Dead World 3, page 14
She’d done a good job of avoiding the intimate act earlier. Perhaps Catherine thought not kissing him would somehow protect her heart, but Raphael would have none of it. He wanted all of her, demanded nothing less than her complete and total surrender.
Catherine was tentative at first, as if she wasn’t used to being kissed. Her style was clumsy and endearing. He vowed that would change under his tutelage. He would teach her everything he knew and then some.
He pulled back, letting her take charge and set the pace. Raphael waited for her to relax. They clanked teeth and mashed lips in a clumsy mating that made his heart melt with its purity and sheer innocence.
When things fell into a natural rhythm, Raphael deepened the embrace, tasting her once more with his tongue, worrying her lips with his teeth. He made sure to keep his fangs retracted. He didn’t want to accidentally cut her and send himself into a frenzy. Catherine followed his lead, then slowly took charge.
Her swollen nipples hardened as they brushed his chest. Raphael pulled her close and kept kissing her. She tasted so fresh, so clean, utterly wrong for him, but that didn’t stop him from taking what she offered.
He wanted her. Hell, he needed her. And Raphael hadn’t needed anyone for a very long time. He knew he was in trouble as Catherine’s weight settled on top of him. He released her hair and ran his hands down her body, grasping her ass. It was small and compact, much like the woman. He squeezed, grinding her hips into him. He thickened inside her and surged toward release.
No! Not yet, something in his mind screamed.
Raphael broke the embrace, trailing kisses over her eyes and cheeks. Catherine gasped as he made his way to her ear. He nibbled on her lobe, before dipping his tongue inside. Her body clenched him tight. He wasn’t the only one anticipating the bite.
“Do you want me?” he murmured in her ear.
“You know I do.” She rocked her hips.
“All of me?” He ran his fangs along the column of her throat, but didn’t break the skin.
“Yes,” Catherine hissed, then slammed her body down on his erection.
Raphael groaned. “You’re not playing fair.” He nipped her lobe before returning to nuzzle her neck.
“I never do,” she said. “You of all people should know that by now.”
“I do.” Raphael growled and bit down.
Catherine exploded on contact, her body riding another orgasm as her hot blood rushed into his mouth. Raphael’s senses came alive, cataloguing the moment like a voyeur.
The musk, the sweet taste of her essence on his tongue, the tight grip she had on his shaft, and the need that kept building and building inside of him.
Raphael pumped his hips, driving her down at the same time until she was locked tight. Damn it, he couldn’t get enough traction. Without thought, he rolled them, never breaking contact. He tongued her neck, while drawing from the wound.
God, she tasted so good and felt even better. His hips rocked, pumping hard as her blood rocketed through his system and sent him into an animalistic fervor. Raphael threw his head back and roared, then latched onto her neck again.
He was half out of his mind and blood drunk by the time he followed Catherine into oblivion. Spent, Raphael collapsed to the side, pulling her close and tucking her small frame against his chest.
It took some time, but her breathing finally leveled out. Soon she’d be asleep. Raphael stroked Catherine’s hip, trying to maintain consciousness, but it was a losing battle. She’d sapped his strength, leaving him deliciously spent in every way.
“That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever experienced.” He’d never be able to let her go. How would he tell her? And what would she do when she learned the truth?
They rose as the sun was beginning to set. Chaos gathered her pack, struggling to get it on her shoulders. Raphael walked over and plucked it out of her hands. He handed her his smaller pack, then pulled hers onto his back.
“Let’s switch for a while.” He secured her pack into place without waiting for her answer.
Chaos opened her mouth to protest, but closed it quickly, secretly grateful. She shrugged into his pack and then flipped up the tent flap. The fire in the moat had died down, but was still enough of a deterrent to keep the predators away. Not that it would matter, since they’d be leaving the safety of the fire ring soon.
She stepped through the opening and scanned the area around them. Chaos didn’t see anything, but waited for Raphael to confirm her observations before going any farther.
He followed her as she walked past the tents toward the thin strip of sand that acted as a safe crossing spot.
“Do you think we’ll ever catch up with them?” she asked.
Raphael looked at her, then at the empty area surrounding them. “Yes, as long as they don’t encounter any trouble.”
“What about us?” she asked.
Raphael caught her chin in his fingertips, his black gaze burning in the fading light. “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said with such conviction her heart clenched.
Chaos swallowed hard. “I’d appreciate if you kept yourself out of harm’s way while you’re at it.”
His expression softened, but before he could say anything they might both regret, she said, “Let’s go. We have a lot of ground to cover before dawn.”
He nodded, but the knowledge she saw in those black eyes unnerved her.
Chapter 16
Raphael followed Catherine feeling more content than he’d ever felt in his lifetime. He still wasn’t sure what that meant, but he was happy to wait for the answer. Once they reached the top of a particularly high dune, Raphael closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.
Michael, can you hear me? he asked, using the psychic channel they’d used as children.
Silence met his call.
Michael, I know you can hear me. You’re close. I can sense you near. Why do you not answer?
A breeze picked up, rustling his hair.
Brother, please don’t play this silly game. We’ve been apart long enough. He pleaded.
