Wicked Edge
“All right.” Daire’s brain sorted facts. “So Suri betrothed you to Bychkov in order to secure a treaty between his nation and Bychkov’s people.”
“Yes, but I’d met Dane Kyllwood, and we ran away together. Had the boys and lived a nice life in Africa until he died.” Sadness twisted her lip.
Daire leaned back, narrowing her gaze. “How exactly did you meet Kyllwood?”
She shrugged, her gaze sliding away. “You know. At a bar downtown.”
“Felicity.”
The pink turned to red, and not with embarrassment but shame. “Dane lived with a small coalition of vampires, and the demons had attacked them for land, so he infiltrated Suri’s headquarters to assassinate him. Instead, Dane found me, and I was injured, so he, ah, got me to safety.”
Everything inside Daire stilled. “How were you injured?”
She lifted a shoulder and sighed. “Suri and I didn’t get along well.”
“He beat you?” Daire growled.
Her gaze met his. “I hit him, too.”
Jesus. “So you got away, gave birth to three sons at a very young age, and then Dane died, leaving you alone in the world.”
“Yes.”
The only question remaining, he figured he could answer himself. Every move she’d made in the last week had been focused specifically on one target. Yet he wanted confirmation. “Bychkov killed your mate.”
Her eyes flashed and she stood. “Yes. It’s Bychkov’s time to suffer before I kill him.”
Chapter 11
Felicity settled her stance. The enforcer stood, legs braced, torso bare. Man, he was ripped. Dark hair curled at his nape, and he’d shaved in the shower, revealing the razor sharp cut of his jaw. A slight shadow already darkened his skin, all masculine.
Her vampire mate had been a kind man, much older than she, and he’d been incredibly over-protective from day one. She’d been injured and then pregnant so young, that she’d understood. But she’d never really had the chance to become the strong woman inside her until recently.
Daire treated her like a woman and not like a fragile flower. She liked that.
His green eyes pinned her in place. “Lemme get this straight.” Every once in a while, his Irish brogue broke through.
She ignored the quivers in her abdomen from the deep accent. “All right.”
“Your plan is to financially cripple Bychkov by destroying all of his mines, and you needed my records to find the hidden ones, because you figured I’d be investigating anything having to do with the mining of planekite.”
“Yes.”
Daire didn’t react. “Why take Simone’s records?”
Felicity glanced down. “She’s on the Council, which is investigating the planekite mines, so I just emptied her file cabinet.” Her heart rate picked up. “You seem angrier about her files than yours.”
“Aye. My job is to protect her.”
“That’s not all,” Felicity said.
“No. Simone is my cousin, and I’ve taken care of her since she was a little girl.” Loyalty and fondness strengthened his voice.
That’s exactly what Felicity had feared. “I understand.”
“So, you’ve blown up his mines. Now what?”
She breathed out. “I have several corporations making moves on his business holdings, and I have groups devaluing any physical property he has around the world.” She’d also implemented a strategic securities attack to destroy his stock market portfolio, as well as the portfolios of his entire consortia group.
“Is that all?” Daire drawled.
No. But telling Daire about the upcoming three bank heists for all of Ivan’s cash seemed like oversharing. “Yes.”
“Then what, Cee Cee?” Daire unfolded his body.
Her breath hitched. “Then I finish him.”
Daire gave a short nod, the sides of his eyes crinkling in realization. No amusement. “Fight to the death, huh?” he murmured.
She cleared her throat and glanced at the clock again. Plenty of time. “That’s my plan.”
Daire followed her gaze, landed on the clock, and returned. “Have a hot date?”
“No, but very soon, I must be going.”
He chuckled then. The sound pulsated against her skin, licked down, and settled between her legs. “Do you really think you’re going anywhere?”
Her nipples peaked, even as her temper stretched cautiously awake. “Excuse me?”
He blinked, slowly. Like a predator, almost intrigued, yet with lazy indulgence. “You know, you’re at a disadvantage here.”
Her head snapped up. “Oh, am I?”
