Noah (28 page)

“Yes,” he said carefully, not sure where her mind was going in spite of his newfound access to it. “Demons…my people. Vampires. Lycanthropes, Mistrals, Shadowdwellers, and more recently Druids like yourself. Although, your combined human DNA makes it possible for you to live in the sun, whereas we cannot.”

“Thus the term Nightwalkers,” she said dryly. “This sounds like a plot for a computer game or something.” She paused a beat. “Why can’t you go in the sun? I mean, what happens? Do you poof into dust—or is that just a Vampire thing?”

“Each species has a weakness to the sun, each reacts differently. For Demons it is like walking into a sleep chamber. Everything about it is designed to make us fall deeply asleep. In muted light, or light colored through stained glass, the effect is wonderful and comforting. We sleep beautifully during the day when the sun filters in.” He slid a hand beneath her hair to palm the nape of her neck. He just felt better when he was touching her, soothing her somehow as he talked of wild and strange things. “Direct sunlight, for the young, is deadly. They can die if exposed too long. Adults will feel debilitating lethargy, making it impossible to move or defend themselves. Elders feel it, too, but those of us who are more powerful can defeat the effect for a period of time with tricks of power manipulation and the like.”

“You’re very powerful.”

It wasn’t a question. Especially not for one who could clearly look into a being and gauge exactly that. Plus, she had access to all of his thoughts and memories now. Some, when touched, would show a conflagration of power and furious firestorms.

“You will be, too,” he told her. It wasn’t meant to patronize. It was a stark truth. She had to be powerful in order to dampen his passionate fury. Very powerful. “They will develop faster now that you are remaining close to me. A Druid’s power comes from the touch of his or her soul mate. Druids need to feed on that Demon’s energy in order to recharge themselves.”

“Feed?” She sounded momentarily horrified as she tensed against him.

“Mmm. Like a battery. A toy feeds off the battery to function. In our case, that means being in each other’s presence. Being close. Over time, it will not be so restrictive a symbiosis. But we will always need to remain in contact.”

Kestra slid out of his lap, kneeling to face him and sitting back on her heels. Noah trailed his fingers off her neck, clearly reluctant to let her go. She shook out her sugary hair, the straight fall settling a little wildly around her shoulders. Her bold eyes regarded him for a moment.

“I don’t care for the idea of being dependant on anyone.”

“It is not a dependence, Kestra. It is a symbiosis. I provide for you, and you provide for me. It is the Imprinting. I could not survive without you any more than you could without me. Look into my thoughts. See what it has been like for me. See the nights of the Hallowed moons and their waxing and waning the weeks around.”

He showed her. Kes was struck instantly with memories of those nights. Dark and gripping urges. Primal impulses to give in to the elemental nature of his power. It was like an endless whisper, growing louder as the moon waxed, begging him to respond, to obey. It cried for fire and mischief. Flame and passion. The body burned with need, a violent ache that even a menagerie of women couldn’t sate, so he’d stopped trying. He hadn’t taken a woman to his bed during Samhain or Beltane for centuries now. He’d suffered alone, burned alone. For ages he had been saved by the loving presence of his sister as she grew into her wondrous powers of the Mind. Her humor and knowing ways, her ability to ease his emotions just with the power of her voice. It wasn’t a cure, but enough to keep his sanity.

But he had been so afraid when she’d left his home to be with her mate, Gideon. And he’d been right to be fearful. Not for himself. No. He never truly thought of himself. He thought of the others. The innocents. He was certain that if he lost control, he would destroy everyone he loved. He had hung on, every year worse than the previous, but never showing it. Never showing his torture, in order to be a figure of support for those who looked to him for their own sanity.

The recent years had been hell. Without Legna’s calming influence, he’d suffered and screamed and blistered. He’d waited until he knew he would be alone, then gone to a cavern he had found a few miles away. The entire cavern was burnt and blackened from the release he had found. He’d scorched everything. Blasts, explosions, and streams of flame—his body covered in sweat, soot, and smoke, his power igniting until he exhausted himself beyond consciousness. He’d wake shortly after because he
was
energy, and his body easily regenerated. Then he would return to the Hall to try to study, or he would lose himself in sleep.

