Recap: In Chapter One, brothers Marcus and Matthias happen upon the birth of a rare female Angelikin. Years later, Marcus is forced to track down the child, now a grown woman, and bring her back to Matthias.
Poetry in motion. Matthias couldn’t think of a better way to describe the way Kylar moved around the training facility. Usually he was too engrossed in trying to keep his skin intact to notice the way she moved, but he wasn’t the one she was sparring with. This was her first training session with someone else. A group of someone else’s, actually.
He’d given the soldiers the order not to pull their punches, not hold back. More than anyone else in the compound, he knew what the girl was capable of dishing out. His soldiers were in for a rude awakening if they let her age and petite stature temper their shots.
Kylar stuck her foot out from behind the pillar she’d been using as cover. The soldier crouch walking by her stumbled and cursed. It was all the opening she needed to tumble him ass over tea kettle. Her thick soled boot rested across his neck, the silver daggers Marcus had given her held firmly in each hand.
“Take the shot,” he muttered, eyes fixed on the soldier just beyond Kylar with a dagger of his own at the ready. “Take the fucking shot.”
She waited until the last second to move out of the way. Like a scene from The Matrix her body bowed backward, bending at the knees to move out of the dagger’s path. Her feet kicked out, rising in the air as she executed a flawless back flip and landed in a fighter’s crouch.
“Is that the best you’ve got?” she shouted. “Come on, you bunch of pansies.”
The sound of his office door slamming open pulled Matt from his recollections. Kylar had grievously wounded three of his men that day. Judging by the look on her face as she marched into his office, she wanted to give him the same treatment.
Kylar planted her feet apart on the carpet in front of his desk and cast a mutinous glare at him. He coughed to hide the bemused smirk threatening to bust out on his face and returned her stare.
“You bastard,” she spat at him.
Matthias’ eyebrows rose, displaying his surprise at the venom in her voice. Obviously he’d done something to piss her off, but what? He blinked at her, waiting for the tempestuous beauty to continue.
“You confined me to quarters?” she ranted. “Like some five year old who needed to be reminded of her place?”
Oh, that. He sighed and stood to go around the desk. The slight movement of her left hand drew his gaze, stopping him before he rounded the front corner. A dagger hilt peeked through Kylar’s fist, the rounded silver end of the grip catching the light from his desk lamp.
Frowning, he stepped back and studied her for a moment. She’d worn her hair loose today. The wild mass tumbling around her shoulders curled under the curves of her breasts. It wasn’t a style Kylar adopted often but when she did – he wanted to wrap the loose coils around him and get lost in them.
Matt shook himself. If he kept it up she’d ram the dagger into his chest and he’d spend the next ten minutes healing the evidence of his infatuation. Who was he kidding? He was completely in love with the damn woman.
Wasn’t that just the problem and the reason he’d done what had her standing in front of him, angry and fit to stick her favorite dagger in his hide?
“Did you hear me, Matthias?” she asked.
He nodded. “I did and yes, I confined you to quarters. Considering that encompasses the whole compound, which is the size of a small city, I’d say it’s no real hardship.”
“No real hardship?” she repeated. “Are you out of your mind?”
“No,” he laughed. “I’m quite sane and justified in my actions. You ran away for three months, Kylar. Someone needs to save you from yourself.”
Eyes narrowed to angry slits, she glared at him.
“Save me from myself?” she snorted. “You have got to be kidding me. Really? Bullshit. I can defend myself better than any of the men here. Hell, it took you sending Marcus after me to haul my ass back.”
“Exactly,” he agreed. She stepped back, startled. “Now that I’ve got your attention,” Matt continued. “I can’t afford to waste resources on search missions to find you when there are lives at stake, Ky. We’re at war, in case you forgot, and the other side is winning.”
Kylar blanched. Finally, she was starting to understand the consequences of her actions.
“Of the three teams I sent after you, one came back,” he informed her. “Twenty men lost. Captured, because you decided life was better on your own. Was it worth it?”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “We… There’s no way to get them back?”
He frowned, studying her while she put her dagger back in the sheath on her thigh. “No. You know what happens when one of us is caught by a Tracker team. There’s no coming back from it.”
Her knees buckled and he scooped Kylar up before she hit the floor. Cradling her to his chest, Matthias walked over to sit on the end of his bed. Not exactly the best place to take her but the closest and more comfortable option.
“I didn’t…,” she began. “God, I’m sorry. Who?”
Matthias understood her question and listed off the names of the men taken. She’d known them all, trained beside them, even called some of them ‘Uncle’. He kept the hardest one for last.
