Chapter
Seventeen
Selyn settled her bottom over Dawson’s thighs and tried not to giggle, but it was so hard. Then she did laugh, but the laughter exploded into an unglamorous snort that morphed into uncontrollable giggles because it was definitely hard, that thing between his legs he’d identified by at least half a dozen silly names last night.
She tried to stop laughing and snorted
again, which made the giggles even worse, but nine hells
he was hard, and it was
hard not to laugh, and he was poking her belly, not between her
legs where she really wanted to feel all that perfectly hard length
of him.
He raised one dark eyebrow. “Any
reason you’re laughing at me?” He sounded angry, but the twitch in
his lips gave him away.
She sniffed and wiped her streaming
eyes. Bit her lips and fought for control. Lost it entirely and
doubled over, shoulders shaking, giggles making it almost
impossible to breathe.
“I’ve certainly had unenthusiastic
reactions from women, but yours takes unenthusiastic to an entirely
new level.”
His dry comment set her off all over
again.
Finally, she took a deep breath. Then
she took another and held it until she felt as if she had
everything under control. “I’m sorry.” She sniffed and had to
clench her teeth to keep the giggles from breaking loose. “I guess
I’m nervous and sometimes I laugh when I’m nervous, and then I
thought how hard it was, only I was thinking how hard it was not to
laugh, but then I realized how hard that is and . . . and . . .”
She slapped a hand over her mouth. His
blue eyes twinkled. He didn’t say a word. Instead he slipped his
hand between their bellies, and his long fingers inched slowly
between her legs.
Laughter was suddenly the last thing
on Selyn’s mind.
She moaned, thrust her hips forward
and tilted her head back. His fingers slipped gently over that
sensitive bit of her that he’d played so well last night. She
whimpered. Then one finger slowly, gently worked inside her body.
In, out, and in again. He added another, and the pressure was
exquisite. Muscles rippled and pulsed—muscles she hadn’t even known
she had—and she caught his rhythm, sliding up and down his fingers,
tilting her hips to find the perfect friction, amazed by what he
could do to her with nothing more than his beautiful, long
fingers.
The warm water lapped over her breasts
and gave her body a buoyancy that turned everything dreamlike. The
thick, hard ridge of his penis rubbed over her belly, but she
didn’t want him there. She wanted him inside, filling her, and she
lifted herself away from his fingers, actually floating away from
his slow but steady teasing.
“Now,” she demanded, with a voice gone
harsh from desire. “I want you inside me. Now.”
He focused on her face, his blue eyes
dark as midnight in the shadows, and he watched her while she
shivered in his grasp. Watched her, she imagined, to be sure she
knew what she was asking of him.
She did. She’d never wanted anything
more. Not her freedom, not even her life. She’d not experienced
life before now. It was her turn. Her time.
For whatever reason, he must have been
satisfied she wasn’t a complete idiot, because his hands grasped
her hips, and he lifted her even as she lifted herself. She reached
between them, grabbed the thick, hard length of him, and slowly,
carefully settled herself down, taking him fully
inside.
He was much bigger than she’d
expected. Longer. Thicker. And hard. It might feel as if that part
of him was covered in silk, but he was all steel and strength and
hard, male muscle. Her channel burned as he stretched her. She felt
her muscles rippling along his length, but her body adjusted. The
burn slowly faded away, replaced by a pleasure so perfect, so
utterly sublime, she knew she never would have believed had someone
tried to describe it.
He filled her in more than just this
physical sense. Though she’d not realized what was missing before
now, Selyn finally felt complete. Emotions she’d never appreciated
burst into life, feelings unfamiliar and yet so deeply embedded in
her soul, she had no idea how she’d existed without
them.
Dawson stretched her, and she clung to
him, taking all of him, needing him inside her as much as she
needed air to breathe and food to eat. Needing this fullness, this
amazing connection, but not merely to another. No, specifically to
Dawson Buck.
She’d never imagined needing a man—not
like this. Her life had been as complete as a slave’s life could
be. Work in the mines; downtime with her sisters; the love she’d
known from her mother so long ago.
This was completely different.
Unexplainable, unimaginable.
Perfect.
Dawson’s lips fastened over her
nipple, and he suckled so hard she felt it between her legs. His
hips kept up a simple rhythm—such simple physical acts to create
such a complex tangle of physical sensations and
emotions.
He moved inside her slowly, carefully,
but Selyn wanted more. He was probably being careful because this
was her first time. Nine hells, but she didn’t want
careful!
