The Hounds of Devotion Page 3

  “I worry too, you know,” I said. “About you and the others—about the danger I’m putting you in getting you involved in this mess with the shrouded folk. You’ve only scratched the surface of the sorts of horrors they enjoy.”

  “You focus on keeping yourself safe,” Bash said firmly. “Let us decide for ourselves what we can handle—and I think we can handle a lot.”

  I gave him a crooked grin. “Do you want me to send them off or keep them a part of this, then? You can’t have it both ways.”

  “Maybe not. I reserve the right to grumble about them anyway.”

  “Fair enough.” His musky smell filled my lungs with my next breath, and I decided I could give him a larger show of devotion than simple words. I set my hand on his thigh and let my smile turn coy. “I can tell you that you’re the only one I’d trust to stay steady while I do this.”

  “Do wha—fuck.” His voice dropped to a whisper with the curse as my fingers brushed over his cock through his pants. With another stroke, he was already getting hard, swelling and stiffening at my touch.

  The thrill made my smile stretch wider. Bash was the most unflappable person I’d ever met. I knew he could keep enough of his attention on the road even during my attentions to avoid a crash. But damn if it didn’t turn me on a hundredfold to know how much of a thrill I could give him.

  I gripped him harder, and he swallowed audibly, his gaze trained straight ahead. He shifted a couple inches lower in his seat to give me a better angle for access. I took advantage of the new position to pop open his fly. My hand delved beneath the fabric to uncover his rigid length, and Bash let out a low groan.

  “There are still plenty of things we can do, just the two of us,” I murmured, clicking open my seatbelt. Then I bent over and slicked my tongue around the head of his cock.

  “God, Mori,” Bash said in a ragged voice. Strength radiated all through his well-built body. I took him all the way into my mouth, reveling in the rough sound he made, in the slight buck of his hips toward me.

  There’d been a time when I’d been afraid to give in to my attraction to Bash, even after I’d been sure he returned it. I’d only ever called on physical intimacy as one tool in my repertoire for getting what I wanted. I’d been afraid I might end up using him rather than being a real partner to him, falling into old habits. But in a moment like this, I knew there was no intention in me other than to show him just how happy I was to have him in my life.

  The engine thrummed, and I moved my mouth in time, swirling my tongue over his silky skin and gripping the base of his cock. The salty, musky flavor of him flooded my mouth. I sucked him harder, and his elbow quivered where he’d let it rest lightly on my shoulder. With the pump of my hand and a swift flick across his tip, his breath hitched.

  Heat pooled between my own legs. I pressed my thighs together as I took Bash down to the back of my throat. There’d be plenty of time to think about my own pleasure after I’d given him every bit I—

  Bash’s arm dropped abruptly, shielding my head as he yanked the wheel with his other hand. With a screech of tires, he pulled the car onto the shoulder. As I raised my head in confusion, he slammed on the parking brake and shoved his seat back. Then he tugged me all the way onto him, pulling my mouth to his.

  Our lips collided in a mad crash. He tangled his fingers in my hair, tilting my head so he could kiss me even more deeply, while his other hand wrenched up my skirt and made short work of my panties. He caressed his thumb over my clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through me, and then dipped lower. At the slickness that spoke of my own desire, he growled against my mouth.

  “If I’m going to come inside you, it’s going to be here,” he said, cupping my sex.

  I gasped my giddy agreement. “Do you have—”

  “I’ve decided to always be prepared.” He dug a foil packet out of his pocket and ripped it open at lightning speed. I kissed him again, my tongue teasing over his, as he readied himself. The second I felt his hand draw back, I gripped him like I had when I’d been pleasuring him earlier and lowered myself onto his cock.

  That first burn of bliss as he filled me was always a rush. Bash groaned again and kissed me with even more fervor. He’d almost been at the point of release already, and it didn’t take more than a few thrusts to get me close too.

  I fumbled for the seat control and tipped it all the way back so he was nearly lying down. As I braced my hands on either side, rocking up and down over him, he massaged my breasts through my blouse. Pleasure shot through my chest to meet the wave rising from my core.

  The first time we’d had sex, he’d let me have my fun on top and then rolled me over to take charge. Today, he let me set the pace the whole way through. As the bliss rushed higher and my eyes started to roll back, his breath broke into panting, but he didn’t make the slightest move toward unseating me.

  That realization tipped me over the edge. As I careened into ecstasy, I tightened the muscles inside me to squeeze him harder. Bash grunted and pumped up to meet me, spilling himself alongside my peak.

  I sagged over him, resting my forehead against his, and he gave me the most brilliant grin I’d ever seen cross his face. My heart sang and ached at the same time.

  He was the most unflappable man I’d ever met, but he was willing to hand all control over to me. It was a little scary, no matter what he said. He’d given himself over to me completely in so many ways.

  I had to make sure he never regretted it.

  Chapter Four

  Garrett

  There were some things I loved about Scotland Yard. It was one place that was truly my own, for example. No matter how many cases Sherlock and John had a hand—or even the lion’s share—in solving, I had my badge and they didn’t. I’d put in the time and training to earn a spot here, and that meant something. For the most part, the people here believed in bringing crooks to justice by following the letter as well as the intention of the law, with a lot less of the moral blurring that the independent detectives dabbled in.

