I was so transfixed on the arrow I noticed the moment it stopped mid-air and gravity took over.
I opened my mouth to ask if that was supposed to happen and hesitated at the wicked gleam in his black eyes. My teeth clanked as my mouth snapped shut.
We stared at each other for a hard moment, my irritation and his amusement slowly transforming to something else.
“Try again,” he said. The wind rustled, sweeping the edge of my flannel up to send a trail of gooseflesh across my bare midriff. Laran’s eyes heated as they flicked to the pale stretch of skin.
I swallowed against the lump in my throat and lifted my arm again. Moving to grab the bolt, warm fingers wrapped around my upper arm as he stilled me.
“I need the bolt...” I trailed off at the gleam of silver already in position and cocked to fly.
Magic. Seelie magic. Taking it in stride, I stopped, took aim, and breathed. Hold. Release. With the snap of my wrist I watched the bolt fly and once again drop out of nowhere.
I frowned. That wasn’t normal, but the only consistent part of it was me and the crossbow. So, either the damn thing was broken—or the much more likely option—it was me.
“What am I doing wrong?” My voice came out sultry. Huskier than I expected. I groaned into my hand, wishing for the umpteenth time that I didn’t sound like a thirsty bitch. I’d rather be able to shoot a man instead of fucking one. That would show real talent.
One of these took effort.
“Not focusing hard enough,” Laran answered. His eyes dipped to my lips and I instinctively ran my tongue along the edges of my teeth before remembering myself and biting down on my lip to hide that devilish tongue away. I swear, some days it had a mind of its own where the Horsemen were concerned.
“Not hard enough?” My voice was all purr as my gaze swept down to his jeans and back up. Laran let out a small growl.
“Focus, Ruby.”
A smirk made its way to my lips as I slid my gaze back to my target. Focus. I inhaled deeply, closing my eyes. Holding my breath, I opened them again, and breathed—letting the bolt fly.
It soared and my smile split wide as I watched it close in on the target—only to fall. Again.
“Damnit,” I swore under my breath.
“Focus on the target, not the arrow,” Laran’s breath fanned my ear. I gasped, turning my face to look at him. Strong fingers brushed down my jaw as Laran faced my head forward. “Focus,” he murmured. My breath stuttered as I lifted my arm, aiming the bolt again.
Calloused fingertips pressed into my hip bones, pulsating warmth into my skin beneath the thick material. Sweat dotted my brow as those same fingers swept down, under my shirt and back up, skating along my ribs to my— “Focus,” he growled.
“I’m trying,” I snapped back. “Hard to do that when you can’t keep your hands to yourself.”
The warmth disappeared instantly as he removed his hands and stepped away. Sweeping towards the fruit I was aiming for, he waited expectantly. Pissed at him for moving away and pissed with myself for telling him to, I aimed at the fig and snapped my wrist, but my attention was all on Laran.
The bolt released, shooting through the air in a wide arc and whipping around. It defied all physics as it shot at Laran and landed in the thick muscle of his arm. A strangled noise slipped from my lips as I dropped my hand away and stepped towards him. Laran didn’t blink or bat an eyelash as he held my gaze and reached over to grasp the bolt sticking out, ripping it free.
“Laran!” I crowed, diving forward. I whipped my shirt off to press against the bleeding gash in his arm. Meanwhile, War just smiled as if this was all very amusing.
“I’ll be fine, Ruby,” he said quietly. “It’ll heal.”
“You don’t know that,” I replied stubbornly.
“Oh, but I do,” he grinned again. “Lift up the shirt.”
“No.”
“Suit yourself,” he growled. Grasping my hips, he pulled me to him as his lips came down on mine. Laran kissed with a wildness that was all fire. His lips parted mine with ease, his tongue tasting me. Not hesitant or challenging, Laran’s kiss didn’t demand—it gave. Everything and all that he was, he poured into that kiss. Into me.
