Redemption, p.5
Redemption, page 5
“What is it?”
“Where did you get these files?”
“From Clark. Why?”
“You’re certain these are his agents?”
“Yes. They took a little while to decrypt, but they’re accurate.”
Zola started to smile. Finally, finally something was going her way.
“Why are you so pleased?”
“Because you taught me so damned well. Games within games within games, right?”
Everyone was looking at her like she was crazy and then understanding crossed her mother’s face and she smiled. “Some of them are yours.”
“I need to access my Earth email accounts,” she told Britt.
“I need information first,” she countered.
Zola had expected that. She pulled up two files, side by side, and passed the tablet over.
“Raj Burns and Owen Smith. High level telepaths. Extensive war records. Been on Delroi for ten months.” Britt paused. “You were imprisoned then. You’re sure they can still be trusted?”
“Yeah. Keep reading.”
“No contact for six months. Believed dead. You think they’re in hiding somewhere? They could have found a way back to Earth.”
Zola nodded. “They could have, but I doubt it. They would have tried to break me out and Mother would have heard about that.”
“Okay. Use my tablet,” Britt said, handing it over.
This part was tricky. They had an anonymous account they’d used along with a couple others who were dead now, but she had no way of knowing if that line of communication was compromised or if Burns and Smith were still checking it. If they were on Delroi they had to be aware of her location though. She signed in and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw a message waiting. It was brief, just a comm number. At least one of them was still alive.
“I have a number,” she said softly.
“Zola,” her mother cautioned. “You have to be sure. These are Clark’s men.”
“No, they aren’t. They’re Zane’s.”
Her brother’s men, who’d infiltrated Clark’s organization to find her brother’s killer and take out the man who’d ordered it. So of the six remaining Tel agents on Delroi, two were allies. It was a huge relief. She retrieved her comm unit from her pocket and dialed. It beeped several times before an irritated voice answered. She’d recognize it anywhere.
“Hello, Raj,” she said, using his alias.
“Well, it’s about damned time,” he groused back. “Don’t you check your messages, woman?”
“I’m checking now. We need to meet.”
Jarek was suddenly in front of her, glaring. “I don’t think so, der’lan,” he snapped.
Raj laughed at her. “I see you’ve fallen victim to their madness.”
“Shut up,” she muttered. “I’ll call you back.”
She disconnected and stared at Jarek. He was furious, and jealous maybe? She wasn’t sure but she knew she couldn’t let it stop her.
“He might have information we need. And he’ll only give it to me. In person.”
“Not going to happen, baby.”
“You said you’d try to make this work. To accept me as I am.”
It hurt that he was completely ignoring that promise. He stared at her incredulously.
“You promised you wouldn’t blindly walk into danger,” he countered.
“This man is on a list of Tel agents. They’ve already tried to kill you once,” he snapped, his voice rising as they switched to verbal communication.
“And we handled it.”
His eyes narrowed. “Now is not a good time to remind me of that attack, Zola,” he said softly but his voice was oh so dangerous.
She knew it was supposed to scare her, put her in her neatly defined der’lan place. It had the opposite effect, though. It turned her on and made her want to dance in the fire. He knew it too. His eyes darkened, grew hooded.
“I forbid this,” he said. She stared at him. That was practically a dare. One she couldn’t let slide. The room had grown quiet. She could feel everyone holding their breath, wondering how she’d react.
“Careful, daughter,” Anna Leigh whispered in her mind.
“You’re right. They did try to kill me,” she said, but she finished the rest mentally. She knew she was walking a fine line here, knew spoken aloud her next words skated too close to humiliation for a Delroi warrior and she wouldn’t do that to him. “That makes it temple business, and der’lan or not, you cannot interfere with the goddess cult.”
He shut down completely and she felt a pang of regret. She’d probably just ruined any chance they may have had. But she couldn’t be the woman he seemed to want, and she refused to ignore the danger the remaining Tel members posed to everyone.
No one else heard the rest of her statement but it was clear they all knew something was wrong. She met her mother’s gaze. At least if she saw recrimination there, she was used to it.
“Are you okay? You can stay here with us.”
She took a deep breath. Actually considered it. Minutes ago she would have refused. Now she wondered if she’d need someplace to retreat too after the celebration, once it was all over.
“No. I have to see this through. It will end soon enough, at the Keep.”
“After that, if you need a place to go, you’ll always be welcome with us.”
She looked at Jarek. He was watching her like he didn’t know her. Like she was some confusing, exotic specimen under his microscope.
“Thank you for the offer. I’ll let you know.”
She felt a rift growing between her and Jarek, but had no idea how to fix it. She didn’t know how to make him see her. How to make him understand she had to do this. She resisted the urge to reach out and touch his mind, touch his hand. He’d drawn into himself and she figured he wouldn’t welcome it. Maybe he’d finally realized how bad a match she made him. What a fucking depressing thought.