“No,” she gasped and shook her head. “Not Larson. He can’t be gone. He can’t be!”
Holding her close, he let her cry against his chest and waited for the rage to come. He’d sent her best friend into danger. It wouldn’t matter to her that she’d been the one to cause the situation. Matt had sent out Larson’s squad, therefore she would lay the blame at his doorstep.
Her soft kisses and ardent caresses didn’t register with his brain until Kylar had his shirt halfway off. She’d shifted around in his lap, her breasts and hips pressed firmly into his.
He opened his mouth to speak and instantly found it filled with her tongue. The flavor of her favorite cherry bubble gum lingered in her mouth, sweetening the kiss she gave him. Matt knew he needed to stop her and fully intended to until she bit his lip and suckled on the tender flesh.
Every single one of his brain cells focused on the grind of her hips against him, the heat of her mouth and the pleasurable pain of her nails digging into his shoulders. Nothing in his centuries of existence had ever felt more right, more perfect than the woman desperately trying, and succeeding, to seduce him.
Gripping Kylar’s hips tightly in his hands, Matt pushed up, grinding into her so she understood just how much she affected him. She groaned, arching into the rhythm and any shred of his resolve shattered.
Matthias rolled her beneath him, his thighs wedged between hers as she writhed on the coverlet wantonly. God, she was beautiful against the dark red silk. She was grieving the loss of a friend, but damn it if he could bring himself to care. For too long he’d been denied the ability to touch her. Just this once he wanted to see what she felt like beneath him, around him.
One swift, firm yank tore Kylar’s thin t-shirt down the middle and bared her to his starving eyes. He leaned in, nuzzling the valley between her breasts and taking in the sweet lemon and vanilla scent of her skin; she smelled good enough to eat.
He grinned and slid lower, nipping at her belly as he worked his way down. Would she taste as good as she smelled? God, he hoped so.
The button holding her cargo pants closed popped at the same time as the door to his quarters slammed open and bounced off the wall.
“Matt,” Marcus spoke from behind him. “Oh. Shit. What the fuck?”
“Get out,” Matthias ordered. “Now. If you value your life.”
A loud snort echoed behind him. “I don’t give a shit about my life if it means you screw up Kylar’s. Get off her. Now.”
Roaring with anger, Matt pushed up from the bed and pivoted to lash out at his brother. He swung out with a right hook, knuckles kissing nothing but air as Marc leaned backward out of striking range.
Fight mode fully engaged, Matthias struck with his left hand and caught his sibling in the ribs with a powerful punch. No slouch in hand to hand combat, Marcus returned the favor with an uppercut that stumbled Matt back a step or two.
“Matthias!” Marcus shouted. “Would you stop for a minute? I have news. Another female has been found.”
Pulling his punch at the last minute, Matthias stepped back and frowned at his brother. His chest heaved from the exertion of fighting and it took a moment for him to have enough breath to speak.
Kylar stepped up beside him and he glanced at her. He’d forgotten she was there in his desperation to beat the crap out of Marcus for interrupting them.
“You found another girl?” she asked.
Marcus frowned, shaking his head. He held out a piece of paper to Matthias who grabbed it quickly and scanned the contents.
“The Trackers are holding a young Demonkin female,” Marc advised. “They’re threatening to kill her unless we surrender. More importantly,” he turned to Kylar. “They want you.”
Crumpling the paper in his fist, Matthias growled. “They can’t have her.”
“I know,” Marcus drawled sarcastically. “We all do. No one can have Kylar but you. What’s your plan then?”
“You’re going to rescue the girl.” Matt glanced at the ball of paper, then his brother, and smirked. “Ky and I have a few things to sort out while you’re gone.”
Marc shook his head and held a hand out to Kylar. “No, you don’t. I’m leaving strict orders with my men to keep you apart until I get back. After what I just found – no way I’m letting her within ten feet of you without an armed escort.”
Ky put her hand in Marcus’ and Matt locked his hands behind his back to keep from hauling the woman to his side.
“Make it quick or I won’t be held responsible for how few men you have left when you return.”
Chuckling, Marcus turned with Kylar and left Matthias to stare at the empty doorway.
“Damned Angelikin pain in the ass,” he grumbled and flopped down on the bed. The scent of lemons and vanilla wafted up from the sheets to tempt him with things he wanted desperately but couldn’t have. Not for another few weeks anyway. Long, insufferable weeks.
Untouchable will return September 10th, 2011.
Copyright © 2011 Danielle Gavan
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.