Dead End Page 2

  I didn’t know Gunther well, just that he’d retired a few weeks after I’d joined. He was an old neph with some minor elemental ability. Emory must have brought him back to run things in his absence.

  “In fact,” Danika continued, probably emboldened by my silence, “I should ask him to revoke your access to the hub.” She smirked smugly and arched a perfectly plucked brow.

  I couldn’t be bothered with her. Not today. Not right now. “Do what you want, Danika.” I made a beeline for the doors to the back corridor. “I’m here to see Emory.”

  She moved fast to block me. “You’re not going anywhere but out of here.” She leaned in, her red-rimmed irises alight with dislike. “You don’t belong here. You belong topside doing guardian things. Emory doesn’t need you here. We’ve got this under control. We can run the heart fine. Gunther and I have got this.”

  This wasn’t about me. This was about the heart. She was threatened by my aptitude and knowledge of the machine. Until I’d come along, she’d probably been Emory’s right hand, his unofficial successor to run the hub, and then … Then he’d started spending time with me, showing me the ropes, leaving me in charge when he had time off. She was jealous, but not of Gunther, because she knew he didn’t want the role, but me … She wasn’t so certain about my motives. She knew how much I loved the heart. Except right now, I couldn’t give a shit about it. Right now, all I cared about was Emory.

  I met her glare with a cold one of my own. “Get out of my way, Danika.”

  “Or what?”

  I grabbed her arms and shocked her with a blast of arcana. Her shrill shriek cut at my eardrums as I shoved her aside. She rubbed at her arms, her expression suddenly wary, and my anger retreated as quickly as it had flared up.

  I sighed, suddenly bone-weary. “I’m not here for your damn job, Danika. As much as I’ve loved working on the heart, it’s not my priority right now. It can’t be. I’m here for Emory because he needs me and I … I need him.”

  Her mouth twisted in disgust. “First Deacon and now Emory too? You really are taking Harker’s example to heart, aren’t you?”

  My smile was thorns without the roses. “Don’t forget Lyrian and Micha. They’re mine too.”

  I breezed past her and through the doors that led to the corridor and Emory’s lab. The door was locked. I knocked and waited.

  Nothing.

  I knocked again. “Emory, let me in.”

  A shadow passed across the frosted glass.

  “Emory, come on.” I pressed my palm to the glass.

  The shadow retreated, and my heart sank. Why wasn’t he listening to me? Unless … “Gideon?”

  The shadow paused.

  I slapped my palm on the glass. “Dammit, Gideon, let me in.”

  The door opened, and I was being hauled into the room. It slammed behind me, and then I was pressed to the wood.

  Gideon’s gold eyes blazed a trail across my face. “You took your fucking time coming to see him. I thought you cared about him, about …” He pushed away from me and turned his back on me.

  About us? … Had he been about to say about us?

  “… about how he was doing,” Gideon finished.

  “I was giving him time to grieve and be with his fathers. I didn’t want to intrude.”

  “Intrude?” He turned slowly to face me.

  It was impossible not to admire how his cream T-shirt hugged his torso. It accentuated the breadth of his shoulders and stretched over his biceps. On closer inspection, he looked bigger, bulkier than Emory, and his face … his face was less refined than the neph’s.

  “Who gives a fuck about intrusion?” Gideon snarled. “Do you know that all he’s been doing is working? He hasn’t shed a fucking tear. He’s barely slept or eaten. I had to take the reins. I had to put him down for a while. He needed you, and you weren’t there.”

  His words were like accusatory darts burying themselves into my heart.

  Anger was a starburst in my chest. “Yeah? Well, I needed him too, and where the fuck was he? I lost my fucking sister, you bastard. So, where the fuck were you?”

  Gideon’s beastly, beautiful face froze. “Me?” He took a step toward me, his expression stunned. “Fucking hell, Patch. Fucking hell.” And then I was crushed against his chest almost painfully. “I didn’t know. I didn’t hear.”

