Unleashing the Storm (28 page)

“What
could be so bad that you’d call that thing out again?” Oz asked.

“Things
are happening at ACRO…things I can’t explain.”

Oz
was silent for a long moment. “Tell it to talk to me. Tell it I’ll share with
you everything it reveals. It’s the only way to find out what it knows.”

“I
want you to be safe,” Dev protested.

“You
need to stop worrying about me,” Oz told him, even though every fiber in Dev’s
being told him that Oz didn’t mean it at all.

Dev
concentrated on the ghost. “Hey,” he shouted. “I’m ready to deal. But you’ll
need to talk to Oz.”

For a
few minutes, nothing happened. Then the room went cold, and Dev felt the
ghost’s presence like a weight pressing in on every inch of skin. Oz’s
breathing grew rapid, and then he jerked away.

“Oz—”

Oz’s
palm slammed into Dev’s chest as though to prevent him from going anywhere, but
no worry there. He wasn’t moving, not while Oz sat next to him, his body taut,
his skin icy.

“It’ll
deal, but it’s demanding the same thing it wanted before,” Oz growled, and Dev
felt the cold all the way to his heart. As a teen, Oz had banished the thing
before it had a chance to request anything in return for information about
Dev’s past and future. Then, almost four years ago, it had asked for something
Dev couldn’t give, not even to find the ACRO agent. The guilt ate at him, and this
time, he wouldn’t back down.

“Yes,”
he whispered, and then louder, “Yes. Let it know that if it gives me the
information I need, it can have my body. Like it wants.”

Dev
could feel Oz’s fury, a wave of psychic energy that blasted through his brain
with enough concussion to snap his head back. “You’ll be fighting for control
constantly. It won’t stop at your body. You’ll be in a battle for your soul.”

“I
can handle it,” Dev said, and Oz cursed. “Now find out what it’s wanted to tell
me for all these years.”

The
room grew colder, until Dev’s teeth chattered, and the pressure on his body
increased, as though he were sinking deeper into the ocean, and then suddenly,
everything was back to normal.

“Jesus,”
Oz breathed. “Oh, Christ.”

Dev
grabbed Oz’s hand and turned to him. “What? What is it?”

Oz
pushed to his feet, and Dev felt the loss like a strike to the gut. “Dev…just,
shit.”

“Goddammit,
Oz. Tell me!” He’d never heard Oz so rattled, so on the verge of what he could
only guess was fear.

“His
name’s Darius.”

“And?”

“Give
me a second.” Oz was pacing. Dev could hear the footfalls, could hear Oz
running his hands through his hair frantically. “He was a Druid priest who
worked for the man who ultimately took over Itor.”

Dev
blinked. He hadn’t seen
that
coming.

Still
pacing, Oz continued. “Thirty-six years ago, that man, Alek, had Darius
tortured to death. It was bad. God, it was bad. He’s showing me…the blood,
God.
”

Oz
was rambling now, his words coming fast, too fast, because Dev had a sickening
feeling he didn’t want to know any more.

“You
had been born just days earlier, and Darius died screaming your name,” Oz said.
“Some sort of spell to locate you in death. His ghost found you, has been
watching you since you were a baby, waiting until you were strong. Strong enough
to take on Itor, to help him get his revenge.”

“Why
me?”

Oz
stopped his pacing in front of Dev. “Darius thinks you’ll want revenge too.”

“Because
Itor killed my parents?”

“No.
Shit.” Oz cleared his throat, something he only did when he was nervous, which
didn’t happen. Ever. “Alek’s girlfriend was pregnant—and eight months into the
pregnancy, she wised up. Darius helped her escape. He brought her to the United
States, to people he’d learned about through secret channels.”

Dev’s
heart started to pound, and an icy sweat broke out on his forehead. “I don’t
want to hear any more.” He scooted backward on the bed, but Oz caught him by
the shoulders and brought him forward, his grip strong but trembling.

“Those
people, the O’Malleys, adopted the baby to keep it safe,” Oz said, his voice
grim, as deep as if it had been dredged up from the pits of hell, and Dev had
to struggle to breathe. “Dev, the O’Malleys raised you, but your biological
father is Itor’s leader.”

The
world spun and Darius slammed into his body with a victorious shriek.

“Dev,
stay with me,” Oz commanded, but his voice sounded far away. The icy hands of
the ghost he now knew as Darius touched his back and Dev understood why Creed
had been so freaked out when this ghost touched him.

It
was a touch from hell…sexual and so much more. Soul-sucking. “I’m not going to
be anyone’s puppet,” Dev growled, more to himself than Darius, but the ghost
seemed to understand, to grip Dev even tighter.

“Good,
that’s good,” Oz murmured. “Dev, we can’t wait…I know you want more answers,
but—”

“We’re
not going to find them here,” Dev said. “Do whatever you have to do. I trust
you.”

“I’m
going to drive it out—for good.”

“Yes,”
Dev said, his hands on Oz’s shoulders to ground himself. “Oz, am I really…Oh,
my God…Itor.”

“Clear
your mind now. We’ll figure all that out once Darius is gone.”

But
Dev heard himself babbling, repeating, “Itor,” over and over, until Oz took him
by the shoulders and shook him hard.

“Dammit,
Dev, we don’t have provisions in place for ACRO if you have a breakdown. You’ve
got to stay with me…you have to fight.”

Fight.
Yes, Dev could do that. Except his second sight had faded to almost nothing,
his skin felt too tight for his body and he was cold. “So cold, Oz.”

Oz
pushed him back to the bed, spread his hands on Dev’s back, and a searing heat
came through his palms that made Dev hiss. The floor beneath the bed shook with
a force that their combined weight wasn’t responsible for.