Raphael? The voice was quiet, hesitant…almost unrecognizable.
Michael, it’s me. Where are you? I searched everywhere after Morgan said you were injured. Your silence concerns me. Let me see with my own eyes that you are well.
I’m camped to the south. Where are you?
Not far from a nomadic settlement. Raphael paused, wondering whether he should mention the dead. Michael would sense it if he held back anything. There were bodies. Lots of bodies.
Michael ignored the mention of bodies as if they were of no consequence. Raphael’s unease grew. He’d protect Catherine with his life, but what if the person he was trying to protect her from was his own brother? Ice filled his veins.
“Are you okay?” Catherine stopped when he hadn’t followed. “Is something wrong?”
“I’m fine,” Raphael said evenly. “I am trying to contact my brother, using the method I spoke to you with.” He finished the last half in her mind.
“Still not comfortable communicating that way,” she said. “I’ll be over here. Come get me when you’re done.” She pointed to a spot not far from where she currently stood. It was enough space to give him privacy—not that he needed it.
Michael, are you still there? Raphael called out again.
Yes, you were about to tell me who you are traveling with, he said.
It was Raphael’s turn to pause. He hadn’t mentioned he was traveling with anyone.
Come now, brother. Don’t be shy, Michael teased. Who is she?
Her name is Catherine Meyers. She’s a member of IPTT.
The news was met with more silence.
We’ve reached an agreement. I take full responsibility for her. I think it would be best if we met up and traveled together.
How did you know I’d be here? he asked.
Raphael thought about it, then decided to once again answer truthfully. I searched your home. When I saw your bag was missing, I had a pretty good idea of where you were headed. The only question I have is why?
Michael sighed mentally, but Raphael heard it.
Long story. Much has happened since we last saw each other.
I’ve heard some troubling news, but the full story remains murky. Morgan said that Roark harmed you. Is that true? Raphael asked.
I won’t wait long. Michael ignored his question and sent him a mental picture of his surroundings.
We’ll hurry, Raphael said, breaking the connection. They needed to reach Michael. He could feel it in his gut. His brother was on the edge of being lost to him, but Raphael was determined to save him.
“Did you talk to him?” Catherine rose to her feet.
“Yes.” Raphael nodded.
She waited a minute, then added, “And?”
“He is waiting for us to the south. I’ve seen his small shelter. It’s tucked between the dunes.”
Catherine looked around and laughed. “Everything here is tucked between dunes.”
Raphael smiled. “I’ve seen what he can see from the top of the dunes surrounding him. I’ll feel him when we get close.” He looked around to get his bearings.
She hesitated. “It’s none of my business, but are you sure this is a good idea?”
“Meeting up with Michael or traipsing out in the middle of no-man’s-land without an army?” Raphael asked.
She laughed. “The prior. I mean the guy hasn’t exactly gone out of his way to speak to you. And I know you’ve been trying to contact him.”
These were all questions he’d asked himself and had yet to come up with satisfactory answers. What had Roark Montgomery done to his brother to create the screams that Morgan had heard? Why had his brother been avoiding him? Why was his brother after Morgan and Red, when he’d sworn to help them? Until they met up, he wouldn’t have his answers.
“It would be safer traveling with my brother,” he said quietly, hoping it was the truth.
“No offense, but your brother didn’t look like much of a fighter when I met him,” Catherine said.
“In this instance, looks can be very deceiving. Michael is the most dangerous man I know.”
Her face scrunched. “I thought you owned that title.”
Raphael laughed, the sound painful to his ears, and shook his head slowly. She had no idea how very dangerous his brother could be. And he prayed that remained the case for her sake—and his.
Her world was swathed in shades of black and white. There was no gray, only right and wrong. Catherine had no clue how violent a human being could become when survival was on the line, but Raphael and his brother did. They’d lived in hell and walked out the other side, brushing flames off as they went.
“You should know, little storm, that even though I’m extremely dangerous, I am defenseless compared to my brother.”
“Good thing you brought me with you.” Catherine grinned.
“If only it were a joking matter,” Raphael said softly.
Her expression grew pensive. “How can you love him if he’s such a monster?” she asked, her eyes the size of synth-steaks.
Raphael slipped into her mind and saw she hadn’t meant to offend him, so he answered her query with one of his own. “I think the better question is, can you learn to love a monster?”
“I don’t have to love him,” she said. “We just have to get along.”
Raphael looked at her. “I wasn’t referring to Michael.”
They found Michael exactly where he said he’d be waiting. His campsite was packed up and he was pacing like he could bolt any second. His skin was paler than usual and Raphael noted a slight tremor in his hands.
Raphael put an arm out to stop Catherine from getting any closer. “Wait here.” He needed to see how his brother was doing, before he allowed her to approach.
“If you need me, yell.” She patted her gun.
“I’ll be all right. He’s my brother,” he said, not sounding as confident as he would’ve liked. “Michael,” Raphael called out.
Michael stopped pacing and turned to face him. For a moment, it was like they’d never been apart. Happiness showed on his face, reminding Raphael of the boy who had followed him to school every day. The joy was gone as quickly as it appeared. His eyes narrowed when they landed on Catherine.