*
They returned to the Keep earlier than expected. Zola ignored him on the flight, which was fine with him. He was furious at her refusal to obey him. At her insistence on endangering herself. And to throw the goddess cult in his face? That was damned near unforgiveable. But whether she liked it or not, she was his. He wouldn’t let her go. He just needed to get control of his anger, make a plan to convince her he was right, which wasn’t happening anytime in the next couple of hours. So he didn’t protest when they landed and she went off on her own without any explanation. She was probably heading to the temple. That should have left him alone to think but Roarr and Kaje were having none of that.
“What the hell happened at the stronghold?” Roarr demanded.
Fuck no. He was not discussing his problems with his mate with his brother. “Nothing you need to worry about.”
Kaje stared at him, but it was Roarr that answered. “It concerns Tel so it concerns me.”
He snorted. “According to Zola it concerns the cult, not us.”
Roarr stared at him and Kaje actually chuckled. “Damn, you’re an idiot, aren’t you?”
Jarek just glared at them.
“I don’t like it any more than you do,” Kaje said. “But they aren’t Delroi. Force her to live by our rules and you’ll lose her. Xan was damned close to refusing to let her leave with us. I think the only reason she did is because she thinks Tel and the rebels will attack here in a few days.”
Kaje’s warning made him go cold, and there was no doubt in his mind it was a warning. He struggled to contain his panic. Surely she wouldn’t do something drastic.
“What makes you say that? Did she say something to Parker?”
Kaje gave him a look that made him feel like an asshole. “Did you see her face? When you forbade her to get involved?”
Of course. He’d been standing right there, but he’d refused to acknowledge the emotion he’d seen in her eyes. Betrayal. Pain. Fuck. He’d screwed up bad and he knew it. He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Shit,” he muttered.
Roarr clapped him in the shoulder. “Fix this, brother. While you still have time to grovel.”
With that, they left and he’d never been so alone. He pulled his comm unit out but she didn’t answer so he sent a message instead. He kept it simple. I’m sorry. We need to talk. He wasn’t surprised when he didn’t get an immediate response. He fully expected her to make him sweat. Hell, he definitely deserved it. He headed into the Keep to the warrior compound. Normally, he’d go to the infirmary but with so many visitors in the Keep he decided to catch up with old friends.
He’d seen one’s name, Tallus, on the list of guests the Overchief had provided and Jarek wasn’t surprised to find him in a large crowd of Keep warriors near the cantina. He was a native of the Keep and though he’d been gone decades, serving as Daggar’s chief healer, this was home. He hadn’t changed much. He was still built like a warrior, the only concession to the years passed a few gray hairs and new lines around his eyes. He looked up when Jarek approached and grinned.
“I was hoping to get a look at your der’lan, Jarek. Where is she?”
Great. Reminded of his failure right off the bat.
“She’s at the temple. I’m sure you’ll meet her later.”
Unless she continued to avoid him. No, he’d go searching for her if she didn’t show up for dinner that evening. They were entertaining the Torfas and Traces in the family wing. She needed to be there for that. He sent her another message, reminding her. And again wasn’t surprised when he got no response.
He spent the next couple of hours catching up with Tallus. When it was time they walked over to the chief’s wing and the large dining area being used for the evening. Several warriors and their women milled around, including his mother, sister, Parker and Kareena, but he didn’t see Zola. He was getting angry, had decided to go find her when she walked in. Her gaze went straight to him and he willed her to approach. He had to find a way to make this right. To apologize. To accept her as she deserved. A frown marred her brow and she surprised him by making her way through the crowd to him.
“She’s beautiful,” Tallus said softly at his side. “If I had a woman like that I’d never let her out of my sight.”
“She’d gut you for your trouble.”
Instead of being warned off, Tallus grinned. “Earthling women. Never boring.”
He was surprised at his friend’s assessment. Delroi warriors were overprotective and possessive, and Southern warriors tended to be the worst of the lot. Tallus looked like he was facing a challenge and looking forward to it.
“What’s her name?” Jarek asked.
His smile changed, softened and Jarek followed his gaze to see a young woman who stood close to Sergei Trace. Jarek hadn’t met her yet but she could only be Sergei’s twin sister, Angelia. She looked fragile and innocent, but Jarek doubted that was the case. He didn’t know much about her other than she’d been a Tel prisoner for years. To survive that she had to have a will of iron.
“Good luck, old friend,” he murmured as Zola finally drew close.
She hesitated as if unsure of her welcome and he held his hand out. Her fingers brushed his, tentative and questioning. Damn, he was a bastard. He gripped her hand and pulled her closer, bending to whisper in her ear.
“I was an ass. Forgive me.”
He straightened to meet her gaze and she searched his eyes before nodding once. “Okay.”
He exhaled a sigh of relief. They had a lot to work through but it was a start. He’d like to do that right away, but unfortunately duty called. He introduced her to Tallus then they began to work their way around the room. He was surprised to find she’d met most of the women, but he shouldn’t have been. When she stepped away for a private word with Britt it took all his restraint not to follow. He knew they were talking about that Tel agent, but she stood with her back to him and no matter how much he wished it, she didn’t turn so he could watch her face. She was subdued when she returned to him. He wanted to know why, to hear what Britt had shared, but not here.
Hours passed, and finally they were alone in their quarters. Neither of them had had any gazzi at the reception and she looked like she could use a drink just as much as he could.
