As the grip of lust loosened and Cain began thinking like a rational creature again, he realized that he owed Ronan a debt of thanks.
A man sworn to protect his lady did not have shower sex while the last of the magical protection she had faded.
Behind the door that had taunted him with its mere existence, he heard the water turn off. Rory would be stepping out of the shower now, all pink and dripping wet.
She’d shown him what she looked like, sharing her perception of herself through their link. He knew exactly what shade of dusky pink her nipples were, and that her natural hair color was a pale ash blond. What he didn’t know was how her nipples tasted, or how those wet, blond curls would feel under his fingertips.
Cain had never needed to know anything more in his life than the need to learn the answer to those compelling mysteries.
“I conferred with Tynan and Logan,” said Ronan. “They both agree that there are two options for dealing with the blood link the demon has on us.”
Cain had a hard time tracking the conversation. His mind was still firmly back in that shower with Rory, wondering how long he could hold out before pinning her against the wall as her fantasy demanded.
The bathroom door opened at his back. He felt the wet caress of steam curl around him. It was scented with soap and hot, damp skin. Rory’s skin.
Cain turned, unable to stop himself.
She wore only a towel wrapped around her breasts. Her face was scrubbed free of makeup, showing off the rich, dark brown of her eyes. She’d removed her multiple earrings, leaving his luceria the only jewelry left on her body. A deep flush of arousal painted her cheeks. Water droplets clung to her skin.
The mental image of him licking away each drop as he peeled away the towel plowed into him.
Her lips parted on a silent breath, and her nipples tightened against the thin towel.
One little tug and he’d be able to see for himself if her body was as beautiful as he’d seen through her eyes.
Behind him, Ronan cleared his throat. “Are you going to decide?”
“Decide what?” asked Cain, unwilling to take his eyes off of her for even a second. Opportunities to soak in such a rare sight did not come by often, even for men who lived as long as Cain had.
“Which approach we take to deal with the demon that has Rory’s blood.”
“Maybe Rory would like to decide herself,” she said. “After she puts some pants on.”
She brushed past them and shut the door to her bedroom.
“She doesn’t like me very much, does she?” asked Ronan.
“You don’t respect her. You treat her as if she’s an idiot.”
“She’s new to our world, to her power. It seems reasonable that she would defer to you in important matters.”
That made Cain laugh, releasing a bubble of sexual frustration and tension. “Defer to me? Really? Have you met Rory?”
Ronan frowned, but it made him look pensive and artistic. “I don’t know her as well as you do, clearly, but—”
“But nothing. Women like Rory don’t defer to anyone. She’s like Gilda. If you’re lucky, you get to voice your opinion before she decides to ignore it.”
“Stupid. Dangerous and stupid.”
“You never would have said that to Gilda’s face. At least not twice.”
Ronan nodded, a grimace of self-deprecation thinning his lips. “That is true. Though I doubt anyone could replace Gilda.”
Grief caught in Cain’s throat, surprising him with its ferocity.
Rory stepped out of her bedroom as she finished pulling a shirt down over her bare stomach. Her movements were rushed, her eyes plagued with worry. Those dark brown eyes met his. “Are you okay?”
She’d felt his grief. Already their connection was deeper than he would have thought possible in such a short time.
He was awestruck by it for a moment, unable to speak. Since Jackie had chosen Iain, he’d given up on the idea of finding a woman like Rory. He still wasn’t sure whether to believe she was real. Or that he’d get to keep her.
“We were discussing an old friend, lost to us now,” said Ronan. “No need to worry.”
Her cheeks turned as pink as her hair, and she stammered. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to butt in.”
“You weren’t,” Cain hurried to tell her.
A pink lock of wet hair clung to her cheek. Without thinking, he smoothed it back in place.
Her skin was hot and damp, reminding him all too keenly of the shower fantasy they’d shared. Not that it was a sight he’d soon forget. She’d shown him how she liked to be touched, which spots were the most sensitive. That was not the kind of knowledge he would carelessly toss aside.
Tie her to you with pleasure.
The stray thought caught him off guard. His mouth went dry, and he had to force his hand to fall by his side so he wouldn’t wrap it around the nape of her neck and pull her in for a kiss. Then, finally, he’d know just how she tasted.
Ronan cleared his throat. “So. About those options?”
“Options?” asked Rory, a bit breathless.
“For getting that Synestryn lord out of your head.”
Right. That.
Cain crossed his arms over his chest and stepped away. He couldn’t even look at her without losing every strand of concentration he had. She touched him too deeply, rocking him down to his core.
“What are they?” he asked.
