Chapter Three – Arabella
Arabella stuffed her phone into her pocket as she stepped into the elevator, attempting to calm herself. Her usual early-morning jog through the peaceful forest floor had been interrupted by Kennedy greeting her on the path – as if she hadn't clearly been told to stay away from the Shifter settlement until it was time to put the plan into action. If Kennedy blew this mission . . .
She shook her head as the elevator took her up to the treehouse. If necessary, she would inform Grayson that there was a strange woman hanging around and chase Kennedy off that way. It wasn't like she owed her 'sister' any loyalty.
The elevator slid to a smooth stop. Arabella stepped out and pressed her thumb to the scanner to allow her entrance to the house. Security wasn't the tightest she had ever seen, but it wasn't just a trifle, either. There were cameras all along the base of the tree, in the elevator, and pointed at various places at tree-level. It wouldn’t be impossible to take the kids from their home, but it would be easier if she was able to arrange with Grayson to take them somewhere else, like the zoo or the library, and have them kidnapped from there.
The kidnapping was what Kennedy wanted to discuss. She didn't see why Arabella couldn't just grab them and leave, but it was trickier than that. For starters, traumatizing the children was as good as signing a death warrant. If the twins were returned to their father with PTSD, he'd hunt down and kill everyone involved. And then, of course, she didn't want to be connected to the kidnapping, either. The most successful missions were when there was someone on the inside, and she intended to be that someone.
When she green-lighted the kidnapping, she wanted to remain involved on this side, to push Grayson to do what they needed him to do and to steer the police investigation away from where it needed to be.
A scowl crossed her face as she entered the house. She was going to have to be shot. Again. Nothing evoked a mark's sympathy more than seeing a wounded woman. It wouldn't be the first time she had been shot and with the organization's plastic surgeons the scars were easy to remove, but it was the actual getting shot that she disliked. The pain and injury, not to mention the risk of infection, put her at a disadvantage. If there was one thing she hated, it was being vulnerable.
Although it would be worth being shot a dozen times if it meant she could be free from this awful life. Maybe, if she found the right man, she could even be a mother eventually.
Arabella shook off the thought. There was no way that a woman like her could be a mother. The organization had stolen that possibility from her.
She headed for the kitchen, intending to start breakfast for Grayson – because building his trust was a necessity, not because she enjoyed the smile he gave her when he saw the food waiting for him, or the sparkle in his eyes when he teased her about being the perfect housewife – when all hell broke loose.
It started with a single cry that rose to a howl and ended with a second small voice sobbing. Arabella hurried for the twins' room. She entered to see Hudson sitting on the floor, his hands pressed over his ears, his small face twisted up and red as he screamed. Olivia stood on her bed, shaking the headboard. A long howl echoed from her mouth as well as smoke and flame. Her pajamas were torn in two as a pair of stubby wings sprouted from her back and her skin took on a pearly-pink glittery tone.
"Olivia, stop," Arabella called. She hurried past Hudson and grabbed a blanket, smothering a small fire that was once a wooden horse.
The little girl screamed at her and kicked the bed. Arabella reached for her as another burst of red-yellow flame burst from Olivia's mouth. The heat seared over her skin, sending her nerve endings into overdrive. The smell of singed hair filled the room. Arabella pulled back, pressing her lips together to stop the instinctive scream.
Hudson's cries reached a high-pitched crescendo. Tears poured down his little face, his eyes turning to a blue-green color. He was about to Shift, too.
Grayson ran into the room, half-dressed, shaving cream all over his face. He took one look and swooped to Olivia. He seized her around her waist and lifted her from the bed before she could do any more damage, then cradled her against his chest. Arabella scrambled over to Hudson and pulled him into her arms.
"It's okay, it's okay," she said. "Are you hurt?"
A quick look showed that he wasn't, but he didn't quiet. Arabella rocked him as he dug his hands into her shirt and buried his face into her shoulder. She glanced up at Grayson. Would he think that she had done something to his children? He rubbed Olivia's back as she alternatively threw her arms around his neck and kicked him in the stomach.
