Shadows and Sorcery: A Collection of Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels

by Adkins, Heather Marie

  He was troubled, worried perhaps, but admittedly, he looked well enough.

  “Yes, I’m safe. Now stop worrying about me.” He traced a finger over my eyebrow, where my bangs had fallen, hiding my face. I pushed it out of the way, blushing.

  I wasn’t used to him touching me like this. We had never met in person before, only ever like this, in dreams or thoughts. He had never felt so…present before.

  We stared into each other’s eyes, and I swore I could have seen clear into his soul. The memories of our stolen moments together, the whispered confessions of our sins, the mutual comfort of shared trauma…any measure of comfort and safety — and love — I had felt over the last year was because of him.

  A tingling warmth rushed over my skin, and I realized just how naked I was. I tried to casually drift some of the bubbles back my way. “We kill people for an evil man that I’ve been running from for the past how many months, and you’re telling me to stop worrying. Okay. It’s that easy.”

  Michael flicked water at me, though it fell short from hitting my face. “You know what I mean. Besides, of the two of us, I’m supposed to be worrying about you. I’m your handler, remember? That part hasn’t changed.”

  I could feel myself blush again at the thought of Michael “handling” me. At least I could blame my reddening cheeks on the steam. “I think there are other changes coming. At least I hope.”

  “Oh? How so?”

  I filled him in on what King Thallen — my father — had told me about the Wild Hunt and being a changeling. Michael took the news in stride. “So, you’re a changeling? The fairy tales would say that changelings were a human-fairy swap? Is that what happened? You’re really part of the Fae?”

  “Yes, and no. No, because no one was switching babies. Yes, to the fact that I have Fae genes thanks to my father. He happened to be a changeling himself. He told me that he had come from the mortal world. Apparently, there are a lot more changelings in the world than we thought. The Fae don’t tend to have kids often, so they end up marrying mortals to help them out in that department. My mom could have been half-Fae herself and just not know it or denied that about herself.”

  I shrugged in an effort to hide my breaking heart thinking about my mother.

  Afraid that Michael might think I was some sort of freak, I pretended to be easily distracted by my bubbles. I didn’t want to know what he must be thinking. After all, it was one thing to be used as a puppet by a mad man. Quite another to actually be not one hundred percent human.

  The quiet was unbearable and so I snuck a look toward him from under my lashes. He was studying my face with open curiosity and not judgment or fear. That made me feel better.

  “Do you trust him?” he asked.

  I smiled ruefully. “That was exactly what I was trying to decide when you popped up and nearly drowned me.”

  Michael’s face broke out into a laugh, his eyes crinkling with warmth. It was good to see him so happy and unguarded. “I’m glad I was able to save you from yourself.”

  He was always trying to save me. If only I could return the favor, and end our miseries.

  “About that,” I ventured. “How did you find me in fairy of all places? From what I gathered from my father, it was hard to travel here.”

  Michael smiled softly. “You’re here because you’re able to travel here, right? You mentioned the paths finally being open? Chalk it up to your father or your inheritance but somehow you can travel in dreams to be anywhere you need to be. Couple that with the fact that the Wild Hunt calls to dreaming mortals and—” he finished his thought with a gesture, as if to say, voilà!

  Was he implying that I called him to me? I raised my brow again. “You love to avoid answering questions.”

  Michael chuckled and drew closer. “I wasn’t finished explaining.” He somehow came closer to me, impossibly so. “Wherever you go, I’ll always be with you. We’re connected, you and I.”

  My gaze snapped up to meet his to judge if he was joking or not. There was a smoldering intensity in his eyes, and I was almost afraid I’d be consumed in the fire I saw there.

  I gulped and asked a stupid question. “Connected?”

  “Right now, your body is safe behind wards. I tracked you down and found you. But, here?”—he gestured with his fingers to encompass all of fairy—“I’m with you here because we share a connection in mind and spirit.” He touches his temple and then his heart to emphasize his point.

  Of course one of the few times that Michael would be with me physically, my drug-addled body was passed out on a moldy mattress in an abandoned church. “When did we share this bond?”

  Maybe it was Michael’s talk of being bonded or maybe it was because I could see him — feel him — clearer than I have ever seen him before. But I could almost sense his discomfort as if it was my own.

  “We’ve been bonded since your first injection. You were one of the new waves of recruits, so you were one of the first to test it out a new serum for the Wizard. It was a way to keep track of you no matter where you were.”

  “I see,” I said primly.

  “If it helps, I was injected soon after with that same batch.”

  Disappointment surged through me, which was stupid. Michael didn’t have any more control of what happened to him than I did. So what if I had somehow fantasized that we were fated to be together or that we shared some kind of soul bond.

  It wasn’t his fault I had these daydreams.

  “So we’ve been injected with some kind of drug? When will it wear off?” The thought of not being connected to him made my heart clench.

  Stupid, stupid me thinking that I could hope for something better than what I had.

  Was it really so bad to hope though? To want something better? Something more than the cruel cards I’d been dealt my entire life?

  I didn’t think it was too much to ask but clearly fate had other thoughts in mind.

