Mercy (5 page)

Gabriel’s fingers clenched in her hair and he flexed his hips, forcing himself down her throat until his coarse hair tickled at her nose. He groaned and she thought that he would release then but he held back, steadying her with a touch to her cheek and pulling himself free.

His cock bobbed in front of her face—flushed, hard and wet from her mouth. It looked nearly painful to her and she wondered why he’d not let her relieve him. The sound of his ragged breathing told her exactly how close he’d been. He smelled sharply of sweat, need and frustration.

“Fetch me a drink, won’t you?” he said harshly.

She glared at him, pushed herself to her feet and swiped the spit from her mouth. When she turned toward the bar though, cup in hand, she was smiling. She’d learned from him what she required. Her mate was far less in control of himself than he would have her believe. He wanted her nearly as badly as she wanted him. It was enough for her to work with for now.

He sounded disgruntled when he spoke to her back. “You are committed, I’ll give you that. To me or to the lie, I can’t tell.”

The muscles in her shoulders began to stiffen but she forced them to relax, forced them to drop in a shrug. “There’s no way that I can convince you of my loyalty. Did you really think my willingness to mate with you would be a true test?”

Iada poured out two fingers of whiskey and looked thoughtfully at the glass. She didn’t know how much he’d taken at the party and she did not want him drunk. She downed half of it herself.

“Loyalty.” Gabriel’s voice came from directly behind her and she went still. His hand closed over hers and forced the glass back down to the polished granite countertop. He stood there, not touching her, allowing her to become accustomed to his presence, the heat of his body, his scent wrapping around her. “Is the Silveira champion even capable of that, I wonder—loyalty, affection, trust?”

Still holding his body apart from her, he lowered his face to the curve of her neck, burrowing into her hair, nuzzling her there until his lips were pressed firmly against the spot where her pulse was thrumming. “Do you trust me, Iada?”

The question knotted her stomach and sent a chill over her skin. Could she trust him? Anyone? He flicked out his tongue and licked her.

“Show me again how sweetly you yield.” His voice vibrated through to her core. “Prove that you trust me at least. That you might be worthy of my trust.”

Iada had never met anyone like him. Despite his explanations of hesitation and mercy, she knew that he had bested her fairly. He was the only man to do so since she had reached maturity and gained the ability to shift.

Gabriel was strong and clever, a fearless fierce warrior. She remembered the way he had entered the pit alone, unmoved by the hostile crowd, then later when he had confronted her uncles and they feared him. She’d been thoroughly overwhelmed by his strength and thoroughly, unexpectedly aroused by it. In the pit. Here. Now in his bedroom, her knees pressing up against the edge of the bar while his heat surrounded her from behind.

Not even moving now. Why didn’t he move? His breath stirred the hair on her neck. She could feel him, the tension and restraint. She could smell his arousal. Yet he remained utterly, maddeningly still. With a flash of insight, she realized he was waiting for her decision. Her breathing quickened along with her pulse and Gabriel snarled low in his throat as he sensed her response. How novel. She had no familiarity with that kind of consideration. In her life, her family made the decisions and she obeyed. This mutant waited for her.

With slow deliberation she reached back and skimmed her hands up his bare thighs, the cool hair tickling her palms. Her thumbs met and traced the angled ridge of muscle just above his hips and she tipped her head back to rest against his hard chest. She could feel the frantic thud of his heartbeat but still he waited.

Only then did she lean back fully. He curled his arm around her body, anchoring his hand on her opposite shoulder and locking their bodies tight together. He pivoted to the right so that they were standing before an old mirror mounted directly to the stone wall, tacky with gilt and shadowed with age. As they turned, her legs automatically twined through his in a bid for control.

The urge to shift was just below the surface, the instinct trembling through every limb, definite arousal twisted around her fear of surrender. She could feel it in his body as well, coming off him like an electric current.

“Will everything between us be a battle, Iada?” he chided gently, untangling his legs and rebalancing himself. He flicked at a tender spot just beneath her ear with his tongue and nibbled his way down along her neck to her shoulder. She felt his teeth drag against the skin there, then bite lightly. A shudder ripped through her.

“Put your hands against the mirror,” he murmured, voice thickened to nearly a growl.

She hesitated briefly and then leaned forward. The mirror was cool to the touch. The heat from her hands steamed outlines onto the glass. He lifted his face from her neck and his gaze met hers, gray eyes bright with triumph.