She planted her knees on the stone
bench on either side of his thighs and took control. Rising and
falling, tilting her hips to take him even deeper, to feel that
delicious friction grow stronger, closer, she reached for something
indescribable. Her breath burst out from between her parted lips in
short, sharp gasps. Water splashed out of the pool and spread in
ever-widening circles across the dark stone floor.
Dawson’s eyes were closed, and his
lips twisted in a rictus that could be either pain or pleasure. The
cords on his neck were drawn taut—his entire body felt tight
beneath Selyn’s hands, straining, as hers was, against the climax
hovering so close.
She didn’t want to finish. Not yet.
This felt too good to end it, but then she realized they could do
it again, and again if they wished.
This wasn’t an end, it was a
beginning.
A beginning for her and for Dawson.
The simplicity of it filled her mind, the joy and the absolute
certainty of her feelings. Buoyed by unexpected love, she set
herself free.
The first rippling contractions deep
inside her body must have been the signal Dawson waited for. He
thrust inside hard and fast, deeper still until the hard crown of
his erection rode across the mouth of her womb.
She heard a loud, keening cry and
barely recognized her own voice, that unfamiliar howl ripped from
her chest as her body tightened and shivered and trembled in
Dawson’s powerful embrace.
She was still trembling, long moments
later as they half lay, half floated in the pool. Dawson had
slipped lower on the stone bench so that only his head remained
above the water. Her chin rested on his shoulder and water lapped
across her lips, but she made no effort to move.
What was the point? She couldn’t have
moved if she’d tried.
His lips caressed her brow. “You’re
not giggling anymore.”
She groaned. “I think you’ve found the
cure for my giggles.”
“Good.” He kissed her again. “No man
wants to be laughed at. That’s not the reaction we’re looking for
from a beautiful woman. Not at all.”
She snorted and then choked it back.
“I’ll try to remember that.”
“We should probably get out of the
water.”
She raised her head.
“Why?”
“Gonna get all pruny.”
She frowned. “What’s that mean?” Some
of the terms he used really didn’t translate well at
all.
He held up her hand and showed her the
water-wrinkles on her fingertips. “That’s pruny. Plums are fruit.
When they’re dried, they get all wrinkled, and they’re called
prunes. Your fingers are all wrinkled. Hence, pruny.”
“But they’re all wet. They’re not dry
at all.”
“Exactly.” He blew bubbles at the end
of the word.
She held up her fingers and looked at
them. “Huh?”
“Never mind.”
Selyn wriggled her hips and felt him
grow hard inside her once again. “I don’t think you really want to
get out yet.”
He opened his eyes, though his lids
looked heavy and slumberous. “There’s out, like do we want to get
out of the water, and then there’s out . . . of you.” Slowly, with
a tilt of his hips, he lifted and thrust deep inside her. “I’d
rather stay in.” He emphasized his position with a quick kiss.
“Though I don’t mind pulling out again.”
Wrapping his big hands around her
waist, he lifted her just enough to slip himself almost free of her
sheath. “As long as I can go back in,” he whispered, plunging deep
again.
Selyn shivered as she caught his
achingly slow rhythm, taking every deep thrust with a tiny cry, and
whimpering each time he withdrew.
Over, and over again.
A long time later, Selyn confirmed
they were both really pruny when they finally dragged themselves
out of the steaming, bubbling pool and into bed.
Eddy stared glumly at the ghostly
image the streetlights cast through the steadily falling snow
outside the window of Freedom and Spirit Schwartz’s house. Trees
sagged beneath their heavy load. A few branches had given way and
lay broken and twisted in the yard. The narrow street outside the
house was covered in an impassable layer of white.
Bumper slept in front of the woodstove
that Freedom kept stocked with split pieces of oak. Gaia, Artigos,
Freedom, Spirit, and Eddy’s dad Ed were in the next room attempting
to play a Lemurian card game Gaia had spent the afternoon
trying—amid much laughter—to teach them.
They were having way too much fun.
Artigos laughed, Ed cursed, and Freedom, feeling much stronger this
afternoon as he recovered from back surgery, made some silly
comment about Lemurians and their luck. Eddy turned and glared at
the five older adults sitting at the kitchen table. They’d been in
there for hours now, drinking cheap sangria and laughing, enjoying
themselves as if all was right with the world. They were so damned
happy she wanted to scream.
“How can they just sit in there and
play cards like there’s nothing going on and it’s just a normal
day? I don’t get it.” She flopped down on the couch next to Dax and
glared at their reflection in the big picture window. “The whole
world is going to hell in a handbasket, and they’re in there
playing games, acting like everything is fine.”
Dax grabbed her hand. “Ah, Eddy. What
would you like them to do? We’re stuck here. There’s nothing any of
us can do for now, not until the storm ends. Mari’s magic isn’t
enough to stop the snow; the roads are closed; airplanes aren’t
flying. . . . We just have to wait it out.”
