A Shadow's Embrace (6 page)

Jealousy mottled his thoughts for a moment. He hadn’t noted the possessive stance in Dare earlier that Trent and Kaeden had once had around their women. She was
not
Dare’s. And the other guy…what’d she call him? Rider. Fuck, she’d gotten really worked up about him.
 

The claws of possessiveness dug deeper, gouging a part of Dagan’s soul, his marrow, he hadn’t thought still existed. He drew her closer until soft waves of vanilla and sweetness permeated his nostrils. She sighed against his neck, and those barnacles of desire squeezing his dick tightened.
 

A good man would admit he had no business protecting her since all he could think about was thrusting balls deep into her slick heat. But he was far from a good man.
 

Shoving the massive metal door open with his shoulder, Dagan winced into the setting sun’s rays. He ran his thumb along her ivory skin.  Hopefully she wouldn’t burn in the vehicle. Maybe sunscreen would be a good thing to have on hand. And insect repellant.
 

Reality made having a woman like Devyn impossible. A Shadow elite operative had time for one thing—the SEO. Nothing else mattered as long as Conver and his minions were still breathing. Resentment tasted sour on his tongue as he fought the pangs of desire flickering to life within him. For now, she was his to protect. For tonight, she was all that mattered.
 

* * * * *
 

Devyn blinked awake despite the rhythmic heartbeat echoing in her ears. Damn. She’d flat-lined energy reserves. She hadn’t realized how close she was to being fully depleted. Dare and Rider would kick her ass when they got hold of her—assuming they found out about it.
 

Dare.
 

Shit. She hauled herself upward and off the bed. Pain coalesced in her brain before plunging down her neck to lodge along her spine. Each breath arrowed pain through her gut.
 

At least you’re breathing—something your team may not be doing.
 

“Sit.”
 

Dagan. Damn.
 

“I thought you would’ve ditched me by now.”
 

“After this is over, you and I have to chat about your perceptions of me.” He rose from the chair he’d folded his hulking frame into somehow. Her mouth dried when he closed the distance between them until his breath feathered against her forehead. “Then again, maybe we should work on that right now.”
 

Wait. What? She shook her head and tried to make sense of what he’d said. Was he hitting on her? No way. Her traitorous pulse quickened, and she scanned his torso before she moved her gaze upward to note his wet hair. She looked around the room.
 

A motel.
 

A small bathroom in the corner cast soft rays of artificial lighting into the otherwise darkened interior. “Where are we?”
 

“Some fleabag motel outside of Normal. Between the provisions Rider had in the go-vehicle and the stuff Tricks and her crew brought, we’ll be good to hole up for a few days if needed.”
 

She forced her mind to work despite the raging migraine that threatened to overpower her. Her stomach roiled and pitched its protest. Several hours of deep sleep in a blackened room would sate the worst of the backlash, but rest wasn’t on the agenda.
 

“My team.”
 

“Diaz texted. Everyone made it out okay. Rider’s still in the wind. Your boy Rider had that ride loaded for a small war.”
 

That was Rider. Prepare for the worst, expect even worse. She held out her hand. “Burn phone?”
 

Dagan shook his head. “Not until you get some rest. You're tapped out. Rest for a few more hours, then maybe you can talk to your crew.”
 

“You’re crazy if you think I’m going to rest when one of my team is missing. Give me the phone.”
 

Dagan smirked as he took a couple of steps back and reached for a plastic bag. He handed it to her. “Convenience food of the gods. Eat. Rest. Then we’ll talk.”
 

She peeked into the bag. Sour cream potato chips. Diet Coke. Packaged tuna sandwich. Fried cherry pie.
 

Her gaze narrowed. “Exactly how did you know what I like?”
 

“I have my ways.”
 

Tossing the bag on the bed behind her, she shoved him back. Or tried to. He chuckled.
 

“You read my mind while I was passed out?” That was…that was…Arg. She couldn’t even think about how screwed up that was.
 

