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  In one lithe move, she slipped from his grasp, closed her legs, and balled herself up tightly at the top of the bed, panting. When she opened her eyes, his golden stare hunted her. He said nothing, just slowly wiped the slickness from his mouth with the back of his hand, breathing her in. It was such a sensual act that it sent a tremor of renewed heat through her. She watched his nostrils flare, watched the slow blink of his eyes, and then she quietly uncurled herself and moved onto her hands and knees before him.

  “I wanted this to be different for you,” he said in a deep murmur, then closed his eyes and turned his face away. “Special. not here but in a beautiful suite. after a ceremony that would honor both you and your parents.”

  “I am with you and that makes it special. I am yours alone, and that makes it beautiful. That you risked your life for me not long ago is the greatest honor you could have given me and my parents.”

  She saw his breath hitch and something feral within her snapped. Seconds stretched as she lunged forward, pounced, and flipped him onto his back. It was his turn to have his throat in her jaws while she hurriedly ripped away the heavy fabric of his pants and spent buttons. He didn’t struggle, simply breathed, waiting for her to pull back and release his windpipe. She looked down at him, knowing half of his legs were still trapped by his pants. A single tear slid down his cheek. Her hand went over his heart and it felt like it was beating a path out of his chest. He bit his lower lip as he stared into her eyes. She understood agony. He’d just taught her the definition.

  Straddling him slowly, she felt for his member, not taking her eyes away from his. Vein-corded heat filled her hand; his gasp as she touched him made her briefly close her eyes. By blind touch she studied the pattern of what would soon enter her. Each palm stroke along his wet, need-slicked length helped her memorize it, stopped his breath, and caused her opening to contract. Her fingers slid over the groove of the bulbous head, and she wondered how the two organs would fit, the disparity was so great, but desire won out.

  Instinct told her she needed his girth to staunch the ache. Lowering herself down, she fit him against the entrance of her flower and then took a deep breath.

  He quickly held her arms. “Not all at once,” he said, breathing hard. “You’ll tear and I’ll lose control like that.. There’s another way. You must let me guide you and move slowly.”

  “You’ll lose control?” she murmured in a husky whisper.

  He nodded, trying to shift her off him to change positions, but she shook her head and let him know just how strong she really was.

  “Then lose control, Husband,” she said quietly, staring at him, and suddenly sat down hard to fully take him in.

  His wail of pleasure drowned out her wail of pain. He arched hard as though an electric current had shot through his body, and she moved against him with frenzied purpose. In a hard roll they were on the floor. In seconds he’d kicked out of his pants and pulled her beneath him. Her hair was in his fist and his kiss swallowed her cries. Her punches against his sides and back to get him to stop thrusting slowly converted to a grasping hold as her legs anchored around his waist.

  Pleasure melted away pain. The burning at her rim quieted as the deep ache within her canal ripened, then blossomed on her throaty moan. His hand slid beneath her waist and his angle shifted. Her eyes crossed beneath her lids as he found a sweet spot deep within her.

  Tearing his mouth from hers, his head dropped back as she scored his chest. Her hands sought his hair, her mouth hungering for his, chasing the sensation, chasing the thunderous orgasm unfurling within them.. Then it roared to life on a spontaneous convulsion, one vertebra-cracking explosion that left them both a crumpled heap on the floor.

  She couldn’t open her eyes as pleasure tore through her. The only thing that grounded her was wrapping her fists in his long, silken black hair.

  “Are you all right?” he rasped, cradling her body away from the damp dungeon stones.

  She simply nodded. “No other women. I am Were and I am your wife.”

  “No other women,” he whispered, burying his wet face against her neck. “The ancestors have answered my prayers.”

  Garth stopped at a stone door that was ajar, put a finger to his lips, and slipped beyond it. Sasha, Hunter, and Silver Hawk followed quickly, entering the dark cavern relying on night vision that the elderly Gnome apparently didn’t need. It was clear by the quickness of his steps that Garth knew every nook and crevice of the tunnel by heart. Things skittered; beetles and slimy things took cover at the invasion. But the group of three kept pace behind Garth until he cleared away a large stone by the wave of his wand and then moved back a hang of bramble with his arm.