I arched my back into him, holding the shirt tight to his wound as I reached up to wrap my other arm around the crook of his neck. Laran pulled back with a groan, sucking my bottom lip as he did. With a pop, he released my lip, his hands reaching down to slide over the sides of my breasts that already ached for his touch, across my abdomen, all the way to the ‘v’ of my hips. His knuckles brushed the sensitive skin, just underneath the hem of my flannel, and I jumped, letting out a gasp.
“What are you doing?” I asked with a shaky breath. My hooded eyes looked both ways, but no one appeared to be around.
“Motivating you.” With one arm, Laran held me tight to his chest, my head resting on the curve where his neck met his shoulder. He leaned into me, his lips skimming the column of my throat while his teeth left nibbling bites that sent jolts of pleasure shooting through me. Strong fingers slid between our bodies, pressing into the seam of my jeans. He ran them back and forth, finding my clit through the thick material and twisting his arm to press his palm into me. It only took seconds and I was panting.
“Oh, good god—”
“There’s no god here, baby. Only me and you,” he rumbled as I rocked into him. A low moan slipped from my lips.
“This is so wrong,” I groaned. “You’re hurt.” Even as I said it, I pressed the shirt harder, but didn’t stop. Laran pressed his other hand into my back, urging my rocking as all the tension of the trip settled on me looking for a way out. I chased my release, tilting my head back to part my lips in a plea.
“Laran I’m going to—” He stepped away before I could finish, his bloody t-shirt slipping from my fingers. With his heat gone I was too cold, but also too hot. Needy. I’d have dropped my jeans and bent over right there if he asked me, but he didn’t. He stopped, despite the slight taste of his kama on my lips and the red particles floating in the air.
“Focus, baby girl.” His eyes blazed despite his steady words and my body ached for him.
“I want you,” I breathed.
“Prove to me you can hit your target and I’ll take you however you want.”
A challenge? Oh man, I hadn’t hit a damn thing except his arm.
“And if I don’t?” I asked.
“Then you have to find your own release,” he answered. His eyes filled with fire. Light and shadows flickered there, existing side by side. I took a deep, steady breath and aimed.
My eyes zeroed in on the fruit and this time when I snapped my wrist, the bolt flew true.
The fig fell from the tree limb, but my attention was on the glorious male kneeling at my feet as he undid the buttons on my jeans with a wolfish grin on his lips.
My pants didn’t even hit the floor before his mouth was on me.
Laran spread my folds and pressed his tongue flat against the bundle of nerves. My legs quaked as he licked me, slipping two fingers into the wetness between my thighs. Laran sucked my clit between his lips and bit roughly, a rugged chuckle escaping him as my knees went weak.
“Mmm, I knew you could hit it. I was getting hungry.”
He wasn’t talking about the fruit.
Chapter 6
He brought me to climax twice with his wicked tongue before I straddled him in the grass. I rode him again, relishing in the way he worked me over his cock until we both collapsed in a tangle of sweat-slicked limbs. We finished target practice completely naked before putting clothes on and gathering up the figs for dinner. While Allistair seemed to be able to glamor anything we needed, food and water included, there was something thrilling about sharing the fruits of my labor, quite literally.
We walked back to the campsite, arms full and smiling like a couple of high schoolers and not a Queen and her consort. With Laran it was easy, simple. Our relationship wasn’t as disruptive as Julian, or a ba
lance of control like Allistair’s, or even a guessing game like Rysten’s—because while Pestilence certainly cared for me, he was just as bad as the others when it came to my safety. They were all possessive with me, but more than that, we were still working on building trust. Laran and I were already beyond that. He had proved it to me from the beginning, loving me enough to treat me as an equal and never pulling punches when it came to the truth; in return, I was pretty sure I loved him first.
The thought made me go still.
I…loved them.
Like the echo of thunder, my heart almost cracked with the immense realization, because as soon as you loved something it became a weakness. I already had two that my enemies used against me, and now...I swallowed hard and lifted my head. Laran’s coal black eyes met mine, silently asking if I was alright.
