Howling Moon (34 page)

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Authors: C. T. Adams,Cathy Clamp

Tags: #Romance:Paranormal

BOOK: Howling Moon
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Every thrust took her higher, and his strong arms held her firmly against the heady new sensations. He pushed her further, forcing her body to release once more. “Oh, God! Raphael!” A second, mind-shattering climax ripped through her, bowing her back enough to raise him into the air. She felt his body clench as her muscles pulled at him – literally dragged the climax out of him with a harsh cry, followed by a deep moan.

“Mine.”
He whispered the word into her ear huskily and then let himself collapse onto her.

She smiled into his sweat-soaked hair and sighed. “Yours.”

 

It was nearly
2:00
a.m.
when Raphael walked silently down the darkened hall that led to his home office with a coffee cup in hand. He wore only a pair of lightweight gray sweatpants held up by a drawstring. Normally he wouldn’t even have bothered with that much, but Cat was still too human to be completely comfortable with casual nudity.

Raven had called a bit ago. He would be by in the morning to take pictures for Cat’s and Holly’s new driver’s licenses and passports, and to drop off the keys to the car registered in her new name. Holly would pack up everything at the hotel and be ready for Raven to pick her up first thing in the morning.

Raphael stopped in the doorway, content to simply watch Cat huddled over the keyboard. She wore one of her new T-shirts, black with white lettering that read “I hear voices, and they don’t like you.” He stifled a snicker. He’d been amazed to find out just how similar their senses of humor were. He was still discovering all the amazing little things about her, like the way she tapped her lip with her index finger when she was lost in thought.

Right now she was doing exactly that as she sat with one foot curled beneath a bare thigh, the keyboard clattering with rapid staccato from her one-handed typing on the number keypad. The only light in the room was from the computer screen. It threw her face in sharp relief, giving him a clear view of the absolute intensity with which she was working.

He didn’t want to interrupt her, so he blurred himself with illusion and stepped into the room, then replaced the nearly empty coffee cup with the full one in his hand and left before she could scent him.

He was nearly back to the kitchen when he heard, “Raphael? Are you up?”

“Yeah.”

She laughed lightly. “Thank God! I nearly dropped the cup when I took a sip of coffee and it was
hot
!”

He chuckled, filled a cup for himself, and then joined her in the office. “Sorry about that. I was trying
not
to disturb you. What are you working on?” He leaned forward, putting one hand on the edge of the desk and the other on the back of her chair. This close the scent of her was nearly overwhelming, heavy as it was with musk from their earlier lovemaking. He took a deep breath, reveling in the heady smells, before turning his attention to the work that so absorbed her.

“Corporate records?”

“Yup.” She turned her head so that he felt her warm breath on his cheek. “Bluebird Express Delivery Service was incorporated in Arizona in 1960. The corporate offices were at 2150 W. Ironfall, Suite 480, and the registered agent was one Lloyd E. Waters, Esq. of Waters, Wilson, and Jones.”

“And why do I care about Bluebird and Mr. Waters?”

“Because until 1975 there was no national shipping agreement between the forty-eight contiguous states. You’d sometimes have a package go through two or three different carriers to get to its destination.” Cat gestured at the pair of boxes sitting on his desk. Each had contained a copy of Jack’s file; the first was from Charles, the second from Lucas. “Both of those are UPS boxes, with the old labels on them.
But
I noticed a second label on each of them with a bluebird logo. I’ve been spending the last several hours doing research. The
only
shipping company I can find with a bluebird trademark back then was Bluebird Express. So I went into the property tax records for Phoenix. Guess who owned several apartment buildings in the area in 1964 when these babies were shipped?”

“That doesn’t prove Waters is the attorney,” Raphael said.

“No. But it gives me a starting point. Because
somebody
filed the deeds on those properties, and
that
information will be right there in the records, ready to be looked up.” Cat’s eyes gleamed, her body was almost quivering with excited tension.

“Are the records online?”

“Nope. I tried. Too old. I’m going to have to go in person.”

“Not you.”

She stiffened, her jaw thrusting forward aggressively. Raphael set his hand lightly on her shoulder and squeezed gently to head off the almost inevitable argument. “The press are looking for you
and
you still haven’t figured out how to keep Jack out of your thoughts. We don’t want to tip our hand. No, it has to be somebody Jack won’t be watching – which means I can’t go, either.”

