Mélisande Smith (Mercy) személy
– DarkRiver Sentinel
– became a Sentinel at 26
– the only female Sentinel
– one of the highest ranking members of either DarkRiver or SnowDancer
– real name Melisande
– best friend of Dorian Christensen
– entered and won a bikini contest as a teenager
– spent a couple of years in medical school
– works for a DarkRiver / SnowDancer funded communications network
– fiery and passionate
– fit, lethal, and able to take down most men twice her size
– tall and shapely, with waist length red hair, golden eyes
– rich cream skin with a hint of gold
– mate of Riley Kincaid
“Why does he look like he swallowed raw eggs?” Mercy asked Sascha, after she found her alpha’s mate in front of said brig. One cell held wolf juveniles, the other, Jon. Now that she thought about it, every single miscreant looked prune faced. “What did you do to all of them?”
Sascha gave her a beatific smile as they walked out into the corridor and began to head south. “They had to say one nice thing about each other. Jon had to say a nice thing about every single wolf he dusted with that powder.”
Mercy’s leopard grinned. “I like this new evil side of you.”
“I had wild monkey sex with Riley.” The speed with which it came out told her, her subconscious had simply been waiting for the chance.
Sascha almost tripped over her own feet. “Oh.” A pause as she glanced around the corridor and lowered her voice. “Lucas mentioned it but . . . really? You and Riley?”
“Oh, yeah.” Mercy rubbed her face. “I can’t believe I just told you. It means I’m thinking of doing it again.”
“Was it good?” Sascha slapped a hand over her mouth, cardinal eyes wide with mortification. “I’ve been living too long with cats. That was a horribly nosy question.”
“Keep your shirt on next time,” she muttered to Riley, realizing the implication of her statement an instant too late.
“Keep your claws in . . . no, don’t. I liked it.” A pause. “Kitty.”
Vigyázat! Felnőtt tartalom.
“I don’t need a mate,” she muttered, staring up at the bright circle of the early autumn moon. “But can’t you send me a nice, sexy, strong male to dance with? Pretty please?” She hadn’t had a lover for close to eight months now, and it was starting to hurt on every level. “He doesn’t even have to be smart, just good between the sheets.” Good enough to unsnap the tension in her body, allow her to function again.
Because sex wasn’t simply about pleasure for a cat like her—it was about affection, about trust, about everything good. “Though right this second, I’d take plain old hot sex.” That was when Riley walked out of the shadows. “Got an itch, kitty?”
“So what, you followed me hoping I’d lower my standards and sleep with a wolf ?” She intentionally made “wolf” sound about as appetizing as “reptile.”
Riley’s jaw tightened under a shadow of stubble a shade darker than the deep chestnut of his hair. “You want to claw at me, kitty-cat? Come on.”
Her hands clenched. She really wasn’t this much of a bitch. But goddamn Riley had a way of lighting her fuse. “Sorry, I don’t beat defenseless puppies.”
[Lucas]“Riley’s got some interesting marks on his back, and you’re not touch-hungry all of a sudden. And is that a bite I see on your neck?”
“What’s one got to do with the other?” She[Mercy] tried to brazen it out, but couldn’t stop herself from sweeping her hair around to hide the incriminating mark. Of course Riley had to bite her somewhere obvious—it was exactly the sort of thing dominant males loved to do, the first stage in claiming a female for their own.
Lucas’s lips curved, the savage markings on his face—four jagged lines, like the claw marks of some great beast—standing out in stark relief. “Dorian’s going to love this.”
She glared. “I swear to God, you tell him, and I’ll”—what the hell could you threaten an alpha with?—“I’ll tell Hawke you want to go on daily bonding runs with him.”
Lucas didn’t stop grinning, but said, “That’s just mean, Mercy.” He glanced over her shoulder. “But if you don’t want anyone else to know, get Riley a T-shirt.”
“Watch it, Carrot[Mercy],” he[Dorian] said, then chuckled. “I’m handing things back to Shaya—Keenan says I’m missing the best part of today’s episode.”
The comm filled with Ashaya’s face again, her curls looking wilder than before. “What’ve you been doing?” Mercy asked with a grin.
Ashaya blushed. “Let’s say Blondie is a fast mover.” Any lingering concern Mercy might’ve had for Dorian disappeared. “I’ll be by in, say, two hours? That okay?”
“We’ll probably still be curled up in bed, watching cartoons.” Her eyes filled with affection. “My mate and son have discovered a mutual love of superheroes and breakfast in bed. They’re determined to convert me.”
“Hey.” Bas squeezed her shoulder. “Where did you go?”
She glanced ahead to where Grey and Sage were strolling, checking out the window displays in the adjacent shops. “I’m dealing with stuff.”
A silky pause. “What’s his name?”
“As if I’d tell you.”
“You chased off my last girlfriend.”
“She was a hyena.” Not literally, but in heart. “Wanted you for your money.” Bas was smart, crazy smart. He made money on the stock market simply by breathing. Which was why he was in charge of DarkRiver’s financial assets.
“My ego bleeds.” A hand rubbing pitifully over his chest.
“We’re going to be wiping up blood for weeks, it’s so colossal.”
“Don’t ‘Bas’ me. You might be able to control Grey and Sage but don’t even try it with me.”
She glared at him. “This is my business.” She trusted Riley not to hurt her brothers, but a lot could go wrong when men got stupid—especially when those men had claws and teeth meant for hunting prey.
“Should’ve thought of that before you told my ex -girlfriend I eat live kittens for breakfast.” A tiny twinge of guilt. Then the cat wondered what Riley would think of her last successful “shoo-away.”
“Who knew she’d believe me?”
“Oh no? When you ‘accidentally’ opened the cupboard to expose my ‘kitten cage’ full of the poor, sad kitties I was going to snack on?”
“How was your nap, kitty?”
She nipped him on the chin. “Don’t push your luck, Kincaid.” His lashes lifted, to reveal warm brown eyes full of languor. “You’re purring.”
“Yeah, so?” She dared him to make something of it.
Of course, since it was Riley, he did. “So I made you purr.” A smug smile.
She frowned. “This is now officially a two-night stand.”
“It’s not night.” He kept stroking her back.
His big, deliciously callused hand felt so good on her that she almost sighed. “You know what I mean.”
“Why?” The lazy lover was rapidly being replaced by the Riley she knew and . . . lived to irritate.
“Okay,” she said, “maybe you’re not the spawn of Satan as I originally thought—”
“But”—she glared at him for the interruption—“you’d be hell to be in a relationship with. HELL. In capital letters.”
Riley stirred beside her. “You need us the rest of the day?”
It was Lucas who answered. “No. Go . . . play.”
Hawke’s grim look turned wolf-wicked as Mercy narrowed her eyes at her alpha and left the room. She felt Riley exit beside her, though he didn’t say a word until they were back in the main corridors. “I guess the secret’s out.”
“What’re you talking about?” she said, the devil in her taking over. Seeing that bloody, broken body had been the final straw—she needed to decompress. And what better way than by teasing Riley?
“You,” he said, his voice dropping as she stopped and turned to face him, “and me.” (…)
“Don’t flatter yourself.” She shoved her hands into the back pockets of her jeans and rocked back on her heels, decision made. Excitement was a taut bow inside her as she said, “I had an itch. You scratched it. End of story.” A low growl that made her thighs clench. But she smiled and wiggled her fingers. “See ya later, wolfie.”