I smiled despite the lead weight in my stomach, and it poisoned me. The feeling running in my veins, while strong and deep and sure—also scared the shit out of me.
So, I stayed silent and fell into step beside him like nothing was wrong and my heart wasn’t aching with the sting of resentment against my father’s enemies for forcing me to be so cold with my mate. They protected and cared for me. They gave me everything that was them.
But I wouldn’t say those words until it was safe.
I wouldn’t let my heart bleed all the more, because if they said them back and then something happened...it just might kill me.
So, I tucked those words in close and stuffed them down inside until we were safe. One day, and one day soon, I would say them.
But today wasn’t that day.
“What took you so long?” Moira snapped. Her light green arms were crossed over her chest while she leaned back against a log. One of them had already made a log cabin out of wood and started a fire, even though it was hotter than—well, Hell.
A small chuckle slid between my lips as I amused myself, but no one besides Laran seemed to find it all that amusing.
“Is she delirious?” Jax asked, and I couldn’t be sure, but I thought he was being serious.
“Do you have a death wish?” Moira asked, turning her ire on him. “Everyone knows only I get to be bitchy and get away with it. Get with the program, genie.”
The enigma’s lips thinned and his eyes turned luminescent. If I didn’t know Moira could hand him his ass, the beast and I might have felt protective where she was concerned. But Moira was a legion now. One who clearly wasn’t all that worried about a pissed off enigma with how she liked to goad him.
“I’m not a genie,” he growled. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. “I’m an enigma, one of the most powerful of my kind, and you’d do well to remember it.” Moira just kept her back turned to him and flipped her hair. No one did condescending quite like her. She exuded this vibe that she was above everyone, especially the one she seemed to delight in taunting. With her back to him, though, I was privy to the smirk on her face as he glowered at her. “Are you listening to me?”
Suddenly, his voice went all rumbly as he started to grow larger, his skin shifting.
“What in the Devil’s name is going on here—” I asked, the figs tumbling from my arms as several things happened simultaneously. Frozen to my spot, I watched it all as if it were slow motion.
The trees shifted as soft footsteps surrounded us. Out of nowhere, people—demons—wearing masks made out of wood, carved and crudely painted, stepped out of the forest. They carried long wooden sticks with arrowheads attached to the ends, an archaic form of a spear. Tension rippled across the clearing as they moved swiftly, closing in around us.
Jax bared his teeth at the masked demons. His skin trembled, blurring as it shifted and molded into something else before my eyes. Four legs with clawed feet jutted forward, and hair as dark as his skin sprouted. His teeth grew larger, more pointed, as his face became that of a predator. The transformation complete, a hellhound stood in his place, and it was only those glowing purple eyes that made him recognizable. He gave Moira a pointed look—as if telling her to stay—as he turned, protecting her against the unknown demons now boxing us in.
“Drop the weapon!” someone yelled. It wasn’t a voice I recognized.
A blunt force connected with my back.
Wrong. Fucking. Move.
I stumbled a step forward and only Laran’s hand grasping my arm kept me from falling. Lightning flashed across the sky. A warning from the Horseman of War.
“Aw, fuck,” Moira drawled standing up. “You’ve really done it now.”
“Drop it!” the same voice commanded from behind me. Laran’s eyes darkened as he pulled me closer. I stopped him with a pat of my hand against his rough fingers.
“I got this,” I murmured. He stepped back a fraction giving me room to react without bearing down on me. I winked at him, and in that blink of an eye, the beast came out to play.
Fire came to life at her call, racing up her arms as she turned on a dime and grabbed the end of the blunted walking stick that had been used to prod me like fucking cattle.
“Now, now,” she trilled with a husky laugh that was both seductive and terrifying. “Is that any way to treat your Queen?”
The end of the stick caught fire under her grip and the masked man holding it shuddered. His fingers trembled as the fire slowly ate its way towards him. She reared back, striking him in the head once with the not-yet-flaming end of the stick. He crumpled to the ground easily and she let out a tsk, sending the spear up in flames while she was at it. Black ashes blew in the wind within seconds. They quieted.
