Shadow Bound Page 0,95

her, rocking on waves of fire.

She was glowing again—her shadows revealed her as much as they concealed her—impossibly beautiful, magical, and a woman just the same. His woman.

He slid a hand around her hip, reaching deeply between her legs to open her more fully, and drove into her again. And again. The carnal friction was like a match on flint. They ignited.

Talia sensed it coming like a flash on the horizon, a transformative explosion that altered her perception forever. Adam’s layers of self-recrimination, regrets, and grief became transparent, and Talia perceived the reason behind Adam’s unfaltering will.

It was her. He’d do anything for her.

When Adam got out of the shower, Talia was gone. He dressed quickly in black jeans and a long-sleeve tee he’d picked up at a used clothing store outside Grand Central. Time to get going.

His mind was clear, his purpose defined. He hadn’t felt this centered in a long time. Bone tired, yes, but strangely better prepared for having woken Talia.

Talia.

He retrieved the flash drive and note and put them back on the side table, where she would see it. Her future was as secure as he could make it.

Exiting the room, he stuffed the vial of L-pills deeper in his pocket. He peeked into Abigail’s room as he passed her open door, but she wasn’t there. At the bottom of the stairs, he grabbed a kid with jet hair, accented with candy purple streaks.

“Where’s Talia?” Adam demanded.

The dressing room door opened and Zoe emerged. She held a tuxedo jacket out to him by the collar.

“Just in time,” she said. “But then again, I knew you would be.”

“I can’t. I’ve got to go out for a little while.” He pushed past Zoe to have a last word with Talia.

Talia turned at his entrance. All follow-up questions, all his plans, disintegrated as Adam’s heart arrested.

Her hair was a wild spill of white, curling gold over pale, bare shoulders. A black corset cinched her already trim waist to near nothing and did things to her breasts that made him want to drag her back up the stairs again. The long black skirt she wore seemed simple until she angled to check herself nervously in the mirror, and he got a peek at a Victorian bustle in the back. His fingers itched to get under the material and rediscover the satiny texture of the ass it concealed. The pointy toes of her shoes peeking out from the hem were slightly witchy, but all sex.

Talia brought a hand to her narrowed waist. “I shouldn’t have let Zoe talk me into this. She told me that it was appropriate, but I should change. It’s clearly not me.”

Adam’s mouth went dry. “—lovely.” He swallowed deeply and tried again. “You look lovely.”

“She fought me over the hair, but I won,” Zoe said, coming at him again with the damn jacket.

“I like her hair down, too,” Adam murmured. Her ponytails had all but driven him crazy at Segue.

Talia blushed, color flooding over the delicious curves of her cleavage and up to her cheeks. His blood went in a decidedly different direction.

Talia looked regal, every bit the faery princess, but not the kind from mainstream childhood fairy tales. Not even close. Talia was the realization of his fantasies, his darkest dreams. The ones that begged for the Little Death over and over, but with a woman who challenged him mind, body, and soul. She’d done all that, and in that order. If such a thing as soul mates existed, Talia was his. He knew that now.

His appraisal made her black eyes sparkle with pleasure. The sight made him ache somewhere inside not touched by blood or nerves. The intangible part of him that would always be hers.

“Whatever it is can wait.” Zoe’s raised eyebrows and pointed expression conveyed a secret knowledge and heavy threat. The brat obviously knew what he was about and would tattle if he didn’t go along with her. Zoe nudged him with the jacket, and he took it with a meaningful look of his own.

Zoe stuck out her tongue and turned her back on him. “Talia, put on the gloves already.”

Talia lifted a black satin glove, bunched the extended sleeve, and slid her right hand in the sheath, fingers wiggling as they found their places at the end. She pulled the fabric up her white arm, over her elbow.

The sight was both bliss and torture. He wanted to be there when the gloves came back off. Scratch that, he wanted to peel