Heavy Metal (A Goddesses Rising Novel) (Entangled Select) (21 page)

“This is your
father’s
place?” she asked as they climbed out of the car.

Nick lowered the overhead door. “His family’s. The Rolls is my great-grandfather’s. They show it in parades and stuff.”

Sam helped Nick unload the trunk. “Lucky this was so close.”

Nick shot him a look. “Don’t sound so suspicious. He grew up in Connecticut, and six cousins co-own this place now. Some of them were here for a long weekend, just left yesterday, or we would have stayed here while Quinn rested.” He used a key on the door into the house, and they all followed him into the biggest kitchen Riley had ever seen.

A beeping behind her grew louder and faster. She turned to watch Nick tap the keypad of an alarm system until the beeping stopped and a light flashed green.

Quinn looked around, smiling. “I think I could be comfortable here.”

They fanned out into the house’s open, airy floor plan. Riley couldn’t close her mouth as she passed through the wide arch between the marble-rich kitchen and the pine-floored, combination living and dining area. Two walls of windows gave an incredible view of the ocean. The furniture, arranged to maximize that view, was mostly rattan, with microfiber cushions in sage greens, ocean blues, and satiny white. High ceilings were bordered with crown molding and bisected by skylights that let the sunshine pour in.

Past the front door and a wide staircase to the left, Riley found a den or office and a short hall to a bathroom and a small bedroom that she imagined must be for a housekeeper or something.

She bumped into Quinn when she backed out of the small bedroom. They grinned at each other.

“I could live here,” Riley said.

“Me, too.”

They walked side by side down the hall, Quinn pausing to study a picture of a bunch of kids wearing shit-eating grins. She touched one, and her expression was sad, proud, and loving all at the same time.

Riley assumed the kid was Nick and decided to give Quinn a moment to herself. She returned to the main room, where the guys had already set up a laptop on the massive pine table in the dining area. Cables snaked out of it, connecting equipment Riley didn’t recognize.

Sam flipped a switch. The laptop blinked to a full-screen video feed of Chloe’s driveway.

Riley moved closer. Sam sat in front of the computer and tapped at buttons, moving from shot to shot. The front steps and entry, the main deck, below the house, out on the sand, and in the living room.

“Didn’t have enough cameras.” Nick braced one hand on the back of Sam’s chair, the other knocking Sam off the keyboard to page through the shots himself. “More important to cover the approaches than inside.”

Quinn joined them. “Nice job.” She touched Nick’s back. “John?”

“Yeah.” Nick pulled out his phone and hit several more buttons than necessary to make a call. “Disabled the GPS,” he said as he hit the speaker button and ringing filled the room.

“Yeah, Nick,” John answered.

“We think Tom’s dirty.”

John inhaled. “The hell he is!”

“Riley was ambushed on the road. He’s the only one who could have told anyone where she was.”

“No way in hell. Hold on.” The phone went silent for several minutes. Nick set it on the table and bickered with Sam over the best order to display the angles. Sam set up a main page with all six camera views but got more agitated as he worked, far worse than he’d been in the car.

Quinn sank onto a chaise and rested her head, but Riley couldn’t settle, and she wanted to stay close to Sam. She tried resting her hand on his shoulder, and his muscles relaxed. But this time when her fingers brushed the skin of his neck, he leaped out of the chair and crossed the room, all the way to the front windows. His eyes were wild, and his hands clenched and unclenched. He shook his head at her when she started to go to him, so she stayed near the phone, worrying.

“Nick.” The phone came to life again.

“Yeah.”

“Riley there? She okay?”

“Nice of you to ask, but yeah. She’s safe.”

“I talked to Tom. He claims he got a text from me asking for their location and destination. He only knew the route, not the address, but texted back. He told me Riley spotted a car he didn’t think was a threat, and she was getting upset enough to cause an accident. He was trying to calm her down.”

It sounded plausible, but… “Why didn’t he report in when I dumped him out of the car?” Riley asked.

“Phone smashed. He had to hitch to town and find a store to replace it. Says he’d finished up when my call came through.”

“Is he okay?” If he was telling the truth, Riley didn’t want him to be hurt. She didn’t feel bad for her decision, though. She’d done what she had to do to keep everyone safe.
If
he was telling the truth.

“Few scrapes, nothing major.”

“So what’s the deal with the text messages?” Nick demanded. “You get hacked or something?”

