Hostage to Pleasure

I’m latent. That used to make me angry. But that was before I decided I was going to become a sentinel. My mother thinks I’m pigheaded. I think I know what I want. And no one is going to stop me. No one had better even try.

From an essay titled “What I Want to Be When I Grow Up” by Dorian Christensen, age 8 (Graded A+)

They made it back to Tammy and Nate’s house around six thirty.

Something struck him as they entered. “Your PsyNet shields?”

“I’m safe.” She gave him a puzzled look. “I shouldn’t be. Dorian, what we did-”

“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.” His guess was that Amara was protecting Ashaya. But he didn’t want to bring up her twin again so soon. “Keep your head down and don’t get lazy with the shields.”

She nodded. “Sound advice.”

It made him smile to hear her being scientist-like after she’d just exploded in his arms. “I forgot to tell you-Rina’s set up another broadcast for tomorrow.”

Her eyes met his. “Maybe we can discuss it after dinner.” An invitation, a gesture of trust.

“It’s a date.” He let the memory of their earlier pleasure color the air.

“Dorian.”

Grinning, he nudged her upstairs. “Go on-Keenan’s probably wondering what’s keeping you. I’ll come up after I talk to Nate.”

When he finally did get upstairs, it was to find both mother and child asleep despite the early hour-Keenan lay tucked against Ashaya, her arms holding him tight.

The sight was a violent kick to his heart.

And he knew.

No more dancing around the truth. No more suspicions. He knew.

Chest brutally tight, he walked out into the hall, leaving the door ajar. The staggering weight of the realization had him shaking. Ashaya was his mate. That was why his leopard had gone so crazy around her from the start. It had known. But the man had been too angry to listen. So the cat had shoved all that need, all that hunger, into the most vicious sexual need. “Christ, I’m blind.” And he knew the blindness had been at least partly willful. He hadn’t wanted to feel such excruciating tenderness for the enemy.

It was so much easier to hate.

Ten minutes later, when he could breathe again, he walked back into the room and closed the door behind himself. As he slid down the back of it to sit on the floor, his eyes on the bed, he saw that his hands were shaking.

The tenderness was there deep inside, mingled with a feral protectiveness. But it was need that had him in its claws. Raw, visceral, painful. Their play this afternoon had already ratcheted up the level of his hunger, and now that he consciously knew the truth of what she was to him, the drive to possess her was close to crushing.

But he wasn’t an animal, so he wrenched the hunger back under control and kept watch as they slept. That sleep was of the truly exhausted-deep and intense-as if they finally felt safe. Realizing that calmed the leopard enough that he could think-given the current hour and the fact they were missing a meal, chances were high that his mate and child would wake during the night. He had to be alert when they did.

Whispering the situation to Tammy when she came upstairs to grab them for dinner, he ignored the red gold glow of evening sunlight and forced himself into the light doze all soldiers used when necessary. The scream had him jackknifing to a standing position what felt like an instant later-however, one glance at his watch told him it was ten after nine. The house was quiet, peaceful. But for the rapid breathing of a frightened child, and a woman’s soothing murmurs.

“Nightmare?” he asked, after running an automatic security sweep-and letting Nate know things were under control when the other sentinel ran in. As Nate left, Dorian turned back to the room. “Shaya?”

“Yes, a nightmare.” She looked to him with a quiet need in her eyes. He could no more have stopped himself from walking across the room to sink down on the bed beside her than he could’ve stopped breathing. “You want to talk about the dream, K-Man?”

Keenan cuddled deeper into his mom, but nodded. “She’s looking for me.”

“Who?” Dorian asked, though he already knew the answer.

“My mother.”

Dorian saw Ashaya go pale under her dark honey and sunlight skin. “Your mother’s right here.”

“No.” Scowling, the kid shook his head. “My mommy’s right here, but my mother is looking for me.” He emphasized the word very carefully. “She’s doesn’t like me, not like Mommy.”

Dorian figured the boy had confused Amara and Ashaya in his mind, but that didn’t explain the terror emanating from Ashaya. “How do you know she’s looking for you?”

“I can feel her poking at my head.” He frowned. “She can’t come inside me because I’m in your net. But I think she’s seen Mommy.” A jaw-cracking yawn.