Penumbra (Spook Squad 3)

“What you are,” he said softly, “is a warm, bright woman with a past that is undefined. But military creation or not, you are not the sum of your making. You have a mind and a soul that are all your own, and they are not evil. You could never be evil.”

Her gaze searched his. “Are you sure of that? Truly sure? Because if my dreams are to be believed, I did some pretty horrible things in that place.”

Maybe it was a trick of the light, or maybe the car had somehow shrunk, because suddenly her face seemed nearer to his, her lips nearer still. The urge to close the gap between them, to caress her mouth with his own, rose with a vengeance from somewhere deep inside. Suddenly he was drowning in the desire to kiss her and fighting for control.

“We all do what we must to survive,” he said softly and gently brushed several strands of hair away from her warm cheek. She trembled slightly under the caress, but her gaze didn’t leave his. And there was a challenging light in her eyes, as if she were daring him to acknowledge what was happening. Daring him to do what he wanted to do.

He didn’t. He just said, “In your case, I doubt you would have done anything that you were not forced to do.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

“I am.”

And with that, he gave up the fight.

He kissed her slowly, passionately, as if he had all the time in the world and this kiss was not their first, but rather one of many. And it felt fantastic. As her smell entwined him, filling his every breath with the richness of vanilla and cinnamon, he groaned and deepened the kiss, wanting, needing, to taste every inch of her. As his desire fled south, she answered in kind, her hands sliding up his chest and around his neck, until she was holding him as if she never meant to let him go. It made him hunger to taste her more fully, to skim his tongue across her warm, pale skin, exploring and savoring every bit of her.

God, this kiss felt so right, so scarily right, unlike anything he’d ever experienced before—even with Andrea—that it shook him to his very core. Andrea had been his soul mate; he’d been so certain of that all his life. But if that were true, he shouldn’t be feeling the completeness he was feeling with this kiss, this woman, no matter how deep the attraction.

And yet he was.

So had he been wrong so long ago, as Jessie had said, or was this connection, this rightness, something altogether different? Perhaps something due to the storm bond and the shadow walker genes that ran in her blood and apparently in his?

He didn’t know.

But one thing was certain. Now that he’d experienced it, he had to explore it. He had no option. He was a shapechanger, and part of that heritage was the fierce desire to find the one woman who was his other half, his destiny. This kiss had woken that part of him, and there was no turning away. Especially after all these years of being convinced that his soul mate was dead and buried.

And while now was not the time for such thoughts or such explorations, the fact was, he could no longer ignore what was between them, could no longer push her away.

But could he breach the fences he’d

spent so long creating?

He pulled back from her just enough to allow some breathing room between them.

“I’m sorry—”

She placed a hand on his lips, stopping the rest of his words. “Don’t apologize for something I’ve wanted for a long time now.”

He wasn’t apologizing for the kiss, despite his reservations and uncertainty, but rather his timing—which pretty much stunk—and his treatment of her over the past few months. One kiss shouldn’t have changed anything, yet it had. But really, what was the point of explaining that? She probably wouldn’t believe him anyway. Hell, he was finding it hard to believe. “Then I won’t.”

She smiled. “Good.”

He glanced at the road ahead and saw, with surprise, that they were almost at Greensborough. The nursing home where Mary Elliot was being looked after was only five minutes or so away. Time sure flew when you were kissing your partner. Or rather, ex-partner. “I think we need to talk.”

“I agree, but not here or now. Later, over brunch.”

He nodded and retreated to his side of the car. But her scent still seemed to surround him, filling his every breath, forcing him to fight desire. “So, tell me about this Mary. How did you find her in the first place?”

A ghost of a smile touched her lips. She was obviously well aware that he was trying to distract himself. “Joe gave me a pin with two figures on it—an abstract man and woman standing side by side, one dark, one light. He said that by seeking its image I’d find our murderer. He also said that I’d find the first stepping-stone to my past.”

“So the pin led you to Mary Elliot?”

She nodded. “And to the truth about Rose Pierce.”

“Which begs the question, how did he know?”

She sighed. “Maybe he is military. He walked like military, if that makes sense.”