BloodLust (Rise of the Iliri Book 1) (23 page)

"Blaec?"

He shook his head.  "I dunno, Sal.  Go ask him.  He knows, and he'll tell ya honestly.  It's a part a who we are, and it's just how we cope with being so close to death."

"How long will I feel like this?"

"I dunno," he said, again.  "For most of us, sleeping eases it.  That does na mean it'll be easy to find sleep, though."

She nodded and pulled herself into her clean blacks.  Her hair still wet, her boots in her hand, she walked past Cyno, feeling the electricity when she neared him.  He made her skin tingle.  When she looked, his eyes were still burning, his knuckles white around the shirt in his hands.

He stepped back, his muscles standing out in rip cords on his shoulders.  She took a long, slow breath as she ducked through the door.  Cyno's scent had none of the sweetness of a human, but she owed it to Blaec to see him, to tell him.  She didn't feel so beastly now that Cyno explained it, but she couldn't stop thinking about the tattooed man and how tempting he smelled.

Chapter 28

Silently, Sal slipped into the pavilion.  Blaec sat at his desk, his maps before him, but his eyes stared blankly at the wall, lost in his own thoughts.  She dropped her boots by the door.  The sound made him turn.

"Sal?"

"I'm sorry, Blaec.  I just needed..."

He stood and walked to her, his green eyes soft, trying to keep his face stoic.  "You get it too, don't you?"

"Cyno calls it the bloodlust.  I thought I just couldn't control the iliri in me.  I don't want to be a monster."

He placed his hands gently on her shoulders and shook his head.  She sighed deeply.  Blaec watched her, trying to smell what she was thinking.  It was bitter, and the tension nearly made her muscles tremble.

"Sweetness," he said softly, "it's ok.  You're not a monster.  Remember when I told you to take the bay?"

She nodded.  He had to tell her the truth.

"I knew if you took the bay, you'd make it back.  But that's not all I saw."  He paused, trying to remember every detail of her face.  "I also saw you in another man's arms."

Her eyes widened, but he kept his touch kind and gentle.  He also kept his distance, refusing to let her see anything but acceptance.  He knew this moment was important, even if he hated it.

"I know it happens, but it doesn't to me.  I don't own you.  I don't possess you like a trophy.  You made me a promise and I'm ok with it."  He caressed her upper arm with his thumb.  "All I want is for you to come back to me in the morning.  Go.  Burn yourself out.  Find Cyno, or any man that can handle you right now, and burn it out."

She didn't move.  He could smell desire and fear on her, but there was something else.  If he had to name it, he'd say determination, but it was so much more.  It was purely iliran.  The scent was strength of will and pride as she fought against her own instincts.  Sal shook her head.

Blaec smiled and stepped close enough to kiss her forehead.  "I never asked you to be faithful, sweetness, I only asked you to be loyal.  There's nothing wrong with being iliri.  There's nothing wrong with this.  Breathe, you can smell it."  He gently turned her toward the door and gave her a soft push.  "I'll be here tomorrow.  I'm just glad to have all of my Blades home."

Sal cast one glance back at him.  He nodded, proving he meant it.  Without a word, she left the tent as silently as she entered, her boots the only sign of her visit, laying discarded by the door.  He sighed, letting the tension go with the air that slid from his lungs.

"You're a better man than I," Risk said from the corner.  "I couldn't have done that, I don't think."

"Trust me, I don't like it."

"Like or not, you still did it," Risk reminded him. 

"I did it because it matters.  It wasn't a choice I want to make, but I have to live with it."

Risk dragged a hand over his mouth.  "I won't ask.  At least you know she'll be more yours because of it, right?"

"No.  I can hope, but I also know this won't be the last time."

"Probably not.  How do you think he'll take it?"

"Cyno?" Blaec asked. "Willingly, I would think."

Risk laughed.  "That's not what I meant, and you know it.  I mean tomorrow, when he wakes up beside her, knowing the line he crossed."

"Damn," Blaec growled under his breath.  "I hadn't thought of that.  Should I talk to him?"

