Gameboard of the Gods (Age of X #1)(91)
Author: Richelle Mead

He frowned, momentarily caught up in his own thoughts. “You kept company with the servant of another goddess this weekend, one our mistress doesn’t like. You need to eliminate her.”

“I don’t ‘need’ to do anything,” snapped Mae, trying to hide her shock at the reference to Callista. How did they even know about her? “And I’m not an assassin for hire.”

He shot her a wry look. “Really? Then why do you collect a government paycheck? Don’t be stupid about this. It’s your last chance to embrace your destiny…otherwise, you’ll face the consequences.”

Her body tensed. “Threats now if I don’t do your killing? Why would you even care about some zealot in the borderlands?”

“Because she and her goddess present a risk.”

“A risk to the Br—” Mae suddenly cut herself off as a terrible, sinking feeling emerged within her. It seemed as though Justin wasn’t going to be her last wacky mistaken-identity mishap. “You aren’t with the Brödern.”

Emil was briefly thrown off. “The Swedish mafia? Those underlings?” Slowly, almost comically, realization dawned on him as well. “You don’t know, do you? You have no idea who I am.”

“I know you’re a guy who broke into my house and dangled promises of my niece in order to get me to commit murder. Seems like that’s plenty.”

His eyes were full of wonder. “Unbelievable. They broke the rules and never taught you her ways. I just figured you were one of the many who stray, but you were never even set on the path. It’s a shame,” he murmured. “You’re too dangerous to change now.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

She threw the bowl, clipping Emil in the head. It made him stagger, and then with astonishing speed, he melted back into the shadows. She sprinted to the hall in a few easy steps and found no sign of him. It was impossible. He couldn’t be faster than her. Without stopping, she headed toward the bedroom and flipped on the light. He wasn’t there either. Swearing, she spun around and headed to the bathroom, wondering if he’d sidestepped into it. It too was empty. Her heart racing, she hurried back to the living room. Emil must have slipped into the bathroom while she was in the bedroom and then doubled back out. It was the only explanation…but it was improbable. This whole chase had only lasted a matter of seconds. She’d heard no door or window, and neither was open. The bolt to the storage area on the second floor was still in place.

She searched the apartment again, looking in every possible place: closets, under the bed, etc. No sign. He was gone, vanished without a trace. How had he done it? She paced around, more out of agitation than anything else. What did she do now? Calling the police over a break-in wasn’t unreasonable, but what was she supposed to say?

“Damn it.” She sat on the couch again, trying to calm down and figure out what to do. Except, there was nothing to do. It’s your last chance to embrace your destiny. Ominous words. She wanted desperately to tell someone about this, but who was there?

And more important, who was Emil? With his blond looks and information about her niece, it’d been easy to assume he was one of the mobsters she’d long beseeched for help. Clearly, that wasn’t the case. Weirder still, he seemed to think she should’ve known who he was, furthering the mix-up. She wished she had Justin’s talent for memorization so that she could analyze all the tiny details of the conversation. Surely there was a clue in Emil’s words. The most she could draw on was his mysterious use of feminine pronouns and his reference to some “mistress.”

The chiming of her doorbell made Mae jump. She’d nearly forgotten about Whitetree. Sex was suddenly the farthest thing from her mind, but he was on her before she could shut the door. There was an animal look in his eyes as he pulled her to him and crushed her mouth with a kiss. The kiss was unexpected and was what convinced her to shove Emil from her mind. The encounter with him had amped her physical responses up, and she suddenly wanted an outlet for them. Usually prætorian men didn’t waste time with kissing. In fact, in a remarkable show of restraint, he actually managed to carry her off to her dark bedroom rather than taking her on the couch, against the wall, on the floor….

But after that, the primitive urge took over, and their clothes were off in seconds. There was too much testosterone churning through him, and any rational thought he might have had was swallowed by his body’s out-of-control need to mate. She’d only just managed to lie on the bed when he threw himself onto her body, and like that, he was in her. No preamble, no foreplay. Mae made no attempts at resistance as he took out that animal fury on her. It was hard and it was rough, but her own desire had spiraled up enough to welcome it.

It was also brief. Prætorian sex almost always followed a similar pattern. That initial burst of lust was mindless and raging, and his body needed the relief as soon as it could manage it. He collapsed onto her, his breathing ragged and his skin already slick with sweat. This pure, basic need was a welcome change to all of the muddled goings-on of the last few days. Nothing esoteric here. Just nature.

With that initial blind lust sated, Whitetree’s desire—though still strong—eased a little. He rolled over, his breathing relaxing. It wouldn’t take long for him to recover if they wanted to do it again, and although it’d still be fast and furious, the second time usually managed to last a little longer and sometimes even allowed for foreplay.

But for now, Mae was content. Fast or not, her body had still found release, its bliss momentarily trumping her troubled mind. With their needs temporarily satisfied, the implant wound down, no longer needing to increase the hormonal output. Their hands trembled as the excess chemicals were metabolized.

“Lucky me,” said Whitetree at last.

“I’ve been kind of stressed.”

He laughed and brushed back her hair. “Well, if you need therapy again, I’ll be around. I’ve got another month here.”

“Doubly lucky,” she said, surprised at the bitterness in her voice.

“Hey, you’ll be back in the game soon,” he said, trying to reassure her.

Mae put her hands behind her head and sighed. “I should’ve just skipped the funeral.”

He shifted to his side to look her in the eyes. “She asked for it, Koskinen. She provoked it. You’ve got a hundred witnesses.”

“People keep saying that, but it doesn’t matter. I should’ve done the noble thing and walked away.” Thinking about Kavi was killing some of the afterglow happiness. So much for a reprieve. “The only upshot is that I didn’t cause anything worse than a quick hospital stay and physical therapy.”