Spreading her legs with his own, he positioned her. She could feel his erection nudging at her. He was taller than she was and he pulled her hips up and back. Stretched onto her toes and bending forward, she was balanced awkwardly, his hold the only thing keeping her from falling as he worked himself inside. He was thick and hard and it took him some time even though she was so ready for him, she ached with it. With only the head of his cock inside her, he tested the angle with a slick nudge into her wetness and a dragging retreat. Then he repositioned himself slightly and with the next thrust went deep. The way that she was positioned, she could not help him, only feel as her delicate skin was parted and stretched, tremble when he was finally planted fully inside her.

He thrust again and her arms buckled. He removed a hand from her hip to wrap his arm around the front of her body to support her. His thick forearm wedged between her breasts, fingers at her collarbone. He groaned and dragged his flesh nearly all the way out, big arm flexing to hold her still as he pushed back inside.

“You are beautiful,” he whispered, moving his hand to her breast. She had fine breasts, large enough to at times be a nuisance in a fight, but his big hand completely covered her. He traced her areola and then lightly pinched the stiffened nipple. Her hand slipped on the mirror, slick from her palms.

“Hands on the glass,” he commanded and she repositioned her arms slightly wider.

He kept the pace slow, with smooth thrusts and lazy withdrawals that pulled at her flesh and made her feel every inch of him. With his hand he spread her labia so that he could see her fully exposed in the mirror. Pink flesh glossy and swollen with need. She could see his legs behind and between hers, see just the edge of his heavy sac, swaying when he moved. She could feel the bounce of it against her thighs when he lodged himself deep. Brushing his thumb over her clit, he teased her with light strokes. She tried to press into his hands but he only chuckled, a low rumble against her back and withdrew his hand momentarily.

“Patience, Iada,” he whispered near her ear, and then slid his hot, open mouth down her neck to her shoulder. “Trust me.”

He slipped two fingers down through her folds until they rode against his cock and then moved them back up to tease at her clit. She felt the pinch of his teeth on her shoulder and a soft moan escaped her parted lips. With the next thrust, he moved his fingers more firmly against her and she tried to angle her hips to keep him there. Impossible in this position. She had to take what he gave her. Trust, he’d said. She watched him through slit eyes, his hands on her body, his calloused fingers exploring her with a gentleness that shocked her.

She closed her eyes. Close now. She was so close to that last surrender.

“Look at me,” he whispered harshly. When she opened her eyes, gray eyes bore into hers. “Don’t close your eyes against who I am. What I am.”

He pressed the heel of his palm hard against her while holding himself deep, jamming into her with short, hard strokes. Gabriel’s jaw was clenched, his eyes narrowed and fixed on hers. And she came, her knees buckling and her hands squeaking on the glass as they slipped. The only thing holding her upright was Gabriel’s body gone rigid with his own release, and then he was shaking too. He reached out with one hand to steady himself against the mirror and curled his body over her back.

***

He lifted her easily and carried her to the bed, lying down beside her and pulling the covers over them both. She reached for the remote on the bedside table and turned off the lights. As an afterthought she lit the fire. Why not? It was her wedding night, after all. She could pretend to romance. She’d always wondered about it. Gabriel pulled her to him and tucked her head against his shoulder.

“How was that for a mutant?” One arm was tucked behind his head, the other curved around her shoulders. His fingers traced lazy circles on the bare skin of her back.

She smiled against his damp chest. “Acceptable.” She would not pander to the weakness such a question represented. He swatted her rear and she pulled closer against him. “And I have never called you names,” she added.

“I can see it in your eyes, Iada. The same as all the others. I know what you think of me.”

“Obviously you do not.”

His fingers closed in the hair at the nape of her neck and tugged her head back so that he could look in her face. “You believe mixed blood is inferior.”

She would not lie. “Yes.”

His fingers tensed for just a moment before he suddenly released her. “You believe that I am inferior.”

“No.”

“Unique, then?” He chuckled, a low rumble beneath her breasts. He must have seen the answer on her face. “I’m not as unique as you think. Not even as unique as I would like to think.”

She looked at him steadily. “Show me. You’re the first person of human birth I’ve met. You could take me to your city, show me the others, let me see Anna.”

His fingers stilled in their circuit along her spine. “Trying to remove me from the compound?”

