Rush of Pleasure

They had definitely done that. In an ironic twist, the Collective had partnered up with the Casus after being offered a deal they had hoped would lead to the death of the clans. Instead, their greed had left the Army looking like idiots.

“The Collective generals might covet blood, instead of money or power, but it all ends the same,” he said. “In misery and death.”

He could feel the press of her stare as she looked at him. “And what do you covet, Noah?”

Apparently you, he almost muttered. But he managed to choke down that colossal blunder.

“I mean, what is it you’re trying to do?” she asked, without waiting for his answer. “Buy yourself some good luck? You should be trying to find Calder. Not worrying about how to stop the Death-Walkers.”

“I honestly don’t know.” He worked his jaw, uncomfortable with the topic. Hell, he didn’t waste time psychoanalyzing his actions. He just went with his gut and tried to keep his head on straight, which meant keeping busy. He didn’t like sitting around and thinking everything to death. Shit like that drove him mad.

“What about you?” he asked, wishing he hadn’t smoked his last cigarette. He’d never been much of a nicotine addict, but the past few months had been a bitch. And it wasn’t like there weren’t worse vices he could be indulging in.

“What about me?”

Noah slid her a speaking glance, then returned his attention to the road. “From the bits and pieces I’ve heard over the years, you’ve earned quite a reputation as a badass investigator. One who isn’t afraid to mete out some rough punishments every now and then. Kind of like a judge, jury and executioner all rolled into one.”

“Well, it does pay to be a little bit bad,” she said with a smile in her voice. “And I never hurt anyone who’s innocent.”

“And what about those who are guilty?”

“That,” she murmured with almost feral satisfaction, “is a different matter altogether.”

“Is that why you decided to focus on warrior training? So that you could mete out justice?”

“Oh, you know,” she said airily. “It was either that or go into Jessie’s line of work and end up wearing a rabbit on my head.”

“You got a thing against ol’ Rufus?” he teased, sliding her a lopsided smile.

“Naw, I just didn’t like the idea of anything squishing my hair.”

A burst of laughter rumbled up from his chest, and he was surprised by how good it felt, the husky vibration feeling almost new. Jesus, had it really been that long since he’d laughed?

“And really,” she continued, “I couldn’t see myself doing anything other than what I do. It just … works for me. I enjoy the travel. The freedom. And it probably sounds corny as hell, but I enjoy helping people.”

“What kind of cases do you normally take?”

“There’s a lot of jerk-offs bailing on their families, leaving the wife and kids behind and shacking up with clueless chicks half their age. The whole deadbeat-dad thing, just like you said. But I also work a lot of missing-persons cases, which can just about kill me if we’re talking about a child. Those are the …” Her voice trailed off, and he watched from the corner of his eye as she rested her temple against the darkened passenger’s window. “Those are the hardest, but they’re also the ones that bring the greatest reward, if I’m able to make a difference. Most of my clients have nowhere else to turn, since it’s difficult to involve the police when your child isn’t human.”

Something weird turned over in his chest, and he rubbed at the spot with the heel of his palm. “I wish there were more people like you in the world, Will. It would be a helluva lot better place if there was.”

She gave a soft, self-deprecating laugh, then turned back toward him. “It’s strange to hear you talk.”

He slid her a curious look, wondering if he had a speech impediment he didn’t know about. “Why’s that?”

“You just don’t sound as Southern as you used to.”

With a grin, he said, “It’s easy to lose an accent in California. No one in my family sounds all that Southern anymore, except for my mother.”

“What are your brothers up to?”

“Jackson’s been running my bar for me back in San Francisco.”

“Winston’s, right?”

“That’s right.” He waited to see if she would expand on that, wondering what else she knew about the life he’d left behind in California, but she kept silent. “Anyway, he’s a good kid. Mom was pissed that he dropped out of college, but he couldn’t take it. He damn near already knew everything they were trying to teach him, so it bored the heck out of him. He’s taking it easy for now, content at the bar, trying to figure out what he wants to do with the rest of his life.”

If he has one.

The intrusive thought made him flinch, and he shook his head, surprised when she reached over and put her hand on his arm. “It’s okay, Noah.” Her voice was soft with understanding. “He’ll make it through.”

“Thanks,” he grunted, enjoying the touch of her hand. And missing it when she pulled away, settling her hands in her lap. Giving himself a mental shake, he got back on topic. “And Bryce is a family man now.”

“No way.”

“I swear to God. He married a woman who’s part panther, and she keeps his crazy ass in line. They have a little girl named Zara, who’s the cutest damn thing you’ve ever seen.”

“I can’t believe you’re an uncle.”

He smiled. “I’m not just an uncle. I’m her favorite.”

With a quiet laugh, she said, “I bet she misses you.”

“Yeah, I miss her, too. I haven’t seen her since we moved the unit’s headquarters to England.”

“It seems so odd that you live there.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I guess I just never pictured you as the English-manor type.”

Dryly, he said, “I try not to drag too much mud through the place.”

“I wasn’t saying you’re not classy enough, Noah. Just that you’re too …” She seemed to be searching for the right word, but couldn’t find it. “Never mind. But it wasn’t an insult. I didn’t know you were so … Well, you’re pretty touchy, you know that?”

“And you’re pretty bitchy,” he drawled, liking it when she gave another soft laugh.

They finally caught sight of the motel Will had said would be a good stopping point, and he pulled into the lot. At this time of night, the place was nearly full with travelers and truckers, but the clerk knew Will and managed to scrounge up a room for them. It was clear from the look in her eyes that she wasn’t thrilled about having to share a room, but she didn’t openly complain. Instead, she simply tossed her bag on the king-size bed and told him she was grabbing a shower.

As he sat on the foot of the bed, listening to the rattle and hum of the pipes, Noah considered the situation he and Will now found themselves in. They’d never really been friends. They’d been more like thorns in each other’s sides when they were younger, always bickering and snapping. Constantly rubbing each other the wrong way.

And then everything had come to a head on that last night he’d been in Sacred, and all that prickly energy that’d always been between the two of them had transformed into something mind-blowing. Into something that’d shocked the hell out of them both.

Now, twelve years later, they still weren’t friends. Were more strangers than anything else, and yet, it didn’t feel like he’d just spent hours with a stranger. In some ways, the span of years since he’d last seen her seemed nonexistent—but at the same time, everything had changed. What had happened between them that last time they’d been together had irrevocably altered the cadence of their relationship. Like a match to flame, all that restless, uncomfortable energy had spectacularly combusted, flaring into something violent and raw and explosive, creating a feeling that was … Well, it was …

Damn it, he didn’t know how to explain what it was. Noah only knew it was something he’d never felt before. That he’d never come close to feeling since. And it was still vibrating in the air between them, impossible to ignore.

He just didn’t know what to do about it.