Cyclone Page 5

  I never wanted to be a leader. I was perfectly happy as second to Twister. Typhoon’s the one who put me in this position.

  Soon enough, however, Typhoon came to see them. His expression was hard but not scowling like Frieda expected. Some of the tension left her shoulders, but she knew better than to allow herself to fall completely at ease. Typhoon glared between her and Stewart for a moment before he gestured for them to sit down. They did so, Frieda sitting on the edge of her chair in case she needed a jump up and protect Stewart… Or stop him from doing something stupid.

  “This is a fine mess you’ve made.”

  Frieda folded her arms and didn’t respond. He didn’t sound angry, which was a good sign. She still didn’t speak, though, waiting for Typhoon to pronounce his judgment. The alpha didn’t look at her or Stewart, instead staring at the far wall with a pinch in his brow. Whether it was to judge their patience or gathering his thoughts, Frieda wasn’t entirely certain.

  Eventually, though, Typhoon blinked, shook his head and glanced at Stewart. “You’re quite lucky. Lieutenant Duster seems to be quite understanding about the whole issue… apparently, he’s seen a few things that have made him wonder about the illegitimacy of our organization for a while… Something about Frieda being too good to be a low-life criminal.”

  Frieda’s cheeks went hot at the knowing glance that Typhoon sent her at that. What? Just because some cop thought she wasn’t completely evil it meant something was going on? As though she’d ever go for somebody like Dust-Face Brad anyway!

  “He has agreed to report a story back to his superiors which is favorable to us… And he won’t be talking about vampires or shifters, either. Not that I blame him on that one. Who would ever believe him?”

  Frieda let herself relax, finally. So that was that! There weren’t going to be any complications with Duster, which was more than she’d expected. With that out of the way, it meant that Stewart’s actions weren’t going to be held against him. She started to smile, but when Typhoon’s gaze hardened and snapped toward her, she tensed again.

  Fuck!

  “You, however… I thought you knew better than this. You are the leader of your crew and their safety should be your number one priority. So tell me why you ended up leading them straight into a trap? You should have known that the cops were onto you. Not only that, but vampires finding out where you’d be? That is sloppy work, Polaris. Sloppy. We have no room for that sort of incompetence in the Brotherhood.”

  Frieda flinched. Of course he’d refer to her by her nickname only when chastising her. She struggled to keep her face blank as she nodded. It was her mistake. If she had had the information that she should have had, then she would have known about the cops and vampires. She wouldn’t have led her people into an obvious trap like that.

  Stewart frowned. He opened his mouth, but Frieda jabbed him in the side with her elbow and shook her head, giving him a fierce glare. He glared right back but closed his mouth again. Frieda let out a slow breath, then turned back to Typhoon.

  “I will get to the bottom of this right away. Find out how the cops and vampires knew where we’d be and what we’d be doing.”

  Typhoon hummed in his throat, then snorted and nodded. “You’d better.”

  He left quickly after that, taking Duster with him. Frieda let out a sigh of relief once she was sure he was well and truly gone. Slumping back in her chair, she passed a hand over her eyes. That was close. Typhoon hadn’t been angry with them, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to hold this against her record. Which was just as well… Maybe she’d be able to convince him to pull up a different leader for the crew.

  Only, she didn’t think she could be second to anybody but Twister, and he wasn’t coming back. Not when his position had been expanded on and he shot up through the ranks.

  It was several minutes that she and Stewart sat in silence before he spoke. “That guy needs to take a chill pill.”

  Frieda snorted on instinct. She couldn’t recall anybody every talking about Typhoon that way before. When she glanced at Stewart, she saw that his face was twisted into a scowl. Part of her glowed at the concern he was showing toward her, but a bit of anxiety rose up in her at his words.

  “He’s right, though.”

  His head whipped around, and his mouth opened angrily.

