Caress of Flame (7 page)

She nearly threw herself out the back door but she didn’t stop there. Isis sprinted full out, running as fast as she could, not heading in any specific direction, just
away
from the thing that dogged her heels.

It was almost as if she could feel the breath of the beast on the back of her neck. She screamed again and ran harder, until her tortured flesh screamed in agony. Within seconds she made it to the border of trees. She ran into the forest, not even bothering to avoid the branches that smacked her in the face and tore at her hair and clothing.

Nothing mattered now, no pain, no fear, no weariness. The only thing that mattered was getting away from this monster.

Isis ran deep into the forest. She ran until her sides felt like they were sliced open with razors and her lungs ached as if she weren’t breathing oxygen, but smoke. Hot, thickly cloying smoke that choked her painfully. Her mouth was dry and her face hurt from all the branches she was running into, and the blood was pounding heavily in her head. She heard a rumbling behind her, then a shrieking roar like the sound of a thousand dying souls. The sound terrified her even more than the sight of the thing, turning her overheated blood to ice in her fiercely pumping veins as she flew blindly through the trees.

Her foot caught painfully on an exposed root and she fell, hitting her chin hard on a stone and scraping her palms on the ground so that they stung and bled. She glanced back and shrieked as the monster came for her, claws outstretched.

Something snapped inside her. She had only felt such a strange sensation one other time in her life. It was as if something dark and deadly had reared its head inside of her 3mind and heart. Isis felt swollen with a sudden and fierce rage and there was no outlet—but for the Daemon.

With a wild cry she flew to her feet and launched herself at the monster. Striking out with her fist, with a power that was far beyond what any human should possess, she obliterated the monster’s hellish face. Bone and sinew crunched as her fist actually sank into a crater she had created with the force of her blow.

The monster fell at her feet and she was on him, her unbelievable rage making her brave beyond anything she could have imagined. She doubled her fists and brought them down over her head, striking the beast squarely in the heart. Her hands sank into flesh and goo, and hot, black blood spurted in every direction. She went nearly elbow deep into the chest cavity and felt around in the slime and gristle for the Daemon’s beating heart.

“Isis!”

She heard Flare call out to her but she was mindless and unable to answer him with anything but a roar of pure, hot anger.

Thick and heavy, like a living stone, the heart seemed to fall into her hands as if by magic. She jerked back, lifting the Daemon with the force of her movement, and pulled the heart free from its ravaged rib cage. The heart beat a fast staccato in her hand and she screamed in rage and despair, tearing the heart asunder. When she did so, the giant Daemon went limp beneath her, completely lifeless.

But she couldn’t stop what she had unleashed. Isis beat at the body over and over, her fists sinking deep into flesh and sinew with each powerful strike. She was covered from head to knees in thick, black blood and she stank of the monster—like rotting flesh and brimstone—but still she could not stop fighting. She realized that she was shrieking uncontrollably, her body shaking so hard that her teeth rattled. And though she wanted to, still she could not stop.

“Baby. Baby…it’s all right.”

She heard Flare’s words as if from miles away. She felt strong yet gentle arms come around her and pull her from the ravaged carcass, but she fought with all her might not to let go of her hold on the creature. Flare would not be deterred however, and he finally wrenched her away, turning her in his arms so that she didn’t have to see the horror of what she had done. He held her tight as she reflexively fought to be free from him—striking him with blows that would have crippled a human. He took her punishment, all the while talking in a low, soothing voice to try to reach her higher consciousness.

“Shhh. It’s over now, baby. You can stop fighting,” he murmured into her hair as he cradled her to him despite her waning struggles. “It’s dead. It’s gone.”

Isis fell to her knees, put her head in her hands and screamed. It was a long, tortured sound. She couldn’t believe the sound came from within her, but it went on and on endlessly, and she couldn’t stop it.

3Eventually, of course, she ran out of breath. She sat in the dirt and leaves and panted heavily. Flare bent down next to her and put his hands on either side of her head. He made her look at him and she tried hard to focus on his face with anger-blurred vision.