  “Does your human contraption work here, milady?” Garth asked, looking at Sasha. “We are outside the magic barriers. This section of the fortress is merely the craft of camouflage.”

  “Contraption? You mean my cell phone?”

  “Yes, that thing that allows you to talk to your human soldiers.”

  Sasha pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. Within seconds it began vibrating. She gave Hunter and Silver Hawk a glance, and then returned her focus to Garth.

  “I’m assuming you know what this is all about?”

  Garth nodded. “Our reinforcements are coming in from across the waters—riding Dragons. Your humans will be at risk if they try to fly their planes and use weapons against them. Our home allies ’ave combined their magic and come through the Fae Stonehenge portals. The human soldiers may not understand and it could cost them their lives; more important, it could tip off the Vampires.”

  “Oh, shit!” Sasha looked at her BlackBerry. Colonel Madison had left a series of urgent messages that were blocked while she was inside the magic barriers of the castle. Walking in a circle, Sasha connected to the return call. He didn’t even wait to hear her voice.

  “Trudeau, where the hell have you been?”

  Sasha held the phone away from her ear. “Long story, sir, but your radar may show—”

  “Something insane coming in hot over Lake Pontchartrain!”

  “Aye, it would make sense that the Scots would lead by invoking the lake power of Loch Ness,” Garth said, quietly conferring with Silver Hawk.

  “What? Who are you talking to?” Colonel Madison yelled.

  “Friendlies who are aware of the situation, sir. I’m on my way.” Sasha looked at their pack shaman. “Silver Hawk, can you stay here at the sidhe with Garth while Hunter and I head to NAS? We need you both to try to make contact with the Dragon squads to ask for tolerance while we negotiate with the Air Force to try to get them to stand down.”

  She and Hunter didn’t wait for the old men to nod. They were in and out of a shadow, and in the war room with Colonel Madison, stepping out of a darkened corner so quickly that they almost got shot.

  “Jesus H. Christ, Trudeau—I still can’t get used to seeing you two do that.” Colonel Madison motioned for the men in the room to stand down.

  “The radar is going nuts, sir,” a radar engineer said as Sasha neared his screens. “I think these guys are jamming. I set up one-minute tells and initially there was just a huge blob of fast-moving activity, then it looked like it exploded into all these smaller blips headed for New Orleans.”

  “We’ve scrambled jets—”

  “No, no, no,” Sasha said quickly. “Call them back!”

  “That blob,” Hunter said, pointing to the screen, “is where a full European Dragon-rider Fae strike force is coming in from Scotland, England, probably the Netherlands, Ireland, wherever the Seelie strongholds are.”

  “The Joint Chiefs will need an explanation.” Colonel Madison’s attention ricocheted between Sasha, Hunter, and the radar screens. “I’m in command of the Paranormal Containment Unit, but the commander of NAS is responsible for anything unauthorized coming into our airspace.”

  “Then get that commander on the phone and tell him that not only will his men be in peril if they don’t stand down, but it’s also
likely that a couple of billion dollars of aviation equipment could get fried out of the sky if they don’t heed your advice.” Sasha turned back to the screen, watching fighter jets close in on the scattered targets.

  “Get me Commander Davis on the line,” Colonel Madison barked to his men. As soon as the line connected, he wasted no time with formalities, filling in his Air Force colleague quickly.

  “We had to scramble F-16s, Madison, until we had a confirm that this was supernatural and not a foreign hostile,” Commander Davis argued. “But Dragons, are you shittin’ me?”

  “Roger that. Get your men out of the air.”

  “But if Dragons are headed toward New Orleans, our job is to protect the U.S. from any—”

  “Get your men out of the sky, man!” Colonel Madison yelled, and then put Commander Davis on speakerphone.

  “Tell your men to open a channel,” Sasha said, walking around the table. “By now they ought to have a visual. They are gonna be freaked out and will need you to talk them down and give the order to come back to base.”

  “Who’s speaking?”