  “I should have been more careful. If the cops learned what we were planning on doing this time, they can find out what we’re doing next time. Not to mention the danger that vampires pose. They’re getting bolder, to attack us in broad daylight. They must be planning something big…” She trailed off, then shook her head. “But that is Typhoon’s job to handle.”

  “He didn’t have to attack you like he did.”

  “Attack?” Stewart nodded, but Frieda laughed. “That wasn’t an attack, Stewart. That was barely a tongue-lashing. I’ve seen a lot worse when it comes to Typhoon. He doesn’t hold back on letting you know when you’ve screwed up, but this? This was barely a slap on the wrist.”

  “He insinuated that he’d kick you out of the Brotherhood for it. It’s not your fault, there has to be some sort of leak or—”

  Frieda held up her hand. “If there is a leak, it’s my job to find it before it leaks. Certainly before we end up in this bad a situation.”

  Stewart scowled. He didn’t look convinced. Frieda looped her arm around his. She had been far harsher with him than Typhoon had been with her, and yet he was more upset about Typhoon. She felt herself smiling, even though she knew that it wasn't really the time. She couldn't help it. He was such a sweet guy.

  “All Typhoon did was to remind me of what I already knew. No harm, no foul.”

  Stewart's scowl deepened. He folded his arms, difficult because Frieda didn’t release him, and leaned his head back. “I was the one who dashed into the middle of vampires. But he didn't even mention that.”

  “He did.” Frieda arched a brow. “He told you you were lucky that Duster agreed to tell things our way.”

  “So, when's the other shoe gonna drop? That's not going to be all that happens… is it?”

  “I imagine it will be. Typhoon isn't the type to leave things unsaid.”

  Frieda felt the tension slowly leave Stewart’s body. He relaxed against her and dropped his head to her shoulder. The move was so familiar that Frieda stroked her fingers through his hair before suddenly being reminded of that night in the forest… She inhaled sharply as heat swirled in her body. Maybe it was the relief of Typhoon's lack of anger... maybe it was the adrenaline finally fading… Maybe it was long-suppressed desires merely refusing to be suppressed any longer. She swallowed hard. If she allowed things to go there, would she regret it?

  She had been regretting not going there ever since the forest… she knew if she didn't make a move she would regret it… it just seemed like every time there was a possibility, she froze with fear of the maybes. Maybe it wouldn't live up to expectations. Maybe it would change their relationship too much. Maybe it would be better off being left unsaid and undone…

  She was so wrapped up in the confused haze of desire and uncertainty that she missed his next words. “What?”

  “I said, does that count for you, too? He's not going to charge back in here and tell you that he's decided you're out? He won't just take everything away from you?”

  “No,” Frieda said firmly. “And if it helps, he's not going to do that to you, either. I know how much this means to you. And… while we're talking about it… I'm sorry for blowing up at you earlier. I shouldn't have called you an idiot. What you did, you did for the good of the Brotherhood. You risked your life on the chance that we were going to be able to get Duster to side with us. So, thank you. And I'm sorry for what I said.”

  Stewart tilted his head, still on her shoulder but now in a position where she could see his smirk. “What's this? Polaris apologizing to one of her underlings? Careful, I might start thinking I'm special.”

  Frieda shoved him playfully. “Smart as
s.”

  “Why, my ass is very smart, thank you.” He winked at her, then brushed a tendril of hair from her face. “So, I guess that’s the end of our first mission, huh? Other than me recklessly endangering my life and shifting far too much in a short period of time, how did I do?”

  Frieda considered him for a moment. Normally when she had new recruits joining her team, she didn’t let on to them how they did or where they stood in her ranking. And truth be told, she knew that the fact she knew so much about what Stewart wanted out of this had biased her, even if she worked hard not to let it.

  Then again, she always made a point of getting to know the recruits and what their goals were. She patted his cheek and pulled away. “Not telling you that, Cyclone. Typhoon will get my report after the trial period is over. Nobody gets to know what I have to say before that. Got it, buster?”