“Aye. I’ve seen the real you since day one. The fighter, the strategist, the woman.” He cocked his head to the side in a curiously dangerous movement. “You haven’t seen me.”
What the heck? “I don’t understand.”
“I agree.”
God save her from enforcers talking in riddles. “I’m pretty much a straight shooter and don’t really catch subtext, Dunne.”
“Ah.” He reached her in two long strides, lifting her by the elbows, turning, and dropping to the sofa with her legs bracketing his.
She slapped her hands against his very strong chest. Outrage filled her along with a heat she couldn’t banish. “What in the hell are you doing?”
“Whatever the hell I want to.” His hands clamped her hips and held tight. “Which is something that surprises you.”
“I’m not accustomed to being manhandled,” she breathed, trying to ignore the iron-hard thighs between hers.
His cheek creased. “I’d think not.” Slowly, deliberately, he ran one hand up her side, over her shoulder, and threaded his fingers through her hair. “But here’s the thing, sweetheart. I don’t give a shit who your family is, and they sure as hell don’t scare me. I don’t care who your parents were, your brother was, or your kids are. In fact, I not only don’t see you as a mom, I don’t see you as a demon.”
She swallowed, her heart hammering against her ribs. In her entire life, she hadn’t met anybody like Daire Dunne. For so long, she’d been afraid of her siblings, thinking demons were the most dangerous beings on earth. For the first time, she wondered. Was anybody more dangerous than a Coven enforcer? “You don’t scare me,” she barely ground out.
One dark eyebrow lifted. “Then you’re not as smart as I assumed. You’re young, and you’ve been fairly sheltered from the world, Felicity. Watch yourself.” A twisting of his wrist in her hair accompanied the warning. “Any man who’d attempted to drug me would be dead. Any woman I didn’t know would be brought before the Coven Nine and probably seriously burned. And a woman I’ve fucked three ways to Sunday? Well, now. She’d be wincing every time she tried to sit down for the near future.”
The hand tethering her head kept her from moving, so she glared. “Careful, witch.”
“As I was saying, we haven’t properly dealt with the fact that you drugged me and made me chase you across the world and nearly drown.”
She swallowed, her body tensing. “You’re not serious.”
Both eyebrows went up.
She held perfectly still. Her lungs compressed. Though she was trained, and she had power, she’d seen him fight. The man was made for it. “Listen, Enforcer. When I drugged you, I didn’t even know you.” They sure hadn’t been intimate before she’d tricked him. Then she caught herself. What in the heck was she doing, reasoning with him?
“Good point.” He leaned in, his eyes an inch away. “I’ve been inside you now, and you’ve moaned my name, so that changes things.”
“No.” Regret mingled with the desire blazing through her. “I’m sorry.” Because she did see him. No way, no way, would he allow a woman he cared about to fight to the possible death, which was something she had to do. It had to be her. Forget equality, forget feminism, he was an enforcer and a protector. He wouldn’t stand by as somebody he cared about walked into danger, and if they continued to be together, he’d care. Whether he knew it or
not, he acted from the heart and not the head. “What we had was one night in a blizzard. That’s all.”
“Prove it.”
“Wh-what?” she breathed.
He closed the small distance between their faces, his breath stirring her lips. “Prove you don’t want me. You don’t want more.”
Her panties dampened. She was at a distinct disadvantage when it came to experience, and she knew it. Her mate had been her first and only, and he’d been more a gentle roll and sweet trust. Although Daire had definitely tried to be gentle, there was nothing sweet about him. He was all fire and storm, and a part of her, a female part she’d denied for so long, wanted to feel the bluster and ride the burn.
His nostrils flared, no doubt scenting her arousal. “Go ahead. Say it.”
Denying the obvious was silly. “You know I want you, but I have a job to do, and if we continue, you’ll just get in the way.”
“I’m in the way now, baby.” His lips took hers.
Sparks exploded in her blood, and her mind blanked. He worked her mouth, bending her back, forcing her sex against his hard cock. Demanding, even through the jeans, it jumped against her.