  “Captain Sasha Trudeau,” Sasha said, without thinking, and then amended her title. “Recently retired, and on retainer with the PCU under Colonel Madison—special project of the POTUS and the Joint Chiefs.”

  The room was silent as a disgruntled noise filtered through the speakerphone.

  “Open a channel,” Commander Davis finally said to his men. “I want them to rendezvous back to base. Tell them to fall back.”

  But as soon as the channel opened, the frenzied voices of men in the air filled the speaker:

  “There’s fire everywhere! I’ve never seen anything like it, sir!”

  “Something’s got my plane from beneath! I’m in a hard roll and can’t shake it, can’t eject—there’s something on top of my bird, sir. I’m going down!”

  “I’ve got a visual, but I can’t fucking believe what I’m seeing, sir!”

  “Tell them not to fire! Pull back!” Sasha shouted. “Tell them to stop pursuit!”

  Sasha and Hunter stared at the screens. The fighter jets were inside what looked like an asteroid belt of fast-moving screen blips.

  Gun reports from aircraft-mounted machine guns and explosions filled the speaker as men’s screams made Sasha close her eyes.

  “Call them back,” she said firmly, and then leaned into the speaker. “This is not our war, call those men back.”

  “What do you mean, this isn’t our war!” Commander Davis shouted. “I’ve just lost two pilots and—”

  “Then save ten more and call them back!” Colonel Madison yelled. “If it is paranormal, and it is, I have the authority!”

  “Fall back,” Colonel Davis grudgingly said after a moment. “Head back to base.”

  No one spoke as they listened to the retreat. Sasha prayed that it wouldn’t be too late. Once a Dragon squadron sensed an attack, they’d go after the offenders until the last Dragon was in the air. But the eerie quiet and then hearing the base protocols to land planes finally made her release her breath. Obviously the Dragons had bigger fish to fry.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” Hunter said to Sasha, and then looked at Colonel Madison.

  Colonel Madison kicked over an empty chair. “A damned waste. It didn’t have to happen.” He turned toward the speaker and yelled, “It didn’t have to happen!”

  CHAPTER 14

  Damage control was already under way as Sasha and Hunter walked down the long corridor to her team’s temporary offices. The media spin would be that two fighter pilots crashed when they collided during a night training mission—hence all the fire and explosions. The ammo wasn’t supposed to be live; some poor grunt made a mistake. Sasha raked her fingers through her hair. When was it going to end?

  Hunter held her elbow just as they got to the door. “It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t their fault. It was tragic—no more, no less.”

  She nodded, glad to be able to look into his intense brown eyes. There was a level of calm there that she required now. A steadiness that she couldn’t wrap words around but that mattered very deeply.

  “Thank you,” she said in a quiet voice, still numb from watching two human beings die for no good reason. She stroked Hunter’s cheek with her knuckles. “There was a time when it was all so simple. A Dragon terrorized a village for a bit, and then some hero came along and slayed it. A demon-infected Werewolf might ravage a country town, until the locals got up enough nerve to go hunt it down with pitchforks and torches, and behead it.” She smiled, loving the way she’d coaxed a smile out of hiding on his somber face. “Then there was always that one really over-the-top Vampire viceroy, who got staked in broad daylight after the locals got tired of him bleeding out their daughters. What happened to simple, Hunter?”

  “Technology killed it,” he said, giving her a hug. “Seems like everything is moving faster. problems are bigger. Before, one brave knight could solve it all and go down in history for a century or two until the next monster reared its ugly head.”

  “You’re making fun of me.” She kissed his neck quickly and then pulled back.

  He nodded and smiled. “Yes. I am. It was never as simple as was recorded in legend.”

  “I know.” As her smile faded she touched his cheek again and reached for the door.

  “But I wish it was, Sasha.” He held her arm. “For you. I so wish it was.”

  “For you, too,” she whispered, and then turned back to the door and opened it. There was no time to preserve their private moment.

  Her team members were on their feet the second they saw her enter the lab.