And then, last Beltane, he’d dreamed of her. He had lain in the cavern, exhausted and gasping for consciousness, and he’d dreamed of her. Her fire and her fight, her passion marking him for all time, the blaze between them more than anything he could create, blissful beyond anything he could imagine. He had awakened that time and every time after screaming with need, his body aching, heavy, and hard until he was in unfathomable pain. As empty as she had felt, so had he felt unfulfilled.

And then…

Lost.

He found her one second, and the next she was lost. Kestra saw what he had seen; saw the death she had met. The aftermath was a conflagration of rage and blind devastation. But he had rescued her. He had found a way. The path through hell. A walk through the defection from all he believed in, all he held most precious in morals and love and his very soul.

Again, lost. Control lost, friends lost, respect lost. Love and trust lost perhaps beyond repair. And as Samhain loomed so close, time was lost as he desperately tried to bring her into his world as smoothly as he could. As he tried to know her and let her know him. Their encounter in the parlor hadn’t even begun to satisfy him, to satisfy her. The physical was an impulse; the emotional was an essential. It was her soul and her heart that he needed to soothe the beast of Fire inside him. It was her feminine power, her back-burn that would stop him in his path and forever keep him from causing harm or uncontrollable destruction. The passion of their bodies was just a symbolic explosion of their symbiosis, perhaps one day of their love, and definitely an outlet for the Fire within them both. One that would cause no harm to them or to others when their symbiotic relationship clicked into perfect position.

Kestra struggled to her feet, aware he was following her every movement, but he didn’t touch her, knowing she was overwhelmed again and needed to just breathe and think. She sat on the bed and took deep breaths, not looking at him but feeling him hovering at the foot of the bed watching her, probably reading her mind. It was such a vast responsibility! She would be responsible for the sanity of a King, the sanity of a being of such enormous power, a power meant to be contained by her parasitic presence.

But as frightening as that was, she wasn’t afraid of facing it. She felt inside herself that place of equal measure that was growing. She suddenly understood that she had scanned the power of an Ancient and powerful being, had taken him by surprise even. She’d shown him a path he’d been seeking for for centuries. In one heartbeat she’d started him in the direction of power that even his vast wisdom had been unable to find.

Her body was growing stronger. She’d be able to heal rapidly, she’d been told. Yes, this she was more than capable of handling. She worshipped strength, embraced the undiscovered thrill of the future she’d have as a being of power and the responsibilities that came with it.

She looked at Noah, understanding that helping him abate his Fire was going to be her top priority. It would mean passion beyond her wildest imaginings. This made her heart race, but there was no fear. There was hunger. No.
Starvation
. She was thirty-two years old. In all that time, there had been nothing but a frigid, gray existence where her body only felt alive flying in the face of danger.

But here lay a potential feast of feeling, spread before her in the form of a beautiful man, a magnificent lover, and a good soul. He would set her body to burn in a thousand ways, and she could see it in his quickly clouding eyes. Noah was in her mind, so he knew her thoughts. His hand was wrapped around a post at the foot of the bed, his knuckles white and lips pressed with restraint. Honor. Nobility at its most extreme.

Find the fear, Kestra
, she thought to herself.
What should you be afraid of? Where is the danger? Don’t walk in without knowing the danger.

She was afraid she couldn’t love him as he deserved. She was terrified of the danger that would cause to herself and others. He’d proved her body wasn’t frigid. Could he do the same for her unpracticed, unwilling heart?

Noah came around the bed, walked to her, and took her chin between his fingers. He tilted her face up until their eyes met. “In this one thing, I ask you to trust me. I can show you the way. You think you are incapable of loving, but you also treat yourself as if you had no life before you were eighteen. You have pushed away the love of your parents, your friends, and your remaining family. But it was once there, Kes. You did love.”

“And they suffered for it. I suffered for it,” she said icily. “I will not love only to lose. What if—”

“No.” He cut her off instantly. “Do not go to that place. You do not belong there. You never second-guess, never doubt. You only prepare, be safe, practice, learn, and grow in skills. These have been your precepts for all of your adult life. You chose not to live in fear in all things save love. It is time you apply those principles to that which frightens you the most. You look into your heart, see its needs, see its penchants toward me, and all you see is danger.” He leaned closer to her, his sensual mouth smiling slightly as it hovered close to hers. “Jump, Kes. Just jump off and trust all your safety systems to work. Jump, throw your arms out, and feel the rush. It is incredible, and it is worth every second of it.”

