for the sealing kiss. Clasp your hands together at your back. Do not move them.”
She did so, wondering at the knowledge that had just arrived. Crazy knowledge.
This was a pivotal moment. Tension clawed at her. On one side of this was normality. On the other side was something that might crack her universe wide open. The kiss was the lever that would create the crack. From that would spill something both good and bad.
I’m imagining. It’s only a kiss.
She opened her mouth as his lips met hers, and welcomed him in. Their breaths merged, their tongues played, dueling, erotic, stirring her body more than any kiss should. She whimpered as he sucked at her tongue, squeaked and writhed on her knees as he wrapped both his hands around her throat. The tide shuddered up her and took her away into an effortless orgasm. Her moans echoed in her head.
Her mind saw . Everywhere, everywhere she looked, were particles of wrongness. She sensed them, felt them, made them whole. Her Master. The dog. The dying creature in the garden. The thing down the street – she touched that and recoiled. As the last spasm rippled hotly down to her toes, she fainted into blackness.
Chapter 7
Jadd lurched, overcome by a sudden sense of something hard to understand. He knelt beside Brittany, where she’d collapsed, and he felt nothing. An absence. No pain in his leg. His thigh had seemed close to healed earlier in the day. Now though, it was perfect. Even the vaguely sore throat had gone – the one he’d acquired from some minor Earth virus that had escaped the viral shielding vaccine. The itchy nose too. And the spot where he’d dropped something heavy on his foot. All were gone.
What had just happened? The claiming ceremony was a traditional rite, nothing more.
The sparrow that followed her was here. He frowned. It lay lifeless under the dining table. It shriveled, crackling, turning into black fragments that crumbled to a scrunched ball of charcoal. Then, step by step, elegant origami in reverse, it unwrinkled and unfolded, puffing out into a sparrow shape. Iridescent feathers burned into being across the surface of its body. Bright metallic blue, red, and orange that hurt the eyes. The bird popped upright, shivered through a last burst of flame that made its feathers look completely alight then launched into the air, and flew out the window.
What? He needed his eyes checked, or his mind. That had not happened. Maybe that Earth virus caused hallucinations.
Maybe it was real. He sat, unmoving, and tried to understand. If that was real, her sparrow had died then had been reborn. If what his eyes insisted had happened was true, did it have something to do with Brittany?
And his leg had healed…and it had improved suddenly yesterday also. Was it her? Magic? Except, there was no such thing.
He shook his head. Stupid. It didn’t add up at all.
What mattered was this woman in his arms. He had to convince everyone else it was best they stay together. If he failed, he’d leave her with memories only. And possibly a stronger bond than before. He had to sort out how to do this, what to say. They’d be monitoring the killer. They’d monitor this apartment. Her. Him. There was little time.
The door burst open and heavy boots tromped in.
Or no time at all. His stomach became as heavy as lead.
A flare of a peculiar shade of citrine light from the balcony warned an Ascend had arrived. Which meant he’d really stirred them up. Kak.
As he straightened, the Ascend pushed through the daisy motif curtains. So incongruous. A bronzed and scaled Ascend draped in floral.
Then Brask and two of his soldier brothers stomped in from the entrance hallway, clad in coats, bedecked in weapons.
He stood, slow, palms out then looked down when Brittany gasped.
She rose to hands and knees, her red-tipped breasts swaying, her eyes dazed. With her lips seared from his kisses. Her cheeks were flushed and blotched as if she had a fever. Vulnerable. His girl.
He
Legs McNeil, Jennifer Osborne, Peter Pavia