Damn. She hated when he was
reasonable. “Aren’t you worried about Ginny and Alton? They haven’t
contacted us since they went back into Lemuria. We should have
heard something by now. If they were okay, they’d have access to
the portals and could use their frickin’ cell phones, if nothing
else!”
Before Dax could answer, Mari flopped
on the couch beside Eddy and sighed. “I’m with you, Eddy. I know
worrying doesn’t do anyone any good, but something is definitely
wrong. Just look out the window. This isn’t a normal storm.
Evergreen never gets snow this heavy this early in the year. It’s
not even Halloween yet. The weather service can’t explain it, and
my magic doesn’t affect it.” Grumbling, she added, “I thought I was
getting pretty good with weather.”
Darius wandered in from the kitchen.
The big Lemurian guard stood in front of the window and stared at
the blowing snow. After a bit he turned away and folded his arms
across his chest. “Mari? You’ve been concentrating so much on
changing the weather. What about trying something different? What
if you were to use your magic to transport us up the mountain? I
don’t know exactly what you’re capable of, but . . .” He
shrugged.
“Neither do I. Remember, I’m still
pretty new at this.” She stood up. “But I know who might have some
answers. Mom? Got a minute?” She left the room in a swirl of her
long skirts.
Grinning broadly, Eddy watched her go.
“Mari’s really embraced her inner witch, hasn’t she? She always
used to dress in button-down shirts and dark slacks, and wear her
hair in a neat little twist at the back of her neck. I swear she
was an investment banker in the sixth grade. Now look at her. Long
blond hair, dangly earrings, a gauzy skirt, and a gypsy top with no
bra . . .”
“I heard that!” Mari’s indignant
laughter had them all in stitches.
“I was complimenting you, Mari. I was
just saying that you’ve set your inner witch free at
last.”
Mari stuck her head around the corner.
“My inner what?”
Darius laughed. “Witch. Your inner
witch is finally free. Now see if she can get us to the
vortex.”
Mari saluted and went back into the
kitchen to talk to her mom. Bumper raised her head and growled.
Darius reached for his sword, and Dax jumped to his feet. The
lights dimmed, blinked, and went out.
“I was expecting that,” Freedom said
out of the dark kitchen. His flashlight flickered on. “Spirit,
where’d you leave the matches?”
“No problem, Dad. I’ll get the
candles.” Mari moved through the dark room, pausing over candles
and a couple of storm lanterns that flickered to life as she
passed. “I knew this magic was good for something.”
Eddy stared at Bumper. The dog had
gone on alert before the lights went out. Now she stared at the
front door. A low growl vibrated in BumperWillow’s chest, and her
ears were pointed forward. She focused so intently on the door,
Eddy wondered if she heard someone.
Or some thing.
Willow?
What’s got Bumper so upset?
There’s
something outside. I’m not sure what. It’s more a sense of wrong,
not right, but I don’t know what it is. See if DemonSlayer can
tell.
With a quick glace at Dax, Eddy
slipped her sword from the scabbard. The blade glowed and pulsed in
the candlelight, shining brilliantly and throwing dark shadows
against the walls. “DemonSlayer? Can you tell what has Bumper
spooked?”
The sword flashed and Eddy heard the
familiar voice of Selyn’s mother in her mind. Demonkind. Nearby. Searching, yet not finding. Wraiths.
They’re formless, not in avatars, yet there is more substance than
normal. I sense them moving in small groups. Coming closer. Drawn
by something that calls them.
Eddy glanced at Dax. “Looks like we’ve
got demons, guys. Not sure where, but they’re getting close, and
they’re not using avatars. DemonSlayer says they’re being drawn
here.”
Darius held a hand over his eyes to
cut back on the reflection from the candlelight and stared out of
the window. Snow swirled close against the glass. Finally he
grunted and turned away. “I don’t like this a bit. Can’t see a
thing out there. Do you think they’ve targeted Mari again? She no
longer has the geode that called them before, but one of its
crystals is going to be lodged in her heart forever.”
Eddy shot a worried look in Mari’s
direction. “I don’t know. I imagine they’re drawn to all of us.
We’re the only ones who know of their existence.”
“I agree.” Dax stood by the front
window and stared into the darkness. Candlelight reflected off the
glass. Snowflakes swirled and danced outside. It would be nearly
impossible to see these demons—they’d be nothing more than shadows
within shadows on a dark night.
