The witch laughed in surprise. “Wow, good guess. You picked the best possible ‘trick’ you could have used, from the sounds of it.”
“Huh. Go me. So what is drive away salt, anyway?”
“Some people call it black salt or witch’s salt, and that’s basically what it is—just salt with some ingredients added that turn it black. Lucky for you, or for all of us really, the jar I brought with me was specifically mixed with the Order in mind. I made it to drive away demonic energy.”
“How?”
“It’s all in the added ingredients. The black color comes mostly from charcoal, which I used to burn sage, rue, and benzoin. Sage is the cleanser, the purifier. It’s why people for centuries have been using it to smudge houses and circles and anything else that needs to be blessed. Rue removes hexes and drives away black magic, and benzoin is a resin that also purifies, but specifically it works against demons. It’s noxious to them. Once the ingredients are burned, I mix the ashes and charcoal with pure sea salt, and voilà. Black salt.”
“Wow. And I just grabbed the first thing I touched. That worked out pretty well.”
Wynn smiled. “Like I said before, instinct is the basis of magic.”
Spar watched the two women grin at each other and fought back the need to shake sense into both of them. Did his mate not realize the chance she had taken? What could have happened if her first touch had landed on the wrong item? And the witch needed to be taught not to encourage Felicity’s recklessness. His mate seemed to be having no trouble carving years off his immortality without Wynn’s assistance.
“Either of you could have died,” he bit out through clenched teeth, but the expressions the two women turned to him were blank.
“But we didn’t,” Wynn pointed out with exaggerated patience. “Fil did exactly right.”
“We’re fine,” Felicity echoed. “All’s well that ends well, and all that crap.” She frowned back at Wynn. “Except for that ankle. If you’re sure it’s just a sprain, I’ll go fetch an elastic bandage. I think I have one in the bathroom.”
“Can you grab my bag, too? I think I have a jar of everlasting ointment in there. If I rub that in before we wrap it, it should help a lot.”
“You got it.”
“Oh, and um, maybe you want to put on a shirt? I mean, not that we don’t have all the same parts and everything, but I’m not used to hanging out with other chicks in just their bras.”
Felicity’s cheeks flushed a delicate pink. “Oops. Forgot about that, but it is kinda chilly in here. I’ll be right back.”
Spar looked at Felicity, then at Wynn, then back at Felicity. The women simply carried on as if nothing serious had happened. Wynn pulled herself into a sitting position against the arm of the sofa, and Felicity headed toward the door where she’d dropped the witch’s bag as soon as they’d entered the apartment. Spar felt like he was trapped in some strange alternate universe where danger ceased to exist and female humans ruled the world.
He had to get out of there before he got trapped. Or lost his bloody mind.
“I am going up to the roof,” he snarled, heading for the window that led to the fire escape in the alley. “I will check to be certain we were not followed or…” He slammed the window open and simply growled. “I will be on the roof.”
Maybe the cool night air would clear his head. If nothing else, a little distance might save his mate the ravages of a thoroughly spanked bottom.
Chapter Nineteen
“Hm. He seemed … cranky.”
Fil looked toward the window and frowned. “Yeah, he gets a little wound up when it comes to safety and stuff. I think this whole episode with you and me both having to go up against nocturnis magic might have gotten to him.”
“I don’t think it was the idea of my being in danger that upset him.”
“What are you talking about? You’re human; Spar’s a Guardian. Trust me, he takes his duty to protect humanity against the Darkness damned seriously.”
Wynn smiled. “Oh, I can see that. I just think that when it comes to you, duty isn’t his only motivation.”
Felicity felt another blush rise to her cheeks. Damn her über-fair complexion! “We’ve been together for two weeks now. Protecting me has become a habit.”
“Oh, you’ve been ‘together’ all that time, have you?” The witch wriggled her eyebrows with exaggerated meaning.