She couldn’t move. He held her right where he wanted her, their mouths fused, her legs spread, her butt on his hard thighs, her breasts flattened by his chest.
Yes, Yes, Yes. She kissed him back, her hands frantic on his flesh, her body alive.
Warning clanged in the back of her head, and she knew she was making a colossal mistake, but she didn’t care. Right now, in Daire’s arms, she just wanted more. Wanted to feel like a woman, alive and whole. He gave her that. Even so aroused she could barely think, she knew, deep down, that Daire gave her that sense of completeness.
He released her mouth so she could breathe and peppered hard kisses across her jaw and down her throat, tilting her down between his knees and toward the thick rug. She arched against him, the decadence of the position thrilling.
With the grace of any panther, while holding her aloft, he dropped to his knees and stretched them both out. The second his groin settled against hers, they both groaned.
He ripped her shirt over her head in one smooth motion, and then his mouth found her breasts. Nipping and suckling, licking and kissing, he hummed enjoyment as he made her writhe with need. Electricity charged from her nipples to her clit, whipping up a maelstrom of hunger she never could’ve imagined. “So much,” she gasped.
“Just wait.” Without missing a beat, he shoved off her yoga pants. Then, levering himself up on one elbow, he held his hand, palm down, over her breasts. Fire crackled.
She jumped.
He chuckled, the sound dark and aroused. “Don’t move.”
She sucked in air, her eyes widening.
Fire cascaded across his palm, dancing and threatening, primal in its beauty. He waited a beat, then another one, and finally lowered his hand.
The heat caressed across her, biting softly. The air whooshed out of her lungs, and she laughed.
He smiled. “You like fire.”
She loved fire. At the thought, she sobered.
“Nope. Stay with me.” He rolled off her, throwing his jeans aside with the movement, and then sat with his back to the couch. Grabbing her, he pulled her toward him.
Big. Huge. Way big. She couldn’t look away from his fully erect penis. “Um—”
Both of his hands at her hips lifted her, and her knees dropped to the sides of his thighs. “Take your time,” he ordered, sounding like he’d swallowed gravel. Sweat dotted his upper lip, and the muscles in his arms flexed as if he held himself back.
She pressed her hands against his rippling abdominal muscles and slowly lowered herself down. Several times she had to stop and breathe out, relax her body, in order to take all of him. Finally, her rear rested against his thighs. He filled her, and mini-explosions rocked rhythmically through her sex. “You’re big,” she said, and sighed.
He laughed and smoothed hair away from her face. “I like the sweet, honest side of you, Felicity.”
She tried not to wince. In less than an hour, he wasn’t going to like her at all.
His lips firmed. “Whatever you’re planning, don’t do it.”
It was too late. She caressed down his abs to his thighs and then tilted her butt and lifted up.
His sharp intake of breath spurred her on. So she did it again. Tension crackled around them. Every time she moved, he scraped against nerves inside her, sparking shards of raw pleasure to her clit. Although she wanted to go fast, wanted to reach that climax, torturing him held its own appeal. Having command over such a powerful being, such a deadly one, was better than any aphrodisiac.
Just how crazy could she drive him? It was their last time together, that was for sure. She cupped his hard jaw, enjoying the faint scratch of whiskers against her skin. His eyes glowed a fathomless green in the firelight, which slid over the hard planes of his face. With his black hair and full lips, there was no question as to his Irish heritage. So handsome. He kept her gaze, emotion bright in his, a warning glint not far off. “Felicity,” he said, rolling the sound of her name with his brogue.
A small voice in the back of her head told her to tell him how much the last few nights had meant to her. How much he already meant to her, and thank him for what he’d done. He’d reminded her of who she could be. But first, she had a job to do. So she kept silent and tried to memorize his face.
He was visibly struggling to control himself, and power flushed through her. She wiggled her butt and clenched her internal muscles.
Strong hands clamped on her hips. He lifted her and set her back down, starting a wild rhythm that ricocheted pleasure so far inside her, the sensation had to spiral out. She cried out, holding his arms, trusting him to get her there.