  When he didn’t answer I looked at him. He gave me a curious look, head tilted to the side. “You really don’t know?” he asked.

  “Know what?”

  A grumpy sound that was part amusement and part anger rose in his throat. “Damn doctors probably kept your tranquilizers on a high dose to keep you under control,” he muttered, raking his hand through his hair.

  “The injection you received was an experimental gene-switching serum. It would have been marketed as some miracle cure for cancer or something at the genetic level. What you’ve told me, and what I’ve seen you do, it must have awakened your dormant Fae genes that would have otherwise stayed dormant while you were in the mortal world. Since magic is everywhere in Fairy, the food, drink, hell maybe in the air and water, if you were raised here, you would have awakened into your powers naturally.”

  Michael grew thoughtful in his speculation. “When you wakened that first night, I was there as an anchor for you to latch on to. At least that was what the lab techs had said. They might have given you too much tranquilizer, but they never were able to put me out completely or for any length of time.” He gave me a wry grin.

  I snorted. “Great so you were stuck with me?”

  “Not stuck. Drawn. You called me to you, and I came. That’s how it works between us. Don’t ask me how or why, I just know.” He brushed the wisps of my hair back from my face. “And the more you told me about this place and your role here, and the fact that I was recruited, too, I’m convinced that we’re the same, you and I.” He traced the outline of my face, so soft and gentle. Completely at odds to the hammering of my heart that threatened to burst from my chest. “I’ll always come for you when you need me.”

  I didn’t know who leaned in first. One moment, I reeled from his quiet declaration, and the next I was grabbing a hold of his face and threatened to devour him. One thing was for sure: I was the one that dragged him into the water like a siren drowning a lost sailor.

  Water sloshed around us, curling over the edge of the tub like tidal waves around our movement. I straddled m
yself over Michael’s hips, pressing my naked body against his drenched clothes.

  His hands roamed my body freely, as hungry to feel me as I was to feel him. I needed to touch more of his skin, but the stupid fabric of his shirt and jeans was plastered onto his body.

  With a grunt, he broke apart from me just long enough to rip the clothes from his body before clutching me close again.

  I dug my fingers into the bunched up muscles of his shoulders and arms as I kissed him, waging a desperate battle as my tongue dueled with his. It was the only fight I’d welcome losing.

  Michael spun me around, so that my back pressed against his chest. He subdued me with a heavy arm around my waist while he dragged his other hand to my throat, squeezing gently. “Do you know how long I’ve dreamed about holding you this way?” He whispered in my ear.

  With his hardening flesh at my back, I was beginning to get a clue. Words escaped me. A shuddering breath was my only response to his question as his free hand roamed over the peaks and valleys of my body as if he was a conquering explorer claiming every inch of me for himself. His intrepid hand settled between my legs, his fingers lightly stroking me.

  “I want this, too. I want to be inside of you, and something tells me you want me, too.” His voice was hot and demanding in my ear. I could feel my pulse pounding under his thumb as he continued to grip my neck.

  I’d wanted to answer him, wanted to say yes, take me, but what came out was a low moan as Michael teased out my clit.

  He worked over my sensitized skin, teasing my flesh, sliding his finger inside of me, stretching me. He skimmed his fingers round and round over my throbbing bud until my breath came in gasps. My back arched as a wave of pleasure unfurled from my center. I cried out in release, my muscles clenching as my body locked into a swoon.

  I wasn’t allowed to drift away.

  Michael anchored me to him as he always did. He shifted me so that I stood up, the bathtub so deep that the water lapped around the top of my thighs, just under the curve of my bottom. He pressed me down so I was bent over the edge of the bathtub, my tummy against the smooth stone.

  With an approving sound, he laid a hand on the small of my back and snaked his tongue between my legs. Licking up my slit, he worked his finger inside of me, then a second one, working me open.

  “You’re so tight, lovely,” he whispered appreciatively as he added a third finger inside of me. I clenched myself around his fingers in response to the invasion.

  Michael chuckled, moving inside of me slowly so that all I could focus on was sensation and nothing more. I shivered for him as he stretched me further, seeming to reach for something inside of me. When he flicked his tongue over my clit again, I couldn’t take it anymore and loudly came again, rocking my hips against him, asking for him to go harder, faster.

  His hands slid over me, gliding over my slick body. He whispered soft praises as he kissed up my spine until he got to the nape of my neck and gently bit me, pressing his teeth into my skin before placing a final sucking kiss against the spot he nipped.

  Michael was draped over my prone body, his hips lining up with mine, pinning them in place. I could feel his hardness against me, and I squirmed against it. Chuckling, he pinned my hips still.

  He whispered, taunting, teasing into my ear. “Are you ready?”

  I bit my lip and arched my back for him in silent invitation.

  He didn't wait for an answer. He pressed inside of me, slowly.

  My mouth opened in a silent cry as he filled me, stretched me, inch by slow inch. I rode that delicious line between pleasure and pain as he pushed inside of me with small thrusts, gaining more depth as he did.

  It had been a long, long time for me, and he was big. He had prepared me, but it was still not enough.

