Free Kindred of the Fallen by Isis Rushdan Page A

couldn’t reach you on your cell. I had to make a decision.”
    The team had never been divided. Four might be able to take care of the situation, but nine would be better.
    He opened his car door and stepped outside. Grains of sand shifted in his legs where bones and joints used to support him. His knees buckled and he grasped hold of the door to steady himself. The strain of such self-control had exhausted his strength. The struggle to be near her without having her had weakened him.
    Cassian, who lounged against a tree across the driveway, straightened with alarm. Cyrus raised his hand to stop him from coming over. He didn’t need the boy’s assistance.
    What he did need only one person could give him.
    He peered back inside and extended his hand to help Serenity from the car. She swung her legs out on the opposite side toward Abbadon.
    Cyrus slammed his door, taking in a deep breath. The bulge in his pants hadn’t eased. His phallus throbbed with voracious hunger, demanding satisfaction. He stalked around the vehicle to find out what in the hell was wrong with his female.
    She hesitated in front of the open door as if contemplating whether or not to duck back into the car. As he closed the distance between them and towered over her, she trembled.
    Was she afraid of him?  
    He’d never hurt her. He’d endure every form of suffering the world had to offer if it meant she’d never have to know misery or pain.
    Energy surged inside of him. His stream was still connected to hers in symbiotic perfection. He concentrated on the oscillating cords of energy woven between them, binding them to each other. His fingertips tingled as a new kind of vitality zipped through his limbs, strength returning.
    In the stream that united them, he didn’t sense fear from her.
    His gaze fell to the succulent curves of her honey-colored breasts. Black lace cradled her bosom the way his hands and mouth wanted to. A pert nipple begged to slip free.
    She grasped the top of her short-sleeved shirt closed, holding it with her hand. Two buttons must have been knocked off somewhere in the car.
    Her gaze flickered up to his, her eyes bright amethyst jewels. Crimson suffused her cheeks. The color flushed her face and neck. She glanced at Abbadon from the corner of her eye. Her grip on the shirt tightened.
    Cyrus pushed her exposed bra strap up her arm and tucked it underneath the shirt. “Are you all right?” He caressed her shoulder.  
    Understanding coaxed the anger from him.
    She nodded and he wrapped his arm around her, guiding her away from the vehicle. She tensed but didn’t pull away.
    Time was not his ally today. He wanted to comfort her, answer the torrent of questions that must be flooding her mind, and make her feel safe.
    She pressed into his side, quivering like a leaf in the autumn breeze. Her warm frame seemed fragile in his arms. The scent of her skin tantalized him, making his passion flare.
    Abbadon stood in his path, arms folded, silently reminding him to hurry. With the team separated, the mission would be twice as difficult and dangerous.
    Duty first.
     
    Serenity stood beside Cyrus, desperate for answers and for a shred of anything he’d said earlier to make sense. First mercenaries had tried to abduct her, now lover boy had dragged her off to goodness knows where. He wasn’t going to hurt her, that was for certain, but given another opportunity he’d have her naked and on her back, longing for more.
    And next time she might not have the strength to resist him.
    She clutched her shirt tighter, wanting to shrivel up from the embarrassment of being caught in the midst of such an indecent moment. She wasn’t that kind of woman for crying out loud, the kind who had casual sex or slept with a guy on a first date or cheated. It’d taken Evan six long years to get into her panties and she’d almost betrayed his trust in the back seat of a car with his client.
    “Serenity, this is Abbadon. He’s a close friend and stays