Through the Static (17 page)

“I'm—” Aurelia started.

Isabel cut her off. “Maybe Jack should look you over.”

She turned to him and blinked one of her eyes. Jinx furrowed his brow. Intellectually, he knew that gesture. She was winking at him. His own mother was sending him off with a woman and
winking
at him. Even without years of social context, he knew that wasn't right.

He wasn't about to argue, though.

He and Aurelia caught on at the same moment, and then she was at his side, fingers reaching for his so they entwined. As one, they sighed.

Throat dry, Jinx nodded. “Can't be too careful.”

“Definitely not.”

“Go on. I've got this under control,” Isabel said, smirking more openly now. She wasn't the only one.

Curse chuckled, and Charm quirked an eyebrow up. Meanwhile, the three newly freed men radiated discomfort.

If they only knew.

“Come on.” Aurelia ducked her head, face pink and beautiful as she tugged his hand. In her mind, she showed him the way through the house at the same time that she traversed it, pulling him through one stale room and then another before opening a door and stepping through.

The air smelled old, the room spare, furnished only with a dresser and a chair. And a bed. Aurelia stopped well short of it, keeping hold of his hand as she faced him. Her eyes and mind were wide open, her lips soft. Lips he hadn't kissed in so long.

And later was now.

He dropped all his mental barriers at once, and her eyes rolled back in her head as she flooded his mind and he flooded hers.

“Jinx…”

Just as she was stepping forward, stepping into him and flush with him, Jinx pulled his fingers free of hers, suppressing the wince that took over her expression at the loss of contact. He took two steps backwards, only stopping when his spine hit the wall. There was so much to say, so many things he needed to ask her, and so many questions he didn't know if he wanted the answer to. His head spun.

“Pick one,” she whispered.

He gazed at her, overwhelmed by her presence and by love. All he could muster was, “I'm sorry.”

“No.” She shook her head, making as if to move in closer. In his mind, he begged her not to; he needed her touch, but he couldn't say what he needed to if she gave it to him. Her eyes went tight, and she clasped her hands in front of her, looking hurt and small. But she was so strong. So, so strong.

“I'm not,” she insisted. Her whole face fell, and she turned her gaze down. “I'm the one who should be sorry. I let them—I didn't keep you safe.”

His mind boggled. “It's my job to keep you safe. And I attacked you. I would have…” He could hardly say it. “If you hadn't stopped me, I could have…”

“You stopped yourself. Even though they had control of you. Even though I didn't sever the connection, because I was too weak.” She turned those soft, hazel eyes up at him, and it was like he could see the bottom of the world. “Because I didn't want to let you go.”

“I never wanted you to.”

“I know.”

She took one step closer to him, and there was nothing he could do. Nothing but stare at the wall behind her. “You said you didn't want this.” He gestured at his head and then at the space between them. “Didn't want me. In your head all the time. You didn't want this.”

The emotions were too much. He had no frame of reference for this—for laying himself bare. For finally having everything he'd ever wanted within his grasp and preparing himself to let it go.

“Jinx.”

His breath was coming too fast. His chest hurt. “You didn't want this.”

“Jinx.”
She spoke straight into his mind, forcing him open. Showing him everything.

The world narrowed, and the floor fell out from underneath him.

Through her eyes, he saw how she'd perceived him that very first night in his room—how even through her terror, he'd glowed. How she'd liked the look of him. He felt the tenderness of his hands on her skin as he'd stitched her up. Heard his voice inside her head, the cadence and the kindness, the resolution as he'd begged her to set him free.

His whole body ignited at the memory of his frame surrounding hers, penetrating her. He tasted their kiss through her mouth.

And then he nearly doubled over at the wave of her own self-doubt. He felt how she'd weighed her options, balancing her own most closely held desire to keep him for herself against the guilt that threatened to overwhelm her.

He wanted to
punch
something. She'd counted herself no better than his captors, giving him no choice but to bond with her. She'd wanted him to have options, to have the chance to sample everything the world could offer once he was free.

So she'd held onto him for as long as she could, all the while preparing herself to let him go.

And then at the moment of his mind being torn from hers, he felt the shrieking emptiness. The loss.

He gasped and lifted his eyes, pulling himself from the depth of her mind and to his own present, only to find her before him, her hand hovering a breath away from his cheek.