“Stop it. I just mean he’s gotten used to having to haul me out of trouble. Since he woke up he’s seen me zapped with a demon mark, nearly blown up by a crazy nocturnis, sliced up by a hhissih, attacked by a golem, and now going up against some weird, magical version of Audrey Two from Little Shop of Horrors. Of course his protective instincts have to be screaming at him that I’m one slippery step away from total annihilation.”
“You really don’t think there’s more to it than that?”
“What else would there be?”
Wynn rolled her eyes. “Come on, Fil. You don’t think I can see what’s going on with you two? He looks at you like you’re the one who breathed life into his stone form. And you practically eat him up with butter and jelly every time you look at him. No matter which form he’s wearing. Plus, the two of you generate enough electricity to light up half of Montreal. You’re madly in love with each other.”
Hearing the truth from someone else’s lips—or at least her half of it—felt like having a pin stuck in Fil’s balloon of denial. She felt herself deflate until she collapsed onto the end of the sofa with a flubbery sigh. “God, am I that transparent?”
“Sweetie, you’re in love. People are supposed to be able to see it when you’re together.”
“People, sure, but not him. At least, I hope not.”
“You mean you haven’t told him.”
Fil looked at her new friend as if she’d lost her mind. “Why on God’s green earth would I want to do that?”
“Why tell him you love him?” Wynn shot her the same look right back. “Um, maybe because you are, and even if he thinks he knows already, he deserves to hear it from you.”
“Right, and what do I deserve? To stand back and wave him off like he’s heading out for a day at the office when he turns back to stone and sleeps till after I’m dead?” She tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice, but she knew she wasn’t succeeding. It went too deep for her to contain all of it. “Sure, sounds like a swell time.”
“Wait. Hold on a minute.” Wynn held up a hand and made a rewinding motion with her finger. “Back that up. Has Spar not claimed you? Because if he hasn’t, my mojo is way off right now. You two practically vibrate at the same frequency when you’re together. I could have sworn you were his.”
“His what? Pal? Girlfriend? Fuck buddy? I don’t think you’re going to convince me that male Guardians are so different from the males of other species that just because we’ve had sex, I get to assume there’s a happily-ever-after in store. I’m human; I get to live maybe eighty, ninety years. He’s immortal; he’ll live forever, long after I’ve not only wrinkled and sagged in all the wrong places, but turned into dust. Plus, he’ll do most of it asleep and therefore completely oblivious to me and my un-immortal-ness. Shakespeare should have given Romeo and Juliet such a tragic ending.”
“But he’s told you that’s not the way it works, right?”
“He doesn’t need to tell me anything.” Angry and feeling chilled by more than the temperature in the room, Fil swiped her shirt up off the floor and tugged it back on. “I know there’s no future for the two of us, so falling in love with Spar would be the dumbest thing I could possibly do.”
“You’ve already done it, sweetie. Will denying the truth really help?” Wynn cut her off when she tried to answer. “No, save it. It looks like there are a few things Spar still has to explain to you, and like an idiot male, he’s already left it longer than he should have.”
“If you keep on with the cryptic bullshit, I’m going to wrap your ankle in poison ivy leaves instead of the elastic bandag
e,” Fill threatened.
“Gah, you’ve got a nasty streak.” Wynn shook her head. “Sorry, but this is Spar’s news to share, not mine. Just trust me when I tell you that you’re not doomed to a lonely life of misery, okay? There are things about the Guardians that you clearly still haven’t learned, but it’s Spar’s place to fill you in. If I did it and I’m wrong, I’d only make things worse for you.”
“Comforting. Thanks.” Fil shot the witch a sour look.
“Hey, I’m not at my best right now. I’ve got a sprained ankle and bruises out the wazoo, plus I can still feel those nasty-assed vines on my skin. I’m not sure there’s a loofah big enough to scrub that memory away.” She shuddered delicately.
“Sorry.” Frustrated but exhausted, Fil pushed to her feet. “You dig out your ointment. I’ll go fetch the bandage. I think I have a bag of frozen peas around, too. That should help your swelling some.”