“Tamp down on your power, Isis. Use your will. The rage will pass.”

She took deep breaths and did as he commanded. With a resolve she didn’t know she was capable of, she pushed the anger away. It took a physical effort—her hands pushing against her wildly beating heart—and it exhausted her, but she did it. The fiery rage cooled until it was no more than a fly buzzing in the bright light of her mind, and she was once more capable of rational thought and intelligible speech.

Isis looked up at him bemusedly. “He hurt me,” she said, unable to think of anything more intelligent at the moment.

Flare was immediately concerned. “Where did he hurt you?” he asked with rushed words.

Her hand trembled as she reached behind her to feel the ravaged flesh of her back.

The pain, gone during her trip to psycho land, came back with a vengeance and she cried out before she could stop herself. “My back,” she told him, turning so that he could see her wounds. “The bastard cut me really deep.”

Flare studied her wounds. “I can heal these,” he reassured her. “I will steal the pain away, Isis. I promise.” He jerked the cloth of her dress down around her waist and laid his hands on her naked, torn flesh, palms flat against the bloodied plains of her back.

Searing heat burned her and she yelped then gritted her teeth to prevent any other sound from escaping and betraying her anguish.

The heat soon abated and instantly her back felt better. Breathing a heavy sigh of sweet relief, she relaxed and let him work his magic. The agony of her rent flesh faded until there was nothing left but soothing heat in its place. It took only minutes, but it felt more like hours before her suffering ended. But it
did
end—thanks to Flare’s amazing, healing touch.

He took her hands in his and stroked his fingertips over her ragged, bleeding palms. Isis actually witnessed the tiny lacerations closing, leaving only the traces of her spilt blood behind. She showed him the gash on her chin and he touched her there as well, warming her from head to toe with the enormous heat baking off his skin, and the pain was gone as if it had never been there.

“What the fuck just happened here?” she panted.

“I told you that you had power within you. This has been but a taste of that strength. You need to be taught to control it, to hone and perfect it so that it can be used as a weapon at any time. We’ll practice that later.”

Isis looked at him, eating him up with her eyes. She had never been so happy to see anyone in her life. She threw herself at him and he caught her easily, as if he’d been waiting for her to do just that. Isis wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth down to hers.

3The burn of his lips on hers was almost painful—he was just so hot. Literally. But Isis welcomed that heat and returned it with a passion she hadn’t known she was capable of, plunging her tongue into his sweet mouth to taste and tease.

Flare put his hands gently on either side of her face and tilted it just so, so that his lips could slant over hers as he took control of the kiss. He ravaged her mouth, but his hands were so soft, as if he was mindful of his own strength so as not to hurt her. Their hair ruffled in a small breeze, tangling, binding them together. Flare’s scent—spicy and woodsy—intoxicated her so that she grew dizzy and fell weakly against his chest, kissing him even more deeply.

Her heart beat a wild tattoo in her chest and her breath came in short gasps. Her breasts, still bared to the air with her dress rumpled at her waist, ached and felt heavy.

Her nipples felt like little stones on the crest of her breasts, hard and thick and tight. A feeling like being shocked with electricity washed from the top of her head straight to her pussy, and she was immediately wet and ready for him in a way she had never been ready for any other man before.

They were covered in evidence of their battles but neither cared. Flare’s hands left her face and moved to fist in the hair that spilled down the middle of her back, pulling her so close that she had to struggle to breathe. But it was all right. She had no fear, no anxiety—only pure need. Isis kissed him as she’d never kissed another, freely and eagerly putting all of her passion and mounting desire into the caress of fire in his lips on hers.

A strong breeze blew dry, fallen leaves about them, as if the wind felt their emotion and was responding in kind. They parted, both panting, with locked gazes and clasped hands.

“We need to get clean,” he told her softly, tucking a lock of hair behind her hair.

“Yes,” she agreed, finally looking down at herself. She was covered in blood and gore—not at all romantic. Still, it somehow didn’t matter. Isis knew that she would accept Flare on any terms, no matter the situation. She had bonded fast to him, something she had never experienced, and she wanted nothing more than to solidify their growing connection to each other.

