Shadow's End (Elder Races #9)

Her mind raced over possible consequences. Is there proof that Malphas murdered him?

No. But we don’t need conclusive proof of a murder. He framed her face with his hands. His gaze had turned fierce. We have enough proof of everything else, along with what happened to the other victims he enslaved, that we can now establish a clear, documented pattern of behavior without ever mentioning what happened to Ferion.

She repeated, Documented behavior.

The reality of what he was saying began to sink in. Over the last several months, while she had been fighting to recover along with rest of her people, Graydon had been patiently, carefully collecting proof to use against Malphas.

Along with everything else, she remembered what he had said, as if it had happened yesterday.

I will keep looking for a way to get out of this. No matter how long it takes, no matter what I have to do. I will not stop until we’re all freed.

He had kept to his word. Looked at houses in Charleston. All this time, when she had been fighting despair and discouragement, he had been quietly fighting.

Her heart filled with a powerful, unnamed emotion. Wetness spilled from the corners of her eyes.

He said, This is no longer about whether Malphas broke Djinn law. This is about crimes against other Elder Races. Crimes against humanity.

You’re saying it’s a matter of tribunal law, she breathed.

He nodded. After all the victims from Devil’s Gate, and the human casualties in the Nightkind demesne, along with other problematic events, like the bombing of the Oracle’s home in Louisville, the human government is acting very spooked right now. Senator Jackson is heading a federal subcommittee to look into what they claim are abuses committed by the Elder Races. His appointment can’t be an accident. Relations between humans and Elder Races have never been so strained before. The tribunal will not be able to set this aside.

She moistened dry lips. You mean we can get enough support to kill Malphas.

I really believe we can. He watched her expression closely.

Her hands were shaking. She pressed them together. But if we attack him, we’re putting Ferion’s life on the line.

I didn’t say it would be easy or without risk, and we couldn’t attempt anything without some serious planning. The one thing I know for sure is we can’t let Ferion rule the Elven demesne while Malphas controls him. We have to free him, and free ourselves.

Slowly he bent and angled his head. She froze, waiting to see what he would do next.

He put his lips on her cheek. They were warm against her chilled skin. The sensation caused her trembling to increase.

In the barest thread of sound, hardly more than his lips moving against her skin, he whispered, “Come to New York. We can figure out what we need to do then.”





ELEVEN


Instead of lifting his head afterward, he kept his lips pressed against her cheek, resting against her, breathing her in.

The sensation ran along her nerves, causing the private place between her legs to throb.

Heated images ran through her mind.

The way his gentle fingers had probed at her sensitive flesh, discovering exactly the right way to give her the most pleasure, the urgent need with which he had suckled at her breasts.

The way his powerful body had moved to cover hers as together they positioned his cock at her entrance, and he had pressed inside her. Even though it had been years, it felt as powerful as if it had happened yesterday.

It grew harder to stand on her own. She needed to pull away from him, to let the cold fresh breeze clear her mind, but she was so hungry for his touch, she found herself leaning into him instead. She gripped the edges of his jean jacket for support, while she tried to think.

She whispered, “I told everyone I wouldn’t go to the masque this year.”

“Say you changed your mind,” he murmured. He touched the delicate skin at her throat, stroking his fingers along her skin. “Say you need a break. That’s valid, Bel, especially since you’ve worked just as hard, if not harder, than anybody else to get your demesne back on its feet. And think about it—there’s no better time for you to come to New York without rousing suspicion. The masque is next week. Is Ferion attending?”

She shook her head. “No, he said he would stay home as well.”

“If you came right away, that would give us several days to figure out a plan of action. We can talk everything over, free from his scrutiny.”

Indecision gripped her. She held herself tense, trying to see her way clear to the best decision.

She felt as if she were surrounded by a wall of thorn bushes, and everywhere she turned, wicked, needlelike thorns were ready to tear into her flesh. Her mind spun in circles, looking for a way out of the trap.