“I want to see the truth for myself. I’m risking everything to support you and we have no allies here. I assume you have friends who would return with us? We’ll need to gather people to protect us before we’ll be able to gain any support from the others. You must see that.”

She pushed to a sitting position and realized her mistake as soon as his eyes dilated and his attention drifted to her breasts. He skimmed his work-roughened hand over her skin, catching her nipple in the crevice between two fingers, and squeezed lightly. Her nipple instantly tightened in response.

“Is there no one here who will aid you?” His gaze lifted and there was a curiously pitying expression on his face.

“No one who is beyond manipulation. Even Mateus would yield if my uncles were to threaten Beatriz.”

He slowly nodded, then wrapped his strong fingers around her arm and jerked her forward so that her face was only inches from his. “If you work with your uncles to manipulate me in any way, Iada, your reign will be brief and violent.”

She closed the distance and licked his tightly compressed lips, swallowed down the growl that passed through them as they parted for her. There was never much hope that it could have been otherwise.

Gabriel watched Iada’s brow furrow and he wondered what unhappy dream disturbed her sleep now. She was a restless sleeper. At one point in the night, her breath had hitched in a broken sob and then she’d hissed in pain. He was rolling to his feet to meet the threat before he’d realized she was still sleeping. She hadn’t settled until he’d pinned her arms to her sides and thrown one of his legs across her body. And then she’d curled against him so sweetly and so trustingly that it made him uneasy. She didn’t feel like his enemy when she was in his arms. She tucked one small hand between his thighs and then he was the one who couldn’t sleep.

He didn’t know what to do with her. He’d spared her and he knew she saw that as a weakness. He knew as well that strength was the only currency in her world. It alarmed him, this instinct to shield her. He’d never met anyone less in need of a champion. Of course, that was refreshing in and of itself. He guarded so many who were weaker than he was; it was nice to be relieved of that constant pressure even if only for the night. He skimmed his knuckles over the sharp angle of her jaw. She was tough, this one.

He’d stolen her crown, threatened her family and demanded her complete submission. She’d never once flinched from his demands and he wondered at that. The Yaguara were not known for their humility and Iada had been their champion. Yet she’d conceded to every demand, responded so passionately to his touch that he had no doubt that her desire at least matched his own. Maybe it was arrogance to believe that. Maybe she was simply that good of an actress. He couldn’t really be sure.

He’d seen her whispering in the corner with Arturo before they left the celebration and Gabriel knew that her loyalty would be with her family, not with him. But she was Anna’s sister and he held out a small hope that he might change her allegiance. The Silveira champion and a full-blooded Yaguara queen. If he could convince her to support him, she would be a formidable ally.

He bent to lace his shoe and then rose from the bed. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that Iada was awake. Eyes wide, she looked uncertain and oddly vulnerable and his breath caught even knowing that it was an illusion. He could not afford to coddle her and she would not thank him for it.

“Get ready,” he said. “We’re leaving the compound.”

She pushed up and the sheet slid down her back, revealing her breasts, full through the bottom and tipped by dusky nipples that tightened under his gaze.
Focus,
he reminded himself. His eyes caught on the smooth river stone dangling between those lovely breasts. Leaning forward, he took it in his hand. He noticed the way Iada started to raise her hand to snatch it away but she checked herself midmotion. Hiding something. She was so tightly controlled. Even when he’d been buried inside her, he could feel her restraint. She held so much of herself back, he wondered if he would ever truly know her. He ran his thumb over the flat stone, gray, roughly triangular in shape and completely unremarkable save for the irregular hole that had formed near its center. A child’s treasure. He lifted his eyes to Iada’s face. “What is this?”

Her features were carefully remote. “A good luck charm.”

Bullshit,
he thought but decided it wasn’t worth the fight. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Get dressed. We’re leaving in fifteen minutes.”

“So soon?”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Your idea. You told me yourself not to expect your uncles to honor their own laws.”

“There is only one law,” she said flatly. And if she sounded like she was repeating something from rote, that was forgivable. She was Academy trained.

“Strength.” He completed the statement for her. Her eyes narrowed and he laughed. “What? Did you think this was a whim? That I came here entirely unprepared? Lumbered into the compound at an inconvenient time demanding to fight someone?”