“Something.” John hesitated. “More than ever, I don’t want to talk about this on the phone.”

“It’s all right,” Nick said. “I think we can figure it out. Keep checking out Tom,” he ordered. “I’m not buying his story. Seems pretty coincidental that he was nearby when we needed a protector. He could have been tracking Riley for someone.”

John didn’t argue, nor did he take issue with being bossed around by his employee. “You all be careful. Things are splintered.” He put emphasis on the last word.

“We will.” Nick disconnected and kept pacing. “So, Numina could have mimicked John’s number to make Tom think the text messages were coming from him.”

“Or they could have planted Tom,” Sam suggested. “Like they planted Anson in college.”

“What did John mean when he said they’re splintered?” Quinn pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them.

“He said
things
are splintered,” Riley corrected before she thought about it. “But I guess that’s an odd way to say it, isn’t it?”

Quinn propped her chin on her knees. “Maybe the ones who’ve been after Riley and approaching the other goddesses are a splinter of the main organization.”

Riley was only partly listening to Quinn. She watched Sam go deeper into himself, his skin growing paler, his eyes more haunted and desperate. He glanced at the computer, then at Nick, obviously avoiding looking at her.

“Call me if you see anything,” he told Nick suddenly. In a few strides he was across the room, bounding up the stairs three at a time.

“Sam,” Nick called after him. A door upstairs slammed closed.

“Dammit!” Nick stormed across the room but stopped at the base of the stairs, his hand on the newel post. He turned to look at Quinn and Riley. “I can’t leave you two, but no one should be alone, even in the house.” The alarm pad on the wall next to the front door beeped. Nick checked it and cursed. “Balcony door opened. He went outside.” He tapped on the keypad for a few seconds. The beeping stopped.

“I’ll go to him.” Riley didn’t hesitate. Sam needed her, even if he was struggling to keep his distance. She wasn’t afraid of him, but
for
him.

Nick caught her arm when she reached him. “Wait.”

“What?” Riley moved up a couple of steps, anxious about leaving Sam alone too long.

“He’s not handling things well.”

She bit back the urge to defend him. It wasn’t his fault, but Nick didn’t sound like he was blaming him. “I know.”

“He’ll probably lash out. He won’t mean it, but he could hurt you.”

Her fingers tightened around the banister. She didn’t like that his words echoed her own thoughts but not in a reassuring way. “You don’t trust him?”

“I trust him with my life. And Quinn’s.” He shook his head. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

She nodded. “It’s okay. I understand what’s going on.”

“Do you?” He tucked his fingers into his jeans pockets and leaned against the front door. “Being a protector, you learn to look at the long-term consequences of something, not just the immediate situation. Dealing with stuff like this” —he tilted his head to indicate where Quinn and the surveillance were— “it’s easy to react in the moment. Especially when everything’s new.”

“What are you trying to say?” Riley shoved her hair behind her ear. “Are you giving me the ‘relationships based on intense experiences never work’ speech? Seriously?”

Nick laughed. “No. That might apply, too, but it’s none of my business.”

Except the glint in his eye told her it was very much his business. He and Sam might bicker like brothers, but they apparently loved each other like brothers, too.

“Then what?”

Nick glanced upstairs. “I’m saying take care of him. But be careful.”

He walked away, and Riley dashed upstairs.

The airiness downstairs was echoed up on the second floor. Skylights lined the slanted ceiling over the wide hallway that ran above the garage. Windows looked out on the driveway and the lawns sloping down to the road below. A cozy nook had been set up at one end, and a plush chair draped with a chenille throw sat next to a tall lamp on a side table. To the left of the stairs the hall was dimmer, narrower, and lined with twice as many doors as the bright side.

“Sam?”

Only the rolling surf answered her. She shouldn’t have been able to hear it from here. The
roll-crash-hiss
of the waves grew louder when she approached the open door of the last bedroom. The sun was on its way down on the opposite side of the house, so the room was dim, but French doors opened onto a balcony. Sam wasn’t visible through the glass, and Riley didn’t see him when she stepped out onto the cedar deck.

The sea breeze whipped her hair back, carrying laughter and squeals. Out on the sand, an old man wearing gigantic headphones waved a metal detector over two-foot patches of beach. Down the beach a little ways, a young couple watched two small boys running from the surf. But Sam was nowhere in sight.