  “Buster?” Stewart frowned slightly. “Since when have I been a ‘buster’? Is this punishment for not listening to you?”

  “Maybe,” she teased, batting her eyes at him. “But you know what? I like it. I think I’m going to start calling you buster more often, buster. It’s got a great ring to it.”

  “Frieda—”

  “I’m not telling you.” She shook her head firmly. “Now. Since you’ve had your first mission, I want to get to know you a little better. I do this with all the new recruits, so don’t feel self-conscious.” Saying the words she said to all the recruits helped calm her. The heat still burned in her core, but she was able to ignore it. This was Stewart. She wasn’t going to throw herself at him, especially not after the way she had made him cool his heels when he first shifted. “Tell me a little about yourself. Why did you join the Brotherhood?”

  Stewart arched a brow at her. “You know why.”

  “Humor me.”

  Stewart let out a deep breath. He looked on the verge of refusing but eventually shrugged. “I’ve known about the Savage Brotherhood ever since I was a kid. I learned about them when a member of the Brotherhood came and saved me, Roxy and Andy from the vampire that killed our parents. Ever since then, I’ve wanted to be part of it. Andy might think it’s because I want to be like him, and that might be a part of it. Andy’s the best brother I could ask for and was more like a father to me in a lot of ways. But really, it’s more for Roxy. She gave up so much to keep Andy and I fed and housed. More than she lets on, I know. But I know she won’t let me repay her, not financially. And besides that, there really isn’t anything I could do to repay everything she’s given me. But as a member of the Brotherhood… I can fight vampires. I can try to stop other kids from going through what we went through. I can make the world a little safer, for her and for my nieces and nephews.”

  He’d told her this more or less ever since they met when he’d rant about being a human looking in from the outside. Not close enough to make real change, but not so far that he was out of danger, either. And as she had so often done during those times when she listened to him and ached to help, she slipped her hand into his. He squeezed it, his thumb gently coasting over the back of her hand.

  Her skin tingled, and she found herself wanting to say or do something, anything, to distract herself from the pleasant images that started to circulate in her brain.

  “Did I ever tell you why I joined the Brotherhood?”

  Stewart nodded. “But you can tell me again.”

  Frieda shook her head, her gaze darkening as the memories came back. “My brother was a member. He’d joined for the glory, the excitement, and the money. He thought regular life was far too boring, and so he came hoping for something that would put his skills to the test. Well, he told me straight away that there were vampires. He didn’t believe in keeping secrets from me, and he did everything he could to protect me. That meant making sure I knew what I was up against in life.”

  Stewart’s thumb started to roll in circles a little higher, over her wrist.

  “My reasons for joining aren’t as noble as yours. They’re not about protecting people or payback. Truthfully, I joined because it seemed like the only thing to do after he died.” Frieda shook her head and snorted. “He was an idiot, too. Got himself killed being an idiot. It wasn’t even against vampires. Maybe it’d hurt less if it had been. But in the end… it was a routine mission. He died… on a routine mission. Nobody should have died. They were robbing a bank, so there was danger there, but the security guard had willingly stepped down, so long as they promised not to hurt anybody.”

  Stewart’s fingers tightened. “And he taunted the guard, until the guard snapped.”

  “Yeah.” She shook her head and looked away. “It was his own damn fault. After his death, I was so mad at him. But I missed him. So, I decided to join up. I thought in some strange way it’d keep him close to me. Or maybe I did it because I knew if he hadn’t died, he never would have let me. Too dangerous. So, there you have it. I joined for uncertain reasons. But I’ve found my place among the Brotherhood. Fighting vampires has a certain feeling of accomplishment that comes with it.”

  “Not to mention you get to run with all these handsome motherfuckers,” Stewart added unexpectedly. “I bet you have your pick.”

  Frieda’s mouth went dry as she met his gaze and saw the desire in it. She swallowed hard. “Well… that’s true enough.”