He stopped, fully embedded in her, his cock pulsing in time with her ragged breaths. She tried to move, gasping when he held her firm. “What?” she panted.
“Stay still.” One hand kept her in place while the other lifted, green sparks careening between his fingers.
She sucked in a breath. “Daire—”
He reached down and ran his palm and the fire over her nipples.
The sharp bite overloaded her senses. So damn good. Beyond good. Her internal muscles quivered. “Oh.”
“My name fits me,” he said, pinching a nipple.
She glanced down, her mind blank, her body clamoring. Fire crackled between his fingers, licking her flesh. So much power. “Name?”
“Daire,” he whispered, his hand caressing down her abdomen.
“No.” Her gaze flew up to his. “I, ah.” The look on his face, she’d never forget. Male. Intent. Possessive.
The fire crackled, and she jumped.
He chuckled, low and male. “I wouldna’ move, were I you.”
She stopped breathing, her body clamoring. The flame torched over her stomach, and she tried to back away, but he held her fast. His heated fingers separated her labia.
Her eyes widened, and she met his gaze, almost straining toward the flame.
Fire flicked her clit.
She exploded, throwing back her head, hissing his name. He shoved up inside her, moving her, pounding so hard she could do nothing but hold on and feel. The orgasm, if that’s what it was, consumed her, burning through her, taking every ounce of energy she possessed. The waves crashed endlessly, prolonged by the heat and his furious thrusting.
Finally, her body went lax, and she sighed in relief.
He manacled one of her shoulders, one of her hips, and held her in place for one final thrust. His body, all sleek power, shuddered as he came.
When he released her, she fell against him, kissing his salty jugular. He dropped his head to the vulnerable area where her neck met her shoulder and planted one soft kiss.
She sighed, her attention caught by the clock ticking on the mantel. “Oh God.” Her head lifted. “Daire, I—”
The door blew open and glass shattered. Flash grenades popped all
around them. Men in black filled the room.
Daire jumped up, shoving her behind him onto the sofa. He grunted as five tranquilizer darts were instantly shot into his chest. His hand shook as he reached back for her.
She scrambled away and yanked on the yoga clothes, stumbling a little from the grenades. Even though she’d known they were coming, she hadn’t had a chance to fully duck her head first.
He growled and reached for her, and two soldiers immediately turned and fired shots into his neck. He dropped back onto the couch, fury glinting in his eyes.
Oh man, this was so bad. Sure, she’d made certain the tranq was temporary and wouldn’t harm him in any way. Her hands trembled when she reached him. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Daire.”
Rage, the real kind, contorted his face right before he passed out. She grabbed an afghan off the end of the sofa and tossed it over him. There was going to be hell to pay. She just knew it.
Chapter 12
Daire rolled over and hit the floor with a hard clunk. Sparks lit across his rug. Smoke filled the penthouse and his phone buzzed from the table. An alarm should’ve gone out immediately upon breach, but Adam and Simone were out to dinner and Kellach was in Ireland.
Backup would take precious minutes.
He sucked in air, focusing on the tranq in his blood. ’Twas the same as the drug Felicity had first used to incapacitate him.
Big mistake.
His body would’ve created antibodies from the first dose, and he could actually feel the energy rippling through him as his blood negated the interloper. Closing his eyes, he focused more power into his cells, taking the energy of fire and burning away the drug.
Minutes later, he reached for his jeans and yanked them on.
Boot steps clamored up the stairs.
Adam and Simone rushed inside, green guns in hand. “Status!” Adam barked.
Daire shot a slightly numb hand through his hair. “We’re clear.”
Simone slowly tucked the gun into her waistband.
Daire growled. “A member of the Council of the Coven Nine does not double as an enforcer, even in case of emergency.”
Her dark eyes sparkled, and she tossed back curly brunette hair. “I’m here as your cousin, not as a pseudo-enforcer.” As a purebred witch, her voice was husky, low, and amused. For her dinner out, she’d donned dark jeans, designer boots, and a leather jacket that probably had cost more than his flat. She was a brilliant smartass, quite happy being a bitch, and made no apologies. Ever.