Dead After Dark (Companion #6.5)(91)
His mouth stoked the simmering heat she’d thought never to feel blaze up again, until now. She wanted this man, craved him like a drug. Long fingers of one hand drove up into her hair, holding her as if he thought she’d stop. No way. She wanted him here, now, anywhere. His mouth demanded more, caressing her tongue with his. He reached up, grazing a finger across her hard nipples through the sheer material.
Her thighs tightened in reaction, damp and ready for him.
Why had she never felt this way about another man?
His hand cupped her bottom and raised her up. In a move as natural as breathing, Sasha’s legs wrapped around his waist, wishing she could unzip him so he could drive inside her.
Trey growled with the contact as though he couldn’t believe what they were doing. She locked her legs tighter and rubbed against the thick bulge from his hard shaft.
She smiled, happier than she’d been in forever. “Trey, I want—” A force jerked her backward.
Her muddled mind fought past the sensuous fog. What the dev il was happening? Another yank broke the kiss.
“Something’s got me,” she blurted out. Her eyes met Trey’s. The fury rocking through his gaze took her breath.
He lunged for her and wrapped an arm around her waist, drawing her back to his chest in an iron grip. Feet planted wide, Trey shoved his other arm up, palm out.
Wind lashed the park, tearing at her hair. Sasha followed Trey’s gaze to see what he stared at with murder in his eyes.
Standing high above them on one end of the Park Drive Bridge overpass was the silhouetted shape of a man. Red lightning bolts sparked everywhere, highlighting the trees towering above each side of him and outlining his body, which was well over six and a half feet tall.
This guy was larger than Trey and just as deadly looking. His shoulder-length hair and long jacket whipped back and forth in the rogue wind that had come out of nowhere. The rest of his body remained rigid as a statue, one arm extended with a rock that glowed with multicolors in his open palm.
That couldn’t be Ekkbar. Trey’s description of the spindly magician had matched Rowan’s from her dreams.
The crazy guy held the stone high and called out, “She is mine, Belador. Owed for a blood debt.”
A stronger force wrenched her body hard. She shrieked and clutched Trey, terrified of losing her grip. How was he holding them back against a magician’s power? Trey’s massive build vibrated with strain.
With no time to question what was going on, Sasha searched for a way to help. Birds fluttered between the trees on each side of their attacker, back lit by the red aura. Sasha concentrated and started chanting, “Hearken elements, thy power I seek . . .” Her voice blurred with the loud roar of the wind.
A sharp crack rent the air. Then another.
She stared in horror as two trees crashed down, barely missing the strange guy.
The magnetic pull disengaged.
“Hold on.” Trey yanked her tight then raced away.
Sasha clung to him, her heart banging her ribs. She opened her eyes to see if the lunatic was pursuing them, but no human could have followed at the speed Trey was traveling. Before she took three breaths, he’d shoved her inside the Bronco, cranked the engine, and tore away from the parking spot.
Sasha didn’t loosen her death grip on the door until they’d passed the Carter Center, shocked as she studied the profile of a man she’d thought she knew at one time. But the feral look in his eyes tonight was one as foreign to her as watching him battle an unworldly being.
“Um, Trey,” she started carefully. “Want to talk?” Did he think he could just drive her home after that and not explain?
His neck muscles pulsed, pumped as tight as his fingers gripping the steering wheel. “Yeah, I do.”
She held her breath, wondering how she could possibly believe any explanation for what just happened. And maybe he’d been so caught up in the metaphysical battle he hadn’t noticed the trees falling.
“Sasha, what exactly are you and why is a cursed Hindu warrior trying to take you from me?”
3
Trey ground his molars then eased up before they turned into powder. What the hell had happened back in Piedmont Park? The stoplight he barreled the Bronco toward changed to amber. He shoved an annoyed glare at the swinging lamp that switched right back to green before he reached the empty intersection and spun the truck left. Adrenaline surged so hard through his tight body he could wrench the steering wheel off the column.
He took a breath and glanced at Sasha.
She stared openmouthed at him in a stupor then recovered to yell, “Me? What are you?”
Touché. His fury subsided. He’d been so shocked at her dropping two trees he’d overlooked exposing his own abilities.
But he could not share much about Beladors outside his own kind and only to protect the tribe. The one exception was telling his mate, which Sasha would never be. Aside from the telepathy issue, he’d still never risk linking her life to his, a condition of taking a mate. And mating to anyone with powers was a major no-no that was rarely allowed.
Trey wiped a hand over his face, buying a minute to formulate an answer then went with a stock line that VIPER’s PR department doled out for government bureaucrats.
“I’m trained to deal with . . . unusual situations. That’s why I can’t talk about what I do. Our agency’s identity and operation are tightly protected secrets.” Not bad. That was a reasonable answer without giving up anything significant.