When
an invisible hand caressed his cheek, he shivered harder and fought Oz’s hands.

“He’s
mine. Do you hear me? He’s all fucking mine,” Oz said, his voice low and
controlled.

“Oz,
please,” he moaned, because he wasn’t sure what the hell was going to happen.
He didn’t know whether or not Oz’s possessive display was just an act for the
spirit, and he wasn’t sure he cared if it was.

The
caress became a rough slap, first on one cheek and then the other. Dev
struggled to get up on all fours, groaned as Oz pressed his back harder and
harder, thankful he’d shut down his CRV because he didn’t want to see this, not
the way his body bowed to Oz’s or the way the muscles in his former lover’s
shoulders flexed.

Walls
shuddered, ceilings creaked and something fiercer than the wind and ten times
more pissed howled between his ears.

“Concentrate
on me,” Oz told him, bit the top of his ear hard enough to bring him back to
earth momentarily.

He
didn’t want to come back, wanted to forget Oz and the spirit and just
concentrate on himself for once, lose every single sense.

But
Oz refused to let him, the tug-of-war for Dev’s soul so fierce that Dev
realized he’d half collapsed onto his elbows, the spirit scrambling his mind
and his body.

“Love
you, Dev. Always have. I’ll keep you safe,” Oz murmured, and Dev knew just how
to help Oz get rid of this spirit that threatened to take everything from him.

With
an incredible power he didn’t think he had, Dev shoved Oz off of him and turned
to face him. His second sight was still gone, but he reached out to grab the
warm body he knew was right in front of him, pulled at Oz and kissed him, long
and hard, until Oz was pushing him back down to the mattress, his aura strong
enough to battle with the spirit Dev knew was watching.

Oz
didn’t care, kissed Dev harder, in a fight for all his attention, and Dev gave
in easily, let Oz’s tongue duel with his, their kiss part apology, part
promise.

He
didn’t resist when Oz stripped his shirt off, ran his tongue over Dev’s nipples
until Dev moaned.

“Like
the first time,” Dev whispered. “Do it just like the first time.”

Oz
chuckled against Dev’s chest. “You were trembling then. So scared.”

“I
wasn’t scared—I was cold,” Dev scoffed, remembering his bravado, and the way Oz
hadn’t been all that gentle but still managed to make it amazing.

It
was still amazing, and he yelled that thought out to Oz as Oz entered him, and
then his breath caught in his throat, and the enormity of what was going to
happen after they finished here overwhelmed him.

Dev
could feel Darius quelling with fear as he attempted to fight the bond between
the two men…could feel the spirit’s last attempt at a fight as it realized it
had no hope of battling Oz.

“Don’t
try to use your CRV. Just picture it, the way it was,” Oz commanded.

Oz’s
cock inside him for the first time, so impossibly hard it made Dev’s head spin,
put tears in his eyes, and yes, he’d been shaking, a mix of fear and excitement
running through his blood.

“The
way you remember,” Oz said.

Oz
murmuring in his ear about how hot Dev was, how much he was going to enjoy it
when Oz started pumping his hips, and, oh, his back arched off the bed as Oz
angled his cock to hit his prostate over and over.

“This
thing can’t get into your memories, no matter how hard it tries,” Oz murmured.

Dev
tightened his legs around Oz’s waist and trusted Oz, the way he had when he was
seventeen and cried out Oz’s name, the first man to ever touch him.

He’d
been with many since Oz, too many to count after they’d broken up that first
time.

It
had been Dev’s idea, but Oz had gone along with it, for reasons Dev hadn’t even
begun to understand until nearly four years ago, when Dev made the horrible,
but necessary choice to contact the spirit they now knew as Darius.

“Stop
thinking, Devlin,” Oz whispered. “Stop thinking and just feel.”

Oz
pulled out, all the way, and Dev heard himself moan in protest. In seconds,
Dev’s legs were nearly on Oz’s shoulders, and Oz entered him again, first
teased him with the head of his cock and then with a deep push that filled Dev
in a way no one else ever could.

“Mine,”
Oz growled fiercely, and something just as impressive growled back, a low
timbre that sent a wave of energy through the room. Not evil. Different. And
then he felt as if the floorboards would drive right through the mattress.

“Leave
him the hell alone.”

For
now…not forever.
The high-pitched
voice made Dev open his eyes, and he stared straight into Oz’s. No CRV. Just
pure, goddamned, clear as the day he last flew his C-130, sight.

He
needed to keep this moment forever, the look in Oz’s eyes, the way his dark
hair hung over his forehead, neither too long nor too short. Perfect. Just
perfect.

Oz
gave a powerful thrust of his hips, sent his cock plunging hard enough to make
Dev’s eyes roll to the back of his head. Except he refused to let that happen,
kept his eyes on Oz’s as they came simultaneously, the hot semen bonding the
two men—hot and complicated—together again.

MONDAY
4 A.M. MST

Ender
put pedal to the metal in order to reach the LZ. By his calculations, they’d be
well into the air by the time Kira would need sex again. The flight to ACRO
would take between six and seven hours, leaving them enough time to deplane
before she’d need servicing again. Once on the ground, he could easily find
someplace private before shuttling her off to the training facility.

The
thought of dropping her off made his head ache. He blamed the fact that he’d
thrown out his hamburger after hearing Kira’s story—even though he knew he
needed real meat, and fast, he just couldn’t bring himself to force it down.

Once
Kira got to ACRO, he wouldn’t have to worry about any of this. She’d be someone
else’s problem.