The deck spanned this section of the house and turned the corner at both sides. Holding her hair back in the blustering wind, Riley tried to decide which way Sam would have gone. Before she guessed wrong, she closed her eyes and tried to sense him.

Trying
turned out to be unnecessary. Instead of the buzz she usually associated with him, her awareness flared with a burning, golden light. When she opened her eyes, it was still there, though unseen.

She knew exactly where he was.

Chapter Fifteen

If there is one thing we have learned from the events of the last several months, it is that complacency, a belief that we understand all we need to about our gifts and the world around us, is a mistake. There is always more to discover.

—Goddess Society for Education and Defense,
“New Focus” Educational Initiative

Twilight closed in as Riley walked to the right. The sun cast long shadows toward the surf before being obscured by a cloud, dimming everything around her. It would have been a peaceful moment if she hadn’t been so anxious about Sam.

She paused at the corner of the balcony, which dead-ended halfway along the side of the house. Below them was an entire one-story wing she hadn’t realized was there. A pair of folded beach chairs leaned against the wall. Sam sat on the floor next to them, knees raised and feet flat on the floor. His forearms rested on his knees, one hand wrapped around the other wrist. His body rocked slightly, and the wild look hadn’t left his eyes.

Riley knelt on the boards in front of him. They’d already chilled in the shade, and the cold seeped through the knees of her jeans.

“Tell me.” She shifted forward so she could rest her hands on his legs. At the simple touch, his eyes closed and his body stilled. Riley wasn’t sure if he was soothed or holding tighter to control. His gaze flicked out over the water, down to the beach, then back, but he didn’t look at her.

“Nick said you got sick this time. During the transfer.”

He nodded slightly and barely moved his lips when he admitted, “Yeah, pretty bad.”

“Not the same as the first time?”

“Opposite.”

“And how do you feel now?”

He took a deep breath, his body moving with a conscious effort to relax. “Jittery. Tense. Like hopped up on too much caffeine, but not exactly.”

“Can you feel the power?”

A wry laugh escaped. “Yeah.”

“How?”

He lifted a shoulder.

“I mean, is it like a ball of energy, or more diffuse, or—”

“It’s just there. All through me.” He jerked his chin toward the water. “I want to swallow the ocean.”

“What else? Do you still feel sick?”

“Nauseous, yeah.”

Riley wasn’t sure where she was going with this. She wanted so much to help him, but only knew one possible way, based on the other night. And today seemed totally different. She should ask him straight out if he needed sex, but God, the very thought of saying those words tied her tongue.

“Have you tried using it?” she asked. “You know, drawing on the energy from the ocean and doing something, uh, goddess-like?”

He smirked and finally met her eyes. “Are you calling me a girl?”

“You should be so lucky.” She patted the side of his leg. “So try something.”

But he didn’t move, just studied her for a few moments. “What do I feel like?”

She understood what he was asking, even if he hadn’t phrased it exactly right. “You’re brighter. It’s not a buzz anymore. I can see you, though it’s not really visual.” She shook her head, frustrated. “I can’t really explain it. What matters is that whatever I’m sensing in you is stronger than before.”

He nodded. “That’s why I haven’t tried to use it.” He let go of his wrist and pressed his hands to the floor next to him. “It shouldn’t be like this. All desperate and crazed.”

His leg practically vibrated under her hand. “No, but maybe it’s like this because you’re fighting it.”

“Maybe. But what if I use it and crave more? What if I become addicted? After I filter Tanda’s, that’s it. When someone who doesn’t naturally have capacity is given access to power, using it drains them. They can’t just tap a source and keep using it unless they get more from another goddess. That’s how leeches are made.”

She thought about her great-grandfather, about the possibility that he drained her great-grandmother so much that she couldn’t pass the legacy on to her daughters. Maybe she and Marley had interpreted that all wrong. Maybe they hadn’t known what would happen when Henrietta bestowed power on Earl, and she’d willingly given him whatever he needed. It was possible she’d been too ashamed to explain to her daughters what had happened, and deflected blame on the Society.

Would Riley be willing to make that sacrifice for Sam, if it was the only way to keep him sane and healthy? The answer came quickly enough to disturb her, but understanding her family a little better gave her strength.

She swiveled to sit next to him and looped her arm through his. “I know you’re afraid, but I think you need to try. Something small. It might settle down all that excess energy.” She dug into her pocket and pulled out a long, slender screw. “Move this.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Riley.”