"You know that won't help."  Risk shook his head.  "Just thank him privately once she's gone and leave it at that.  She'll be back in the morning, and I'm betting tensions will be high.  Acknowledging it – and not making anything of it – will be the best for Cyno."

"She needs this," Blaec said.  "She needs to know she can make her own decisions."

"And they'll both be better for it.  It's their nature, even if it's not yours.  Might melt some of Cyno's ice.  He's kept to himself for far too long already, and she's about the only thing that can crack his shell."

"That's what I hope.  Hers, too."

"Hers will be more complicated," Risk said.  "But she's making us all less human.  Even you."

Blaec sighed.  "I know, and I don't know what to do about that."

"Nothing," Risk assured him, moving to rest his hand on the Lieutenant's shoulder. 

Blaec chuckled but shook his head.  "And letting the world find out what we are is a good idea?"

"Who knows?  But you need to warn Arctic, and I need to find my own bed.  I have a feeling I'll be patching up a few Blades come dawn, since Shift is headed out." 

With one last look at the Lieutenant, Risk made his way through the door.  Blaec sat down and leaned back in his chair.  Sleep would elude him.  Each time he closed his eyes, the image of Sal wrapped in tattooed arms flashed in his mind.  He sighed again and stared at the canvas of the wall.  She'd made it home, and he saw that she'd come back.  He just needed to make it through tonight and stop thinking about it.  This would be ok.  They were on the right path.

He turned back to the map.  The next mission was as good of a distraction as anything.

***

Sal tried not to feel guilty as she crept through camp. Her heart beat fast, pounding in excitement when she stepped through the door of his tent. Her iliran sight allowed nothing to hide in the dark.

Cyno, eyes closed, reclined on a wooden chair. His head was tilted back, his pants hung open, legs spread, and his hand gripped hard, pale flesh.  At the sight of him, she felt her body sing like a finely tuned string.

His eyes opened, looking at her.  The shadows hid her no better from him. Without a word, she pulled her shirt over her head and dropped it on the ground.  His soft sigh crossed the room with the scent of his arousal.  Unlacing her breeches, she made her way closer. Only his hand moved, slowly, as he watched her.  She worked the soft leather over her hips and stepped out of her pants, standing before him naked.

Cyno smiled gently and reached out for her.  His calluses brushed against her skin as she leaned into him.  His mouth kissed the lines of her stomach, his hands reaching higher, thumbs trailing just under her breasts.

"Why did ya come back?" he asked, his voice rough.

"I need you."

"Sal."  He paused.  "I can na do this to him."  His hands made lies of his words, his thumbs still caressing, moving higher with each pass.

"He knows, Cyno," she whispered.  "He saw it, in his vision, and he sent me to you.  He knows."  She moved onto his lap, straddling his knees, pushing her body closer to his.

He groaned deeply and let desire take over.  His hands moved to her hips and guided her down.  Hard and throbbing, he was ready for her.  His touch calmed the storm raging inside her mind and she clung to his bare arms, her nails digging into the black lines.

Then he slammed into her, thrusting his pelvis up, holding her to him.  Sal sought his mouth to hold in her moan.  Their tongues clashed, fighting for control.  Her teeth sank into his lip and he moaned again, his own nails tearing the flesh across her ass. Ripping his mouth from hers, he sought out her neck, alternating kisses and bites on her milky white skin. She felt his teeth break through, the pain so sweet, but she stopped her cries in her throat, a high moan the only hint of her ecstasy. She could feel a line of blood trickling down her neck and Cyno ran his tongue through it, nipping at her while she thrust herself onto him.

It was carnal.  There was no emotion, just pure sensation, their touches hard and violent to pierce through the haze in their minds.  She growled, fighting the urge to shove her teeth deep into the muscles of his shoulder, clenching her jaw against the instinct.

Cyno impaled her repeatedly, his hands bruising her skin as he pulled harder, shoved deeper. He gave her no escape from the pleasure until it began to build, swelling into a feeling she couldn't ignore, taking control of her body. Then something inside her burst, her body tensing as she lost control.  A feral sound escaped as she threw her head back.  She'd never felt pleasure so intense, and she gave herself to it. Below her, he thrust again, her whimpers encouraging him until he found his own release.