Artigos and Gaia led the others from
the kitchen into the front room. “Does anyone know if my sword made
the trip from Lemuria? I’ve not used it in many years, but if we’re
forced into a fight with demonkind, it’s another blade for the good
guys.”
Eddy stood up. “Alton packed it, sir.
He insisted we keep it near you. It’s out in Dad’s Jeep. No one’s
taken it out of the scabbard, but I’m sure it’s okay. I’ll go get
it for you.”
Alton’s father had been quiet and
withdrawn ever since Mari’d killed his demon. He’d clung to Gaia at
first, but today his mind appeared to be working better, as if the
man he once was hadn’t been entirely lost.
And he was right. His blade was one
more crystal sword they hadn’t counted on. Eddy glanced at Dax.
“It’s wrapped in a blanket in the back of the Jeep. I’ll go out and
get it.”
“Not by yourself, you’re not.” Dax
reached for his coat and strapped his scabbard on over it. More
relieved than she wanted to admit by Dax’s offer, Eddy did the
same. They both drew their blades, which glowed brilliantly against
the shadows.
“Beats a flashlight.” Eddy meant it as
a joke, but her heart pounded and shivers raced along her spine.
The sense of something wrong was growing, especially with Bumper
growling and staring at the front door as if she expected the demon
king himself to barge through.
It took her a few seconds to work up
the courage, but Eddy finally grabbed the doorknob, turned it, and
slowly pulled the door open just a crack. She used her sword to
cast enough light to look for demons. Snow swirled and drifted
around the front porch, but all seemed quiet. She glanced over her
shoulder at Dax, and they both stepped outside, using the glow from
their blades to light the way.
“Hurry.” Dax shut the door behind him,
and then he went first, carefully walking down the icy front steps.
He held his hand out for Eddy, and they waded through the drifts to
the driveway where Ed had parked earlier today. There’d only been
about six inches of snow on the ground, then.
Now snow buried the wheels past the
hubcaps and covered the windshield. Dax stood beside the Jeep while
Eddy sheathed DemonSlayer and then climbed into the vehicle. It
took her a minute to get Artigos’s crystal sword out of the hiding
place in the back where she’d left it wrapped in a
blanket.
Wind howled, and the snow was blowing
sideways by the time Eddy crawled out of the Jeep and shut the
door. Dax grabbed her arm and helped her as they struggled through
what had suddenly become blizzard conditions between Ed’s old Jeep
and Spirit and Freedom’s front door.
A banshee howl raised the tiny hairs
on Eddy’s spine. She clutched the sword under her arm and shot a
quick glance at Dax. “Was that the wind?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so.
Hurry.”
The snow was so deep it reached their
knees. They tried to follow the same trail they’d made from the
house, but the wind practically blew them over, and stinging snow
crystals burned wherever they found exposed skin. Eddy tucked
herself behind Dax and hung on to his belt as he forced his way
through what had become a complete whiteout.
With the electricity out, the
neighborhood was black as pitch. None of the neighboring houses
showed up at all. It was impossible to see Spirit and Freedom’s
house in these conditions. Even the brilliant glow from DemonFire
barely cut through the darkness. The light reflected off the
swirling ice crystals in a disorienting kaleidoscope of sparkling
shapes and brilliant flashes, and the fierce wind had them
squinting against the sharp bite of blowing ice. The footprints
they’d made only moments before were already covered by blowing,
drifting snow.
“DemonFire! Which way?” Wind whipped
the words out of Dax’s mouth, but his sword glowed brightly and
pointed to the right of the direction they’d been heading. Dax and
Eddy shifted their course, and within seconds they reached the
front porch. The howl grew in volume, an angry screech of
frustration and demonic wrath. Snow swirled up under the overhang,
reaching with icy fingers as if it searched for them.
Eddy clutched the wrapped sword under
her arm and drew DemonSlayer with her free hand. She turned away
from the door, pointing her crystal blade and its brilliant beam of
light toward the yard. Within the swirling snow, black wraiths
swarmed overhead like huge vultures circling a carcass. Even though
they were formless beneath her sword’s light, Eddy knew exactly
what had followed them to the house.
“Demons, Dax. Do you see them? They’re
all around us. Hurry.”
He reached for the door and opened it
just enough to grab Eddy and shove her inside. Artigos, Darius, and
Ed waited in the foyer. Darius had his sword drawn, and he moved
quickly to guard the door as Dax slipped through.
Once Dax was in, Darius shut the door
and locked it. “I count at least a dozen on the front porch alone.
Mari, forget the spells to move us to Lemuria. We need to
concentrate on fighting demonkind. Now.”
“Well, crap.” Mari glanced wildly at
her mother. “Grab the spell book, Mom. We need some good, fast,
demon-killing spells.”