"Mama!" the little girl cried. "I wan' Mama!"
"I know." Grayson's voice broke as he rocked her. "I know, sweetheart. But Mama isn't here anymore."
Olivia hit him with a closed fist. "I's saw her! She's stood overs me and was singing. Then I's open my eyes and she gone."
Arabella nearly gasped. Had she been dreaming of her mother? It had been a year since Christine Alexander died. How could Olivia still remember her? Grayson sat in the middle of the floor, blinking rapidly. Olivia's cries turned from angry to heartbroken. Hudson buried deeper into Arabella's arms.
A lump rose in Arabella's throat and tears unexpectedly pricked her eyes. It had been seven years since she had last seen her own mother. She had been sixteen. Her memories were hazy. The organization liked the recruits to pretend that nothing had come before them. Over time, it started to feel like that was the case.
The heartbroken sobs from the children continued and now tears ran down Grayson's face as well. Arabella turned away, trying to force down the swell of compassion and emotion rising in her. She had a mission to complete. Her normal life would be forfeited if she allowed herself to gain any sort of connection with the Alexanders that would compromise the mission.
She wasn't sure how long they sat there cuddling the toddlers until the sobs turned to whimpers. First Hudson and then Olivia dropped off to sleep. At that point, Grayson awkwardly stood and Arabella passed Hudson to him. He carried the twins to his bed and tucked them in. They curled against each other, their hands grasping each other in their sleep. Arabella stood in the doorway, fighting the ache in her chest.
He was such a good father. A better father than anybody she had ever known. It was clear before that his children meant the world to him, but now, more than ever, how devoted he was just hit home.
Grayson smoothed his children's black hair, looking oddly vulnerable for such a big, intimidating man. His massive shoulders sagged as he moved away from them and Arabella pretended not to see when he lifted his hand to wipe away a few tears.
"We'll let them sleep a little while longer," he said when he was at Arabella's side. "I am going to stay home today."
"Of course," Arabella agreed. "If you don't mind, I'd like to stick around, too. I know you'd like to spend more time with them, but I think it would be good for them to know that me being here doesn't mean you won't be."
Until she took them away from him. Kidnapped them. She tried to push the thought and guilt away. It was her job.
Grayson gave her a weary smile and nodded. "That would be good."
"Let's go to the kitchen. I'll make some tea."
This would have been much easier if she had just been given the assignment to kill him before she got to know him. Arabella struggled to maintain her composure as they went to the kitchen. Grayson sat at the table, his whole body sagging with the weight of fatherhood.
"Sometimes I worry that they've forgotten her," Grayson said suddenly. "I know they will eventually. It hurts to think that they won't remember the mother who loved them so much. But then something like this happens . . . I don't know what's worse."
Arabella set the tea in front of him and hesitantly put her hand over his. "She won't be forgotten. You remember her."
A sad smile crossed the dragon's face and he turned his hand over, squeezing hers gently. "Yes. I'll always remember her. And I am not going to let anybody else die like she did. It's so . . . unnecessary. I just wish people would actually care."
"You care. And you're a good father to those kids. Your wife would be proud of you," Arabella said, chewing her lip awkwardly.
"I do. Sometimes it feels like I'm the only one who does."
"You're not. Lots of people care. It's just that some of us can't get over our own problems. We don't know what it's like to look at others and see theirs."
"Hey, there's nothing wrong with taking care of yourself." Grayson smiled warmly at her, sparking a flutter in her chest. She tried to withdraw her hand, but his grip was firm.
She knew what he was going to do as he leaned closer, his eyes focusing on her lips. Her mind went blank. She didn’t know if she should allow this to happen or not. The mission . . .
Grayson's lips brushed against her own. Her lips tingled, sparks flying through her blood. Arabella leaned into the kiss, all thoughts of why she was here fleeing her mind. All she knew was that she wanted this, to feel this warmth and comfort. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she teased his mouth open. He picked her up and set her on the counter, pressing himself against her.
