Bonds of Justice (PsyChangeling Novels) by Nalini Singh

Author:Nalini Singh [Singh, Nalini]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2010-06-25T00:00:00+00:00

Sophia woke from the most sleepless of nights, her body aching from the inside out, her skin too tight, her nerves shredded. Everything was “off.” Irritation burned inside her, and it had no target, no focus.

Showering helped calm her body a fraction, and so did an intense ten-minute meditation. Feeling slightly more in control, she dressed in a black pantsuit paired with a white shirt, dried then plaited her hair—baring a violence-touched face Max didn’t seem to find the least objectionable—and forced herself to eat a nutrition bar for breakfast. Her cop, she thought, would not approve.

Strange twisting sensations in her abdomen, the renewed prickling of her skin. Heat was just starting to spot her cheeks when the doorbell rang. Throwing the wrapper of the nutrition bar in the recycler, she walked over and opened the door.

It was his scent that hit her first. Exotic and familiar, male in a way she couldn’t explain. But she knew she’d be able to distinguish it from a million others. “Max.”

His eyes narrowed as he entered, closing the door behind himself. “You’re flushed. What’s wrong?”

She rubbed gloved hands over her arms. “I don’t know. I feel . . . edgy. My skin, my body—”

The worry disappeared from his face, to be replaced by something darker and full of a quiet masculine amusement. “It’s called frustration, sweetheart.”

Frustration: synonymous with aggravation, irritation, dissatisfaction.

Yes, she thought. That’s the word.

“I’d have more sympathy for you except that I spent the night with a permanent hard-on.”

Her eyes dropped to his groin. He groaned even as his body reacted rather spectacularly.

Sophia wanted to touch. “Fix it,” she ordered. “You know how to end my frustration and yours, and I’m no longer as overwrought as I was last night.”

He blew out a breath. “Yeah? Maybe I do. And maybe so do you.” There was something exquisitely sensual in his words. “I—”

She never got to hear what he would’ve said, because his cell phone beeped at that moment. And everything changed.

“It’s Bart.” All hint of sensuality leaving his expression, Max put the phone to his ear, his responses not telling Sophia much. “I’ll talk to her.” He snapped the phone shut. “Bonner’s broken sooner than we thought.”

“He’s angry,” Sophia said, feeling a layer of ice form around her, an impenetrable barrier threaded with dark tendrils that “tasted” of the Net. “His ego can’t take that I ended yesterday’s comm-conference before he was ready.” Turning, she headed to her bedroom.

Max caught her arm, felt her tremble though he’d been careful not to touch skin. “What’re you doing?”

“Packing an overnight case,” she said, her voice firm, though her body swayed toward his before she caught herself. “He’ll talk this time, I’m sure of it.” She nodded at his cell phone. “Call Nikita.”

“We can’t leave midcase,” Max said, because though those lost girls owned a piece of his heart, they were already gone, their lights doused. But Sophia, she was alive, her flame flickering against the violent storm of Bonner’s evil. He couldn’t believe that Carissa White and her sisters in death would want him to sacrifice Sophia to bring them home.

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