“You see now?”
Her mouth trembled, her eyes shining.

He insisted, dumbstruck and awed, “I thought you…”

In her mind and in his ear, she whispered, “I want
you
.”

Overload. The relief and need crescendoed into something too hot to hold inside him, but her fingertips brushed his jaw, and the world clicked into infinite resolution. His hand fit to the hollow of her waist, the edges of his mind to hers, like puzzle pieces, and he was falling. Into her and into the kiss he'd been longing for his entire life.

It was soft and hard, a wet opening of lips and the crush of her body to his as he pulled her tight. His synapses crackled with the anticipation of completion, his arousal instant at the taste of silken tongue and the graze of teeth. For what felt like forever, he drowned in her. When he resurfaced, it was through layers of liquid warmth, into air that was thick with her breath and with his.

And it was all still too much. Too wonderfully, thrillingly much. She knew what she was getting into, but in that moment, lips a breath away from hers, body swollen and primed, he felt like he needed to confess regardless. “I have a lot to figure out right now.”

Things about who he was and who he was going to be, how he fit into his own life and his rediscovered family. About what it meant to be more than a soldier—what it meant to be a son and a lover and friend.

She threaded her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and held him close, lips twisting up into an aching smile. “You're exactly who you are. And we'll figure out who that is.” Mouth a hairsbreadth from his, she whispered the word he'd been longing for. “Together.”

The lingering static in his head went beautifully, perfectly clear. It was all he needed to hear.

Chapter Nineteen

Aurelia's first kisses with Jinx had been some of the most intense, the most powerful she'd experienced in her life. They'd lit her up from the inside, blazing through her circuitry and making her flesh sing. When she'd convinced herself she needed to set him free, one of her biggest fears had been that nothing would ever begin to rival the heat of that first embrace, must less surpass it.

She'd been so naïve.

The strength of their new connection sizzled through her nerves, feedback like sparks in her fingertips as she raked them over his skin. All his earlier hesitation, the reserve he'd held even the last time they'd made love faded away as he pressed his palm to her throat, carded his fingers through her hair. He tracked her with eyes made heavy with desire, his own need echoing in the synapses between them, combining with hers until it was a wall of light, encompassing and expanding, and she couldn't see, couldn't think of anything beyond it.

Stepping into her, he claimed her mouth and pulled her flush to his hips so she could feel every inch of him, hard and necessary even through his clothes. She opened to him and tasted the sin of his breath, slipped her tongue between his lips and tugged him closer still. The circuit of their bodies completed, mouths and hands and hips, and it was too much. Too good.

“More.”

Deep in his throat, he growled. She'd hardly thought the word
clothes
before he was tearing at the fabric at her waist, pushing it up and away. As his hands made contact with flesh, it sent tremors up and down her spine. She helped him pull her top over her head, and her bottoms followed, leaving her naked before him. Unselfconsciously, he stripped away his own clothing, maneuvering and pressing kisses and hands to skin so as to never lose contact.

And when his whole body fit itself to hers, unimpeded by cotton or doubt or miscommunication, it was all startlingly clear.

In his mind, she saw a flittering scattershot of images, memories of sensations and sounds intermingling with the growing frenzy of their kisses, and she groaned into his mouth. Just as she'd shown him all the reasons why she loved him, he was explaining the only way he could how she felt to him. How it had been to lie beneath her and above her and to press inside her.

Her whole body an aching line of need, she wrenched herself from his grasp just long enough to take his hand in hers, to take the few necessary steps backward toward the bed in the corner of the room. Like the rest of the house, it was unused, a prop in the charade of this building's existence. She pulled the quilt from the top of it and flung it to the ground. A cloud of dust rose through the air, old things flying away and settling in the past where they belonged.

Letting go of her hand, Jinx sat on the edge of the mattress before pushing back to lie in the center of it, his body beautiful against pale, clean sheets. He held out his hand to her, but she wanted more. Now.

Climbing up, she ignored his offer and ducked her head to press soft kisses to his ankles and the tops of his feet, her synapses sparking with every brush of flesh on flesh. One by one, she kissed the insides of his knees and the tops of his thighs. Scraped teeth over the crest of his hipbone and reveled in his moan. Her breath washed over the glistening length of him, and when she wrapped her hand around the base, teasing the tender skin beneath, he pushed up into her touch, head arching back.