She obviously didn’t like it, but she was smart enough to realize the sense of his argument.

“Raven?” Cat suggested.

“Or Ivan, either one.”

“Fine. I trust them.” Her sigh let him know that while she saw the sense of sending someone else, she’d really rather perform the research herself. “But in the meantime I’m going to do a little cross-checking, see if Mr. Waters or any of his partners turn up on the donors lists for any of Jack’s political campaigns.”

Raphael grinned wickedly then leaned down to nuzzle her neck. “Can it wait a couple of hours?” The words were a warm whisper that played against her sensitive skin. “I can’t even tell you how irresistibly sexy I find a woman with brains.”

She swiveled the office chair so that she was facing him, and raised a single finger to trace a lazy path from the center of his chest down to the drawstring of his pants.

“Prove it.”

A low, delighted chuckle escaped him then, and he claimed her lips with his. She opened her mouth to him, their tongues dancing as he moved his hands until he held her by her waist beneath the T-shirt.

He lifted her from the chair, pulling her close as she wrapped her long supple legs around his waist, one hand sliding between their bodies to tug at the drawstring of his trousers. His body throbbed with need, pressing hard and ready against the thin barrier of fabric. Power and need built between them until it was nearly painful.

Her legs and one of his hands held her as he swept files and loose papers off of the desktop with his other arm. He set down her bare ass on the very edge of the wood. He backed away from her seeking hands and sank to his knees. Her eyes widened as he used his hands to spread her thighs and slowly, gently, began kissing and licking his way from her knees inward, on first one leg, then the other, coming close, but never quite taking the invitation to put his mouth to her and taste the sweet wetness.

She whimpered and squirmed, her back arching so that her weight was on her hands. He could see the hardness of her nipples pressed against the thin cotton of the shirt, could scent the deep musk of her need. He moved in closer, her bare legs resting on his shoulders, his hands sliding along her outer thighs and up her back as he used his tongue to taste and tease. Again and again he brought her to the edge, only to pull back, leaving her gasping and moaning with need. Electric heat filled the room, raising the hair on his arms, calling to the beast within him. Raphael stood and pulled down the sweat pants so that she could see every throbbing inch of him for a long moment before he stepped forward and slid himself deep inside her.

She cried out, her body spasming as her back arched, forcing him deeper inside. A low moan escaped his lips, and he fought to maintain his control. He started a slow, deep rhythm, but she would have none of that. She ground herself against him, their flesh pounding ever faster. She came then, screaming as she did, and still he wouldn’t let himself go. Instead he used his strength and the power of his thrusts to build her pleasure toward a second, deeper orgasm. He felt it coming, felt his own pleasure build in response until there was no thought, no reason – only the deep, sweet, electric sensation of claiming his
mate.

 

Cat tilted her
head sideways, looking skeptically at the photograph in the book in front of her. “Wow. I’m limber, but I’m not
that
limber.”

Holly peeked over Cat’s shoulder at the book in her hands. “Urn, I think that’s one of the advanced postures. Maybe we’d better start with the easy ones?” Holly took the book from Cat’s hand and flipped to one of the earlier pages until she found something that appealed to her. She showed the picture to Cat, who nodded. “That looks doable.”

The two women stood in the center of the living room of a small apartment that smelled of fresh paint and sawdust and had been decorated with an eclectic mix that combined furnishings from the flea market and an inexpensive rental store and the framed posters that Violet had sent to her niece,
I
Was a Teenage Werewolf
with Michael Landon had a place of honor above the entertainment center, while
An American Werewolf in London
hung above a plush tan couch, its throw pillows striped in black, tan, and cream. Inexpensive bookshelves took up a third wall, and they were already almost filled. It was an odd mix. On the top shelf there were ancient-looking hardback books that Violet and Ned had found at an antique dealer discussing shapeshifter legends, the battered copies of the training manuals. The lower shelves held several books and videotapes on both jaguars and wolves, and, of course, yoga.

Cat stood in the middle of the one truly expensive item she’d used to furnish the house, a twelve-by-twelve cream-colored rug that was thick, plush, and incredibly soft between the toes when you walked on it. She would’ve considered it worth it at twice the price, but had debated long and hard over the purchase.