  No, he hadn’t. Of course he hadn’t. Emory hadn’t been with me when I’d discovered Gem’s fate. He’d been with his mother, with Bane, and my eyes were getting hot with the threat of tears while my throat closed and pinched like fuck. No. No crying. Not now. I had to be strong.

  Gideon pulled back, his expression raw, part rage on my behalf and part sympathy. He had to stop looking at me like that. He needed to stop because if he didn’t, I’d break.

  “Echo—”

  I kissed him hard on the mouth, just a crush of lips on lips, just an inhale of his deeply masculine scent.

  He pushed me away and scanned my face with savage intensity. “Echo?”

  No. Not going there. “Don’t.” I kissed him again, pushing my tongue into his mouth. “Just make it go away. Please.”

  He grabbed my shoulders and pushed me away, his chest heaving, his tawny gaze raking over me, and then he slung me over his shoulder and carried me across the lab, past the cabinets and deep into the back. I knew where we were headed. To Emory’s hideout—the camp bed that he used sometimes when he was working late. Gideon knew what I needed to push away the burn in my eyes and keep the dam inside me from breaking.

  He threw me onto the bed and yanked off his shirt, his burning eyes locked onto me. I fumbled with my clothes, eager to get them off. I needed this. Needed the violence and the aggression and the pain. He climbed over me, his body hard and unyielding against my hungry fingers. His gaze assessing, almost calculating. I was naked, ready, and beneath him. So, what was he waiting for?

  “Gideon, please. Just … do your thing, just—”

  “Make you forget?” His lips twisted. “That’s what you want from me? A band aid, a distraction?”

  Yes, that was exactly what I wanted.

  “You want pain?” he demanded.

  “Yes.”

  “A different kind of pain to forget the one in your heart.”

  “Yes, yes. For fucksake, just fuck me already.”

  His fist tangled in my hair painfully, and he shoved his hips between my thighs and thrust into me, no foreplay, nothing. The burn of his invasion and his grip on my hair brought tears to my eyes, but these were tears of physical pain. These tears I could handle.

  “Is that all you got?” I spat the words at him.

  His lip curled, and then he began to thrust hard and deep until I was crying out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. He bit my shoulder and kneaded my breasts, his hands rough and uncaring. Yes, God, yes. I grabbed his hair, yanking his head back to suck on his throat until he let out a sound that was part groan, part growl. And then he flipped me onto my front, yanked me roughly down the bed so my legs were dangling off, angled my hips, and rammed into me from behind.

  My cry was cut off as he pressed my cheek into the mattress with one hand on the back of my head as he fucked me. I was powerless, trapped beneath him as he pounded into me. The wet slap of flesh on flesh, my cries, and his guttural moans were the only sounds. The shockwaves of pleasure that raced through my body, tightening painfully at my core, were the only sensations. There was no death, no sorrow, only this singular moment of carnal pleasure.

  I came hard, my hips jerking back into his with the rippling contractions that milked his cock.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He pumped hard as he came.

  And then his weight was on my back, his lips caressing my ear. “As much as I enjoyed that, you can’t fuck your grief away, Echo.”

  I grit my teeth and ground my hips into his. He was still as hard as a rock inside me. “I beg to differ.” I angled my hips away and then pushed back into him.

  He groaned into my ear. “
Oh, baby, you have no idea what you’re playing with.”

  “Then show me.”

  He pulled out of me, flipped me onto my back, and proceeded to show me just how much pleasure you could find in pain.

  I lay aching and throbbing and burning. His hands and his cock and his mouth and his teeth had left their marks on my body. But my bruises would heal; it was my heart that needed salvaging, but it was broken, a part of it lost forever.

  I turned my head to the side and squeezed my eyes shut.

  Micha and Lyrian clamored inside my mind, reaching out to me, wanting to know I was okay, but I locked them out. I couldn’t deal with Micha’s soft touches and the gentle caresses, because if I allowed him to make love to me, then I’d break down. I’d crack wide open and drown in my pain. I couldn’t cope with their love right now. But this thing with Gideon I could handle. I’d vented my anger, turning it into aggression against him. I’d given him my body while keeping my heart intact.

