The Thief - Page 66/90

“I am not a good man,” he found himself whispering. “Not even close.”

“God sees what man does not,” Mrs. Carvalho murmured.

As the woman reached out her free hand, a clear beckoning to Marisol, it was a little while before the granddaughter answered the call of her elder. But then Marisol too was holding on, the pair of them united by the frail, fierce spirit on the bed.

In the thick silence that followed, Assail looked across at Marisol with dread. She was staring at her grandmother, her face sad and serious.

What the hell am I going to do now, he thought.

FORTY-SIX

Qhuinn barely got them all back to the Brotherhood’s mansion before dawn’s early, ass-kicking light rained down out of the sky. The second the brother hit the brakes on the mobile surgical unit, Vishous opened the side door and hopped out, reaching up to help his Jane. As she accepted his hand, even though she didn’t need it, it felt so good to aid her in some small way.

Shutting things, the three of them jogged over to the entrance and went into the vestibule. As soon as he put his face in the camera, the inner door opened, and Beth let them in.

“You guys just made it,” the Queen said. “We were worried. Come on in and eat.”

The other brothers who had been out at the clinic had dematerialized home, but V had wanted to be on backup for Qhuinn on the drive back. And he hadn’t minded the decompression time.

Some nights were longer than others.

And some were outright hell.

As Beth and Qhuinn headed off for the crowded dining room, V hung back. “You want to eat something?”

Jane looked through the elegant archway to the packed, fancy table and squared her shoulders. “Sure.”

When she started in that direction, he caught her hand and stared into her forest green eyes.

“Tell me what you really want to do. Be honest.”

“I’m exhausted.” She sagged. “But I’m afraid to tell you that because…well, I just don’t want you to think it’s going back to the way it was—”

Vishous swooped down and picked her up. “I’m taking you to the Pit. And I’m going to feed you soy packets and ketchup. And it’s going to be the best meal you’ve never had.”

She laughed. “You know, my MSG levels are running a little low.”

“Actually, I lied about the soy sauce. I’m going to call Fritz and have them walk some food over, ’kay?”

Jane relaxed in his arms, and he loved the loose feel of her body. “That sounds perfect. I love everybody, but I’m just…I can’t chitchat right now and I don’t want to be rude.”

“I gotchu, true?”

Feeling strong as a mountain with his female in his arms, V strode off through the majestic, multi-colored foyer to the hidden door underneath the grand staircase. As he took them down into the underground tunnel, his bonded male was front and fucking center—and that protective instinct and purpose was a grounding he hadn’t had for a very long time. His shitkickers literally landed differently on the concrete beneath his feet, and his brain was sharp in a way that made him feel like a laser.

I love this, he thought. So much it scares me.

But he could trust Jane. He knew that in his soul. She would never abuse this power she had over him—hell, she probably wasn’t even aware she had it.

“Why are you smiling?” she said softly.

He stopped as they arrived at the door to the Pit. “Do you know what is even more important to me than love?”

“What’s that?”

V shifted her around so he could look her in the face. “Trust is more important to me. And I realize…that you got my back.”

Jane reached up and stroked his face. Then she ran her fingertips over the symbols that had been tattoo’d into his temple.

“Trust,” she said, “is just another word for love.”

Her smile was so radiant that he had to kiss her. And at first, it was a communion kind of thing, a brush of mouths that was reverent and nonsexual.

That did not last. Before he knew what was happening, he was licking his way into her, dropping her to her feet, holding her against his hardening body.

His hands smoothed down her shoulders to her waist, her hips, her ass. And as he curled his greater height around her, his head started to spin.

“Jane…”

“Yes,” she whispered.

He was tempted to do it right where the hell they were, but he was worried that Fritz might come and check on them to get a food order. That poor doggen had seen a lot in his centuries of service, but a brother banging his mate in the brightly lit tunnel was pushing the bounds.

“Come on, let’s hurry,” V said. “I need to be inside you.”

They scrambled their way up the shallow steps, burst into the little hall, and started taking their clothes off before they hit their bedroom. With a sloppy kick, V shut the door behind them and then they were doing a whole lot of strip-kissing.

“I love you naked,” he gritted out against his mate’s mouth as they finally stood against each other with no barriers.

The whole vertical shit did not last. Next thing he knew—thank fuck—he was on top of Jane on the bed, and even though there were so many other things he wanted to do, so many places he wanted his mouth, his tongue, his hands, he really needed to be inside of her.

For a male who existed separately from everyone, even his brothers, he had to have this unity with his female, with Jane. She and she alone was the one who he could be both strong and vulnerable with, his brilliant, beautiful, full-of-compassion female.

She was right.

At the end of the day, absolute trust was the working definition of true love.

* * *

As Jane looked up at Vishous, she tilted her pelvis so he could go in deep and she braced herself for a wild onslaught of passion. Not this time. Instead of pounding into her—which she would have been totally fine with—V moved in a slow wave, his erection sliding in and out, the passion more like lighting a lovely candle instead of burning the house down.

And he stared at her the entire time, those diamond eyes, those wonderful, cynical, often chilly but never cruel, diamond eyes with their navy blue rims boring into her own.

For some reason, just before she began to climax, she found herself reaching up to his face once again.

“You’re going to be okay,” she heard herself say. “That shadow is not in you. You’re not that civilian, I promise you. That is not going to happen to you.”

Vishous froze, his eyes growing wide. “What?”

“It’s all right. Look at your arm. Go on.”

He blinked quick a number of times. And then instead of checking the wound, he said in a voice that cracked, “How did you know.”

“Why wouldn’t you wonder?” She shrugged. “How could you not? If I were you, that’s what would go through my mind. You were wounded in the same way that civilian was, just to a much lesser extent. I would be worried it might spread or something might be harbored inside of me, but that is not what’s going on.”

As he shifted and looked at his arm muscle, his stare narrowed. “It is getting better.”

“I agree. And even though we don’t know for sure, it is logical to assume that is a favorable sign. Also, you have been acting no different, and honestly, that civilian’s wounds were over half his body—more than half.”

V refocused on her eyes. “I want it gone. I don’t want that shit in my skin anymore.”

“Those shadows are so much more dangerous than we thought.”

“The fucking Omega has to go.”

“I agree.”

After a moment, he dropped his head and started to kiss her again, and she kissed him right back, giving him everything she had, trying to reassure him not just about his own injury, but the very future of the race. Which was maybe nuts. But sometimes that was all you could do—just pour your hope and love into your partner because they needed the support, even though it arguably wasn’t going to change or improve what was really going on.

With a luscious sigh, Jane arched into her release, the tide cresting in a quiet, profound way, the warmth, the tightening around his arousal, the sweet, sweet relief cleansing her, wiping out, at least for the time being, all the ugliness that she had seen tonight.