After all, Cerise Boudreaux was a corporate cleaning woman. She did not have extra money to waste on luxuries. She would’ve had to save for months for a purchase like this. And if anyone asked, that’s exactly what she’d say she’d done. Not that she expected anyone to inquire.

In the background, Cat and Holly could hear Ivan and Raphael discussing the best way to wire die exhaust and air filtration systems in the office where Cat would be doing most of her work. They were doing major renovations, including an overhaul of the electrical systems for the entire building to accommodate everything that would be needed. It was a nuisance, but nobody had even tried to argue the necessity of it.

“All right,” Holly announced. “This is called the Eagle Pose. Stand erect. Lift the right leg and twist it over the left leg.”

Cat did as she was bid.

“Now cross your elbows in front of your chest with the left arm on top and the arms pressed together.”

“Huh?”

Holly stepped forward and showed her the picture. Once she could see what she was supposed to do it was simple enough. “Now reverse the position and stand on your right leg, with the left leg hooked over the left.”

“I still don’t see what this has to do with magical training,” Cat complained.

“It strengthens the mind/body/magic connection and increases control,” Raphael called from the office.

Cat made a harrumphing noise and rolled her eyes, but tried to listen carefully as Holly read the section describing the five sheaths covering the soul: the annamaya kosha, pranamaya kasha, the manomaya kosha, vijnanomaya kosha, and finally the anandamaya kosha and what each represented.

There was no point in arguing. Raphael was absolutely determined that she was going to do this as part of her training. She needed to be able to keep Jack from sifting through her thoughts and finding out the details of their plans for him. Hell, she just wanted the ability to keep him out – period.

Cat gave an involuntary shudder. Jack was never far from her thoughts, but on those rare occasions when she started to put him aside
something
always moved him back to the foreground. Last weekend was a good example. She’d been at Raphael’s eating breakfast, utterly happy after a night of research and spectacular sex. Then Holly and Raven had shown up with all of the stuff from the hotel. Including, of course, Jack’s anniversary present for Fiona. Cat had completely forgotten about it until she opened the card tucked inside the velvet Carrier box. “Something to remind you of me.”

Cat shivered from a cold that had nothing to do with the snow outside, goose flesh crawling up her arms.

She’d recognized the jewelry the minute she’d opened the box: the collection Panthere de Carrier. An absolutely stunning heavy gold necklace and ring both perfectly depicting the head of a jaguar with emeralds for the eyes, and a diamond-encrusted clasp that connected the necklace to the gold stick chain. It was exquisite, but the mere thought of it made her nauseous, and Cat couldn’t keep herself from wiping her hands against her jeans as if to rid them from some clinging filth.

“Cat, what’s wrong? You smell weird.”

“Nothing,” Cat lied. She untangled her arms and began rubbing them briskly. “Read me that last part again. I need to get it right.”

They started again from the beginning. This time Cat was able to do the exercise with relative ease. Of course it was at the worst possible moment that the phone rang. Holly dashed into the kitchen to pick it up. Cat listened to the conversation as she exhaled on the count of five and slowly straightened up.

“Cerise is tied up right now. Can I help you?”

“Oh! I’ll go check. Hang on.”

“Ca – Cerise,” Holly corrected herself in midsyllable. “Your boss is on the phone. He wants to know if you can come in to work tonight after all. Somebody called in sick.”

Cat untangled her legs with a sigh. She could hear Raphael grumbling in the background. They’d planned on going out to dinner this evening on an actual
date.
But it was important that she make a good impression on her new employer. She’d only been working for them for three days. It was absolutely typical for people to call in sick the day before a big holiday, too. Cat remembered hearing
that
complaint from her father more than once.

She walked into the kitchen, goose bumps rising on her skin in reaction to the cold of a draft coming from beneath the back door. She picked up the receiver. It was her supervisor from the cleaning company. He talked quickly, firing words off like bullets, as though he expected an argument. Then again, he probably had. After all, this was a plum night to have off – the day before a major holiday.