  That said, sometimes I wished the place were a little less rigid and conformist—and that so many of my colleagues, stung by the fact that I’d been promoted ahead of them, weren’t so eager to point out any area where I’d misstepped.

  Thompson was still friendly enough, but I’d seen that jealous gleam in his eyes now and then, getting starker with each year that passed while he was still only detective constable. He ambled over to my desk as I finished up my phone call, his doughy face set with anticipation. My stomach twisted.

  “Perfect,” I said to the inspector on the other end. “It sounds like you’ve got everything in order there. I’m glad we could help.”

  Thompson propped himself against the side of my desk as I hung up. “Were you on the phone with Cumbria again?”

  “Just passing on a few final details,” I said briskly. “My informant heard a couple more things I thought they’d find useful in their sting operation.”

  “Seems like you’ve been spending more time fighting their crimes for them than working on troubles here in London.” He straightened up and gave me a playful cuff to the shoulder. “Remember your holiday is over, Lestrade. We need you on the cases here. I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what the chief wants to talk to you about.”

  “He asked to see me?” Damn. I’d hoped I could sail through this initial scheme without involving any of my higher-ups.

  Thompson motioned toward the chief’s office with a jab of his thumb. “He said you should head on in as soon as you were off the phone.”

  Well, the mission I’d gotten myself wrapped up in was only going to get more complicated as we continued rooting out Jemma’s cult. I couldn’t even say it was Jemma’s mission now. From what I’d seen of her shrouded folk, the creatures stirred up far more violence and horror than any human criminal I’d ever encountered. I’d gone into this line of work to make a difference for good in the world. I couldn’t have asked for a clearer opportunity.

  And if
I also found it hard to walk away from the woman who both fascinated and unnerved me, no one else needed to know that part of the story.

  Chief Higgins looked up from the report on his desk as I stepped into the office. He gestured for me to close the door. He’d been the chief as long as I’d worked at Scotland Yard, but he looked more the stereotypical brute enforcer than an administrative type, built like an ox, his ginger curls cropped close to his head. He was almost always frowning. You basically had to hang the moon—and the perpetrator of a decades-old unsolved case—before the man would crack a smile.

  “Lestrade,” he said. “I gather you’ve been coordinating rather a lot with the Cumbria Constabulary in the last few days.”

  “I have, sir,” I said with a respectful bob of my head. The chief might be dour-faced most of the time, but in my experience, he was generally even-handed. “I came across information regarding a crime that I felt they should be aware of.”

  “You seem to have taken a particular interest in that crime. Is there some sort of personal stake I should be aware of?”

  The memory of Jemma pressed up against me, her gasp in my ear, flickered through my mind with a flush of heat I managed to suppress. This was the perfect opening to start warming the chief up to the sort of cases I hoped to continue pursuing from my position here.

  “Not personal,” I said. “But I do feel a sort of responsibility. As the details came together, I realized this case appears to connect to that crime Holmes and I ended up investigating during our travels.”

  “Just like the both of you to go on vacation and end up working harder than ever,” Higgins muttered. “What was that again—a kidnapping?”

  I hadn’t gone into much detail about our exploits in Croatia with the department on my return, wanting to wait for the most strategic timing. This would appear to be it.

  “We were looking into a missing persons case,” I said, “but we ended up uncovering a far bigger problem. There was a cult operating in an area of wilderness near the coast—they’d been responsible for the murder of multiple children as well as more minor crimes like thefts.”

  The chief sat up straighter at my words. “A cult murdering children? That sounds like something out of a penny thriller.”

  “I know. I wish it hadn’t been real.” I still did. The thought of the evidence we’d uncovered about the commune’s activities sent a chill through me even now.

  “How does that relate to this crime in the Lake District?”

  “We’ve seen a few similar patterns, sir. Certain types of thefts at a certain frequency, unusual disturbances in the same general area… We have reason to believe that the sect we stumbled on in Croatia was only one pocket of the cult, not the entire thing. Now Holmes and I suspect there may be at least one sect of the same group here in England.”

  Higgins’ frown pulled deeper. “I can see why you’d have taken an interest, then. Not the sort of types we want in this country, that’s for sure. Are there any signs we should keep an eye out for here in the city?”

  “Not as far as I know yet,” I said. “They seem to prefer to live in isolation. If something comes up, though, I’ll let you know.”

  We could eventually let police departments all across the world know, couldn’t we? Why should the five of us be the only ones tracking down signs of the cult? The clues were simple enough to follow once you were familiar with the pattern.

  Once we took down this sect here on home ground—once we’d proven they had a presence everywhere from here to Croatia—those other departments would have to take notice. We could send out briefs all over the place, and they’d do most of our work for us.

  Of course, we couldn’t trust that they’d all take the same sort of care that Jemma wanted. Simply sending the cultists on the run wouldn’t do the job, from what she’d said—they needed to be caught and confined. But perhaps we could come up with strategies for ensuring the right approach was taken even if we weren’t directly involved. Surely she didn’t expect to personally tackle every single commune of the dozens or even hundreds she’d indicated might exist?

