Page 65 of Vanish Into Light

It was Beck who took hold of him, steadied him; who guided him to her entrance. Beck who gripped her hip, and pressed down; Beck who joined them, humming, murmuring quiet praise beneath his breath.

That first stretch, when Lance entered her, was so good she closed her eyes. The sensation swept through her, over her, a rippling wave that was echoed in the punched-out sound he made, and the grab of his hands on her hips, gripping where Beck gripped, their fingers overlapping.

It was good – it was so very good – and then they were both moving her, lifting her, lowering her, and it was nothing but pleasure, bright sparks of it, and the heat of their hands, their bodies.

This. She would fight every war for this.

Nothing was too horrible to endure if she could havethis.

~*~

If Gallo had to listen to Gavin bitch anymore about stuff that wasn’t his business – “Youknowhe went up there to have aliteraldevil’s three-way, the creepy fuck” – he couldn’t promise that he’d be graceful about it.

“Yeah,” Tris deadpanned, “please keep talking about how evil sex is.”

“What? No, dude.” He waved his hands around. “I didn’t mean – look, you know I don’t mean anything about you, or Frankie, or – dude, youknowme. I love sex! But come on. Beck is…”

As Gallo backed out of the room, Tris lifted a gaze that saiddon’t you dare leave me with him.

Sorry, Gallo mouthed, and fled.

He would pay for that later – mostly in Tris pouting, which was actually adorable, and not much in the way of punishment at all. Still. He felt guilty. Mostly.

The rain was slackening, as evening came on. Beck hadn’t said, before he’d disappeared with Rose – and Lance had followed – but Gallo had the sense they would wind up running an op tonight. Gavin was certainly feeling like himself, and nighttime brought out the city’s even scarier side. If Morgan was up for it…

Well, he guessed he could just ask her.

He’d walked aimlessly down the hall, just trying to put distance between himself and Gavin’s stupid mouth, and had reached the grand entrance hall, the last of the tapering rain pattering down on the rubble-strewn black-and-white tiles – and on Morgan’s head.

She stood in the center of the space, hands down at her sides, covered by the too-long sleeves of the hoodie she wore. She stared fixedly toward the ridiculous, ornate chair that belonged on a fantasy movie set – or, no. Her gaze was lifted, was fixed on something higher.

On the stained-glass portrait of Saint Michael, lamplight glinting off white glass wings…and on the silver glass sword the angel held, thrust through the heart of the serpent coiled below.

She didn’t react when Gallo joined her.

“So I guess that’s what we’re looking for, huh?” He gestured toward the window. “The sword?”

A beat passed. She said, “Yes.”

“You wouldn’t think a guy like that would just lose his sword, would you?”

“No,” she murmured. “You wouldn’t.”

THIRTEEN

The rain had slowed to a drifting mist. The building they approached was a flat-fronted, seventies-built apartment bloc, rundown and litter-strewn out front – but with its windows blazing with bright, yellow, inefficient light. Someone inside had money – or was being sponsored by someone who did.

A hunched figure sat on the front steps, wrapped in a blanket, features concealed beneath a hood. It rocked and murmured – a man’s slurred voice – and Lance wished his rifle was in his hands, rather than swinging against his back. Handguns were the smarter option, though, in close quarters, alongside his Company.

“Okay,” he started, and then Beck landed in front of him on the sidewalk, his touchdown soft, the crisp snap of his wings caping together echoing off the building façade.

Beck smoothed his hair. “Right, then. We’re all accounted for and ready?”

Lance waited for the frustration to hit – but it didn’t. He hummed with the usual pre-op readiness that always left him jittering, faintly, the one that gave way to calm resolution the moment things kicked off. But he couldn’t find anything but a pulse of gladness that Beck had joined them.

He said, “Yeah.”

Beck nodded. “I’ll go in first.” He turned, and faced their destination. “Stay behind my wings until I give word.”

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