  This I could handle.

  He trailed a finger down my abdomen. “You can’t fuck away your grief,” he said again, softer this time.

  “Fuck you, Gideon.”

  He chuckled. “Anytime, baby. Anytime.” He pulled me close, rolling onto his side so my breasts were pressed to his chest.

  My blood heated at the contact, and my breath caught.

  His laughter died, and his golden gaze fell to my lips. “But lover boy’s awake now.” His cock hardened against my stomach. “I’ll leave you two to it.” He stroked down my side and then gripped my hip hard, grinding his arousal against me. “Just a taste.” His mouth found mine, and our tongues tangled, fighting for dominance, and then there was a tugging in my solar plexus as he stole from the essence of me. Feeding on my power. The sensation was both invasive and deeply intimate, and I was wet again, throbbing for him, but he tore his mouth free and smiled. “Sweet like nectar. Oh, Echo. I could get used to this. Until next time …”

  What? “Wait.”

  I’d come to speak with Emory and ended up taking something for myself. The moment of selfishness left a bitter taste on my tongue, and the last thing I needed was for Emory to find us like this—naked and spent. But his eyes had already darkened to twilight, and then it was Emory’s arousal that was trapped between us.

  He blinked down at me, his intelligent gaze quickly assessing the situation, and then his hand slid up to my neck. His long fingers slid into my hair while his thumb caressed my cheek.

  “Emory, I—”

  He cut me off with his lips, soft and tentative and filled with longing and pain. No. No, I couldn’t do this. I tried to pull free, but his grip tightened as he deepened the kiss. Heat bloomed in my chest, threatening to thaw my heart.

  I pushed at his chest, and he came up for air.

  “Don’t.” The tears were back, hovering on my lashes. “I can’t do this with you.”

  He pressed his forehead to mine and then kissed away the tears I hadn’t even realized had escaped. He gathered me close and rubbed my back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  I stiffened. “You were listening?”

  “Yes.”

  “Were you … when Gideon and I were …”

  “No, I retreated for that part.”

  Oh, God. What was I doing?

  He gripped my chin and forced me to look up at him. “We’ve been going about this the wrong way. I threw myself into work and you … You focused on the mission, on getting that meeting with the council and winning them over.”

  “You heard?”

  “Deacon slipped me notes under the door. But he didn’t tell me … He didn’t tell me about Gem.” He brushed his lips across my forehead. “We both tried to run away from our loss, but we can’t move forward, not until we accept it and allow ourselves to feel.”

  “I know that. I’m just scared that if I do, then I’ll fall so deep I’ll drown.”

  He stroked my cheek. “Maybe if you do it alone. But if we do it together … Maybe we can keep each other afloat.”

  “Emory, I don’t know …”

  He took a deep breath. “I’ll go first. My mother was my hero. She protected me and then taught me how to protect myself. She loved me with every fiber of her being, and I loved her with every fiber of mine, and now … Now, she’s gone.” His voice cracked, and when he spoke, it was thick with suppressed emotion. “I have to live without her.”

  I licked my lips as Gem’s face filled my mind, but this time, instead of blocking the image, I allowed it to flood me. I allowed the memories to wash over me like a wave of gravel that tore at my senses and brought a raw sob to my throat.

  “My little sister is dead. I was meant to protect her, and I failed. She was sweet and kind and had her whole life ahead of her, and now she’ll never get to grow up.” The dam inside was crumbling. “I’ll never get to hold her or tell her how much I love her or how proud I am of her. She died alone, in the dark, with the filthy Sanguinata’s fangs at her throat, and I …” My nails bit into my palms. “Oh, God, she must have been so scared, so fucking scared, and I wasn’t there, Emory. I wasn’t there to save her!”

  The tears erupted, burning a path down my cheeks, stealing my vision and my capacity to breathe. Emory held me while I gasped and sobbed, and then his body began to shake with mine as we held onto each other and rode the wave of sorrow together.

  Chapter 3

  Emory closed the scuttler’s head with a click. “So, that’s how far I’ve got.”

