Dark Protector Page 10

  She dug her nails into his strong back, knowing she would leave marks and not caring. Then he reached between them, brushing his thumb across the center of her need once…twice…three times before he triggered an explosion deep within her. She begged for mercy, but he gave her none. Instead, he withdrew and slid down her body. Before she could protest, he cupped her bottom in his hands and held her prisoner as he kissed his way up the inside of her thighs to where her body still trembled in the aftermath.

  He showed her no mercy, forcing her toward the edge again with his lips and tongue. When she came a second time, he gave her a satisfied smile. Then he suddenly flipped her over on her stomach and pulled her hips back toward him, entering her again. The new position felt primitive, as if the two of them had been transported to an earlier time when the strongest male laid claim to the female of his choice.

  She knelt before him, her forehead pressed into her pillow. No one had ever taken her with such passion, such intensity. And never had she welcomed a lover with such total abandon. It pleased her to know his control was slipping, as his belly slapped against her bottom, each parry and thrust stripping away the last bit of rational thought she had. There was nothing but Devlin and the way he made her want and feel and need.

  Devlin slipped his hand down around the curve of her hip to urge her to join him, and their bodies shuddered and shivered in shared ecstasy.

  Then gently, with the sweetest of kisses, Devlin settled her at his side, and they slept.

  • • •

  Circling the building, he slipped from shadow to shadow. The reek of the Dumpster offended his nose, but it afforded the best position to watch Dr. Young’s condo without being seen by passersby. Cursing that last cup of coffee he’d had, he used the privacy of two large bushes to relieve himself. If he’d known that damn Paladin would be staying for so long, he’d have come better prepared for a stakeout.

  He was hungry, he was tired, and he was sorely disappointed in Laurel Young. Despite her dubious choice of professions, caring for those animals they called Paladins, he’d always thought well of her. But the light in her bedroom had just come on and Devlin Bane was still inside. The thought of her taking that murderous bastard as a lover made him physically ill.

  And jealous.

  The light stayed on for a damn long time, another reason for him to hate the Paladin. It was one thing for the good doctor to take a quick roll in the hay; he could understand a woman being tempted by all that testosterone. Even the guards got some of that kind of action; some women found it hard to resist a man in a uniform.

  But it was obvious that she’d not only spread her legs for the bastard, she was letting him share her bed for the night. The image of the two of them, naked and sweaty, snuggling in for the duration, pissed him off. For that, he hated them both.

  He decided to set off on his long walk home. He’d finally found the Paladin’s weak spot, a weapon he could use against him. With all of the other Paladins guarding Devlin’s back in the tunnels, he didn’t have a chance to bring the man down there. But he could lure him into a trap alone, using Laurel Young as bait.

  For the first time since accepting the contract, he smiled.

  Chapter 7

  The scent of coffee slowly brought Devlin back to consciousness. He couldn’t have had more than a few hours of sleep because he and Laurel had made love multiple times in the tangle of blankets. But instead of being tired, he felt pretty damn great as he sat up on the side of her bed. He found his boxers where he’d kicked them under a chair and retrieved his jeans from a corner across the room. He needed a shower and maybe some of that coffee he smelled.

  Then he and Laurel needed to face the music.

  Not ready to deal with all the implications of what they’d done, he buried his body and his conscience in the stinging hot spray of the shower. It didn’t help that the bar of soap smelled like her skin, something flowery and feminine. He used her pink razor to scrape his face clean of whiskers, wondering if he’d left beard burns on her breasts or on the tender skin between her legs. She hadn’t complained, but then she had definitely been a bit distracted.

  He grinned. Who would have guessed that their sweet, innocent Handler would turn out to be such a passionate lover? Judging from her reactions, some of what they’d done had been new experiences for her. That pleased him. He might not have been her first lover, but he’d been her best. He’d made damn sure of that.

  Which was going to make it even harder to walk out of her door and not look back.