He could tell by her expression that was exactly what she’d believed. Her lips pursed and his cock twitched in response. He resisted the urge to adjust himself. “We know far more about you than you know about us,” he told her. “You’ve considered us negligible at best.”

And damn if she didn’t look confused by that. He could almost believe that she was ignorant. But ignorant did not mean innocent. She was Anna’s sister. She had to have known about that at least or else why had she not sought out her sister by now. An image came to his mind, tiny Anna, bloody and stick thin save for her swollen belly. He held that image to him as he looked again at Iada.

“Ten minutes,” he said. “I won’t give your family time to ambush us.”

“I can’t pack—”

“Don’t.” He cut her off. “You wanted to see the truth of how the mutants live and I intend to show it to you.”

She stood up and walked toward the bathroom, haughty as a queen. Which she was, he reminded himself. Entirely immodest. But, he supposed, she had no cause for modesty. Her body was perfection, long, lean lines and packed muscle beneath firm curves, flared hips, full breasts. He wanted to take her again but there was no time. Dawn was already two hours past. He was hungry but he would take no food at the compound until his own people were here to prepare it. They could hunt once they’d crossed the river.

Iada was there exactly ten minutes later, dark hair pulled from her face in a ponytail and dressed in a yellow sundress that dropped to midthigh. He let her precede him though he knew well enough the layout of these tunnels. He’d been studying them for months. Iada glanced over her shoulder and slipped through a narrow slit in the wall. He hesitated only briefly before following her. He had to duck his head and hold his breath to make it through and even then he lost a layer of skin across his chest. This place was not on the maps.

Pitch-black. He felt his way forward, following her scent, expecting the floor to fall out from beneath him with each step. He’d demanded her trust last night. He could give her this if it made her feel safe. After all, the blind, groping faith that had him taking the next step and hoping that his foot met solid earth was the same as the rest of their mating. It occurred to him that she might be leading him to his death. The floor dipped and he stumbled, catching himself on the wall of the tunnel. He swallowed down a curse and his heart, which had lodged up in his windpipe. He could hear Iada breathing and she touched his arm.

A moment later she turned on a flashlight. He saw a basket holding more fixed to the stone. When he glanced over his shoulder, he saw that he was less than a dozen feet from the entrance. Iada smirked at him when he looked back at her.

“You could have warned me.”

She arched one ink-black brow. “You could have trusted me.”

“Where are we?”

“This will let us bypass the main tunnels. It lets out directly into the jungle. We’ll still have to pass the outer guard before we can leave the compound.” She started walking and he followed. This was a natural tunnel and the ground and walls were damp and uneven. He found himself wishing he’d grabbed a flashlight too as he tried to keep Iada’s pace. By the easy way she placed her feet, he could tell she was well familiar with this narrow passage and he found himself wondering why the Silveira champion would need to travel these dark passages.

“Do you expect them to try to stop us? I would think they’d be more than happy to see me leave.”

“It’s about control,” she said, not turning. “They’ll want to keep an eye on you. I don’t think they’ll try to kill you outright here. At least not so soon. Although if they can find someone willing to sacrifice themselves to attack you…”

“Their hands would be clean,” he finished with disgust. “They would punish the murderer, have a new tournament and you would be queen.”

Her shoulders stiffened but she only said, “Yes.”

Sweat trickled down his spine. “Why are you leading us this way, then, Iada? They might have already made arrangements.”

She did glance back then but the expression on her face was closed off again, completely unreadable. “They might have, yes.”

They were silent the rest of the way through the dank tunnel and a few minutes later they stepped out into the deep shade of the jungle floor. Iada turned onto a path leading toward the river. Gabriel took a deep breath through his nose, sorting out the scents. There was little breeze here, which was good. The canopy trapped the air, making it easier to sort. He scented Yaguara, of course, but none that had been here recently enough to be lying in wait. The sounds of birdsong and monkey chatter were natural and undisturbed. He took one last look around and then followed his mate.

They made it nearly to the tunnel that would bring them down to the river before they were stopped. A pair of Yaguara, shifted to jaguar form, lay over the entrance and a burly man stood, legs braced, blocking the path. Iada’s step never faltered. She walked right up to the warrior until she had to tip back her head to fix that glare on him. Gabriel didn’t like the insolent smile the man gave her and he took a step forward before stopping himself. She’d lost the tournament yesterday. Her uncles were clearly displeased with her. Iada was in a precarious position just now and she would need to handle this herself if she wanted to regain the respect of her brethren. Growing up in the human world made him forget sometimes that to the Yaguara weakness meant that you were prey.