  I needed him to move faster, wanted more friction, anything but he had an arm firmly around my waist. I could barely move from his sure grip.

  A rumble of laughter from his chest vibrated throughout my body. That was the only warning I had when Michael surged forward and in one thrust, seated himself inside of me. “Better?” he asked, laughter wrapping around his words.

  I was about to answer with something sassy, but he must have anticipated it because he started thrusting inside of me in earnest. All words flew away, taken over by guttural cries for him to go faster and harder.

  In another time and place I would have wondered how this could be happening, how he was here with me now when he had always felt so far away.

  But this time I didn't have questions. No thoughts, regrets, hesitations. I didn't want to think about my past or my future.

  I just wanted to be in the here and now. To enjoy the present and what I had, and not regret what could have been.

  As if reading my thoughts, Michael gripped my hips tighter and picked up his pace. “Hold on,” he growled out.

  He hadn't been exaggerating. Michael picked up speed, and it was all I could do to hold on and ride the wave of pleasure that built up inside of me. The sounds of slapping flesh made me hotter, wetter, excited me even more.

  I clenched around him, loving how he felt so full inside of me. His answering moan was sweet music to my ears. Michael palmed one of my breasts, squeezing a nipple. I cried out in mingled pain and pleasure and then a surge of growing heat built up in my core and radiated outward.

  I could do nothing else except scream. I collapsed, the stone cool against my cheek even as Michael finished.

  “Damn,” he said. “I knew it would be good between us, but I never thought it would be like this.” He bent over me, nipping my earlobe.

  I chuckled. “Isn’t this when you’d say something like, ‘was it good for you?’”

  “I think we both know how good it was for you,” Michael answered with a loud smack on my ass.

  I yelped in surprise before falling into a fit of giggles. This was what it felt like to be carefree and with someone you loved and who loved you.

  “You’re pretty cheeky for someone who’s under my control.” His voice was pitched low and dangerously sexy.

  I hissed a breath out. “Whatcha gonna do about it?”

  In answer, he pressed his quickly hardening cock against hip, one hand dipping into my wet sex while the other held me down. “Oh I don’t know. I’ll figure something out.”

  He figured something out, all right, for what seemed like hours, thanks to the weird way time ran in Fairy. Michael was as focused with my pleasure as he had been in keeping me alive as my handler, and I didn’t want my time with him to end, even though it had to.

  For all the magic that Fairy seemed to hold, after a while both of us were drained of energy, and the connection between us faded as we fell asleep.

  Sometime later, I drifted back into my body, swaddled in a fluffy towel that looking like captured sunlight on my new bed.

  I was alone, and felt the emptiness of Michael's absence. I had that groggy feeling I would get sometimes when I'd gone too long without sleep.

  The ache between my legs told me that it wasn't a mere dream.

  He couldn't have been gone long. Steam still rose from the bath, and the candles were only burnt down just a little bit. I shivered and grabbed a robe that had been laid out for me.

  Michael was still trying to take care of me in little ways.

  Just as he had always done from the beginning. Always trying to look out for me. I had kept him at arm's length because I never wanted to want anything too much. Didn’t want to make it obvious how easily I could be manipulated.

  Easily controlled.

  But now...I had the power to change all that, didn’t I? My father was offering me a chance. A new hope of imagined possibilities. A way that I no longer had to keep running or keep being fearful.

  I'd been surviving, yes. But I wasn’t living.

  And dammit, I wanted to live. I’d been in survival mode practically my entire life. I no longer wanted to deny how much I wanted to experience more than just death and survival.

&nb
sp; I wanted this, dammit. I What I had with Michael. I wanted more time to be with him, to have him with me, and to be in his arms.

  Those few peaceful moments of bliss when all that was required of me was being present in the moment was priceless. And that really was what life was all about.

  No worries about the future or the past.

  The present, the now was all that mattered.

  And if my father had a way of getting me out of my own mess, well, I will sure as hell take it. I would learn from my parents’ mistakes.

  I got up off the bed, my robe billowing around me. I made a weak attempt to grab the edges of the fluffy material, but the urgency that burned inside of me couldn't be contained.

  Only belatedly did I realize that I was showing a lot more skin than I’d anticipated. I smiled in secret at the bruising at my waist and hips. Michael's hand prints were nearly perfectly outlines on my skin.

  I tightened my robe, and wrestled my long hair as if it wasn't a damp stringy mess down my back. I pushed the double doors that led me inside of my father's study.

  Weapons and technology lined the far walls of this room. I'd never seen some of the artifacts before. He was also entertaining a small crowd of people.

  When I met his gaze, I didn't shrink. I might have been naked under this robe, but I held my head high. Now that I know what I want, nothing was going to make me shrink away from finally claiming what was mine. Not even my damn pride.

  King Thallen waved his audience away with a flick of his wrist. When we were alone, he gave me an appraising look. "I hope that you are here, dressed like that, because you were so inspired that you didn’t even spare a moment to change into proper attire?"

  I could have said something clever. Instead I just got to the point. Fuck his opinions about me. I was done explaining myself and actions to other people. I tossed my stringy and damp hair over my shoulder with the regal grace of a queen in her finest robes.