“Now, the trick with Demons,” Cygnus lectured, as if he were a professor at Cambridge, “is to know their element. The ideal is to catch them in the daytime, when they are sleeping, but that way is very painful.”

The others chuckled, except Cygnus’s brother. Quinton was not amused. He had to grudgingly admit that Cygnus was really good at stalking Nightwalkers. They each now had aspects of Mistral and Shadowdweller in addition to their Vampire skills. They were confident they could take down a few of the lesser Demons. An adult. The women were not powerful and not worth it, so it had to be males.

“However, there is an advantage we mustn’t overlook. Samhain.” Cygnus grinned. “It’s tomorrow. I have something good planned for tomorrow, but tonight is pretty powerful in itself and, well…let’s just say there are going to be a lot of horny Demons out there. Catch one while it is rutting, and he will never have a chance. Capturing the power of a Demon for ourselves, no Summoning necessary.” He chuckled with the others. “The trick is, what element to choose?”

“We need no telepathy or healing.”

“Do not rule out Mind and Body. Mind Demons teleport and Body Demons have astral projection powers as well. For both reasons, however, it would risk exposing us if they got the opportunity to warn others. I would say a Water Demon. Or Wind. Both have weather abilities. Shape-changing to mist or wind, that would be very advantageous. Earth Demons are dangerous even at an early age.”

“No Fire?”

“Fire,” Cygnus mused. He made a show of tapping his chin in thought, and then he gave an evil grin. “That is what Samhain will be saved for. There is only one male Fire Demon. The Demon King. It would be the best time. He will be alone. The castle will be abandoned to the holiday after festivities. I figure if we get Water and Wind tonight, he will not be able to fight both with his Fire.”

“It would be wise to wait. To practice untried abilities,” Quinton argued. “There is time for Beltane.”

“Perhaps. We shall see what happens tonight. I have other ideas as well. We will have a glorious time either way. Follow me, I think I see our first candidate.”

They fell into the shadows behind an unsuspecting young Demon male.

Noah kissed her then, feeling their hearts beating the same wild rhythm. His mouth stroked against her softer one, gently tasting her lips, little sips of that natural sweetness that he simply couldn’t figure out the source of. He had to believe it was just Kes, only Kes. His Kes.

“My Kes,” they said together, against each other’s mouths. Noah smiled just as she reached to kiss him a little deeper, and she laughed into his mouth just before their tongues touched.

“Do I really taste like sugar?” she asked between breaths and kisses.

“Find out for yourself,” he encouraged her, the invitation somehow sounding sexy and forbidden. She pulled back, looking at him curiously, taking a moment to think. He reached to stroke a lone finger through her bangs, completely under the spell of watching her think about so many things, feeling her struggle with small surges of caution and apprehension.

He met her eyes with purpose, lowering to touch her mouth, sweeping his tongue playfully across her lower lip. He made an appreciative sound, licking her taste off his lips, his eyes gleaming with a smoky dare.

Kestra reached for the back of his head, securing him by lacing his hair between her nestling fingers. She held his eyes, searched them for a moment, and then he felt her flickering through his senses, felt her adjust for a moment to being behind his eyes, focusing on herself and how he saw her to be.

“You are beautiful,” they said, her merge into his thoughts so perfect every time that she kept mistaking his impulses to speak for her own.

Noah left his eyes open, wanting her to see and feel everything he could provide, wanting her to know what a blessing it was for him to have her. He took her mouth gently, ignoring the inviting parting of her lips for a moment so she could pay attention to the full effect. He inhaled slowly and deeply, catching her scent, bringing it deep into his lungs where it stirred up sensory memory of over a hundred cotton candy dreams. They made an aching sound of pleasure as just these small traces of data sent stabs of heat streaking like hundreds of little fireballs down through his body.