“Come on.” She bounced her hand at him. “See if you can knock it off my palm.”

Sam swept his hand up under hers, a light smack that sent the screw bouncing in the air.

“Hey!” She half-laughed, but on its way down it changed trajectory and shot sideways, clattering across the floor.

Riley gaped at it, then at Sam. “You did it!”

Sam gasped and blinked hard. Shock slowly turned to elation. “I controlled it.”

Riley leaned and snatched up the screw. Sam took it in both hands and tested its strength with his thumbs. Then his brow puckered with concentration. A few seconds later, it curved under pressure. He formed a loop and held it out to Riley.

“There, now you can wear it as a ring.”

She didn’t want to. She rubbed her thumb over the palm of her hand, where the car had burned her a couple of hours ago. Sam still wore a proud, lighter expression, and Riley couldn’t take that away from him. She held out her thumb and let Sam slip the unwieldy “jewelry” over it before settling down next to him, against the wall.

Casually, Sam threaded his fingers through hers and looked out over the water. The sun had finished setting, and it was difficult to see much along the beach.

“How do you feel now?” Riley asked softly, though she hardly needed to. Sam was more relaxed, the jitters gone, with just the one small burst of power.

“Better.” He closed his eyes again and reached his free hand out to the ocean. “I can feel it. The tide, the current. Even tiny points of living energy, like you did in the restaurant.” He flinched slightly in Riley’s direction. With his eyes still closed, he turned more fully toward her. “Yeah. I can…” He caressed her cheek. His lips curved, and he murmured, “Beautiful.”

Riley’s cheeks warmed. She cleared her throat. “Uh, how about the queasiness? Gone?”

When Sam opened his eyes, they were nearly opaque in the growing darkness. “Yeah. All the pain where it was slicing into me is gone, too. That didn’t fade much on its own, but now it all seems to be…” He frowned. “Equalizing, I guess.”

“Good.” Riley pulled her feet under her and stood. “Let’s stop here, then. Quit while the quitting’s good.” She tugged Sam’s hand and helped him to his feet. “We should go inside. I wonder—
oof.
”

Sam pulled her against his chest. “Thank you, Riley. I’d never get through this without you.” He bent his head and kissed her, much like he had the other night. With tender gratitude.

Riley wanted so much more from him, but she didn’t want to trigger the desperate lust he’d had that night and send him running again. He wrapped his hands around her waist, and she let herself snuggle closer. She pressed one hand to his chest, curved the other around his neck. Her lips parted and he accepted the invitation, sliding in gently, but with a little more hunger.

Then he gave a low moan, and the desire Riley had kept banked relit. She arched and rubbed against him, sucking his tongue deeper.

Sam groaned. His hands went to her back and held her tightly while he lowered them to the floor. Riley wriggled on the hard surface, and Sam broke the kiss with a gasp.

“You’re killing me, Riley.”

She immediately stilled. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I am. I didn’t mean like—I meant in a normal, God-I’ve-got-to-have-you kind of way.” He smiled against her mouth. “If that’s any better.”

“It’s perfect.” She kissed him again, letting her hands map every muscle. His shoulders were so
broad
. Someone looking down at them wouldn’t even know she was here.

Sam swept his hand down her side and under the hem of her shirt. His skin against hers was electric, and when his palm settled on her hip, the fire flared even higher. She arched again, wanting him to touch every inch of her, but he moved so
slowly
. He could span half her torso with that hand, but instead kept it on her waist, gradually spreading his fingers across her ribcage. Riley’s heart pounded, and she ached for him.

“Sam,” she whispered, arching her neck so he could nuzzle her.

“Mmmhmm.” He sucked a little on her neck. She gasped and rose up, and he went with the move and slid his hand up to cup her breast. Riley had to bite back a cry of pleasure.

Sam hung his head. His breath panted against her collarbone. “We should stop. Someone could see.” His voice was thick and urgent.

“No.” Riley didn’t want to, and wouldn’t no matter the circumstances. “No one’s around. I want you, Sam.” She reached down and touched him through his jeans, and oh, God, he was so freaking hard. She went completely wet and shuddered, cupping her fingers around him.