“I’m going to change,” she said.
He heard the wariness in her voice and knew it was his fault. She expected an argument. That was the last thing he wanted.
“I’ll pour us a glass of gazzi and meet you on the balcony.”
“Okay.”
She agreed readily enough but she was still withdrawn. It bothered him, stirred his anger. He’d messed up at the stronghold, he admitted that, but here in these rooms he wouldn’t tolerate the emotional distance she was trying to put between them. She’d have to face that in a few minutes and he gave her time to shore up her defenses, though she had to know he’d just break them down.
He removed his weapon’s belt and boots, poured two glasses and walked outside to the wide lounger. He set the drinks on the table and leaned over the railing, waiting for her. It was a typical summer night in the Keep. Warm and breezy, and both moons hung low over the ocean. He sensed more than heard her approach. She paused a moment then joined him at the railing, taking a sip from her glass. He wanted to talk to her, to explain or try to, but when he looked down all thought fled. She was wearing the maroon robe and if he guessed right, nothing underneath it. He wasn’t sure if he should be seduced or suspicious. Before he could decide, she sighed, went to the lounger and sat on the side. He couldn’t interpret the look she gave him.
“I talked to Raj. He’ll be in the city tomorrow and I need to speak to him.”
He bit back his first response, which was hell no. He’d already made that mistake once.
“I’ll go with you.” She opened her mouth, to protest no doubt, and he shook his head. “I know that you have to do this, baby, but I can’t let you do it alone.”
“Britt is going with me and I’m sure Barak will be around somewhere.”
“That’s fine, but it doesn’t change anything. I will be there. I’ll stay in the background.”
She made an exasperated sigh but seemed to relax and he knew, though it might kill him, he was doing the right thing. She shifted and the robe parted enough to expose a few tempting inches of leg. His mate. He was instantly hard, throbbing. He wanted—needed—to show her who she belonged to. Needed to imprint himself on her so thoroughly she never doubted his resolve again. Primitive instincts took over and he let them. He yanked his shirt over his head and reached for the button on his pants as her eyes widened. She bit her bottom lip, watching as he stepped out of the rest of his clothes and approached.
She scooted to the edge of her seat and reached for his cock when he stopped in front of her. Her fingers were light and soft as they explored him, stroking up and down the length, pausing to brush her thumb over the drop of pre-cum on the slit. Then she leaned forward and closed her lips over the head. Her fingers circled his shaft and tightened. He couldn’t help an involuntary jerk forward and she hummed as he stroked into her wet heat. Gods, that was hot. Sultry. She slid off the lounger to her knees. She was such a vision—eyes wide and lustful when she looked up at him, hair tumbling down her back—that his body warred between coming right then and there or fucking her mouth long and hard. And then she opened her mind to him.
“This isn’t normally my thing. I might need instruction.”
Her voice was a soft, shy whisper in his mind and he knew it wasn’t the blow job she was talking about. It was the submission. Groaning, he wrapped his hands in her hair and thrust forward a few times experimentally. Shallowly. She sucked him on each withdrawal. Swirled her tongue around his cockhead just before he thrust back in. He felt the faintest hint of teeth on the underside of his cock and almost came right then. He tightened his grip on her hair.
“No teeth, baby,” he ordered.
“Okay.”
The bridge between their minds was still open so he didn’t have to use his abilities to feel her desire. Her need.
“Take the robe off,” he said as he took another leisurely stroke between her lips, going a little deeper this time.
Her eyes widened but she complied, slipped it down her arms and dropped it on the floor behind her. His view was unobstructed now. The pretty jewels he’d replaced her piercings with the night before dangled with each move of his hips. He reached for one and tugged. She groaned. One hand still wrapped around the base of his cock, the other moving to grip his thigh. Her eyes stayed on his and grew hazy. Damn, she was beautiful.
“Spread your pussy lips, sweetheart. I want to see your sweet little clit. I want to see your juices slipping down the inside of your thigh as I fuck your mouth. When you swallow my come.”
She swallowed hard, massaging his cock and damn near making him come right away. He tugged on the other piercing. “Enough of that. Do what I told you to.”
As he watched, her hand slid from his thigh to between her legs where she did exactly as he asked. He was pleased to see her already glistening.
“Fingers on your clit, baby.”
He watched her struggle with the order. She couldn’t hold herself open to him and play with herself with just one hand. She reached the only logical conclusion and released his cock to comply. When her fingertips brushed her clitoris, she shivered. He renewed his shallow thrusts between her lips, watching as she worked herself up.
“Come whenever you want, baby. As often as you want.”
He waited until he felt her agreement in his mind and stayed fully merged with her so he’d know if he scared her. That was the last thing he wanted. He felt her desire rising and she worked herself harder and harder. His next stroke hit the back of her throat and he waited for a protest, was relieved when he didn’t feel one. He let go. Fucked her mouth the way he’d dreamed off. Fast and deep and wild. He felt her with him every step of the way. Felt her first orgasm break over her, then the second. The third was just building when he felt the familiar tingling at the base of his spine. He thrust as deep as he could without hurting her, holding himself inside her mouth as his climax overcame him and his come spilled down her throat.
