Shadow's End (22 page)

She would probably meet him in no later than an hour.

Ferion would probably keep his word. At least, now she knew he wanted to.

Graydon muttered,
You could still come with me now.

Just take your hand and fly into the night,
she whispered back, smiling at him. How she wanted to. She couldn't think of anything more perfect.

Yes
. He took her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss into her palm. At the sensation of his lips against her sensitive skin, hot pleasure weakened the muscles in her legs.

She forced herself to remain coherent.
I can't just go with you. I don't think we dare be that overt. We need to try to give at least the illusion of some normality, in order to support the lie. It isn't only Ferion we need to be mindful of. Malphas might actually have other spies in the Elven
household. If he's spread thin, as Ferion's surmised, what more logical way to keep an eye on one of his most valuable investments? That's what I would do.

Air hissed between his teeth as he sucked in a breath.
I hadn't considered that possibility.

You've been busy,
she told him. Unable to keep from touching him, she pressed one hand over his, at her cheek, smiling up at him.

His gaze grew heavy-lidded, piercing. Slowly, he lowered his head. He gave her plenty of time to realize his intent and pull away.

Even as she noticed it with one part of her mind, the rest of her grew fevered. She felt crazed by desire. She needed to feel his lips against hers so badly, she couldn't stand it. Raising up on her tiptoes, she met his open mouth with hers.

The breath left his body in a shudder, as if he had slammed into a wall. Suddenly he crushed her against his chest, kissing her with the same kind of rampant hunger that swept through her like wildfire.

Slanting his lips over hers, he pierced her over and over with his tongue, fucking her mouth, while he gripped the back of her neck and held her in place.

A whimper escaped her. It was such a needy, sexual sound, it sent a thrill of shock through her.

It didn't sound like her at all. She was usually so careful and considered. Her first instinct was to reach for diplomacy, to speak the quiet path and measure every action she took.

This sounded like a husky, impetuous stranger driven wild by her feelings, like someone who might do anything to be with the person she needed—including lying. Cheating. Killing. Her body caught fire.

In that moment, she forgot everything else. The bargain, the danger. Graydon could have done anything to her, and she would have welcomed it.

She needed him to do everything to her.

He growled softly. It wasn't a nice, safe sound, full of affection or play. He sounded feral and dangerous. He sounded like she felt.

The beat of her pulse filled with urgent need. The rhythm became the entire world. She existed in the rushing flow of life in her veins.

Then he went taut, his massive body clenched in protest even as he dragged his mouth away from hers. His pulse hammered too, fast and hard, while his breathing had turned harsh and ragged.

She moaned, “You're going to kill me.”

She hadn't meant anything by it, but for some reason, he reacted poorly. He recoiled. Then, closing his eyes, he leaned his forehead against hers.

He whispered, “Not if I have anything to say about it, I won't.”

She stared at him in perplexity. What an odd thing to say. She wanted to tell him, no, of course not. That wasn't what I meant.

But before she could say anything, he gave her one more brief, swift kiss. He told her,
I'll see you outside in an hour or less.

Yes
.

His arms fell away. She had a moment to mourn the loss, and for the first time, she felt the cold December wind. He turned, jumped onto the railing and leaped into the air. Just as he had on the beach, he shapeshifted into the gryphon and then disappeared in the next moment.

Staring after him, she sighed in equal parts pleasure and frustration. Then she turned to go back inside. Part of her wanted to worry at Graydon's odd reaction, like a dog with a bone, but that would have to wait until later.

For now, she needed to change into sturdy walking clothes, summon Linwe and get out of the house.

•   •   •

G
raydon exploded into the night sky with the kind of fury that came out of desperate longing.

Leaving her.

He was always leaving her.

That fact had been all but unendurable from the very
beginning. Now it tore at him like harpy's claws. The memory of her soft mouth moving under his, her slender body aligning against him, the small, sexy sound that had come out of her. His soul felt lacerated, his skin raw.

He needed to stay with her, but he shouldn't. He needed to protect her from what came next, but he couldn't. People were going to die, and it was always possible that one of them would be Ferion.

Or her.

Everything inside of him rebelled at the thought.

Not bloody likely. Not if he had anything to say about it.

This time, when his vision came, it slipped into him with the stealth of an assassin. White snow. Black rocks. The red of heart's blood.

Ah, at long last, the vision felt close, very close.

He felt a fierce kind of satisfaction that he wouldn't have been able to explain to any other person. One way or another, he was going to get this fucker off his fucking back.

As soon as he had cleared the Elven residence, he flew a few more blocks then landed and shapeshifted again. Digging out his phone, he texted Claudia and Luis, Julian, and Constantine to meet in ninety minutes at the suite in the hotel. Claudia and Luis could contact Rune and Carling.

Then, unable to wait passively, he changed back to the gryphon. Flying back to the Elven residence, he circled it, watching everything. He felt obsessed, like some lunatic stalker, but he couldn't stop himself.

The Elven residence was a three-story detached brownstone mansion in the fashionable Flatiron District. Despite the lateness of the hour, lights shone in several different parts of the house. In the back, the walled garden lay mostly in shadow, with a few security lights shining along the walls.

As he circled, he watched the balcony doors and windows that led to Bel's suite. Lights shone there too, until suddenly they went dark. His adrenaline spiked. At last, she was on the move.

Swinging around to pass over the front of the mansion,
he kept his flight pattern tight and small, until he saw the front door open.

Bel and Linwe slipped outside. They walked down the street, Bel's dark head close to Linwe's bright pink one.

Graydon felt the impulse to follow them, but he stayed on task, watching the mansion.

A few moments after they had left, another Elf slipped out the front door. For a moment, the front porch lights illuminated the Elf's face.

