feelings toward Nick, if Gideon was so friggin’ riled.
What, did she want his inner demon neutered the way Creed’s had been?
Nick twitched at the thought. So did Gideon. Like a muscle spasm, only deep in Nick’s brain. He rested his hand on the thick chain around his own neck. His talisman. The key to controlling the Gideon part of his essence.
We have different ways, Creed and I, he told that Gideon aspect of himself. I would never let anyone melt you into me, or whatever those Russian Mothers did to Creed.
Gideon responded with a peaceful, trusting silence, though Nick sensed his beast-half continued to keep a close watch on the crone in the green robes.
Abruptly, Cynda raised her hands.
The images in the mirror blurred and faded as the fire Sibyl danced quick circles on the table, arms up, fingers sweeping back and forth like she was literally clearing the air.
Nick kept his breathing even as he watched the magic unfold, from the way Cynda moved to the way the mirrors shuddered against the walls, changed in texture, seeming to grow two-dimensional again even as the energy in the room moved and shifted around Cynda.
She was the center of all things and reality in that moment, and then—then it was just over.
The pictures in the mirror, now flat and indistinct, slowly blinked into nothing, then into reflections of the bedroom. After a few more minutes of slower dancing, Cynda stopped, her chest rising and falling, rising and falling. She spoke some quiet words, then climbed off the table and walked toward Nick, frowning.
He didn’t question her. In his months of knowing Cynda, he had learned that silence gave her more room to speak.
“That was harder than it should have been.” She raised one hand and rubbed her eyes. “The Mothers are beside themselves, and the adepts, too. All of us, everywhere. It was so hard to concentrate. I kept screwing up the chants and dances like I was a novice—and I know they all noticed.”
She hugged herself and looked absolutely fragile.
Nick ached to take her into his own arms and kiss away her stress and troubles, but he knew better. That would be like leaching a flame’s oxygen until it snuffed into sparks and smoke. It was way too easy to smother Cynda. As much as it went against his instincts and tendencies, he did have to let her lead more often than he was accustomed to doing with anyone.
“Bela Argos made sure the Mothers got Maura’s shotel right away.” Cynda seemed to hug herself even tighter. “Won’t take them long to get the results to us.” She shivered as she continued. “They want us to stay together, the triads, in several large groups, scattered across the city. Three or six in any patrol or incident response.”
Nick gave a nod of approval. “There is safety in numbers.”
Cynda gazed up at him. “And safety in letting friends and family take care of you. Thank you for guarding me, Nick. I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch about it.”
The way her eyes flickered, the way she leaned toward him—it was too much to take.
Nick bit back a groan as he bent down and brushed her soft cheek with his lips. “I’ll always keep you safe. I’ll never let you get hurt again.” He moved his mouth across her jaw, her chin.
Cynda responded, instant and certain, turning her mouth to his until they were kissing, deep and hard and full.
Nick pulled her closer, cupped her firm ass with both hands and squeezed until she moaned into his mouth. He could feel her nipples, hard and ready against his chest, and he wanted to take her right on her big table, pump himself into her this minute, this second.
She rolled her hips against his, grinding herself against his pulsing cock like she wanted the same thing, until he damned near lost control, until he almost picked her up and carried her to the huge slab of wood, tearing her clothes off with each step.
But she pulled back a second later and stopped him, palms against his chest, carefully pushing him
What, did she want his inner demon neutered the way Creed’s had been?
Nick twitched at the thought. So did Gideon. Like a muscle spasm, only deep in Nick’s brain. He rested his hand on the thick chain around his own neck. His talisman. The key to controlling the Gideon part of his essence.
We have different ways, Creed and I, he told that Gideon aspect of himself. I would never let anyone melt you into me, or whatever those Russian Mothers did to Creed.
Gideon responded with a peaceful, trusting silence, though Nick sensed his beast-half continued to keep a close watch on the crone in the green robes.
Abruptly, Cynda raised her hands.
The images in the mirror blurred and faded as the fire Sibyl danced quick circles on the table, arms up, fingers sweeping back and forth like she was literally clearing the air.
Nick kept his breathing even as he watched the magic unfold, from the way Cynda moved to the way the mirrors shuddered against the walls, changed in texture, seeming to grow two-dimensional again even as the energy in the room moved and shifted around Cynda.
She was the center of all things and reality in that moment, and then—then it was just over.
The pictures in the mirror, now flat and indistinct, slowly blinked into nothing, then into reflections of the bedroom. After a few more minutes of slower dancing, Cynda stopped, her chest rising and falling, rising and falling. She spoke some quiet words, then climbed off the table and walked toward Nick, frowning.
He didn’t question her. In his months of knowing Cynda, he had learned that silence gave her more room to speak.
“That was harder than it should have been.” She raised one hand and rubbed her eyes. “The Mothers are beside themselves, and the adepts, too. All of us, everywhere. It was so hard to concentrate. I kept screwing up the chants and dances like I was a novice—and I know they all noticed.”
She hugged herself and looked absolutely fragile.
Nick ached to take her into his own arms and kiss away her stress and troubles, but he knew better. That would be like leaching a flame’s oxygen until it snuffed into sparks and smoke. It was way too easy to smother Cynda. As much as it went against his instincts and tendencies, he did have to let her lead more often than he was accustomed to doing with anyone.
“Bela Argos made sure the Mothers got Maura’s shotel right away.” Cynda seemed to hug herself even tighter. “Won’t take them long to get the results to us.” She shivered as she continued. “They want us to stay together, the triads, in several large groups, scattered across the city. Three or six in any patrol or incident response.”
Nick gave a nod of approval. “There is safety in numbers.”
Cynda gazed up at him. “And safety in letting friends and family take care of you. Thank you for guarding me, Nick. I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch about it.”
The way her eyes flickered, the way she leaned toward him—it was too much to take.
Nick bit back a groan as he bent down and brushed her soft cheek with his lips. “I’ll always keep you safe. I’ll never let you get hurt again.” He moved his mouth across her jaw, her chin.
Cynda responded, instant and certain, turning her mouth to his until they were kissing, deep and hard and full.
Nick pulled her closer, cupped her firm ass with both hands and squeezed until she moaned into his mouth. He could feel her nipples, hard and ready against his chest, and he wanted to take her right on her big table, pump himself into her this minute, this second.
She rolled her hips against his, grinding herself against his pulsing cock like she wanted the same thing, until he damned near lost control, until he almost picked her up and carried her to the huge slab of wood, tearing her clothes off with each step.
But she pulled back a second later and stopped him, palms against his chest, carefully pushing him
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