Breathing heavily, drunk on the scent of their crazed need, Sal collapsed against him.  Cyno wrapped his arms around her protectively.

Their chests pressed together, their hearts pounded in unison.  Both fought to catch their breath, feeling the unnatural desire release its hold.  Gently, Cyno leaned forward, sliding Sal off him as he stood.  Her knees buckled, still weak from the passion they'd shared, and he steadied her against his body.  Pressed against his chest, standing, she realized just how small he truly was.  Only centimeters taller than her, she didn't need to contort her neck to reach his lips.  The thought crossed her mind and she found herself doing just that.

His mouth was soft, and now gentle, against her own.  His callused hand reached up, caressing the side of her face.  When the kiss broke, she opened her eyes to find him looking at her, his deep blue eyes filled with a warmth she'd never seen.  He smiled softly, then bent and picked her up, her weight like nothing in his arms.  Never looking away from her face, he placed her on his bed, the mattress sinking beneath her.  She turned toward him and he lowered his body – his breeches still hanging open – to sit at the edge looking down at her.  Her fingers traced his bare arm, the one closest to her, devoid of tattoos.

"I'm so sorry, Sal."  He caressed her face again.

"Why?"

"I should na have done that."  He glanced away, embarrassed, only to look back at her. 

"Cyno, I think I did that."  She chuckled.  "And I think I needed that."

"Ah, maast," he whispered.  "I tried na to, kitten.  I sent ya back to LT.  Why'd ya come here?"

"I told you," she said, reaching out for his mind, offering him the memory of her talk with Blaec. 

He pulled away from the flame but she sent a tendril of thought to guide him back.  "Cyno," she begged, "just look."

She watched his eyes focus on something outside the room, his face flushing while the memory played in his head.  "He told ya ta come ta me?"

"Yeah.  He made me promise him before.  Cyno – " she paused, thinking for a second.  "Cyno, I don't even know your real name."

He laughed, her change in conversation catching him off guard.  'It's Jassant.  Jassant Cynortas."

"Jase?" She asked.

"Sal, fer you, I'll answer to anything."  He smiled and she saw the light in his eyes that had always been missing.

"Jase, I don't know where I'll be tomorrow.  It might be a meter under for all any of us know.  I don't know where you'll be either, and I sure don't want to wonder what I might have missed."

"Sal... oh, Sal.  Ya really do na understand what's pushing ya, do ya."

"No, not really.  What do you mean?"

"My amma was nearly pure iliri.  My dava?  She said he looked like Risk."  He paused.  "Of all the Blades, we think I carry the most blood.  I cut my hair 'cause it grows out ta silver, darker than yers but still silver.  Sal, ya call ta me in a way I can na even put inta words.  Amma allus said it's the way of our kind."

She nodded, encouraging him to continue.

"Growing up, we knew, we jus'
knew
that there were two kinds.  Some iliri kill, they called em berserkers in the early days, others could seduce or captivate.  My amma, she seduced.  She convinced our people ta hold onto traditions with little more than her charm.  But me?  I kill, kitten.  When I do it, it drives me.  It's the only release I can find most days.  Human women, they just do na tempt me, no more than..." he struggled to find a comparison.  "Than they tempt you, I guess.  Amma allus told me that I would na be able ta resist a seducer, though.  Since I first saw ya, I caught myself daydreaming 'bout ya.  When ya chose LT, I figur'd ya made it pretty clear, since ya do na follow the old ways and all."

He paused, and she let him, still caressing his arm, waiting.  "I figur'd ya was the seducing type, Sal.  I think LT is too, which is why he pulls at ya.  We call it vis.  Tonight, though, when I saw Zep carrying ya in, I saw the ice in yer eyes.  Kitten, I think yer a bit of both.  That's why I was there, I knew ya'd need someone ta tell ya it was ok.  Yer love of death calls ta mine, and yer, I dunno, yer love of life I guess, it makes me unable ta resist ya.  I never met a full iliri before, so I dunno if this is jus' how ya are.