The Lost Soul Trilogy (Primani Book 5) (81 page)

BOOK: The Lost Soul Trilogy (Primani Book 5)
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He laid his hand over mine and said, “Take your time, baby. We’ve got all night.” He traced the rune on my hand and smiled slowly. “This night’s for you. I’m going to spoil you, so just relax and let me.”

I nibbled on the bread. “You’re a mystery.”

“Why’s that?”

I was idly tracing the strong bones of his hand and enjoying the feel of his blood flowing under the surface. “You’re so powerful, but you’re so gentle with me…I know your strength, but you treat me like I might break. Why are you so good to me? I’m not fragile.”

He shrugged and offered me a tiny, sweet berry. The fruit exploded in my mouth and I couldn’t resist kissing his fingers. These little berries were ridiculously good. About the size of a thumbnail, they burst into a sweet floral juice that was very different from the strawberries in America. I could move to France just for these berries.

“You don’t need to ask me that. You should know the answer. Think with your heart, not your head.”

He tugged me to my feet and wrapped an arm around my waist. Leaning me back over his arm, he nibbled the pulse at the base of my throat. His breath was hot against my skin. He smelled of strawberries and bread and the wild forest scent that surrounded him. My head swam happily and I closed my eyes. Before lifting me upright, his mouth trailed kisses from my throat to the tie of the sarong.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly. “Your eyes are glazed.”

Groaning dramatically, I pressed against him and ran my hands underneath his shirt to feel the warm muscle there. “I’m not going to be responsible for my actions in another 30 seconds. You’re taking chances with my powers. Look! My fingers are glowing!” I wiggled the tips of my fingers. They were glowing whitely in the candlelight of the room. “I might accidently blow you up.”

With a smug glance, he said, “This is your fault. You wanted a full night with me. Are you telling me you can’t
handle
a full night with me?” He scratched his head in mock concern. “This could be a deal breaker for me. I was planning for us to spend eternity together. I’m going to want you--a lot. Am I going to have to sleep on the couch?”

My heart stopped with a loud clang in my chest. “Eternity? What are you saying?”

Without answering, he walked us into the starlit bedroom and lifted me to the bed. Climbing up with me, he leaned into my face and said very solemnly, “I can’t sleep on the couch. I have a bad back.”

 

The dream drifted into my subconscious as I lay on the cusp of sleep. I was limp as a ragdoll curled under Killian’s heavy arm. His heat lulled me into oblivion. As I sank deeper into sleep, someone called to me. My name drifted on the winds, leading me forward through the dawn light. As blind as a sleepwalker, I stumbled down a set of crumbling stone steps into an ancient place of magic. I sensed the magic, but the physical building in front of me was a modern church. It was old and decaying, but certainly not ancient. The land though, that was a different story. The land was very old. Under the church lay an altar and relics that would change the world.

“Mica!” The voice was louder here. A man called to me.

I looked around for the man. It sounded as if he were right next to me. There was no one. As I watched, the air shimmered and the ground shook under my feet. The sound of a million screams echoed in the silence of the mist. The shaking stopped and I stood transfixed with my heart in my throat. The ancient world lay superimposed over today’s relics. The two realities shimmered over each other until only the older one remained. I ducked my head and entered the dwelling.

The stone altar was new. The cut marks were still visible and the runes were sharp, not yet weathered by the years and elements. A small brazier glowed with peat, sending an earthy smell into the air. A man stood at the altar with his back to me. Wearing only a pair of loose-fitting brown pants, his back gleamed with sweat in the humid air. His long black hair was twisted into several loose braids to keep it out of his face. His brilliant blue eyes met mine as he turned to greet me.

“There you are. You’re late.”

“Killian?”

He took a step in my direction and the room began to undulate. He reached out a hand but the walls had already blurred into the other reality and his face faded.

His frantic voice rang through my mind as I drifted away from him. “Mica, no!”