  After toweling off, he dressed and ran his fingers through his hair. He’d have to stop by his place to change clothes first. But before any of that could happen, he needed to talk to Laurel. Though hot sex had helped her get past yesterday’s events, the two of them had to come to terms with today and the future.

  He picked up his shoes and padded down the hallway to the kitchen, and it hit him that the condo was very quiet. Too quiet. Unless he was mistaken, he had the place to himself. Son of a bitch, she’d left without telling him! He’d accuse her of being cowardly if he wasn’t feeling more than a little relieved himself. Nothing like the morning after to ruin a good night of sex.

  Especially if it had been far more than just good sex.

  He stepped into the kitchen and looked around. How considerate. She’d left the coffee on for him. There was even a box of cereal sitting by a bowl and spoon. He wanted to slap the stuff off the counter and kick the stool across the room. Instead, he poured himself a cup of coffee, adding two spoonfuls of sugar and a splash of milk. Then he spotted a folded piece of paper with his name written on it, stuck to the fridge with a magnet.

  Yanking it down, he sent the cutesy magnet clattering to the floor. She’d had an early morning meeting that she couldn’t miss? Maybe, but that didn’t explain why she’d snuck out without a word. And as lightly as he normally slept, she must have crept around as quiet as a whisper to keep from waking him up.

  The scalding coffee went a long way toward stabilizing his mood. His cup went into the dishwasher, his towels into the hamper, then his cellphone rang. He snapped it open. “Bane here.”

  “You’re needed.” There was a note of excitement in Cullen’s normally calm voice.

  “What’s up?” Either the mountain was restless or the pressure along the tectonic plates had reached the breaking point. Let the Others come—he’d be ready, sword in hand.

  Cullen confirmed his suspicions. “The readings along the fault are climbing. We’re going in.”

  He glanced at the clock on Laurel’s mantel. “Be there in thirty.”

  “We’ll be waiting.” The phone went dead.

  Devlin looked around the apartment with regret. The chances of him ever being there again were pretty slim, and it was a damn shame. But as long as his mind was his own, he’d cherish the memory of spending the night in Laurel’s bed, in her arms. He turned the lock and pulled the door closed on his way out, wishing it didn’t hurt so much.

  In just under twenty minutes, he turned into the alley where Penn sat guard.

  “Lonzo and the others have been pouring in. They must be expecting a bad one.” Penn looked envious. Given half a chance, he’d abandon his post to follow them down into the tunnels to fight. But a couple of months before, he’d suffered such a severe wound to his sword hand that it weakened his grip. The Handlers were hopeful that given enough time he’d return to full strength. Until then, he did what he could to keep busy.

  “Cullen said the readings are climbing quickly.”

  “Give them hell for me.” He flexed his hand. “Tell them I’ll be coming back soon.”

  Then he sniffed the air as Devlin walked past. A wicked grin spread across his face. “Nice perfume. I hope the lady was accommodating.”

  Devlin clenched his fists as he fought a powerful urge to kick the shit out of the unsuspecting Paladin. His comment wasn’t anything that hadn’t been said before to Devlin and any other number of their compatriots. The diffe
rence this time was that Laurel deserved better. Hell, the other women he’d known over the years probably did, too, but still, Laurel was different.

  He headed for the entrance. With luck, he’d soon have a more suitable target for his temper. The thought of pounding a few Others into dust pleased him.

  Inside, he headed for his office to retrieve his weapons. His sword still bore the burn mark from the barrier, but otherwise it was in prime fighting condition. He strapped on the sheaths for his throwing blades and then slipped a small revolver in the back of his waistband where it wouldn’t interfere with his mobility. Guns worked just fine on Others, but they couldn’t be used near the barrier itself. A careless shot could bring an already unstable barrier down.

  His friends were waiting at the elevators that would carry them to the tunnels below the city. The barrier wound along the major fault lines throughout the world, and in most areas it remained stable for years at a time. But along the Pacific Rim’s string of volcanoes, the barrier was more susceptible to attack. The Regents deployed their supply of Paladins accordingly. Every time that Mount St. Helens sent up a plume of ash and steam, they took up position along the barrier and waited for the attack to come.