“Jesus.” Sam shoved her shirt up and her bra down so he could cover her nipple with his mouth. He tongued it, and this time Riley couldn’t hold back the cry. She thrust her hands into his hair and rocked under his body, her brain and vision blurring. Sam flicked open her jeans and pushed his hand inside. His long, strong fingers glided over her swollen clit and into her. She had to clamp down to keep from coming right then, and Sam cursed into her shoulder.

“Sam, please. I want—” And then his fingers moved inside her, even confined by her jeans, and she went off, a quick, blinding orgasm that was a shower of golden light.

…

Sam had some faint belief, buried under the mindless need to devour Riley, that giving her pleasure was going to keep him from melting down. His own lust was under control. Barely. But the hard edge from the other night was gone. He wanted to keep the focus on her…and this time, he didn’t have to question whether or not she really wanted it. Her hands yanked at his buckle, and she wrapped one leg up around his hip. Her pelvis lifted against him, the smallest pressure making him throb.

Then her hand was on his cock, skin to skin, and Sam’s brain completely fuzzed. His breath hissed out between his teeth, the only sound he could hear. He held himself up off Riley, fine sand on the deck grinding into his palms, his entire body taut while she stroked and squeezed.

“
Uhn.
Stop. I’m gonna—” She froze just in time. Sam cursed again and reached for his back pocket with one hand before his brain recovered enough to realize there was nothing there. “Shit. I don’t have anything.”

“I do.” It had grown too dark to see, but Sam heard the crinkle of a familiar packet, then a tearing noise, and a couple of seconds later, he shuddered as she slid the condom over him.

“Where did you get that?” he managed through gritted teeth, holding on with all his power. He was going to be inside her when he came. Fuck, the
anticipation
of her wet heat was almost enough to make him come. He needed distraction.

“Are you kidding?” Riley shimmied away enough to shuck her jeans, then slid back under him and curved her hands over his shoulders. “I’ve carried condoms since they handed them out in health class. It’s ‘part of being a responsible adult.’” She sounded like she was quoting someone, but Sam could barely hear what she was saying. Her bare thighs glided up his and cradled his hips.

His body cramped, but a tiny warning went off and he held himself still. “You’ve had this since health class?”

Her laugh purred through him. “No. I’ve had
a
condom since health class. This one is within expiration date.” She dug into his shoulders, her voice deepening, going huskier. “Come on, Sam. I want you inside me.”

God
. He couldn’t hold back anymore. He rolled them over so she was on top, and Riley threw her head back and arched her body. Her skin glowed in the faint light of the rising moon, her nipples dark and hard. She shifted to position herself over him, and he slid right in, a long, slow stroke that took him deeper than he thought he could go on the first thrust. It was incredible, so hot and wet and close and
good
.

Energy thrummed in his body, as if doing this made the power happy. Sam thrust as slowly as he could, out, in, then a deeper, upward press that made Riley gasp. Sam absorbed everything—every moan of pleasure, each shift of her body, the silken heat of her skin where they touched, her softness, her tight wetness, the unbearably gorgeous smell of her. He coaxed her down to his chest, cradling her head and holding her tight.

She closed her mouth on his neck and bit. His eyes rolled back, and he lost all sense of rhythm, pumped into her harder and harder, as pleasure coalesced, sharpened. It built, built, and burst, punching a shout out of him accompanied by a brilliant burst of light, a flash of intensity that seemed to draw him deeper into her. Her heartbeat was his heartbeat, the blood rushed through her veins at the same speed as his, her heaving lungs expanded his own chest.

Riley shuddered, her body convulsing, closing around him as she came again. His orgasm continued, pulsing downward and drawing out every ounce of tension until he was a giant, boneless mass.

Riley’s fingers stroked through his hair, soft, sweet, soothing. He inhaled her, registering the silky tickle of her hair against his cheek, her gentle pants past his ear, the slowing thump of her heartbeat and occasional spasm around him.

Words crowded into Sam’s head. Words he’d only ever considered saying to one person in his entire life. He swallowed them back with considerable effort. Riley deserved better than heat of the moment. She deserved better than him, actually, but Sam wasn’t going to make decisions for her. He’d been on her side of that, and it sucked.

When had anyone ever taken care of him like this? It was supposed to be his job to watch over everyone else. He’d made it his job, back when he enrolled in college and again when meeting Riley forced him out of limbo. But everything had gotten twisted around, and it was…nice. It felt good to share a burden, instead of taking on someone else’s. To have a person care about him so much she’d make sacrifices for him.