  “And here’s one more. That you can take or leave.” He moved quickly, as though to prevent himself from losing his nerve. He caught her face in his hands and kissed her, deep and passionate. Desire flared to life through her body. Her core lit on fire as she pulled him closer, closing her eyes as she enjoyed every sensation he sent spiraling through her body.

  Chapter Seven

  Cyclone

  Stewart would never know how they managed to make it back to his apartment. All he remembered from the time he kissed Frieda to when he slammed the door shut behind their bodies was the taste of her lips. The smell of her skin. The way her body pressed against him. The pressure inside his pants that was simply too much to resist.

  Briefly, it crossed his mind that he probably ought to tidy a little bit, but that thought went flying when Frieda pushed him down on the couch and kicked the coffee table out of their way. Her hands flew over his leather, undoing each of the buttons before she pushed it off his shoulders. His own hands roamed her body. He wanted to feel every inch of her and was too impatient to wait for her to undress before he started.

  “Oh, God!” Frieda let her head fall back when he started kissing her neck while pushing his hands under her shirt. “Fuck! Why did I take so long to start this?”

  “You start?” Stewart chuckled into her skin as his tongue flicked over her pulse. “Are you kidding me? You want to take credit for my moves now? What are you, some sort of glory hog?”

  Frieda tugged at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up to his armpits. Callouses snagged against his skin as she explored his torso, pulling away from his lips on her neck only long enough so she could bend down and begin to kiss and lick his chest.

  “Good God,” Stewart moaned, this time letting his head fall back. One of her hands pushed between his legs and massaged gently while the other started to work on his belt. “You’ve got a wicked tongue.”

  Frieda chuckled. Stewart let his eyes slide shut. He was actually throbbing under her touch, desperate to get free and find his way into her. One of his hands slid into her hair. He didn’t want to talk, he didn’t want to stay still. He wanted to turn her over and claim her every way that was possible. His impatience burned in his gut, but he forced himself to let her do as she wished.

  When she stopped, he groaned with dismay.

  “Before we go any further,” she said, looking up at him, “I need to know. You want this?”

  “God, Frieda!” Stewart shook his head in frustration. “How can you even ask that? You’ve got the evidence that I want you right there in your hands!”

  She giggled, but her expression soon grew sober. “You know what I mean, Stewart. This isn’t just a
lust thing, right? It’s not two buddies deciding that fucking is a good pastime when they’re bored… right? It’s not going to replace us watching old movies together, or going to the beach or—”

  “No.” His voice was gravelly as he met her gaze. “That will never change. You are more than a fuck buddy, Frieda. And I’m a little insulted you would think so little of me.”

  “Well, when you put it that way… I guess I owe you an apology.” Her hand moved again, slowly, over his clothed cock.

  Stewart had a reply to that on the tip of his tongue, but it died away into a strangled moan as she undid his jeans and pulled them down to his knees. He was already hardened from her touch, and he stiffened even more when she bent over. Her lips grazed his head and her tongue flicked out, moving down his shaft. His one hand still clung to her hair, but he released her and fisted his hands at his sides. He didn’t want to jerk and hurt her.

  One of her hands moved up and down his inner thigh while the other continued to explore his torso, coasting over the contours of his muscles. He allowed his eyes to close, his hips jerking up rhythmically. When Frieda took him into her mouth, her tongue circling as she did so, both of her hands came to his hips and pressed him down firmly.

  “Fuck!” Stewart gasped as she sucked, lightly at first but with increasing pressure. The pressure was almost too much to bear. He screwed his eyes tightly as she moved her head up and down, making greedy little slurping noises. His abdomen twitched with his building pleasure and soon he was breathing through clenched teeth.

  Frieda showed no signs of letting up on him. She continued to suck his cock, easing him a little deeper every time her head went down. Part of Stewart never wanted this to end, to be inside of her mouth, to feel the gentle scrape of her teeth over his sensitive flesh. But another, larger part of him knew that he wasn’t going to last much longer… and he wanted something far better with her.

  “Fuck,” he grunted again.