mouth, driving her wild with delicious shock. Even with the power of fire at her fingertips, she was helpless against this, against him.
At that second, she didn’t give a flaming damn.
With mild surprise, Cynda realized she wasn’t giving off flames or smoke anymore. The heat was still there, flowing through her veins, cradling every muscle in her body, but she wasn’t destroying anything at all. Nick’s glow had faded. He was fully human now, stroking her, holding her, kissing her possessively, fiercely, one hundred percent human male.
When Nick broke away again, he moved his lips to her ear. “I will be guarding you when your triad’s not around. Deal with it.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Cynda shot back, then groaned as Nick nipped at that spot below her ear, and lower, almost to her shoulder. She pressed her hands against the muscle of his chest and dug her fingers into the taut flesh.
This time it was Nick who groaned.
He kissed Cynda, slower, deeper, drawing out the connection until she thought she’d burn to death on the spot.
Had anything in her life ever felt this hot?
When he finished, he pressed his cheek to her forehead and held her for a long while, letting her sag into him, use his strength to stand and just…be. She realized she was gasping instead of breathing, that her whole body was shaking, shaking in his embrace.
“We have scum-hunting to do.” He kissed the top of her head and squeezed both of her arms, causing a rush of shivers and new waves of desire. “Time to go.”
Cynda sighed, wishing Nick didn’t have to be such a dedicated cop—but also not wanting to deal with the endless amount of crap she’d get from Riana and Merilee if they showed up late and all ruffled for morning report. Reality crept back in a few steps, yanking her from her dreamy distance, reminding her of Legion attacks and dead fire Sibyls, and everything they had to accomplish before more warriors died.
Nick had promised they would hunt down the bastards responsible—together—and he was ready to make good on that deal. For now, they needed to hit the streets and find that worm of an informant Max Moses, and shake out whatever he knew.
Smoke rose from her shoulders again. She didn’t want to let Nick go.
Knew this would happen. He’s a distraction. This absolutely does not need to happen.
She and Nick would have to talk about this later. Like the bodyguard crap.
Truth be told, Cynda also didn’t want to give up her last few moments in the brownstone, feeling like this—so calm and relaxed and at home, like she used to before everything shifted. Nick’s touch had stirred her up in so many ways, but settled her down, too, helped her think, helped her realize she needed to say goodbye to the place, her way, in her own time.
She pulled back from him and gazed into his black eyes. “Go pull the Jeep around. I’ll be right behind you.”
Nick’s eyebrow twitched, communicating his mistrust faster than any frown. “About to bail out the back door on me?”
“I’m not splitting, Sibyl’s honor.” She lifted her hand to her nose and made a V over the top of it with her index finger and middle finger, parodying an old television show about witches. “I’m still pissed about the whole bodyguard thing, but I’m not stupid.” She lowered her hand. “I just need a minute to myself. In here, alone, I mean.”
Nick’s expression darkened a fraction, but he didn’t argue with her. He gave her another quick kiss on the forehead, a long stare that said Don’t you dare double-cross me, and headed out of the brownstone. The man was so tall he almost bashed his head against the wind chimes hanging by the front door. His black ponytail bounced between his broad shoulders as he ducked under the metal pipes and slipped out the door.
Cynda could only stare at him, and then at the spot where he had been. Her body still felt hot and tingly from touching him so intimately—and they both had holes in their
At that second, she didn’t give a flaming damn.
With mild surprise, Cynda realized she wasn’t giving off flames or smoke anymore. The heat was still there, flowing through her veins, cradling every muscle in her body, but she wasn’t destroying anything at all. Nick’s glow had faded. He was fully human now, stroking her, holding her, kissing her possessively, fiercely, one hundred percent human male.
When Nick broke away again, he moved his lips to her ear. “I will be guarding you when your triad’s not around. Deal with it.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Cynda shot back, then groaned as Nick nipped at that spot below her ear, and lower, almost to her shoulder. She pressed her hands against the muscle of his chest and dug her fingers into the taut flesh.
This time it was Nick who groaned.
He kissed Cynda, slower, deeper, drawing out the connection until she thought she’d burn to death on the spot.
Had anything in her life ever felt this hot?
When he finished, he pressed his cheek to her forehead and held her for a long while, letting her sag into him, use his strength to stand and just…be. She realized she was gasping instead of breathing, that her whole body was shaking, shaking in his embrace.
“We have scum-hunting to do.” He kissed the top of her head and squeezed both of her arms, causing a rush of shivers and new waves of desire. “Time to go.”
Cynda sighed, wishing Nick didn’t have to be such a dedicated cop—but also not wanting to deal with the endless amount of crap she’d get from Riana and Merilee if they showed up late and all ruffled for morning report. Reality crept back in a few steps, yanking her from her dreamy distance, reminding her of Legion attacks and dead fire Sibyls, and everything they had to accomplish before more warriors died.
Nick had promised they would hunt down the bastards responsible—together—and he was ready to make good on that deal. For now, they needed to hit the streets and find that worm of an informant Max Moses, and shake out whatever he knew.
Smoke rose from her shoulders again. She didn’t want to let Nick go.
Knew this would happen. He’s a distraction. This absolutely does not need to happen.
She and Nick would have to talk about this later. Like the bodyguard crap.
Truth be told, Cynda also didn’t want to give up her last few moments in the brownstone, feeling like this—so calm and relaxed and at home, like she used to before everything shifted. Nick’s touch had stirred her up in so many ways, but settled her down, too, helped her think, helped her realize she needed to say goodbye to the place, her way, in her own time.
She pulled back from him and gazed into his black eyes. “Go pull the Jeep around. I’ll be right behind you.”
Nick’s eyebrow twitched, communicating his mistrust faster than any frown. “About to bail out the back door on me?”
“I’m not splitting, Sibyl’s honor.” She lifted her hand to her nose and made a V over the top of it with her index finger and middle finger, parodying an old television show about witches. “I’m still pissed about the whole bodyguard thing, but I’m not stupid.” She lowered her hand. “I just need a minute to myself. In here, alone, I mean.”
Nick’s expression darkened a fraction, but he didn’t argue with her. He gave her another quick kiss on the forehead, a long stare that said Don’t you dare double-cross me, and headed out of the brownstone. The man was so tall he almost bashed his head against the wind chimes hanging by the front door. His black ponytail bounced between his broad shoulders as he ducked under the metal pipes and slipped out the door.
Cynda could only stare at him, and then at the spot where he had been. Her body still felt hot and tingly from touching him so intimately—and they both had holes in their
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