“Like I said, you and I need to work on your perceptions of me.”
 

“Oh, gee, why would I think you’re a disreputable pain in the ass who’s one step above one of Conver’s minions? Could it be because you manipulated my mind? No? Well, maybe it has to do with the fact you dragged me out into the middle of nowhere, away from my team, and then read my mind to find out I prefer cherry pies over apple.”
 

He grabbed her wrist before the slap she attempted made contact. “Diaz suggested it, seemed to think it’d put me on your good side.”
 

Oh. Well.
 

“As for the other stuff, you know why I took control of you earlier today. Were we to switch places, you would’ve done the same thing."
 

He returned to the hovering position inches away. His other hand grasped the back of her neck and dragged her forward until their lips almost met. “Ease off the pissed just a little, babe, because I’m hanging on by a thread. I’m having a real hard time remembering you aren’t mine to protect. The more you argue, the hotter I get to prove exactly why I have the right to handle you.”
 

Pleasure swirled within her, melding with uncertainty and nervousness. The totality of her sexual experiences could begin and conclude during an average television sitcom. Okay, that was being a bit harsh. Maybe a full hour drama, without the commercials. Not that she or the kids she cared for got to enjoy frivolous shit like television much. A couple of the local business owners had helped fund a small community center a couple of blocks over. Thanks to some anonymous donations to Indigo Order, a few half-functioning televisions were made available. Several battered sofas and tables later, and they had a somewhat normal location for people to hang.
 

It was also a covert way to gather the masses for some basic education. That facet of the facility hadn’t gone down well with most of the kids until their street-appointed leader Diaz had sat down, nodded with crossed arms, and said, “Cool. Teach me shit.”
 

But none of them mattered right now. All that existed was her and Dagan.
 

Silence ticked away. Agonizing seconds blurred one into another until the indecision on Dagan’s handsome face fell away and she tumbled into the fiery passion left in his eyes. She braced when he growled, low and deep.
 

She moaned as he crushed her lips to his in a savage kiss. Her psychic senses inhaled the lust, need, anger, and loneliness. No, it wasn’t her weak secondary ability brushing her mind with the tidal wave of emotions—it was him. A gentle sweep of decadent warmth drifted into her mind.
 

Dagan.
 

She cast the utterance telepathically, not trusting her voice to work even if her tongue wasn’t licking a trail along his lower lip. He tasted of mint, and she wanted more.
 

“Fuck.” He severed the kiss and yanked her away. Sawing air into her lungs, she stared at him. How the hell could he even talk right now?
 

The ground moved beneath her, and the world narrowed to Dagan. His hands. His mouth. God, she was pathetic. He prowled and paced the small space in front of her like a trapped, feral animal, pausing every couple of treks down the worn carpet to stare at her as though she’d disappear at any moment.
 

Truth told, she’d gladly melt into the flooring or poof onto the roof if she could. Her pulse was still knocking around like a drunken loon. Her heart thundered in her chest like a battering ram. Exhaustion made thinking difficult, but things had to get sorted.
 

“I need to talk to Dare.”
 

“No.”
 

“You can’t stop me from talking to him. I
need
to speak with him.”
 

“You don’t need him when the taste of you is still on my mouth.”
 

Wow. She touched her mouth. She could almost feel his tongue, his teeth grazing her lips.
 

Dagan stilled and closed his eyes. “Jesus, Devyn. I’m losing that thread.”
 

So was she. Swallowing back the confession, she settled on the bed and picked up the bag. Okay, she could do this. Small talk. Drag the conversation to safer terrain. She’d seen Mia do it countless times when campfires got heated. She could do this.
 

“Well, might as well get to work while I dine. Happen to have a laptop on you?”
 

She already knew the answer. Eyeing the go-bag, which was standard protocol for Indigo Order, she regarded him through half-hooded eyes as she opened her chips.
 

