Nehema closed her book and set it aside. “What’s your plan? After you’ve used Devon to gain access to the hospital, how are you going to dismantle a global network?”
Clenching her hands until her nails dug into her palms, Zophiel scrambled for a rational explanation. Usually a few comments about the degradation of children was enough to work Nehema into an irrational fit. Why was she being so cautious, so methodical?
“The backers have made one vital mistake. They’ve gathered the majority of their eggs into one basket.”
“Have you been able to confirm that fact?”
Screw the facts. It was time for some creative manipulation. “The hospital was meant to be a central hub, a headquarters from which the backers could operate all their other facilities.” She had no idea if that was true or not, but it sounded believable. “The success of Therian attacks, combined with your aggression, have forced the backers to consolidate. They’ve circled the wagons, so to speak. So we need to strike hard and strike now, before they regain their footing.”
“We’re powerful, but not that powerful.”
“I agree. That’s why I need a few of your Abolitionist soldiers.” Nehema didn’t immediately reject the idea, so Zophiel hurried on. “We take Devon tomorrow night and offer her to the backers. They’ll think they’ve won, that we’re desperate enough to cooperate. That will buy us enough time to recruit a larger army. Even your soldiers aren’t enough for what I have planned. Once we have a large enough strike force we’ll rescue all the captives, make the backers pay for their crimes, then burn the place to the ground.”
Silence descended and Zophiel held her breath. Had it been enough? It would be harder than hell to take Devon without Nehema’s help.
Zophiel was about to give up and devise another plan when a slow, cruel smile parted Nehema’s lips.
“I’m in.”
Chapter Twelve
Ian pressed his warm palm against the side of Devon’s face and her heart fluttered like a caged bird. “Why me? Why now?” she whispered, half afraid of the answers. Mating bonds were permanent. If they did this, there would be no turning back.
“When I failed Esmah so miserably, I thought my punishment was to never feel love again.” He moved his other hand to her face as well, surrounding her with warmth and affection. “I think that’s why I fought my feelings for you so hard and for so long. I couldn’t believe that I’d been given a second chance. I didn’t think I deserved one.”
She slid her hands up his chest and circled his neck. “Everyone deserves a second chance.”
His hand shifted and he traced her lower lip with his thumb. “I come with centuries of baggage, but I’ll love you until the day I die.”
Joy rolled through her like a summer wave and happy tears gathered behind her lashes. “I love you too. I think I always have.”
She tilted her head back and parted her lips as he leaned down and kissed her mouth. The past was forgotten and the future blurred. Whatever challenges awaited them, they would face together, united by an unbreakable bond.
His tongue circled her lips, teasing, encouraging her response. She touched her tongue tip to his then eased into his mouth, memorizing each shape and texture. He was warm, his taste familiar and exciting. She slid her tongue across his, bolder now, wanting more. His tongue curled around hers then guided the kiss into her mouth.
Without warning, he scooped her up and carried her toward the bed. Passing through the archway required some maneuvering, but he managed it without separating their mouths. She clung to him, secure in his arms, lost in their kiss.
He sat down on the side of the bed with her still cradled in his arms. The kiss went on and on, neither willing to lose the sweet intimacy. She touched his face and neck, addicted to the heat of his skin. He tugged her tank top upward and she raised her arms, their mouths separating just long enough for the shirt to pass between them.
His hand covered her breast and she moaned into his open mouth. His image had hovered in the back of her mind all day, keeping her body smoldering, aching for more of what they’d shared that morning.
She tugged his t-shirt free from his jeans, but he turned and laid her back across the bed before she could finish undressing him. He pulled off her socks and his boots then stood as he shed his t-shirt and jeans. He never wore underwear, a fact that thrilled and aroused her.
He placed his knee on the bed, obviously meaning to join her, but she held out her hand and said, “Stop. Let me look at you.” She’d seen him without a shirt countless times, but the rest of his body was still new and amazing.