  “Glad you could make it.” D.J.’s fingers flew over the keypad next to the elevator. Immediately, a soft hum signaled its approach.

  Devlin stepped to the back of the crowd, to allow the others to load first so he could take his accustomed position at the front of the elevator. A soft beep sounded as the doors started to slide open. Before they could enter, however, the march of footsteps caught their attention. The Paladins were all too independent to make orderly soldiers; marching in neat formations was out of the question.

  That’s how Devlin knew that it was a squad of Guardsmen approaching. The Paladins all turned to face the newcomers, each jockeying for position to defend himself if necessary. Cullen and D.J. moved up on either side and slightly behind Devlin. Their unspoken support felt good.

  The Guard turned the corner with Colonel Kincade leading the parade. What in the hell was he doing there? He carried his usual sidearm but otherwise didn’t look ready to do battle. His men, on the other hand, were in full riot gear.

  “Mr. Bane.” Colonel Kincade held up his hand to bring his men to an abrupt halt.

  “Colonel Kincade.” He kept his tone of voice neutral. None of the Paladins had much use for the man from Ordnance, but he wielded considerable power in the organization.

  “These men will join you in the tunnels.” He stepped to the side as if Devlin and the others hadn’t yet noticed his escort.

  “Why? The barrier hasn’t failed yet. You can always send down reinforcements after we’ve assessed the situation.”

  Down in the tunnels, the Guard was sometimes more of a hindrance than a help. Few of them had the same hand-to-hand combat skill as the Paladins. When they got into trouble, it was up to Devlin and his friends to get them out of it. A fair number of Paladins had been gravely wounded or killed outright trying to rescue their lesser companions.

  “I don’t want to risk waiting. Too many Others can escape the tunnels if we aren’t prepared. If my men are not needed, Sergeant Purefoy here will relay that information to me.” He shot Devlin a knowing look. “These men are trained to fight the filth that comes across, Mr. Bane. They are not here to guard elevators or to run errands for you. I’ll be looking forward to your report on today’s activities.”

  Then the conceited bastard walked away, having effectively set the two groups at odds.

  Now someone would have to take charge of deploying both the Paladins and the Guard so they wouldn’t get in each other’s way. Make that two someones, so they could watch out for any unexpected attacks from a Guardsman.

  Devlin said, “We’ll take the first elevator, Sergeant. Send half of your men in the second, the rest when our elevator returns.” Without waiting for a reply, he turned to his friends. “D.J., get that elevator door open. We’ve wasted enough time.”

  As soon as the doors glided closed, sealing the Paladins inside and out of hearing, he turned to face the others. “I don’t want Kincade’s men down here any more than you do, but most of them are brave, good men. Against any other enemy, I wouldn’t hesitate to march into battle with them. But today I don’t have any choice in the matter and neither do you. I assume you’ve all heard that I was killed by a human down here in the tunnels.”

  He held up his hand to stave off any comments. “We don’t know if the sneaky bastard is going to try again, but I don’t want anyone fighting alone today. Pick a partner and stick with him. Spread out to the far ends, both north and south. Cullen and I will deploy the Guard here in the middle. Keep your radios open. If anyone needs help, yell and we’ll all come running.”

  One by one they nodded and began pairing off. Just before the door opened, they all pulled down their eye goggles to protect their eyes from the superbright lights in the tunnels that were designed to put the Others at a greater disadvantage. Two by two, they spread out to do as they’d been told.

  Devlin watched them go as he and Cullen waited for the Guard. His friends weren’t easy men to be around, but they would get the job done. And maybe, with luck, the barrier would hold and no one would have to die today.

  Just as the elevator pinged to announce its arrival, a rumble shook the ground and a ripple of dark energy slithered up the length of his spine. Hell, so much for luck. The barrier flickered, and then failed right in front of them.

  Devlin drew his sword, stood shoulder to shoulder with Cullen, and waited to draw blood.