When he finally nudged his way into her mouth, sweeping her taste onto his tongue, she could feel his heartbeat quickening, could feel his arousal as if it were her own, so unbelievably heavy, a straining need for her, for even the slightest detail of her. She did taste like sugar. At least she did to him. And she was shocked to find it was the truth, although she hadn’t truly doubted him. His senses were so different than hers, so much sharper, so focused and powerful. She could hear her own heartbeat through his ears; she could smell the teasing flirtation of her own excitement.

Kestra gasped, jerking back away and into her own mind, her eyes wide with wonder and her cheeks stained with a ridiculous blush.

“I d-didn’t realize…” she stuttered softly, pressing her hands to her face. “Your senses are so…so strong.” She laughed. “I have the strangest and most desperate urge to take a shower.”

“You do not require one,” he said. “But I am ever the gracious host.”

He reached for her hand and jerked her up from the bed and against his body. He secured her to himself with a tight arm around her waist, fitting her to every detail of his incredibly healthy form. His gray and green eyes were dark and knowing with his blatant desire for her. She was mesmerized and couldn’t look away. He kept her feet barely touching the floor, moved, leading her backward across the room, again that debilitating tango that destroyed her equilibrium and every other thought that had nothing to do with him. He drew her entire focus, body and soul, making her feel his body, his eyes showing her his soul.

Forever.

She saw it. Maybe she heard it. But most of all she felt it. She felt his certainty of it, and knew it was the truth. He would never tire of her, he’d never be able to hurt her, he couldn’t betray her and could protect them both from all the dangers she could imagine and even those she hadn’t yet come to know. It wasn’t an absolute. Life and death were absolutes in and of themselves, and no one could change what would be.

Except he had defied that. He’d cheated death for her. Who else would ever give her such a gift? Who else would ever need her so much? Need but release when she required a separate peace. Argue but reason. Communicate though speechless.

They entered the bathroom, gaslights flaring brightly to life though he touched no switches. Candles flamed on their wicks, then lowered to muted softness. He moved her, his masculine body rippling with power and grace against her with each step. He smelled so good that she leaned in to him to breathe the smoky scent of his essence. He stopped their progress, simply feeling the sensations running over him as she did this, knowing she took pleasure in it just as he took delight in the fragrance of her.

“You showered, but you still smell like me,” she noted on a whisper under his ear.

“I could not possibly wash you away even with a thousand showers, baby,” he said, his intensity giving her a delightful shiver. “You are a part of me now.”

“Why is it when you call me ‘baby’ I don’t want to punch you out like I usually do when men think they can call me that?”

“Mmm, I have an answer for that, but I will keep my counsel on it for a little while longer.” She lifted her head and narrowed her ice blue eyes on him. He covered the glare with a hand, making her laugh. “No fair reading my thoughts. Not about something I have just deemed semiprivate. You have no scruples.”

“I confess I do not. Well, I do have the important ones.” She watched as he reached into the shower stall behind her and turned on the taps. Steaming water streamed into the huge cubicle from all sides. “I just believe that if you have a resource, it should be utilized.”

“You may revise your opinion when you are in a roomful of telepaths and empaths.” He tested the temperature of the water with his fingertips. When it met his satisfaction, he looked into her eyes.

Kestra felt her breath clogging in her throat when she read the blatant craving in his look. Her hands came to his biceps reflexively, clinging to him as she waited with a pounding heart for his next move. He made it, stepping back from her, though his eyes never left her face and body as he watched steam tumble from the shower, casting opaque clouds around her.

“Undress for me, Kestra,” he instructed her in a low, male command, his voice rumbling with sheer sensuality of purpose.

Kestra leaned back against the glass of the shower for a breathless minute, her heart throbbing painfully in her breast. Slowly, she reached for the hem of the red velvet dress.

“No. The other way, Kes,” he huskily scolded her, his eyes flickering like jade gems with their intensity.

She understood. The neckline of the dress was such that she could easily step out of it. She reached for her shoulders, slipping the dress down. She had a natural sensuality that made every movement sexy and riveting. She felt it within herself, but now, under the fixed hunger of his gaze, it became amplified. Her gymnast’s body always stood posed in a perfect curve of the spine and thrown-back shoulders, but her desire to be tempting to him added a slink to her backbone and a tilting curve to the pitch of her shoulders. She wriggled her arms out of the sleeves of the brief dress, then slowly peeled the top down.