“Thank you. I mean it, Fil.” Her earnest tone had Fil pausing to glance at her from the hallway. “Don’t let the bastards get you down. Or Spar, either. I really don’t think he’s going to break your heart. I promise.”
Fil feared it might already be too late. “Don’t worry about me. Start thinking of ways to use that earring we found to hunt these nocturnis assholes down. No matter what happens, watching Spar hack them to bits is sure to put at least one smile on my face.”
* * *
By the time Spar crawled back into the apartment, Wynn had disappeared and Fil was tucked in her bed, lying still under the blankets. When he saw the light from the window glinting off her open eyes, he knew she wasn’t asleep.
“Where’s the witch?” he asked quietly. He had resumed his human form in the living room, and now had the bother of removing his clothing before he climbed in to join his mate.
“In the guest room, hopefully asleep. She’s got a pretty badly sprained ankle, and some amazingly colorful bruises, but other than that she assures me everything is in working order.”
“I am glad she did not try to leave.”
Fil snorted. “Who says she didn’t try? I practically had to sit on her to keep her here once we got her ankle wrapped. She insisted she could call a cab and be fine at home by herself. She had some plan to get right to work scrying with that earring.”
Spar grunted and stretched out between the cotton sheets, already warmed by his little human’s feminine body. He tugged her against his side and tried to ignore the brief hesitation before she snuggled into him. “It is good that you stopped her. She will require rest in order to perform such a difficult task. Tomorrow is soon enough for her to begin.”
“That’s what I said.”
Feeling his mate’s curves pressed against him had its predictable effect on Spar’s body. He felt himself begin to harden, but once again he felt distance between himself and his Felicity. No longer did it feel like a purposeful barrier she erected to keep him away, but he still perceived something separating them. The sensation troubled him.
“What is wrong?” he asked, his voice soft and tender.
He reached out to brush a strand of hair from her cheek and couldn’t resist tangling his fingers in the pale, silky mass. During the day she habitually pulled the long, blond fall into a ponytail, leaving only a fringe of short bangs to frame her pretty face, but at night he had come to love seeing it tumble around her shoulders. The curtain of it reached down to her shoulder blades, a straight, shining waterfall of the palest yellow sunlight. When she leaned over him and let it drift along his skin, he wanted to freeze time and just wallow in the ticklish joy of it.
She shook her head, rubbing her cheek against his chest in the process. “Nothing. I’m just tired.”
He could hear the shading in her words, not a lie, but not precisely the truth. Part of him wanted to push her, sick of allowing her to hold him at arm’s length, but he could still see her face in the diner earlier, when her friend had accused her of vile things and then stalked away as if disgusted with her. The image had seared itself in his memory, clear and sharp as broken glass. The greater part of him would do anything to spare her pain, so once again he kept silent. There would be time, he promised himself. After they dealt with the Hierophant and his plans there would be time to deal with whatever troubled her. Until then, Spar would simply do his best to keep her safe, and to demonstrate to her that he loved her, every part of her, including the ones that she hid from him.
Hooking a finger beneath her chin, he urged her to lift her face to his. He swept her lips with a gentle kiss, needing to prove to her that she was cherished. She responded eagerly, parting to lure him within. He couldn’t resist the invitation and moved to taste her, savoring the spiced-wine sweetness of her mouth. He could drink from her lips for a lifetime, never hungering for other nourishment, never coming up for air. This little human completed him. She filled in the places he hadn’t known were empty, and he wallowed in the heady sensation.
Her arms wrapped around him, her little hands stroking his back, pausing to knead with the strength that always surprised him. She felt so tiny and delicate in his arms that he tended to forget his mate had a core of molten steel in her, flexible enough to bend, but strong enough to carry the weight of the world. She tried to do just that far too often for his liking.
He traced his own fingers lightly along her spine, feeling the way the butterfly touch made her shiver and arch against him. