Page 65 of You Only Love Twice
"No?"
His hands came to rest on her waist. Gemma stilled, her heart beating a ragged little tattoo in her chest.
"Are you trying to tell me you suffer too?" His breath whispered across the back of her neck. Then soft, dangerous lips trailed along the line of her shoulder.
Gemma closed her eyes and shivered.
"I think you know the answer to that," she breathed.
The softest of kisses painted itself across her neck. The gentle press of his tongue lashed against her pulse. Gemma bit her lip. She could handle what happened this morning. That had been pure frustration. A storm of lust. But this? This sought to ruin her.
His hands stilled on her waist, his lips lifting from her neck.
"Don't you dare stop," she protested, but the second the words spilled from her lips, she knew something was wrong.
Obsidian looked up, a chill expression sliding over his face and his eyes tracking some invisible movement. "There's someone on the roof."
Instantly Gemma stepped out of his reach, danger dampening the sudden flush of heat through her body. "Dhampir? How did they find us?"
"They couldn't have tracked us," he replied, drawing the knife from the sheath at his hip.
No. Notus. But there was someone who could have trackedher. Gemma froze. Oh, shit. She couldn't feel the tracking beacon in the back of her scalp, but every hair along her spine lifted.
COR had come for her.
Her gaze focused, locking on the lethal figure in front of her, her heart turning into a ball of lead.
She stood within a nightmare. All she'd wanted was her freedom, but now she stood on the verge of it. The people she loved would be closing in, and the man she held feelings for would face them.
This didn't end well, no matter which way she looked.
As he'd pointed out, they weren't allies.
And if Malloryn caught a glimpse of him, he wouldn't hesitate to cut Obsidian down.
Gemma's heart started pounding. "We should go out the back."
"I can hear a couple of voices. We don't know how many of them there are." Obsidian strode toward the window on cat-silent feet, bracing his knife along his forearm. "There was no one following us last night, I swear," he murmured, glancing out into the dying sunset.
She had to get him out of here before this confrontation turned deadly. Gemma hauled her boots on, lacing them swiftly as her mind raced. "Either way, I think it best to flee. You don't know how many people you face, and you cannot handle them all at once."
"Here," he said, tossing her one of his knives, and she froze as she caught it, her hand locking with familiarity around the grip. "Now there are two of us. I've seen you in action."
Oh, no. He thought they were working together. She opened her hand around the leather grip, the scent of oiled steel kicking her impulses into overdrive.
He had trusted her enough to give her one of his knives. She felt ill.
A whistle pierced the air. Charlie, from the low fluting sound of it.
"Obsidian," she breathed, trying to catch his attention.
He pressed a gloved finger to his lips, setting his back against the wall beside the window.
"Don't come in!" she screamed, just as a figure swung through the window, spraying glass across the room.
Everything burst into motion.
Obsidian shot her a sharp look, and then he lunged toward the intruder. Charlie rolled across the floor in a tight ball, finding his feet and lashing back with a cutthroat razor.