 

I sat up blinking in the darkness. Killian stirred and mumbled, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing…weird dream, that’s all.” I lay back down trying to make sense of the dream.

He shifted so I could scrunch back against him again but I sprawled face to face with him instead. I was exhausted, but I wanted to feel him close to me. After that dream, something had shifted inside of me. A click of understanding; a need to catch up…I couldn’t stop thinking about the dream. The image of a much different Killian filled my head. His body was thinner, his hair longer, but the face was the same. His expression had been warm, welcoming, when he’d turned to me. His eyes…Something told me to hurry, to hold him, to stop time from running out.

His breathing was deep and even with sleep when I ran my palm down his back and across his butt. God, he was so big; so strong, powerful. Mine. I wanted to drag him against me and bury my fingers into the hard muscle of his back but I kept my fingers light. My heart pounded as the images from the dream floated behind my eyes. Hurry, hurry, hurry…I didn’t notice the exact second his breathing changed, but he hissed low in his throat and caught my hand against his erection. He was smoldering hot and wide awake now.

Without a word, he caught my mouth with his and pulled my legs apart.

“Closer…I need to be closer to you…” I murmured nearly frantic with a lingering sense of sand slipping through the hourglass. “Don’t wait; you’ll be lost.”

Catching my urgency, he clutched me against him, pulling my ankles around his back. It didn’t seem close enough and I whispered desperately, “I want all of you…all before you’re gone again.”

 

Sometime later, the sun was peeping through the sheers and Killian got up quietly. I didn’t open my eyes but I was definitely awake. The night came flooding back to me and I turned purple with embarrassment. Good Lord, I’d attacked him. I wasn’t shy about sex. In general, it was a lovely thing and I liked it. With Killian, I more than liked it. But I usually just melted into a puddle and followed his lead. It worked for us. But last night…I’d acted like a…an animal. I closed my eyes as the images of our sexcapades flashed across my mind. Jesus, Mica! What were you thinking? I lost my mind! It was that dream! It made me crazy!

“Here, babe.” Killian was back and handed me a cup of coffee. He looked exhausted but alive. His face was paler than usual and he had dark circles under his eyes. He turned to pull the curtains and I gasped out loud.

He looked quizzically at me and turned to look in the mirror. He broke into a satisfied smirk. “All ten nails? They sting like hell. I hope they scar.”

“Just shoot me now!” I buried my head under the covers.

Tugging up the corner of the sheet, he leaned under and kissed me long and hard. My brain short-circuited after the first ten seconds; by the time he broke off the kiss, I wasn’t thinking at all.

Twenty minutes later, I stretched and moaned at the aches and pains. “Will it always be this way with us?”

“What way is that?” He kissed my shoulder and tucked my fingers inside his hand.

Would I crave him like water? Would I want him every second of every day? Would my heart always pound at the touch of his fingers? Would I love him this way forever? I blushed at my thoughts and he laughed at me.

“Baby, welcome to your destiny.”

Snorting at the smug tone of his voice, I said primly, “Somehow I don’t think this is what Raphael was thinking when he saved me.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised. Let’s get up though. We’re going to play tourist today. You deserve a vacation. Let’s go play with some humans.”

 

“Here, eat this.” Killian offered me a chunk of cheese. “It’s a picnic, remember?”

Obediently, I opened my mouth and let him feed me. The soft cheese was delicious and I savored the flavor before swallowing it. He’d been carefully feeding me since we got here. A girl could get used to this kind of pampering…We were lying in the grass in a sprawling green park near the Eiffel Tower. The tower loomed over us standing guard over Paris. Its intricate construction was surely a miracle of man. Crowds of tourists waited in line for the dubious thrill of climbing all the way to the top. I was perfectly content to lie with my head in Killian’s lap and watch everyone else work hard.

“Do you remember when it was built?” I asked.

“Oh, sure. It was a huge deal. The French were very proud.”

“You don’t sound too impressed.”

