped around me, inside me.

"Kimba…"

My name flutters against my skin, punctuating every caress and kiss of his mouth.

I'm full of him. Each thrust driving that stake a little further into my heart.

His hips rock into me and sensation builds like a shimmering spark. I want to come and I want to claim him and I want to be claimed as well.

He's heavy on top of me, but I can still play a part.

Dancing for so long has given me a mobility I didn't have with Edan and I rock against him, taking him as much as he's taking me.

He whispers my name against my skin, cursing and praising the saints in a single breath.

"I've longed for you Kimba. I didn't realize—"

His next thrust drives the bond home and his emotions flood into me. I feel everything he's admitted and everything he hasn't yet said.

The bond connects us through every nerve and sinew.

I'd forgotten this particular fullness.

I'd forgotten how two people could be separate and yet one at the same time.

The sheer force of his desire spikes my pleasure and the moan he's tried to hold back slips free from my lips.

He jerks and I rock, and movement bleeds to instinct as our lust and yearning bounces off of and through each other.

It's too much.

My desire coils into a tight little ball of ecstasy, and my eyes fly wide. The room is brighter than it was before and my nails dig into his back as he spills into me. I don't know which of us cries out. All I know is that the sound is exactly what I feel.

The world is a pinpoint of bright swirling sparks and I know I'll never get enough of him.

At some point, reality starts to blur back into the pleasure that held us so high.

D's breath is a stutter of silent laughter against my neck as he lifts himself onto his forearms. "I've never come that hard."

I'd heard stories of men blowing both of their loads at once during bonding, but I hadn't expected to experience it. "And you probably won't again."

He chuckles as he eases back and his cum spills from me in a rush.

"We are a mess." I say, some eerie light letting me see the shimmer of his cum.

"We're perfect."

Yes, we are.

Amusement filters across the bond to me. "You're happy," he says.

"I am." The room has already started to dim and I wonder if that's a side effect of the bond… or if it's just my imagination.

"I need to go clean up." He lifts me, and we both drip as he walks me to the doorway. "I'll change the sheets while you take care of that.

I nod and I'm so glad he's turned away when I take my first step.

Of course I'm walking funny.

Cleaning up isn't a problem. Margot had slipped some wipes into my bag a few months ago and I simply never got rid of them. When I go back to his doorway, D's waiting for me.

I wonder what he sees when he looks at me now.

"You're mine now." I whisper against him.

"I always was."

At some point as we come down, satiation takes over, and I don't realize we've fallen asleep until something rouses me. D, muttering in his sleep.

Hours have passed.

He's slumped against me, head pillowed on my shoulder, one hand lax on my chest, cupping my breast and I'm open to him. Cool air coaxes my pussy as my leg is slung over him.

Muscles I'd forgotten I have are sore, and the room around us smells like the glorious aftermath of sex so passionate…

D stirs beside me, rolling on his back, dragging me along with him. His cock is hard, and I consider…

He's mine now, and I'm his.