Spirit headed for the bedroom where
she’d left the book as Eddy carefully unwrapped the crystal
sword.
“Your weapon, sir.” She handed the
sword to Artigos.
He took the scabbard with a quiet
reverence, and merely held it in his hands. Then he raised his
head. “My sword is not yet sentient. It’s never spoken to me, never
guided me, and I’ve not drawn it for well over ten thousand years.
There was always an excuse. I believe now that part of me knew I’d
been tainted by demonkind.” He sighed and glanced at his wife. “I
wasn’t worthy of bearing crystal. Hopefully, my blade will forgive
me.”
He reached for the sword and wrapped
his hand around the hilt. Then he lifted his head, stood proudly,
and smiled at Gaia. “My beloved wife has forgiven me, and I have
great hopes that our son will, as well. Here’s hoping the crystal
feels the same. I’d hate like the nine hells to see it shatter when
I pull it from the scabbard.”
Ed raised an eyebrow and grinned at
Artigos. “That would definitely ruin the moment.”
“Dad!” Eddy snorted and stared at her
father. For whatever reason, the two men had hit it off from the
beginning, and Ed’s easy acceptance of Alton’s father had quickly
put Artigos at ease.
Ed grinned shamelessly, and even
Artigos laughed.
“You’re not kidding,” he said. Then he
slipped the blade out of the scabbard.
“It’s yellow!” Eddy glanced at Darius.
“Have you ever seen a yellow crystal sword before?”
Artigos frowned at the blade. “It was
clear crystal when I was young. I wonder what the significance is.”
He turned it this way and that, and the blade glowed an
incandescent yellow that was brighter than amber and gleamed with
the brilliance of sunlight.
“I think it’s citrine.” Mari glanced
up as her mother walked back into the room, spell book in hand. “Is
that right?”
Spirit nodded. “Correct. Do you know
the crystal’s properties?”
“I do. It’s one of my favorites.” Mari
smiled at Artigos. “It holds no negativity. It’s a stone of
optimism and self-discipline. I think it’s supposed to lead to
open-minded awareness and better communication.”
“Mari’s right.” Spirit smiled that
Earth Mother smile of hers as she leaned over to get a better look
at the brilliant yellow facets. “I can’t imagine a better crystal
for you to carry as you begin your new life, Artigos. It negates
narrow-mindedness and helps control anxiety.” Gently she rested her
fingers on his arm. “It’s a happy stone, filled with
goodness.”
Then she glanced at the snow swirling
just beyond the glass window and smiled sweetly. “There’s nothing
like attacking evil with a crystal sword full of goodness. I
imagine it’ll really piss off the little bastards.”
Mari rolled her eyes. Freedom wrapped
an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Let’s hope so. You and Mari
need to work on your spells. I’ll help in any way I’m able. In case
you hadn’t noticed, dear, demons are massing just outside. It’s
going to be a long night.”
A high-pitched screech echoed above
the sound of the wind. Bumper leapt to her feet, barking like mad.
Something thumped against the front door, and a subtle vibration
passed through the floor. “What the hell was that?” Eddy drew
DemonSlayer.
“That, I believe, was the sound of
demons knocking,” Dax said. He pulled DemonFire from his scabbard.
“They want in.”
Isra watched from the shadows as her
sisters and their terrible guards sat around the gathering hall,
chatting like old friends. Bastards. Bastards and traitors, every
damned one of them. How could her sisters be so easily swayed by
that bitch Selyn?
And that old guy. Artigos? She’d
hidden nearby when he’d made that talk filled with lies about
working together for the good of Lemuria. What had Lemuria ever
done that was good for her? Not a damned thing, that’s for
sure.
She rubbed her palm against her robe.
It still stung where the sword had burned her. For some reason it
wasn’t healing the way her injuries usually did. The raw and
blistered flesh was a constant reminder that she wasn’t good enough
for one of their fancy crystal swords.
Well, let them try to stop her. She
could find the way out, could find the portals that led to the
levels where the free folk lived. All she had to do was get out of
here and find a plain white robe. No one would know she was the
daughter of a slave, but she knew things that someone in the halls
above would love to find out—and she was more than willing to
share.
Slaves carrying crystal? An exiled
leader thinking of making a comeback? It all reeked of treason as
far as Isra could tell.
She couldn’t care less about the
politics of Lemuria, but she damned well didn’t want to see her
pissy sisters and the no-good bastard guards coming out of this
looking like heroes.
No. If anyone was going to look
heroic, it would be Isra. Isra the slave. Isra the Forgotten
One.
Forget that. They weren’t ever going
to forget Isra.