Flare surged to his feet and lifted her hand to help her rise beside him. He took one look at the fallen body of the Daemon, as if he’d almost forgotten it was there. He winked at Isis, kissed his left index finger, pointed it at the Daemon and a stream of unchecked fire exploded from his fingertip, turning the body of the monster to ash in a matter of seconds. The stream of fire stopped as swiftly as it had begun and Flare blew on the tip of his finger so that a tiny stream of smoke rose up into the air.

“Let’s go get washed up.”

He tucked her protectively beneath his arm, clutching her close to his side in an awkward sort of hug. Isis held the tattered dress to her body. Even though she was far beyond caring about her nudity, it just seemed like the right thing to do. She fell into 3step beside him, matched her stride to his much longer one and leaned against him, quaffing from his seemingly endless well of strength.

They slowly walked back to the house by the light of the moon through the trees, hands clasped tight, fingers entwined and two hearts beating as one.

3
Chapter Six

Isis wanted to share the shower with him. But Flare would have none of it.

“You need a soft bed beneath you when you are beneath me,” he said arrogantly. “I won’t take you for the first time in the shower. You deserve better.”

As far as excuses went, it was perfect. Isis took the first shower, taking twice as long as she normally would have because it was nearly impossible to get all the blood off. It had dried to a hard, tar-like substance on her skin and it took several minutes of vigorous scrubbing to rid herself of the muck. When she was done, her skin was a rosy pink from head to toe. She grabbed a thick towel from the bar beside the shower and threw her heavy fall of wet hair over her shoulder, wrapping the towel around her body securely.

When she stepped from the bathroom Flare was right there waiting for her, and from the heated look in his unique golden eyes, she knew he was pleased with her freshly scrubbed face. She could understand why. Before her shower the makeup she’d put on the night before had been smeared all over her face, giving her an almost haggard look. Isis was happy to rid her skin of the cosmetics and doubly happy to see Flare’s reaction to her fresh new look.

Flare’s shower took a while as well, for he too had been covered in the filth of his battles. When he stepped from the bathroom with a towel draped around his waist, Isis was sitting at her dressing table, gazing into a mirror as she parted her hair evenly.

Flare came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. Isis looked up at him in the mirror, seeing how tall and dark he looked compared to her, standing so strong and still behind her.

His hair was wet and blue-black, falling far down his back. His jaw was square and strong, his nose straight and noble, his pouting lips a naturally rosy hue. The smooth muscles of his chest were massive, like a bodybuilder’s might have been. He had a toned six-pack on his midsection, his waist tapering down to lean hips then flaring out again at the thick musculature of his thighs. The muscles in his arms were the same—

his upper arms were so thick she wouldn’t have been able to put both hands around them had she tried. He was a magnificent specimen of a male, no matter his species.

Their gazes met and held. Desire was naked in their eyes. Isis stood up from her station at the table and turned to him. With trembling hands, she unknotted her robe and let it fall to the floor. The look of heat within his eyes emboldened her. She stepped closer to him and put her arms around his neck.

“Kiss me,” she whispered, tilting her head back to receive the soft, too gentle press of his lips.

4Isis wanted more. She used her tongue to open Flare’s mouth and taste him. He gave her his tongue and she suckled on it gently. Their teeth clicked together and that sensation made them both clutch tighter to each other. Flare fisted one hand in the hair at the middle of her back and used the other to cup her neck.

There was a moment when Isis was fully aware of just how easily Flare could kill her were he to tighten his hand around her neck. But the thought did not bring the expected fear and anxiety. She knew instinctively, the knowledge so strong it flowed through her veins, that he would never hurt her. And he would die to protect her.

That knowledge was heady, exponentially increasing her need, and she moaned into his mouth. He swallowed the sound and brought her tighter to him. The heavy, hard press of his cock was alarming, but only for a brief moment. And it wasn’t alarming for the reasons she might have been accustomed to. It was alarming because he was so incredibly huge.