Noah watched with total possession, welcoming the instant need gripping and clawing its way through him this time. He remembered the bra he had chosen earlier, a demicup of black and scarlet jacquard satin, the straps thin and black and doing so little to contain so much soft, enticing flesh. She hooked her thumbs in the dress and slowly worked it down her body, revealing the bra and all the lush beauty of her skin and curves. Noah’s breath left him in a violent decompression of air. She was more beautiful than he could bear. Her skin was so perfect, her face, hair, and body all so flawless and so unbelievably tempting. Perhaps he was blinded by prejudice, but if it were so, then he welcomed his ignorance with open arms and a body she had turned to steel with longing. He wanted to learn every inch of her, he thought as she slid the dress past the curve of her waist and on to the swells of her hips.

Kestra watched Noah’s hands curl into rock-solid fists, his stance becoming visibly more rigid, his jaw tightening perceptibly. A smile of feminine satisfaction blossomed in her mind as she watched him. She purposely shifted her legs, sliding one thigh against the other, causing a soft undulation of her hips just as she pushed the dress farther down. She tilted her head down so she was looking at him with blue flames in her eyes, staring hard at him through her lashes. She looked predatory, aroused, as if she knew exactly what she wanted, and it was no illusion. She released the dress and it fell to her ankles. She took a single step out to the side, widening her stance. She listened. She watched.

Noah was rooted in a web of his own making. He watched as she flared into erotic life, as she turned his own game against him with painfully artful ease. She slid her hands up her hips, palms spreading out over her belly as if she were touching herself as she would want him to touch her. She turned wickedly meaningful eyes on him as her hands slid up over her ribs, then her breasts. Noah’s entire psyche screamed out with voracious need. He had to forcefully drag in his next breath, though it did nothing to oxygenate blood that was pooling in one specific place on his body. He felt as though he were hard from head to toe. His clothes were strangling him. She purposely looked below his belt, smiling a sexy little smile of satisfaction as she flicked open the front catch of her bra and peeled it back from her skin. Her gorgeous breasts and their darkly colored nipples were thrust forward as she shrugged her shoulders back and allowed the bra to glide easily from her arms.

Kestra hooked her thumbs into the tiny fabric edges of her panties, but this time she didn’t play him as she removed them with a sexy little slide down her legs. Her eyes were still on him, the hunger making him pulse with painful need, which pumped up in intensity with every step she took toward him. She crossed to him in no time at all, because he hadn’t gone far, and she pressed her naked body to his clothed one.

“Kiss me,” she demanded on a hot, hoarse breath.

He did. With all the fire and desire and want raging through his entire being. She slid tighter and tighter against him, making him groan as he felt the heat of her skin through his clothes, the curves of her body rubbing sensually against him. Her hands reached for his, and she guided his palm to her breast, moaning into his mouth with relief and pleasure as he cupped her tightly in his hand. He was a little rough, bruising in his fever, but she didn’t mind. In fact, it wasn’t enough for her. She released him once he had his touch on her and slid her hand down his chest, over his belly and buckle, finding the straining swelling behind his zipper with a firm, sure stroke.

Noah swayed, unable to keep from surging against the powerful temptation of her palm, unwilling to pass up the pleasure of her strong, assured fingers. His free hand grasped hers, holding her tight against himself as he ground forward into that torturous touch.

She laughed at him, the sound throaty and excited with the power she had over what he was feeling. Acting torridly, Noah suddenly shoved her away. She stumbled back, her breasts swaying. She was laughing at him still as she openly licked the flavor of his kisses from her lips. He yanked off his shirt in a single movement, throwing it at her face as she continued to chuckle with her eyes so obviously full of naughty thoughts, and the thoughts to match drifting blatantly in her mind for him to read and know.

She seemed to abruptly remember that the shower was running just as he grabbed for his belt. She stepped back twice, all that was needed for her to meet the torrent of sprays. The water hit her like a thousand stars, beads and rivers of prismatic crystal light that glistened off her face, lashes, breasts, and her long, heartbreaking legs. She sighed with delight, reaching to brace herself against the glass and tile with a hand on either side of herself. She only opened her eyes when she felt his body finally come close to hers. She held her breath as she looked at him, a long, appreciative appraisal.