  • • •

  The fighting went on for hours and hours. The bodies were piling up, making it almost impossible to move without tripping over Other wounded, as well as far too many of his own men. He had to admit that the Guard had made a good showing. The Others fought to the death, because the battle could have only two outcomes for them. Either the Paladins would drive them back across the barrier to the darkness of their homeworld, or they would die trying to cling to this one.

  At least the barrier was back up in full force, so no more Others would come screaming across. Earlier, every time the Paladins thought they had the situation under control and could start mop-up procedures, the barrier would flicker and they’d find their backs to the wall with a fresh onslaught of Others, armed to the teeth and ready to die. He’d seen Lonzo go down when he’d tried to stop half a dozen from reaching the elevators. Devlin and a handful of the Guard had fought their way to him, but it was too late. Laurel would have another Paladin to revive as soon as he could spare the men to start treating the wounded and the dead.

  “Hey, Devlin! Where the hell are you?”

  He turned in the direction of Cullen’s voice, keeping one eye on the tunnel to his left. Trahern and D.J. had circled around to the south, to herd any escapees down toward where Devlin and the Guard were waiting for them.

  “Over here!” He watched to make sure his friend spotted him. Cullen headed straight for him, stepping over bodies. There was dried blood on his sword arm, but Devlin couldn’t tell if it was Cullen’s or someone else’s.

  “Have you got things under control down this way?” Cullen leaned wearily on his sword as if it were a cane.

  “Trahern’s making one last sweep. There’s no telling how many made it across that last time, so we don’t know if we got them all.” Poor bastards. How bad was their homeland, that facing almost sure death at the end of a Paladin sword was an improvement?

  “Once I hear from Trahern and D.J., we can start sorting things out. Why don’t you have the Guards start moving the wounded into the elevators?” He didn’t have to say that the dead could wait, even the Paladins. They would start reviving even without their Handlers’ help. They’d get them to the lab in plenty of time before they actually woke up.

  Lonzo was another one of Laurel’s caseload. As far as Devlin knew, Lonzo was in no danger of crossing the line. It wouldn’t hurt for Laurel to be reminded t
hat the majority of the time the Paladins made the transition back to living without incident.

  He was about to ask if Cullen knew how many others went down when the sound of running feet brought his full attention back to the tunnel. Planting his feet wide, he raised his sword into attack position, ready to deal with the four Others heading straight for him. Cullen moved beside him, prepared to do battle yet again.

  Three adult males with their strange, pale gray eyes came out of the tunnel and spread out, weapons at the ready. Behind them stood a lone female, her face calm as she met Devlin’s gaze and then Cullen’s. She brought up her own sword and touched it to the center of her forehead in salute. Then she called out something in their guttural language. The males echoed the words and surged forward.

  Just that quickly, Devlin was fighting for his life against three experienced swordsmen. Unfortunately, they were in the one area where there was room enough for all three to engage him at once. The woman ran full tilt toward Cullen, keeping him from coming to Devlin’s aid. When a couple of the Guard moved to join in, he waved them off.

  “Get back. Get the wounded out of here. And for God’s sake, stay out of Cullen’s way.”

  In a flurry of double-handed slashes he went on the attack, drawing first blood, wounding one of the Others badly enough to force him to withdraw from the fight—a definite improvement in the odds. The remaining two males fought in tandem, a sign that they had trained together. The taller one feinted to one side, drawing Devlin in that direction. At the same time his partner went left and then spun quickly to fling a circular blade right at Devlin. He managed to get his arm up in time to deflect it away from his neck, taking the injury in his forearm instead. Though painful, it was unlikely to prove fatal if he could dispatch his opponents soon.

  He noticed that they were slowly retreating toward the barrier, where the woman was clearly giving Cullen a run for his money. She moved with the grace of a dancer, one with lethal moves. A trickle of blood ran down her cheek from a small cut, but it didn’t interfere with her concentration. She yelled something at the men, who immediately backed away, careful to keep Devlin and Cullen from reaching their wounded comrade.