She was paying for the magick she’d done earlier. No preparation, no patterning—she’d simply dropped her defenses and gone for it, performed a major Work without any thought of the consequences. No wonder she was shaking with need.
Everything has to be paid for. She realized she’d said it out loud. “Everything has to be paid for in magick, Nikolai, everything.”
“Do you think I do not know?” He pushed her onto her back, slid his hand between her legs. She was slick and feverish, damp with need. “Hush. Lie still.”
It took a massive effort to do what he said. It would be quicker if she just let him—if she submitted, if she gave in.
Selene erupted into wild motion, trying to fight him off. He caught her wrists, stretching them above her head, and pinned her to the mattress. She would have been screaming, but his mouth was on hers, catching the scream, killing it. She tried to kick him, straining, but he slid a knee between hers. Then all of his weight, and Selene felt the edges of his hips against the soft insides of her thighs. He was much warmer now, his skin almost scorching hers.
The energetic discharge of sex would feed him, too. That was why a tantraiiken was such a valuable paranormal pet.
Pet? Slave. It was frowned upon, of course, but paranormals and Talents weren’t that tightly policed, even though the laws were almost in effect to give them some protection and codify them. The higher echelons of the human world—the powerbrokers and politicians—knew about the slavery, of course, it was an open secret in some circles. But no newspaper would ever report on it, and no television anchor would ever talk about the things that went on under the blanket of normality. How sometimes, people born with certain Talents were lost to the night side of life.
He found the entrance to her body, thrust in, and his hands tightened around her wrists, the small bones grinding together. Selene gulped back another useless scream, relief spilling through her. His fingers gentled, threaded through hers. He murmured something—maybe it was Russian, she didn’t know, didn’t care, the only thing she cared about was that the agony had stopped. He was in her to the hilt, stretching her, her hips slamming up, silently begging.
He moved, again, and Selene closed her eyes. Pleasure tore through her, a dark screaming pleasure wrapped in barbed wire and dragging hot velvet laceration through tender flesh. Soon enough she would be able to think about grieving.
“Get…it…over…with.” She set her teeth together, even as her hips rocked and her ankles linked together at the small of his back. Her body betrayed her over and over again, that was the worst. Her body was an enemy, a traitor, it didn’t care who he was as long as he had what she needed.
“Oh, no,” he whispered into her ear, then caught her earlobe in his teeth, gently, delicately. A slight nip of razor teeth, and she sucked in a breath. He laughed, a low harsh breath against her cheek. “There are a few hours until morning.”
“I hate you,” she whispered back, even as her body shook and the blind fire took her again. And again.
CHAPTER 5
IN THE END, EXHAUSTED, SHE LAY LIMP AGAINST the bed, hugging a pillow rescued from the floor. Nikolai curled against her back, sweat slicking his skin so it slid against hers. Her entire body sparked pleasantly, and her shields were back up, thick enough to protect her again.
If Danny had been able to shield himself, would he have died? If he’d been able to run away from whatever had battered his door down, maybe he would have survived.
Don’t worry, Danny. Little sister’s on the job. I’ll get whoever did this to you. I promise. The words were a lump behind her breastbone, steel closing around her beating heart. I swear to you, Danny. I’m going to find who did this to you. I’ll do whatever I have to do.
That was one thing being a whore was good for. It let her contemplate doing just about anything to get what she wanted. What she needed.
Nikolai’s hand polished the curve of her hip, something cool and metallic sliding against her skin. He drew it up over her ribs, under her breast, until the medallion lay where it used to, half the chain spilling down to pool on the sheet. He fastened it at the back of her neck, one-handed, and flattened his other palm against the silver lying between her breasts. “There. This is important, Selene. Without it, you’re at risk. This gives you protection. You cannot throw it away. Understood?”
Shut up, suckhead. “Someone killed my brother.” Her throat rasped from choking back screams. “What happened? What was it?”
“If I tell you what I know, it would be nothing. If I tell you what I suspect, it will be confusing, because I suspect many things.” He yawned, burying his face in her hair, then spread one hand against her belly. He was warm enough to pass for a feverish human, metabolizing the jolt of sex into fuel. “If I tell you what I expect, we will be here for many hours, since I have learned to expect everything. It is too soon to tell.”