Rocked by Love (Gargoyles, #4)(59)
Dag grunted his approval and leaned forward, draping his chest over her and pressing their bodies together, drowning her in the slick feel of his skin, and his hot, earthy scent. The intimacy only drove her higher, and when he scraped his teeth over her shoulder, she shuddered and clenched around him.
“Give me your pleasure,” he demanded, grasping her hip with one hand and sliding the other beneath her to press against the tight bundle of nerves he had already spent so much time tormenting. “Come,” he said, tapping her clit with firm, deliberate pressure. “I want to feel you around me, little human. Now.”
God, she wanted it, too. She reached for the climax, feeling it shimmer on the horizon. Then she felt his teeth close over the nape of her neck, digging in and holding her in place like an animal with its mate, and she lost it.
Everything went up in flames. Her body burned from the inside out, the orgasm like a wall of flames racing from the place where they joined through every inch of skin and muscle she possessed. She felt his hips bucking against her as he emptied himself inside her and wondered if he burned as well. Her arms and legs gave out, no longer able to support her, and she collapsed onto the mattress with a living blanket pressing her into the soft surface.
At least this time there was a sheet, she thought drowsily. As a couple, maybe they were making real progress. It was her last thought before sleep took her, but it took her smiling.
Chapter Thirteen
Az men hot a sakh tsu ton, leygt men zikh shlofn.
When you have a lot to do, go to sleep.
Kylie entered the fray with renewed energy and determination. After about twelve hours of recuperative sleep. Ridiculously hot sex could apparently take a lot out of a girl.
She had no illusions about a miraculous solution to her issues. She wasn’t na?ve enough to think one conversation, one self-administered slap upside the head, and one night of whew-boy-howdy sex meant that she and Dag were now on the straight path to happily ever after. She did, however, think that a more rational way to deal with this relationship, as with any relationship, was to take things as they came and to let it evolve into its own thing.
Besides, she had other stuff to worry about. That end-of-the-world nonsense just didn’t seem to be going away on its own.
Her bagels, however, were disappearing at an alarming rate. Apparently, gargoyles as a species got a real charge out of boiled and baked rounds of dough.
Everyone had gathered in the office, naturally, with bagels and coffee or tea (or soda) in hand to answer the day’s burning question. Where the heck did they start?
“Okay, say I’m a psycho-killer Demon worshipper,” Kylie threw out, bouncing lightly on her balance ball. “I want to make a big splash and raise a whole bunch of power in one fell swoop so I can feed it to my evil overlords. How am I going to do that?”
Wynn grimaced over her mug of tea. She perched on the arm of King David’s chair, which was currently occupied. Not by the cat, but by her bagel-munching mate. “I’d like to say you’re not, but then we wouldn’t be here worrying about it.”
Knox licked a schmear of cream cheese off his thumb. “Efficiency demands the nocturnis gather a crowd of humans together in one place. Once they strike, even if they are able to disguise the truth as some sort of natural disaster or terrorist action, the human authorities will descend and cut off their opportunity for another attempt. It must be all at once and quickly abandoned.”
“Oh, crap.” Kylie felt a quick clutch of fear. “What about Patriot’s Day? It’s coming up in just a couple of weeks, and there’s the history there with the bombing.”
Dag frowned. “What is Patriot’s Day?”
“It’s a state holiday here in Massachusetts to commemorate the American Revolution. It’s the anniversary of the first battles of the war on April 19, 1775. The third Monday of April every year is the observance. There are historical reenactments, schools are out, and that’s the day they run the marathon.”
“With the bombing,” Wynn said, her eyes widening. When the Guardians continued to look confused, she clarified. “The Boston Marathon. It’s an annual road race through the city. From what I understand, there are tens of thousands of runners entered, and several times that many spectators. A few years ago, a couple of terrorists set bombs near the finish line. Three people died and a couple hundred were injured.”
“That is not the kind of death toll the Order will be seeking, not if they wish to raise enough power to summon the Unclean one, as well as to return the Defiler to full strength.” Knox shook his head. “It is a brutal fact, but a fact. They will require dozens, or more likely, hundreds of deaths for that kind of black magic.”
Now that she heard the facts, Kylie’s stomach unclenched, and she nodded reluctantly. “You’re right. Achieving that at an event like the marathon would be a massive undertaking. The route actually goes through like eight different towns. The runners will be scattered all over the course, and spectators are spread out all along it as well. It seems inefficient to try to strike in a place that will not get the results they want. Their best bet would be the finish line area, but the security there since the bombing is insane. I’m guessing the nocturnis are too, but that seems like banging their heads against a brick wall.”
Dag grunted. “Agreed. We must consider other possibilities.”