“It won’t do you any good. There’s no Internet in this area. I made sure of it since I figured you’d be stubborn and insist on using your abilities.” He leaned in his chair. “You can power up tomorrow if we’re still clear. Tonight you rest. You burned out today.”
 

Fine. Now wasn’t the time to admit she didn’t need the Internet to establish contact. That’d just chap his ass. His very fine, very firm ass. She munched on a chip and twisted her soda open. Nothing tasted worse than hot diet soda, but she couldn’t be picky.
 

“You eat already?”
 

“Yeah.”
 

Her stomach rumbled when she took a bite of tuna. “So what exactly are your powers?”
 

“I’m a manipulator, but I detest the title.”
 

“So you can force your way into someone’s mind, root around in their darkest thoughts, and bend them to your will.” She bit a chip and looked at him. “You must be fun at parties.”
 

He shrugged. “You worm your way into anything with a power cord or an electrical panel. Your power is as invasive as mine. It’s semantics, really.”
 

“Semantics.”
 

“Yeah.” He stood. “We all have an ability we resent. How can we not loathe its existence when it makes us freaks?”
 

“No, Dagan,” she whispered. “You are everything strong and true. You are our sword, our freedom, our justice. What you are not—can never be—is a freak. Because if a Shadow Elite like you, the best of our kind, is a
freak,
then what the hell does that make the rest of us?”
 

His lips thinned. Tingles coursed along her cheek where his thumb had touched her.
 

“Get some rest, Devyn. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”
 

They were on the outskirts of Normal, hardly away from the Internet like Dagan had stated. She should’ve caught on to the mention of Normal and Tricks yesterday. The decent-sized city was the epicenter of a bustling freeway hive. That, combined with the added foot traffic of Illinois State University, offered the anonymity Devyn and Dagan needed.
 

Devyn looked over at Dagan, who slept like the dead. Tricks had run by with a couple of her crew two hours ago, dropping off coffee, bags of breakfast sandwiches with hash browns, and enough bathroom paraphernalia to cleanse half of Chicago.
 

They’d chatted softly in the corner, catching up on how the woman had been handling the outside since they’d last seen one another. Tricks had grown up with Devyn in the facility and opted to put stakes down in a smaller city, which was understandable given her unusual power.
 

Devyn eyed the man who’d slept like the dead through it all. Waking up curled into someone was a new experience—one she hadn’t anticipated.
 

They’d never considered not sharing the bed. Hell, it was king-sized. Since personal space wasn’t an option in the lab they’d been raised in, Devyn and her group often slept two or three to a twin-sized cot back then. After they’d gotten a bit older, they’d learned to sleep in shifts since they no longer fit comfortably on the small surface. They’d never been as big as Dagan. Even given his mammoth shoulders and huge-ass body, they had plenty of room not to get in each other’s personal space.
 

Too bad she forgot to give herself the memo. Somewhere in the middle of the night, she’d encroached into his turf and cocooned her body alongside his. She’d never been a cuddler.
 

Cuddlers were malleable pushovers her kind could spot from ten miles away. She couldn’t get that rep on the street and be respected. If word got out she was this comfortable letting Dagan take the reins, she’d hear about it for an eternity.
 

But she’d liked letting him care for her, handle things until she recharged. Warmth settled in her gut and drifted into her soul when she thought about last night. He wanted her, but she didn’t have time to think about that.
 

Rider was missing. Her team was in danger. More than seventy texts had come through in the past few hours. Street lookouts reported Conver’s continued presence in Chicago. Some of the minions had fanned out, hitting neighboring suburbs. No one had seen Rider. The ghost-like disappearance had the entire underground worried.
 

Devyn now had enough time to infiltrate the dark net and retrace the path she’d taken the other day. The data she’d stumbled across had to be why Conver now chased her down like a rabid dog. Once she sank into the marrow of the network, she’d be more susceptible to outside forces. It was one of the reasons she’d sworn to her team she’d never go under without one of them present.