“I warned you!” Moira called from behind me. Through our bond I could tell she wasn’t all that worried. Not when Jax-turned-hellhound was guarding her hide while the beast was out. No one fucked with our familiars and lived.
“Queen?” one of the faceless demons asked. The new spokesperson for the group walked forward, stepping over the crumbled body of their friend without hesitation.
This she-demon wore brown leather pants and moccasin style shoes with a loose shirt made of a dark indiscernible cloth. Her spear was larger than the others and decorated with a swatch of fabric on the end that swished lightly as she moved.
“Did she fucking stutter?” Moira snapped from behind her. The beast didn’t bat an eyelash at the outburst. She preferred to watch the strange woman.
“Who are you?” The voice behind the mask was muffled, making it deeper. More animalistic in its tone than human.
If the she-demon meant to intimidate, the beast wasn’t impressed.
“I go by many names,” the beast mused. “Take your pick.”
Silence extended between them as the masked demons seemed to weigh this. I could almost hear their telepathic conversations, but thanks to Sin, that was no longer one of my abilities.
“I think she’s lying!” a voice in the crowd called out. There was a chorus of cheers, both for and against, but they all fell quiet when the strange girl before me lifted two fingers beneath her mask and let out a shrill whistle.
“Her fire is blue. Its ashes are black. If she really is Satan’s spawn come to return and put an end to the fire, I—for one—do not wish to die this day.” Another chorus both for and against rang out, but this time it seemed in my favor.
“Um, I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” Moira piped up behind me, “but you guys kind of lost the power to say what happens here.” All heads apart from ours whipped towards the girl now sidling up beside me. “This guy here,” she hooked her thumb to the right, “he’s War, and he’s a lot nicer than your Queen when she’s cranky.” I would have chuckled, but the beast only stared apathetically, seeing them all as objects in the way instead of living and breathing creatures. Pieces on a board she would take out if needed. “Assuming you somehow could take War out, there’s no way you’d get past her other three mates.” She swept her hand wide, motioning just behind the crowd where Rysten, Allistair, and Julian now stood. “Also known as the Horsemen: Pestilence, Famine—and the big motherfucke
r in the middle—that’s Death. He really doesn’t like other people poking her with sticks.”
If they weren’t afraid before, they should have been then.
We’d faced worse odds. I’d killed more demons with far less skill than I now possessed. In a fight to the death, they wouldn’t win.
Which is why it came as quite the shock when the masked she-demon threw back her head and cackled.
She withdrew the mask, showing off a mane of golden hair that would have been enviable if I were insecure. As it was, the beast withheld all judgement…until she turned and walked right up to Rysten. He stared and stared until she said, “Long time no see, golden boy. It’s been a while for us.”
Then she kissed him.
Chapter 7
I’ve been through a lot of things in my life. Seen a lot of things. Done a lot of things. Set a lot of things on fire... and my fingers twitched for her to be next.
Never once have I considered cold-blooded murder when it came to something as simple as kissing, but when she strolled up to Rysten and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him to her...red. My vision went red.
A dull roar filled my ears as the world slowed down to the beat of my heart. The only sound was that of the pounding in my head. I longed to move and pull her away, but the smallest thread of sanity kept me grounded to my spot and told me to watch. To listen.
I stared at the back of her head. Waiting for him to respond. Waiting for him to refute what I just saw. To correct her. To push her away. To do something.
I wasn’t the girl that stood for this, and after everything we’d been through, he should know that. I also wasn’t the woman that let jealousy eat at her like poison. I cared about myself far too much for that, and with his brand on my neck, I’d think he’d know that too.
But still, I waited.
Rysten’s silence must have shocked her as well, because she pulled back, just enough for me to see his face. To the see his furrowed brows and his eyes squinting as he looked down at her.
Brimstone Nightmares (Queen of the Damned Book 4) Page 6