“Slow,”
he begged, thoughts a tangle of pleasure and anticipation, and she was right there with him.

He was hers now, body and mind, and neither of them could ever go back. She didn't want to go back.

She wanted to savor him.

Lowering her head, she looked up at him as she darted out her tongue, licked the drop of fluid from his tip. His body lit up with sensation, resonating across the perfection of their new link and making her own sex pulse. Taking a man in her mouth had never been like this before—had never been so powerful or raw. It had never felt so good to
her
.

Because she knew exactly how good this was for
him
.

She sucked him as slowly as he'd asked her to, meeting the pace he set in his mind, soaking in his moans. His thoughts disintegrated into an unfocused jumble of
more
and
faster
and
yes
, until his palm moved to the back of her neck, a gentle pressure combined with a silent plea for her to stop.

His voice was a low rasp, riddled with need. “Want to be inside.”

The arousal deep in the center of her body flared, a tightening of muscle and nerves all beating in simpatico with the man beneath her. With a low, wet sound, she let him slip from her mouth, kissing the slit before letting go. He jerked with the contact, eyes clenching and thighs cording with the strength to hold himself back.

He could have yanked her off. Could have pulled her away and rolled her over. He could have done whatever he wanted to. But all he'd done was ask.

Moving faster now, she licked and sucked her way up the rest of his body until her mouth was at his ear, hot breath and the scent of him in her lungs. She lowered her hips to meet his, sliding against him. Coating him. God, it felt good.

“How?” she asked.

His breath caught in his throat, his hands grasping at her hips as he bucked upward. There were so many ways to join their bodies, and the visions flooding her mind were half his and half hers. With one long thrust through the valley of her sex, he guided her down, shuddering at the glance of chest on chest. The mental slideshow of positions came to a stuttering halt.

Gliding one hand up her spine to rest beneath her hair at the base of her skull, he held her close.
“There's plenty of time, right?”

He wasn't just asking if they'd make love in different places and different ways. He was asking if she'd run again. If she'd cut him off or shut him out.

She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to his temple. “All the time in the world.”

Just like that, the restraint at the edges of his mind disappeared.

He telegraphed every move before he made it, imagining her body beneath his an instant before he rolled, taking her with him and settling himself against the cradle of her thighs. The cage of his arms around her torso kept her safe and close, and he found the space between her lips with his tongue. Sliding one hand down her chest, caressing nipple and breast, then waist and hip, he circumscribed her with his touch. He kissed her deep and curled his fingers just above her knee, hitching her leg up to fit his shoulder to it, bending back. Keeping her open.

“All I've ever wanted.”

The words reverberated through her mind and through her heart. With one more slide of his length along her outer lips, he pulled back, then, eyes heavy, he paused at the place where they would mesh.

She heard the words that were the mantra of all Threes. But they were different now.

“One mind,” he whispered. “One flesh.”

It was everything a link was meant to be.

He pushed forward at last, filling her and fulfilling all the promise of their bond. She didn't need to open her body or her mind to him. He already lived inside her and within her. Their pleasure was one. Their thoughts and skin. Their love.

In undulating waves, they moved against each other, the ache inside her tightening with every thrust. It all began to crest over far too soon, but with a shared understanding, they held it off.

“Slow,”
he urged.

Slow.

And it was such a luxury, to enjoy him like this. No danger or threat of separation hung over them, honing an edge to the space where they met. Instead, there was just this, just pleasure and connection, and she could keep it. She could have this, with him, forever.

Chasing and forestalling the inevitable, they danced, sinking and ascending in an ebb and flow that seemed like it might go on into infinity. Like they might just rise and rise and rise. Each halting breath seared the pleasure deeper, until his touch drove itself into her bones. Until finally, the connection between them snapped and there was nothing left but to brace for the plunge.

Only, in the rush of climax, she didn't fall into the darkness of the ashes of his former life. Together with him, she soared, into light. He wasn't lost. He was found.

And so was she.

Lying on his back with Aurelia tucked against his side, Jinx stared up at the ceiling. He felt warm and safe, sated in his body and secure in his mind. His thoughts entwined with those of the woman beside him, winding together and apart like the strokes of his hand through her hair. He was…happy.

Aurelia's smile pressed her cheek tighter to his skin. “What?” he asked, squeezing her tighter.