“No, it’s fine.” Cat assured him. “I understand. I’ll be there at six.” She started to hang up the phone, but turned at the sound of someone coming through the door behind her. It was Raphael. This morning when he’d arrived he’d looked positively scrumptious in tattered, faded jeans and a tight navy-blue T-shirt that hugged every inch of his muscular chest and washboard abs, his dark hair in loose curls that positively begged to be touched. Now a thin layer of white plaster dust was sprinkled lightly over his skin and work clothes. He still looked scrumptious – but now he was more of a powdered donut.

She snickered and set the receiver in its cradle.

“What’s so funny?” Raphael stepped close, putting one hand on either side of her so that she was pinned lightly between him and the counter. He smelled of sweat, fur, and plaster dust, but beneath that, more subtly, of baking bread and cookie spices. Cat’s heart caught in her chest when she remembered which emotions those scents were supposed to represent.
Love and happiness.
Not lust, not mating. Real, honest-to-God love.

Raphael gave her an inquiring look as she reached up to cup his face with her left hand. She leaned forward, kissing him with a chaste brush of lips. “I love you, Raphael Ramirez.”

“I love you, too.” He raised one hand to brush a stray hair from her face. Just that small touch sent tingles of electricity between them, her body tightening in response. Yes, she loved him, but lust was definitely a part of the mix.

“You still haven’t told me what you were laughing about.” He whispered the words as he moved his mouth to the base of her throat, nipping gently at the pulse point. There was something so primal about that particular movement that her body ached with sudden, intense need, her breath catching in a soft gasp that was almost a moan.

He leaned forward, and his body pressed against hers, hard and ready. His hands moved to her hips, pulling her tight against him so that she could feel every muscular inch of him pressed against her as his mouth moved up to claim hers in a kiss that was anything but chaste.

“Ahem.” Ivan gave a pointed cough from the kitchen doorway.

Raphael turned his head, his grin utterly unrepentant.

“You
said
you were coming in here to get us each a beer.” The old bear complained good-naturedly. He stepped past them to the corner where the refrigerator stood. Pulling the door open he retrieved a bottle for each of them, plus a can of Cat’s favorite soda for her.

“I would’ve gotten around to it.” Raphael shifted away from Cat to take the bottles from Ivan’s hand. He passed Cat’s drink to her before he twisted off the cap of his beer. He turned so that he was leaning against the counter next to her, the length of their bodies touching, his free arm wrapping automatically around her waist.

“Did I hear correctly? You are working tonight?”

Cat nodded as she took a long swig of her drink.

“Are you
enjoying
your work?”

“It’s not too bad.” Cat set her drink down on the counter, her expression wary. “I’ve only been working a couple of days, so I’m still learning the job.
Why?”

Cat felt the tension sing through Raphael’s body. His scent changed. He was eager. He’d known Ivan a long time, and apparently sensed that something was up.

“I just got a call on my cell phone from Raven.”

A shiver of anticipation ran through her body. “What did he have to say?”

Ivan’s smile was a beauteous thing. “The deeds were prepared by your Mr. Waters. He is not only still alive, but he maintains his old office even though he is semiretired.”

Cat held her breath. There was more. There had to be. She could scent the joy and fierce anticipation pouring off both Ivan and Raphael.

“The safe is an old one, and wasn’t top of the line in the fifties when it was installed.”

“He
saw
the safe?” Cat whispered.

“He
opened
the safe,” Ivan corrected her. “He
saw
the file, and took many, many beautiful pictures so that you, and I, can make our replica
perfect”

If Raphael hadn’t been holding her she might have fallen. Her knees just gave way. They’d found the file. They’d
found the file.
And it wasn’t inaccessible, in some high-security vault that would require months of work to access. Raven had gotten to it
easily.

“Is he sure it’s not a trap?” Raphael’s words had raised a concern that it had been
too
easy.

He shrugged, and his scent was a mixture of worry and hope. “As sure as we
can
be.”

Cat gave Raphael a fierce hug and a huge kiss before stepping out of his embrace. She then did the same thing to Ivan – just not quite the same
kind
of kiss. When she released him, she began walking out of the room.

“Where are you going?” Raphael asked.

“I have to get ready for work.”

“That doesn’t really seem to be necessary,” Ivan pointed out.

“Maybe. Maybe not. But either way I am
not
leaving them shorthanded the night before a holiday weekend.” She turned, grinning at both of them. “Anybody need in the bathroom before I get in the shower?”

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