Lupi 09 - Mortal Ties

has a Rhej ever died before she could pass on the memories?”
    His eyebrows went up. “It hasn’t happened, therefore it won’t? You usually argue better
     than that.”
    She laid her hands on his chest, wanting the contact. “Ithasn’t happened, and maybe there’s a reason. You protect your Rhejes in every way
     possible, and that’s got to be part of it. What if the Lady protects them, too? By
     warning them, maybe, in certain special circumstances. Like if a Rhej who hasn’t passed
     on the memories is about to do something that’s apt to get her killed.”
    He was silent for a moment. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
    “I’m pretty sure the Rhejes know a lot of stuff they don’t talk about.”
    “The Lady doesn’t speak to her Rhejes often. I know that much.”
    “Speech isn’t the only way she communicates with them, though. Hannah talked about
     having dreams or feelings about stuff. And the Lady is a patterner. Like Friar, only
     with aeons more experience and knowledge. She’d be able to read patterns really well.
     She’d have a good sense of when one of her Rhejes needs to stay home.”
    He didn’t say anything. She felt the tension thrumming through him.
    “When Cynna asked me to promise I’d call if we needed her, she said she might not
     be able to come. She wanted me to call, but she couldn’t say if she would come or
     not. I didn’t think much about it then, but later I got to wondering…was she just
     keeping her options open? Or did she think she’d get some kind of mystical thumbs-down
     if coming here was a bad idea? Either way,” she finished gently, “Cynna gets to decide.
     Not you or me.”
    His breath gusted out. One corner of his mouth turned up. “Nice of you to include
     yourself in the we-don’t-get-to-decide-for-her ultimatum.”
    “Yeah, well, I was tempted to find a loophole in my promise. Don’t think I wasn’t.”
    “You’re going to call her.”
    “I am. But not right this second.” She drifted her hands up to his shoulders. “I’m
     all talked out at the moment. You?”
    He lowered his hands to cup her hips. Then he justlooked at her, his gaze intent, as if he needed to find something in her eyes. Uncertainty
     pinched at her. “What? What is it?”
    He smiled slightly and shook his head. “Nothing. Or nothing important, and I find
     I, too, am not in the mood to talk.” He bent his head and nibbled at her lips. “Especially
     not of unimportant things.”
    She leaned into the kiss. He reciprocated for a moment, then pulled back, tending
     to the side of her neck instead of her mouth. Delicious little thrills raced over
     her skin, a goose-bumpy delight that made her smile as she reached for the buttons
     he’d just refastened on his shirt.
    He smiled at her with lazy, hooded eyes and covered her hand with his. “Not yet,”
     he whispered, and turned her hand up and kissed her palm.
    He wanted slow. He wanted lingering and teasing, and she was not in a patient mood.
     As with so much in a relationship, compromise was key.
    She compromised by cupping his balls. And squeezing exactly the way he liked.
    He gasped. When he smiled this time his eyes were still hooded, but not lazy. Not
     at all. “So that’s how it is, is it?” And he launched his counterattack.
    Lupi move really fast when they want to.
    She didn’t notice any buttons go flying, so maybe he’d unfastened her pants before
     sliding his hand inside. But then, she didn’t notice much at all except his fingers
     sliding, parting, moving. She forgot what she’d meant to do to him and grabbed onto
     his shoulders for balance—then, because her hands were right there, grabbed his head
     and pulled it down.
    No more nibbling. This kiss was hot and deep, and she twisted against him, reveling
     in the flood of feeling. Wanting him to be flooded, too—to turn loose, pop the clutch,
     let go of that fearsome control he used and needed everywhere else in his life and
     go flying with her.
    The flying buttons came from his shirt. It took her twotugs because he bought quality, and the thread didn’t break easily.
    He laughed. His eyes were on fire and he laughed, full and delighted, and he jerked
     her tank up over her head and lowered his head and…
    And she remembered something. “The door,” she said, as he traced a hot, wet path with
     his mouth along her collarbone and down.
    “What door?” He hadn’t removed her bra. He didn’t let that stop