Heat flared through her, her core tightening. He pushed open her legs and brought her knees over his hips. The kiss broke, and Arabella gasped as his mouth moved to her neck, kissing and sucking at her sensitive skin. Bursts of pleasure and shivers of anticipation ran down her spine. Grayson's strong arms were around her, and she couldn't remember ever feeling so . . . safe in a man's arms. Like he wasn't looking just for some quick fun. Like this was something else. Something more . . . for both of them.
"Are you okay?" he murmured into her neck, his hands roaming her body. "Is this okay?"
Arabella melted against him. "Yes."
His hands narrowed in on her breasts, and he withdrew slightly. "Bedroom?"
She grinned. "Yours or mine?"
With a chuckle, he picked her up off of the counter again. She kept her legs around his hips, holding herself against his body as he carried her towards her bedroom. He kissed her again and again, almost running into the wall a few times, until they were in her room and the door was shut and she was on the bed and he was laying on top of her. Arabella gasped as the sensations running through her increased.
Grayson grunted, grinding himself against her through their clothing. Her core tightened, moisture pooling between her legs. She clawed at his shirt, desperate now. A stray thought told her she needed to stay in control, but she violently shoved it away. She was tired of being in control; she was tired of always being distant and cold, of not meaning what she said.
"Arabella," the dragon whispered. "'Beautiful lion.' Did you know that was what your name meant?"
She shook her head. "No. 'Beautiful lion . . . ' That's not me."
"Oh, but it is." Grayson brushed her hair from her face. "You are beautiful, and you're fierce like a lion. Gentle like a lioness with her cubs . . . " He pressed another gentle kiss to her lips, and smiled. "Beautiful."
Arabella tangled her fingers into his hair, smiling at the warmth that accompanied the fire rushing through her. Her lover's kisses moved down her body, working their way to her waist, where he lifted the hem of her shirt. She raised her arms to let him undress her, then lifted her hips so he could remove her pants. He didn't ask about the faded scars on her body, kissing them lightly instead. Arabella then removed his clothing, tracing her hands over the contours of his body while he pushed open her thighs and worked his fingers between her legs.
The heat already building in her took on a new frenzy. She found him with her hand, returning the gift he was giving. The sound of his grunts made her chew her lip, repressing moans. Their free hands met, twining in one another. Grayson met her eyes, and the intensity there took her breath away.
Their movements continued until both were crying out, gasping and grunting with their effort to control themselves. With a cry, Grayson pushed her legs further apart and pushed inside of her. Shockwaves ran down her body and she arched her back, pushing him in deeper. The dragon's eyes glittered as he began to move, starting a steady rhythm that had her calling out with every thrust.
Her hands dug into his shoulders, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. He kept his hand between them, increasing her pleasure with every passing moment. Arabella's mind danced wildly, thoughts coming and going, her mouth half-open, breathless.
Grayson's back arched. His head fell back and streams of fire rolled from his mouth. His movement became jerky, and she felt everything inside of her come undone. She bent in half, screaming with pleasure. She only ended when Grayson did, collapsing over her. They panted, their bodies cemented together with sweat.
Arabella's eyes drifted closed as she clung to Grayson. She never wanted this to end. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew it would, but didn't understand why it had to. She pressed her face into his skin and inhaled his scent.
All too soon, Grayson rolled off her. He found her hand and twined their fingers together.
"Well," he panted. "That was amazing."
"Yeah." Arabella stretched and groaned as her bones took on a jelly-like quality. "I could just lie here all day."
"Me too." Grayson's free hand drifted down her bare stomach. "It's just too bad that we can't. I don't want the children to find us like this."
"The children. Of course. I'll go shower."
Arabella rolled away and stood. Her legs could barely support her, but she didn't allow herself to go back. Guilt twisted her stomach.
They weren't going to be hurt. Not even Kennedy would hurt two-year-old children. When the twins were taken, all Grayson had to do was withdraw his lawsuits and quit his lobbying. Then they would be restored to him.
They were not going to be hurt.