It was a male, the same guard that had pulled his weapon along with Ferion earlier in Bel's room. After the Elf checked both directions, he started down the street after Linwe and Bel.

As he left the mansion, he became harder to detect. He had started to cloak himself.

The Elf had one major disadvantage. He wasn't nearly as good at cloaking as Graydon was at stalking.

Coasting silently around forty yards in the air above the Elf, Graydon watched him for a few blocks until he was quite sure. The male was, indeed, following the two women.

His predatory instincts roused.

It would be so easy to kill him. All the gryphon would have to do was plummet down. His paws flexed as he considered. His long claws would pierce the guard's body before the Elf had a chance to draw breath and scream. He could carry the body away to dispose of somewhere else.

The decision shook through his taut body, but one thought held him back. He didn't know if the guard was Ferion's and innocent, or Malphas's spy.

Even then, the guard could be innocent, and simply suffering from the same kind of coercion as Malphas's many other victims.

At the last thought, sanity intervened. He pulled himself up and shot ahead to the women. Swooping down, he glided over their heads.

You're being followed,
he said in Bel's head.
Two blocks back.

She tilted her head back. He caught a glimpse of her face before his trajectory took him past the women. Pulling up, he swept around and glided over them again.

Gray?
Bel said.
I've explained things—partially—to Linwe. There's a taxi rank up ahead, in front of a block of restaurants. Linwe will take a taxi to Times Square, find an all-night restaurant and wait to hear from me. Can you pick me up?

Absolutely,
he told her.

As they turned a corner, they walked out of sight of their stalker. Graydon plummeted. He landed beside Bel and let his own cloaking spell fall away.

At the same moment, she said to Linwe, “Run.”

Giving him one spooked glance, Linwe darted toward the nearby restaurants and taxis. He noted in satisfaction that she was a fast sprinter. Despite the snow and ice, she flew surefooted down the sidewalk.

As Linwe raced away, Bel leaped onto his back.

At long last, the space between his shoulders, that spot which had been empty for so long, felt complete again.

Hold on,
he said.

Cloaking himself again, he launched and drove into the air as high and fast as he could. Wheeling, he flew back the way they had come.

Below, on the street, the Elven guard raced around the corner. After looking around, he sprinted toward the restaurants and the taxi rank.

“Linwe got away!” Bel said. “Even if he gets a taxi too, all they need is a head start of a few moments, and she'll lose him.”

Good enough
, the gryphon growled.
Feel free to praise me for not killing the guard.
He felt rather than heard the soft laugh that rippled through her body. She stroked the back of the gryphon's neck. “You did such an excellent job,” she told him. “Thank you for restraining yourself.”

It was not easy,
he told her, even as the pleasure of her touch rippled down his body.
I'm feeling particularly growly and predatory right now.

“With good reason,” she said. The smile had died from her voice.

Everything will be okay,
he told her.

He willed that he was right, with every ounce of strength he had inside him. He would make sure that it was okay.

If he was only strong enough, fast enough, smart enough.

If he could hold the course, find the right actions to take, he knew they could win through, despite what the vision warned.

He would make it happen. He would.

In short order, they reached the hotel. After landing and shapeshifting, he put his hand to Bel's back and walked with her through the revolving door.

He could tell she was working her subtle magic, deflecting others from noticing them, because despite their fast pace, and despite the fact that Graydon was well known in New York and Bel's face was internationally famous, no one turned to look at them or remarked on their presence.

They made it through the lobby without fuss, and took the elevator up to the suite. As he knocked on the door, she stood beside him, to all appearances looking calm and composed, but he noticed how she twisted her hands together until the knuckles showed white.

He covered her hands with one of his and squeezed. Her large, dark gaze lifted to his, and she gave him a grateful smile.

This time, Luis answered the door. The younger Wyr nodded a greeting to Graydon, while his gaze lingered on Bel.

Almost imperceptibly, Luis's expression lightened, and despite the fact that the younger Wyr had mated with another woman, and the fact that Bel was not Graydon's, he felt a possessive snarl build at the back of his throat and an almost uncontrollable urge to get violent.

The impulse knocked him back into himself. He was getting perilously close to mating behavior again. He had to find some way to throttle back emotionally, but the only way he knew to do that was to have a complete cutoff from her—and after enduring the last two hundred years, he didn't know if he could make himself do it again.

As Luis stood back from the door, Graydon let Bel enter first. When he stepped inside, the younger Wyr murmured, “You okay?”

He shot Luis a glance. It shouldn't come as a surprise that Luis was so perceptive. “Don't worry about it.”

Bel lingered and glanced over her shoulder at them. Smoothly, Luis switched to telepathy.
Does she know how you feel?

He sounded concerned. Graydon shook his head at the younger man.

It's complicated,
he said shortly.
And how I feel is not the focal point right now.

Understood.
Luis said aloud, “The living room is pretty crowded, but this was the best place we could think of to maintain privacy.”

Graydon followed Bel down the short hallway. The younger Wyr hadn't exaggerated. Counting Luis, nine other people awaited them. A couple of opened bottles of wine sat on the coffee table, along with Diet Cokes, and several glasses.

Graydon took a quick sweep of the room. Claudia sat in a yoga position, cross-legged on the floor, her spine straight and posture relaxed. She looked like she could maintain the position all night if needed. Luis joined her, sprawling on the floor beside her.

Carling and Rune occupied one comfortable armchair. Rune lounged in the chair, while Carling perched on one arm and draped her shapely torso along the back, curling around his shoulders like a cat.

Slightly disconnected from the others, Constantine stood by the window. He leaned against the wall in a casual pose, arms crossed and one ankle kicked over the other. His posture was relaxed, but his sharp, curious gaze took in everything.

Julian sat at one end of the large couch, while Melly sat on the floor at his feet and leaned against his legs.