“Brother, it’s me,” Raphael said.
“I know who you are. Do you think I would not recognize my own brother?” Michael continued to stare at Catherine, his gaze cold and assessing.
Raphael waved his arms, drawing his brother’s attention away. His heart hammered in his chest, threatening to batter his lungs into jelly. He stopped a few feet away from Michael, noticing for the first time the dark circles under his eyes.
“What are you doing out here?” Raphael asked.
“The same thing as you, I suspect,” Michael said.
“Not likely,” Raphael replied. “What happened to you?” He took in Michael’s torn clothing and scraped knuckles. He looked as if he’d been on the losing end of a fight. Raphael thought about the dead nomads they’d encountered. If there was a fight, they’d lost.
Michael glanced at him.
Cold swept over Raphael despite the heat. “Tell me, please. So I can fix it,” he said, sounding desperate. He hadn’t found his brother after all these years only to lose him again. Michael was his only family.
Raphael glanced over his shoulder at Catherine. Her hand rested casually on her weapon, but there was nothing casual about her stance. He willed her to stand down, even though she was only trying to protect him. It was evidence of how shaken Raphael was that he’d forgotten he could mentally communicate with her.
“I can smell the woman on you,” Michael said. “Her scent covers you like cologne.” His black gaze switched from cold to assessing.
“So? A woman’s scent on me is nothing new.” Raphael shrugged and kept his expression placid, even though he was feeling something akin to panic inside. Catherine was his. He wouldn’t share her body or her blood. Brotherly love wouldn’t change that fact.
“True, but this one appears prepared to shed blood in order to protect you,” he said. “That is something new.” Michael’s eyes narrowed as he stared at her. “She looks familiar. Do I know her?”
“No,” Raphael said. “But you have run into her in passing.”
“Roark’s office?” he asked.
“Yes,” Raphael said.
Michael grunted in response. “When do you plan on dumping her?” he asked. “She’s too small to keep up with the pace we’ll set.”
“I’ll release her when the time feels right,” Raphael said. It would never happen.
“Typical,” Michael said.
Raphael shook his head. His brother wouldn’t understand. “There is nothing typical about this one,” he said.
That got a rise out of Michael’s left brow. “You’ll have to tell me all about it, brother, especially what makes this one so special. She doesn’t seem like your...type.”
“I have a type?” Raphael asked.
Michael laughed. “Not that I recall.” He opened his arms and walked forward.
Raphael stepped into the embrace. “I’ve missed you,” he said, relaxing. Michael seemed normal enough. Contrary to Morgan’s assessment, he wasn’t showing any signs of distress. Maybe things weren’t as bad as Raphael thought.
“Me, too,” Michael said. “Now tell your woman to get her hand off the gun stock. I’m not going to bite.”
Raphael released Michael, then waved to Catherine to come forward.
Chaos approached cautiously. Raphael’s expression was one of relief. She wished she could say the same for his brother’s. Something about Michael Travers left her cold. She didn’t know whether it was his black eyes or his pale gray complexion.
She glanced at Raphael, who had the same features, but somehow less defined. Raphael was a rough draft to Michael’s polished finish. Chaos continued to stare, cataloguing each man’s features. She decided it wasn’t the color of the eyes that told the real story. It was what she saw in them.
Death.
If Michael Travers felt anything, he didn’t show it. Looking into his eyes was like staring into deep water. Chaos didn’t like what she saw reflecting on the calm surface. It belied the darkness below.
A shiver traversed her body despite the evening heat. He was everything Raphael described and more. How could she have ever thought he was incapable of murder? Michael practically vibrated with barely leashed violence.
Raphael thought they’d be safer traveling together, but Chaos wasn’t so sure now that she’d gotten a good look at his brother with his tattered clothes and wild eyes burning with madness.
“Come here,” Raphael said. “I know you’ve met my brother briefly, but I’d like to introduce you properly.”
“Catherine Meyers, this is my brother, Michael Vega,” Raphael said.
“Thought you said your name was Travers.” She stared past Raphael and forced herself to meet Michael’s obsidian gaze.
“It is. I changed my last name long ago, when I thought...” his words trailed off as he looked at Raphael.
“We thought we’d lost each other,” Raphael filled in. “We only recently reunited. It was a joyous day for us both.”
Love shined in Raphael’s face. It was so bright that its brilliance nearly blinded Chaos. She’d never had any siblings or parents for that matter. She’d never had anyone to call family besides the clones she was raised with, but she was never really one of them.
Chaos hadn’t been created. She’d been born. Her parents just hadn’t wanted her. She’d gotten over it. But every once in awhile, when she witnessed this kind of love, it drove home all she’d missed.
Chaos stuck out her hand. “Nice to meet you,” she said.
Michael grasped her fingers and she felt a mental push that didn’t feel like Raphael’s gentle presence. You don’t have to pretend, the voice said. I sense the truth.
Michael… How was he able to speak directly in her mind? Did he know why she was really here? The thought terrified her.
For Raphael’s sake, I do have to pretend, she said, responding in kind.