  “Well,” the chief said. “I’m glad you’re keeping an ear to the ground on this subject. It does your policing instincts credit.”

  I couldn’t stop a smile from springing to my lips at the praise, which Higgins doled out only sparingly. I might have proven myself quite a bit by earning the position of detective inspector at a younger age than anyone else currently working here had, but this was an entirely different level of policing. My scope had shifted from merely the city to a threat that encompassed the world—and I was bringing Scotland Yard on board with it.

  At least, I’d made a small step toward bringing the Yard on board. Higgins followed up his praise with a firm stare. “It sounds as though you’ve done all you can for Cumbria now. I want your focus back on your regular duties from here on. We have no shortage of our own cases that need tending to.”

  “Yes,” I said, my smile faltering. “Absolutely. I was just looking through the Shawfend file a few minutes ago, actually.”

  “See if you can’t crack that one, then. And feel free to rope Holmes in if you take a mind to. Heaven knows if you can catch his interest with a crime, he’ll find his way to the answer faster than any of us could.”

  My tone flattened slightly. “Yes. I’m not sure it’s quite unusual enough to pique his interest. I can sort it out without the extra help.”

  “I know you can,” the chief said, easing the sting of his earlier remark. “Well, what are you waiting for? Get on with it.”

  He sent me from his office with a shooing motion. I managed not to grimace as I headed out. Several pairs of eyes watched me return to my desk. A prickle ran down my back.

  There was taking policing to a higher level and tackling widespread brutality, and then there was looking like an obsessed lunatic. I was going to have to be careful I didn’t stray into the latter territory.

  There was so much I couldn’t tell anyone here: not my colleagues, not the chief. Keeping the supernatural elements they’d never believe—that I barely believed even having experienced them directly—a secret was only going to get harder as the five of us dug deeper into this hornets’ nest. I’d often prided myself on being straightforward, a man you could assume would cut to the chase. My association with Jemma had turned me into a conspirator.

  All the same, the current London cases were hardly gripping enough to hold my attention all that well when I had demonic beings and murderous cults on the brain. I took some notes and talked to the constable who’d interviewed a couple of the witnesses, and then set off to consider the scene of the robbery myself. By the time my shift was over, I was itching to be off in the Lake District with the others.

  They were meant to be closing in on the commune there tonight, and I couldn’t have any direct part in it. I’d already stretched the department’s patience with my extended vacation.

  My phone rang just as I came into my flat. I glanced at the number with a jolt of excitement that quickly faded.

  “Hello, Mum,” I said as I answered it.

  My mother’s high voice carried through the line. “Garrett! I hope I’m not interrupting anything. I know how busy you get.”

  “I’m done work for the day,” I told her, sinking down onto my sofa—which was starting to get rather threadbare in spots, I noticed. I really ought to find the time to go shopping for a new one. “How are you?”

  She rambled on for a few minutes about her garden, her book club, and the nurse at her medical practice, and I hummed encouragingly at appropriate moments. I’d never totally felt like a part of the Lestrade family, if I was being honest. Even to look at the lot of us, you’d see me as cut from a different cloth. My parents and older brothers were all blond and brighter eyed, and they’d gravitated toward the sorts of professions that elegant people at the dinner parties they often held would exclaim admiringly over.

  I’d turned out darker and wiry and often sullen. I
hadn’t excelled in school. No one in the house had really known what to do with me. And I’d felt it, so deeply something sharp still stirred inside me if I let myself linger on that thought too long.

  “Anyway,” Mum said finally, “we were thinking we’d have all of you over the weekend after next for dinner. Can you make it on the Saturday?”

  It took me a second to catch up. “All of us?”

  “You and your brothers,” she said in a familiar faintly exasperated tone.

  “Oh. Yes—yes, I should be able to manage that.”

  Even as I said the words, my heart was sinking. It was ridiculous. Any wrongs I’d done were well over a decade ago. None of my brothers had any idea I’d ever caused them any harm with my childhood pranks anyway.

  I knew, though. I knew they’d been not so much pranks but malicious acts propelled by jealousy. I’d been as bad as the colleagues who watched my moves in the office so carefully.

  That was why I worked so bloody hard, wasn’t it? Surely I’d made enough amends to counterbalance the pain I’d brought into the world by now.

  And if I hadn’t, destroying a realm’s worth of demons should do the trick all right.

  Chapter Five

  Jemma

  The gold cuff formed a constant pressure around my thigh as Bash and I crept through the dark forest. The metal artifact wasn’t diminishing my body the way it had when I’d been wearing it for weeks before, but the feel of it summoned the memory of the shocks of pain and the fading of my skin.

  Thank goodness for Sherlock’s coolheadedness in grabbing the pieces, because it would keep me undetected by our supernatural foes during our schemes, but I couldn’t wait to take it off. I didn’t expect any of the folk to be prowling around at night, when their powers in this world were at their weakest, but I wasn’t taking any chances.