She gave him a startled glance. “Yeah, we did, didn’t we?” But she wasn’t quite sure they had.
“I had to eliminate a threat,” he said a few minutes later. “We’ll be taking a short detour to dispose of it.”
Her throat dried up. “In the truck bed?”
“Yeah.”
He had killed for her. Again. The hairs on the back of her neck rose at the thought of her proximity to the result. But she was no hypocrite. Neither was she a child any longer. “It had to be done.” Her arms tightened on the children’s bodies. “Let’s clean it up before they wake.”
Clay’s gaze met hers again and those forest-in-shadow eyes were incandescent with a fierce kind of joy. It shook her.
Had he expected her to run from him again?
The kids were awake by the time Dorian made it back. Dawn was edging the horizon and Talin was so happy to see him unhurt, she gave him a huge hug.
His smile was startled, less charming and more open. “Hey, hey, I’m good. No one saw anything but a pissed-off student hitching a ride after his girlfriend dumped him in the middle of nowhere.”
She drew back and looked him up and down. “Where did you get those clothes?” He was wearing a T-shirt bearing the logo of a death metal band over his own black jeans. He’d also found a disreputable headscarf, which effectively hid his distinctive hair. She looked closer. “Did you put mud in your hair?”
“All part of being resourceful.” Draping an arm around her neck, he walked them back to the plane. Clay was standing outside with little Noor in his arms. The girl had wrapped herself around him upon waking and hadn’t let go since. Talin hadn’t been the least surprised when Clay handled the attachment without a blink.
“Ready?” Dorian asked.
Clay nodded. “Later.”
For once, Talin understood perfectly. Dorian had stayed behind for a reason and it had to have been something important. Giving him another hug, she climbed into the plane to settle in beside Jon. The boy was no longer drugged but there were emotional bruises in those striking eyes of his.
“Hey.” She put her hand on his. He wouldn’t look at her. Reaching over, she cupped his cheek. “What’s the matter, Johnny D?”
This time, he did glance up and his gaze was wet with tears he refused to shed. “They fucking made me scream.”
Male pride, such a fragile, precious thing. She nodded at Noor, now entering the cockpit with Clay. “She hasn’t got a mark on her. Did you protect her?”
He shrugged. “They said if I cooperated, they’d lay off her for a bit, but that was a lie.” His eyes went to Dorian as the sentinel slid into the pilot’s seat. “Who’s that?”
“Dorian,” she told him. “He’s Clay’s packmate.”
“Like a gang, huh?”
She didn’t quite know how to answer that but Clay turned around and did it for her. “The ultimate gang,” he said, his hand rubbing gently over Noor’s back as she lay curled up against his chest. “We mean it when we say Pack is One. And you did good, kid. Screaming is a fact of life-hell, Dorian here would never shut up when he was your age.”
Dorian threw Clay an unfriendly look, then glanced at Jon. “Don’t listen to a word he says. He’s scared of needles.” He turned back to the gauges. “Ready for lift off, boys and girls?”
Jon relaxed, apparently happier now that he’d had some male feedback. Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, she dared put an arm around him. To her surprise, he let her hold him. When she pressed a kiss to his brow, he didn’t even fidget.
Smiling, she met Clay’s eyes. Her kids were home.
Turning back to face the windshield, Clay caught Dorian’s tense expression. The other man was worried for the same reason as him, a reason Tally had forgotten in her happiness. This wasn’t over. And the next target was most likely going to be Talin herself. Not that the fuckers would get anywhere near her.
Mind on their next move, he leaned back and closed his eyes against the glare. This was one mean bitch of a headache. It felt like red-hot pokers driving into his brain. He’d have worried the Psy soldier had caused permanent damage if he hadn’t been in pain since waking up that morning. Reassuring Noor when she shifted restlessly, he decided he’d have to talk Tally into petting him tonight.
They all ended up crashing at Nate and Tamsyn’s upon their return late in the afternoon. Not only did she have a big house, the kids needed to be looked at, and together, Tammy and Sascha made a pretty good medical/healing team. By the time everyone had bathed, eaten, and been checked out, it was too late to talk, so they scheduled a meeting for midmorning the next day.
Noor fell asleep without trouble, but Talin had to coax Jon into a herbal sleeping remedy that Tamsyn had made up.
“I don’t want any more drugs in my fuck-” He bit off the curse. “No drugs.”
“It’s natural, won’t mess up your body or cause addiction.” When he remained stubborn, she dared touch him, stroking her fingers over his face. “They hurt you, Jon. Your body needs to rest so it can heal. This’ll help. Please.”
It took ten more minutes, but she finally won. With both children asleep, she was free to tackle Clay. “Lie down,” she ordered, careful to keep her voice lower than a whisper. “Do you want me to ask Tamsyn for headache meds?”
His answer was predictable and, unlike with Jon, she knew she wouldn’t be able to wear him down. “Hate drugs.” But he did stretch out on his back on the bed.
Having already spoken to Tamsyn about what worked best on changeling physiology, she poured out drops of an un-scented natural oil onto her fingers and began to rub them in slow, gentle circles around the general region of his temples.
Groaning, he closed his eyes. It made her throat lock, he looked so vulnerable. It wasn’t a word she associated with Clay, wasn’t a face he often showed. But tonight, he had trusted her with it. Swallowing her tears, she continued the gentle massage. Some time later, she realized he’d fallen asleep. She sat there and watched him for the longest time.
He was her everything.
But the original reason for their coming together was now complete. Jon was safe. So was another child. What if Clay decided he couldn’t forgive her enough to continue this relationship, his leopard’s territorial nature too strong? She bit down hard on her lower lip when her fearful pain threatened to shift into sound. If Clay rejected her-now or later, for any reason-she would break once and for all.
So she watched him, drank in his image. By the time she forced herself to get up, strip off her clothing, and crawl into bed beside him, her skin was cold and she was aching with the hunger to belong to him, to prove to herself that he wouldn’t leave her. But he slept. And after long, tortured minutes, so did she.
She woke to strong, sure fingers between her thighs, luscious wet kisses along her jaw, an aroused male body spooned around her. “Feeling better?” she managed to gasp out as he dipped his fingers inside her welcoming heat. She was wet, embarrassingly so.
“You feel like warm, lickable cream.”
All embarrassment fled, to be replaced by sheer need. “Come inside me. I need you.” To hold on, to never let go. Please don’t leave me alone again. Please, Clay.
He spread her open with his fingers and began to slide in, so big from this angle, so hot. Then he murmured in her ear-earthy words of passion, quiet, sexy endearments that made her feel like the most beautiful of women. She pushed back into him, undone. When he lifted her thigh to deepen the penetration, she had to clench her jaw to hold off a cry.
He paused. “Did that hurt?”
“You feel too good.”
A masculine chuckle. “I love the way you smell.” He nuzzled at her neck, flicked out his tongue to taste her. “I love the way you feel. So soft, so hot.” When he finally rocked her to climax, that hungry place inside her soul was almost filled up. Almost.