He shrugged and offered me some ham. “I had other things on my mind at the time. French architecture didn’t make my Top Ten List.”

 

The sun had set on a perfect day. We were about to go out and mingle among the beautiful and stylish people of the Paris night scene.

Killian’s eyes darkened when I twirled for him. “Wow!” He took my hand and turned me around for a longer look. “Remind me to buy you ridiculously expensive clothes from now on; they suit you.”

Blushing at his husky tone, I leaned way up and kissed him. “The clothes are beautiful, but you know you don’t have to do that. I’m not fussy.”

Running his hand over the silky material of the dress, he kissed my bare shoulder and said, “I am.”

With that, he waved me out of the door and wrapped his arm around me as we made our way outside. We were planning to walk around until we found an interesting bar or club to check out. Killian was more relaxed than I’d seen him outside of Eden. He seemed less Primani and more boyfriend than ever before.

“I’m always on duty.” He moved my hand to the hard outline of the knife under his shirt. “Demons don’t take a holiday. They’re here.”

Wandering here and there, we finally ended up on a small cobblestone street liberally dotted with cafes and bars. Music of all kinds competed for attention. Throngs of young people crowded the narrow street and the atmosphere was upbeat. The frantic bass thump of techno vibrated the sidewalk under my feet. A darkened stairway led to an underground club called
Sortilege
.

Killian translated, “Magic Spell. How appropriate.”

“Let’s go dance!”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t say no. Killian was most definitely
not
a dancer. Laughing up at him, I begged, “Please! Let’s just go inside. We can leave if you hate it!”

The door opened and a blast of bass hit us like a shockwave. My skin tingled with the pressure and I dragged Killian down the stairs. After slipping some money to the skinny guy inside the door, Killian let me lead him through the maze of bodies. The club was minimalist. Meaning it had no décor. The walls were painted black and white and the only decoration was the seizure-causing strobe lights bouncing hypnotically over everything. I let my eyes linger too long and nearly fell over. Killian caught my elbow and steered me towards an empty spot by the wall. Most of the people were too into the music to notice us, but the few that did hastily stepped to one side. I shrugged in apology when one guy backed up so fast his friend spilled his drink down his shirt.

He started to say something to Killian and I shook my head in warning. You really don’t want to go there, dude. He gave Killian a second look and opted to shove his friend into the wall instead. Now standing with a good view of the dance floor, I let the impossible beat seep into my pores like air. It was amazing! I turned to smile up at Killian and caught a group of women ogling him. There were three of them. All were dressed to kill and built like supermodels; which translated into undernourished and bony. They were giggling and elbowing each other, each trying to get up the nerve to do more than stare. I had to admit he was something special to see. In all the years I’d known him, I’d really only seen him dressed in three ways: commando black from head to toe; faded jeans and black concert t-shirts; or naked.

To be honest, ‘naked’ was my favorite outfit, but it was probably illegal here. To avoid spending time in a French jail or being assaulted by gangs of horny French women, he’d bought some clothes and cleaned up just fine. More than fine, he was smoking hot. Not interested in the skinny jean look, he rocked a pair of charcoal grey straight-legged jeans with a smoky-blue t-shirt. The shirt was expensive and the material draped over his muscles like second skin. It wasn’t clingy, but you could definitely make out the bulky muscles of his chest and shoulders. The color made his eyes even more impossibly blue.

“I might have to shoot one of those women,” I whispered in his ear.

Glancing sideways, he caught their eyes and gave them a broad wink and a sexy smile. They twittered like a flock of birds. He grinned down at me. “Oh, are they doing something wrong?”

“They’re drooling all over themselves. It’s disgusting.”

He pulled me up for a long slow kiss that left no doubt in anyone’s mind that he was taken. His eyes smoldered gently and he murmured, “Let’s get out of here.”

We were heading towards the exit when he suddenly stopped and tensed. Following his stare, I groaned inwardly. Of course…it was too much to ask to have a perfectly demon-free day. We were overdue.

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