The guard bowed his head in casual deference. “Your uncles have requested you attend them in the Grand Hall, champion,” he sneered.

“You may tell them that they will be waiting on that audience for some time,” Iada said smoothly.

The warrior crossed his arms and looked over her head. He ignored Iada and spoke directly to Gabriel. “You hide behind your mate?”

Iada stiffened and turned her head, waiting for Gabriel’s response. There was fury in her eyes and her cheeks were flushed red. It would gall her to be dismissed like that and even more to depend on him for support.

“Wiser than standing in her way,” Gabriel drawled. There was a flash of uncertainty in Iada’s eyes and then the smallest of smiles touched her lips. He felt like a king for the first time. He stepped forward then and moved Iada to the side and slightly behind him. He could feel the tension in her muscles but she stayed in place.

“Stand aside,” he ordered the guard.

The Yaguara’s eyes lifted to meet his boldly. A low snarl sounded from above his head.

“Your pardon, King.” The guard dipped his head in a brief salute. “But we cannot allow you access to this tunnel. We cannot guarantee your safety if you pass.”

Iada snorted. Gabriel merely raised one brow, fixed the warrior with a hard gaze and waited for him to move. He was not surprised when the jaguar sprang. There was not enough time for him to shift. The change was always disorienting, leaving a person entirely vulnerable for up to a full minute. He would be dead before he completed the transformation.

He dropped and rolled out of the way of that initial attack but felt a tug at his shoulder followed by a bright flare of pain there. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Yaguara in man form on his knees, clutching at his shredded chest. And then the jaguar lunged at him again. Gabriel snagged his foreleg midleap and pivoted sharply, stunning the animal against the rock face and snapping his leg in the process.

Before Gabriel could turn to check on Iada, the other jaguar rammed its head into the small of his back, knocking him to the ground. They must have been ordered not to kill. Iada, bless her, had no such scruples. His wife had changed fully to jaguar form, the strap and shredded bodice of her dress still clinging to one leg. She placed her teeth at the base of the guard’s skull and gave a deep warning snarl until he went limp between her teeth.

Gabriel stumbled to his feet and Iada tossed the jaguar to the side. He rolled and promptly slunk away into the bushes. While Iada shifted back, Gabriel went to retrieve his pack, ignoring the snuffling noises coming from the animal still hunched by the rock and the gasps and curses of the guard in human form.

By the time he’d returned to Iada, she was a woman once more; all the blood and dirt from the fight had fallen away with the change. Her hair was mussed, she was gloriously nude and spitting mad. It was a luxury to have a partner he did not have to worry about. The instinct to protect her was there but it was tempered by knowledge of her strength.

“My thanks, mate,” he said, wondering why she’d defended him. Had this been a show for his benefit to convince him that he could trust her? It sounded like something the Silveiras might do.

Iada actually blushed a little, nodded sharply and then dug through her small pack for another dress. The one she pulled out was much like the first but in red. He found himself standing there, stupidly watching as she pulled it over her head and shimmied her hips a little to adjust the fabric. It suited her, that color. When she looked up at him, he smiled. She gave him a funny look and then stalked over to the injured guard in human form. The stupid man glared back at her with no sign of remorse. “You attacked me,” the guard accused.

“You attacked your king,” Iada said.

The man spat. “Not my king. You’re not to leave the compound—Vin’s orders.” The sly mocking look he gave Iada made Gabriel want to strike it from his face. But as he moved forward to do just that, Gabriel noticed how carefully Iada had sliced this man, just enough to disable but not enough to kill. An act, he thought and uncurled his fist, letting it play out.

Iada said, “Tell Vin that I no longer take orders from him.”

Without waiting for the guard’s response, Iada turned on her heel and headed for the tunnel. Gabriel followed her. She’d sounded creditably sincere. She was breathing fast, her breasts lifting in quick little rises. Her pulse fluttered just beneath the smooth skin at her throat. He waited until they were well into the tunnel and then placed a hand on her elbow to stop her. She tried to pull away and he tightened his grip, pulling her around to face him.

“They’ll send more. If we want to leave, we need to do it now,” she said.

“I don’t think so,” he murmured. “That little show of force went as they planned it, I think.”