“It's a good look on you. Contentment.” She shrugged and shifted against him. “Changes your whole grid.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded. “Your thoughts are all bright and sweet and mellow. It's nice.”

He didn't need to ask. Not again. But he tapped a fingertip to the side of his temple all the same. “So you're still all right with it? Being stuck in here?”

“Not stuck. Connected to.” She pushed up, turning to lie on her stomach, her elbows braced against the bed. Pressing forward, she placed her face close to his. Close enough to kiss. “And I'm much more than all right with it.”

Her whole mental map was alive with the proof of it. Maybe, someday, Jinx would tire of hearing it.

“Sure,” she said, laughing. “I'll believe
that
when I see it.”

She leaned in closer, and he pursed his lips in expectation, only to have the kiss bypass his mouth entirely. The gentle brush of lips against the tip of his nose made him chuckle. If he ever got tired of anything when it came to Aurelia, it would shock him.

Settling back in against his chest, she let her mind wander again, and he gave his free rein to do the same. Their thoughts twisted and tangled together, drifting off in different directions only to reconverge.

“What do you think you'll do?” he asked, as together, their musings turned to speculations about the future.

“With?”

“Everything. Your research. The things you found out from me and my Three.”

He didn't miss the way she prickled for the slightest fraction of a second when he referred to Curse and Charm as his Three. “Don't call them that.” She shivered. “You're not part of that anymore.”

He rubbed her shoulder and kissed her brow. “I know.”

She narrowed his gaze at him, as if still doubting, but after a moment she moved on, her thoughts shifting to the next steps in her work. “We carry on, I suppose. Your case just proves there's more we need to do.” Her eyes connected with his. “That kind of link is a ticking time bomb. And even if it wasn't, it's
wrong
.”

“Of course it is.” All the things he'd lost. Lost because… Jinx swallowed hard. “Do you think there will be fallout? From what I did?”

He relived the moment of hurtling that knife through the air, both in her remembrance and his own. It had all happened in such a rush of rage and fear. In that moment, he'd been convinced that he'd be pulled back into the darkness, away from himself. Away from her. That he'd be forced to kill innocents or the people he loved.

And so, instead, he'd killed the darkest evil he had ever known.

Her thoughts clouded, but there was no lie among them. “I'm not sure. I have no doubt Isabel will deal with covering it up, but he's so connected. He's probably been reported missing by now.”

Fear tickled up his spine. “No one had this location.”

“No. And even if they did, they couldn't find it unless they had a tether to lead them. This place is off the map.”

His mind filled with the faces of the other Three. “You're sure no one will be able to trace—”

“Completely. Their master died. They're free and clear.”

“And nobody else had any claim to them?”

Aurelia hesitated, but in the end stayed firm. “If there is, Isabel will find it. But they're acting autonomously, without anyone interceding on their behalf. They're their own men.”

As one, their minds shifted to what that meant. Freedom. Jinx held her closer. “They're going to need a lot of help.”

They weren't the only ones. All the thoughts of what he was going to do with himself surged back into the forefront.

Aurelia entwined her hand with his. “Whatever they need. We'll make it happen.” She tipped her head back to look him in the eyes. “Whatever.” The lines around her mouth went softer. “How about you? Any idea what you want to do with yourself, now that you're a free man?”

At her suggestion, a hundred possible futures seemed to spread out before him, futures he had never imagined could exist for him. Her visions for their life together mixed and mingled with his own. In all of them, he was standing tall, proud of himself and proud of what he'd done.

Even the thought of it made his eyes burn.

“I don't know how I'll choose,” he said, shaking his head but keeping close the images that rolled through him. There were a few that kept surfacing again and again, ones that made him feel hopeful and warm. “I think…I think I'd want to help people. Do good.”

Make reparations.

She nodded. Her voice was quietly unassuming, putting no expectation on him even as she gave voice to his silent thoughts. “Maybe something with medicine again?”

It was what he'd wanted, Isabel had told him. And there were things his hands still knew how to do, even if he couldn't quite hold on to the memory of them. Things that were about giving life instead of taking it.

“Yeah,” he said, throat tight. “Maybe.”

After a long moment, she turned to rest her head against his shoulder again. Her fingertips danced their way across his chest to play over his collarbones, then higher, to the line of his neck. When she touched the LED there, he shivered.