Ronan had the good sense to address Rory directly. “I can sever the connection, which while the more permanent option, is also the more dangerous one. Or I can mask it, giving us enough time to track down this demon and slay it.”
“Sever it,” she said, without hesitation.
Cain suffered through a spike of fear before he got himself back under control. “Wait a minute. I think you need more details than that.” He looked at Ronan. “How dangerous? What are the risks?”
“Death, for one.”
“I’m okay with that,” she said. “I’m not okay with toting a demon around as some kind of brain buddy for the rest of my life.”
“I’m not okay with it,” said Cain. “Your life is far too valuable to toss away.”
“My life. My choice.”
Ronan held up his hand for their attention. “I’m not done. Death is not the only risk. There’s also brain damage.”
Rory went stiff and a little trickle of fear slid between them. “Yeah, I’m not a fan of that.”
“It’s still better than the worst possible side effect.”
She groaned. “I’m not sure I want to know.”
“I’m certain you don’t. But I will not proceed unless you’re aware of the risks.”
Cain couldn’t stand it anymore. He couldn’t simply stand here, pretending like she wasn’t suffering. He felt her. He couldn’t ignore her distress.
He threaded his fingers through hers. They were cold and trembling, bringing out every protective instinct he’d ever birthed. If he could, he would have tucked her away somewhere safe, but that was not an option. Not with Rory.
“What’s the worst-case scenario?” Cain asked.
“I fail utterly, and you will be trapped indefinitely within the Synestryn’s mind, unable to escape. You would essentially become part of the demon.”
She stopped breathing as a palpable wave of fear rushed through her, straight through the luceria into Cain. He gritted his teeth, suffering through the emotion alongside her.
Her voice shook harder than her fingers. “I’m not letting that happen.”
“On that, we’re agreed,” said Cain as he pulled her up against his side. She fit perfectly under his arm, like a piece of himself that he’d been missing all his life.
Ronan nodded once. “Good. Then I shall mask the beast and show you how to defend yourself against it, giving us enough time to find and destroy it.”
“Do you know where it is?” she asked.
Ronan’s pale blue gaze hit the carpet, as if he was hiding something. “I believe I can find it.”
Something was off here. Cain was sure of it. “What aren’t you telling us?”
The Sanguinar’s mouth flattened into a thin line of acceptance. “This creature is strong. Frighteningly so. The closer to it we get, the more power over us it will hold. And it’s not alone. I sensed connections to hundreds of demons. They bow to its will.”
“So we’re not simply fighting one demon, we’re going after an army.”
“I believe so, though it could be that the creature simply wanted me to believe that.”
“No,” said Rory. She scooted tighter against Cain’s side and gripped his hand as if seeking comfort. “Ronan is right. Any demon that is strong enough to make us believe it has an army is probably strong enough to actually have one.”
Cain gathered a warm strand of comfort and sent it streaming through their link. He was amazed by how easily he’d learned to use their connection—as if he’d been born knowing how.
Tears gathered along her lower eyelids for a moment before she blinked them away.
In that moment, with fear bleaching her skin and her slender body trembling against his, he felt filled with a sense of purpose. It swelled in his chest, making him feel stronger, faster. Invincible.
For Rory he would do anything—find a way to give her whatever she needed. She may not stay with him forever, but for now, she was his, and it was his duty—his joy—to provide for her.
He squared his shoulders as determination buoyed him. “If this beast has an army, then I will build one as well.”
A hot, bubbling feeling spread over his chest, tingling as it passed. His lifemark swayed like mad, as if tossed around by a fierce wind.
Rory looked at him in shock, like she’d felt it, too. Maybe she had. Or maybe she was reacting to his declaration.
She put her hand on his chest, and his heart leapt at the contact. “Are armies easy to come by in your crazy corner of the world?”
“No, they are not,” said Ronan. “There are only a few bound couples available to help.”
“They’ll come.” Cain was certain they would. “I’ll call Joseph and have him coordinate a meeting.”
A fierce rush of eagerness flooded through the luceria. Beside him, Rory seemed to vibrate with anticipation. “And in the meantime, Ronan can scrub my brain. After that, target practice.”
“Target practice?” Cain asked.
“If I’m marching into war, I’d better at least know what kind of gun I’m carrying, don’t you think? I wasn’t so hot with fire. But I should be good at something useful.”
He couldn’t bring himself to tell her that it could take years for her to grow comfortable with her abilities. She needed to believe she could do this, and because she needed it, so did he.
“Are we agreed?” asked Ronan.
Rory and Cain said, “Yes,” in unison.
“Good, then it’s time to see what this creature has done to your mind. Before Andra’s shields fail.”
“Go downstairs,” Cain told Ronan. “I want a minute alone with Rory.”