  “Good to see you, Cap. To say it’s been a madhouse around here is an understatement.” Winters shook his head and looked up from the screens. “Good to see you, too, Hunter. But, seriously, I think we lost a coupla jets, even though I can’t confirm it. They got all need-to-know-basis on me and wouldn’t let any of us into the situation room without you.”

  “Do you know what’s going on?” Woods asked, pacing between Winters’s computers and Clarissa’s medical testing equipment.

  “You know we’re locked and loaded, but who can fight what we can’t see—especially if the brass is keeping us in the dark, ya know?” Fisher pounded Woods’s fist as he passed him.

  “There have been some awful losses,” Clarissa said, hugging herself. “I can feel it.”

  “Was it the Erinyes?” Bradley asked, his worried gaze falling on Sasha and Hunter and remaining there.

  “Okay, okay, people, here’s what’s up,” Sasha said, moving to the center of the room. “The Seelie are really pissed at having lost sixty innocent members of their community to an outright butchering by the Vampires. So they sent in for reinforcements from Europe. Real cowboys—the Dragon-riding kind.”

  “Holy molie,” Winters said, slapping his forehead.

  “Are you serious?” Woods just stared at Sasha for a moment and then shook his head. “Don’t answer that.”

  “I wish I wasn’t.” Sasha gave Hunter a sidelong glance. “The Fae opened up some kind of magick transport portal or whatever over Lake Pontchartrain tonight to bring their guys in before dawn.”

  “Needless to say, it’s going to get hectic come the dawn.” Hunter glanced around the room. “There will be blood. The two pilots that went down tonight foolishly fired on a Dragon squadron that was in the air. That squadron took the action as an invitation to war. Probably the only reason the rest of the pilots weren’t wiped out was because Sasha had the foresight to know how the Air Force would respond and asked Garth and Silver Hawk to try to open a channel of telepathic communication with the Seelie.”

  “Is the government aware of the fact that World War Three is about to happen over the residential district of New Orleans tomorrow morning?” Bradley wiped his palms down his face.

  “Just sayin’. ” Winters looked around the group. “Because if they came in over the lake, and are hunting highfalutin’ Vampires, they won’t fi
nd them in the graveyards anymore. Just a hunch.”

  “Right,” Sasha said in a weary tone. “After losing top viceroys, other VIP Vamps have most likely gone underground beneath their mansions.”

  “Then there’s the clubs,” Winters said, ticking off possibilities on his fingers. “The casinos. Any Vampire holdings in the region.”

  “Which means if the Fae destroy Vamp establishments, or any fronts that also cater to humans, they will go after the Finnegan’s Wake bar, The Fair Lady, Dugan’s Bed and Breakfast, the list is endless.” Bradley’s eyes were wide behind his horn-rimmed glasses. “This could get insane.”

  “Correct,” Sasha said. “Which is why we have to find out what the Erinyes connection is and try to prove to the Vamps that this wasn’t the Fae. Problem is, at this juncture, the Fae are poised for retaliation.”

  “We could do a séance and call one of them up,” Bradley hedged, and then looked around the group.

  “Dude, are you nuts?” Winters was out of his chair and had bolted across the room. “Call up a demon? Be serious!”

  “It can be done,” Bradley said with more resolve. “Then you send it back.”

  “And do what?’ Winters dragged his fingers through his hair. “Ask it why it’s pissed off?”

  “Precisely,” Bradley replied. “It’s a last-ditch effort, and we’re definitely running out of time.”

  “Okay, let’s keep that as an ace in the hole, Brads,” Sasha said in a skeptical tone. “Because from what I heard about demons, when you bring one up and get it to do something, you seriously owe it—and generally it wants a human sacrifice.”

  “Right. ,” Clarissa said slowly. “But wasn’t that part of the deal that got very messy with the Vamps?”

  The room became still as all eyes focused on Clarissa.

  “Baron Geoff Montague made a deal with Queen Cerridwen’s court member Kiagehul,” Sasha said slowly. “That Vampire rat bastard Montague cut a deal with a turncoat Unseelie, Kiagehul. who used Lady Jung Suk—a Were Leopard—to do their dirty work.”