  I studied the dismantled scuttler spread out on the workbench amidst papers covered in Emory’s spider crawl. “And you’re confident it will work?”

  He ran a gloved hand over his head. “As confident as I can be without a test run. The way I see it, we get one shot at this, and we need to make it count.”

  “So, when do we do this?”

  “Tomorrow afternoon. I have a location in mind. I’ll let my dads know. We’ll need transport, though.”

  With the hawk gone, we’d need Draconi power. “Lyrian could carry us both.”

  He nodded. “The equipment though …” He rubbed his chin. “Leave it with me. I’ll see what I can do.”

  He’d slipped into work mode, and that was my cue to leave. I touched his arm lightly to get his attention, and when he turned to me, I pushed up on my tiptoes and kissed his jaw.

  “I’ll see you later.” I made to turn away, but he grabbed me around the waist and pulled me against him.

  “Later.” His kiss was tender and filled with promise.

  I left him to his work and headed back to the Protectorate Chamber.

  Micha, Lyrian, and Verona greeted me when I got back. I’d moved Bry and Verona into the chamber without official permission, and if anyone gave me any hassle, then I’d tell them to shove it. My brother needed me, and Verona … Verona was family.

  My gaze flicked to Bry’s bedroom door, which was firmly closed. “Is he asleep?” It was barely six in the evening.

  Verona put down her book. “He said he was tired. He didn’t eat much. Echo … I know you don’t want to hear this, but I think he needs to go back to school. Even if it’s for a few hours a day. He needs normality, and he needs his friends.”

  Panic was a band around my chest. “He needs me. He needs to be where I can keep an eye on him.”

  Verona looked to Lyrian and Micha, then back to me. “You’re busy, Echo, and you’re about to get busier. It would be best for Bry to have his old routine restored.”

  Micha and Lyrian exchanged glances.

  “What?” Had they been talking about this? About me and my brother behind my back? Heat stained my cheeks and anger licked at my chest as I turned to the guys. “What? You agree with her?”

  Micha’s ember eyes were soft with sympathy, and it made the band around my chest tighter. Oh, God. I couldn’t breathe.

  Lyrian was on his feet in an instant, his hands on my shoulders. “Breathe, Echo, breathe. It’s all right. Bry is all right.”

  I clut
ched at his biceps, my eyes watering as I rode the wave of anxiety that assaulted me. Lyrian pulled me to his chest and wrapped his arms around me. His scent and his heat washed over me like a safety net, prompting my body to relax and melt into him.

  I laid my head on his chest and squeezed my eyes closed. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what that was.”

  “A panic attack,” Micha said gently. “But you’re okay now.”

  I held on to Lyrian for a moment longer, drawing strength from him, and then I pulled away to look up into his face.

  His glacial eyes warmed for me. “To answer your question, I think that seeing his friends and doing something normal will be good for Bry.”

  My little brother had retreated into himself over the last few days. I’d kept him off school, kept him with me, but maybe they were right. Maybe what he needed most of all was to get back into his usual routine, but the thought of letting him out of my sight made every muscle in my body tense up.

  I was scared.

  Scared that something would happen to him. I blew out a breath. “I can’t be with him every moment.”

  “No, you can’t,” Lyrian said. “But the feral Sanguinata are all dead. There are no other threats in the Hive. He will be safe.”

  Even though my mind knew this to be true, my pulse hadn’t got the memo because it was thrumming like crazy. I took another deep breath and nodded.

  “Okay?” Verona asked.

  “Yes. Okay. I’ll speak to him in the morning. Maybe he can do a half day tomorrow?”

  Verona’s smile was warm. “You’re doing the right thing.” Her eyes were moist, and she ducked her head quickly and stood. “I’ll go check on him.”

  She disappeared into Bry’s room, and I fell onto the nearest sofa. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

  “You’re doing the best you can,” Micha said.

  He pushed up the sleeves of his long-sleeved shirt to reveal his muscular forearms. His crimson skin gleamed in the lamplight, making me want to touch him.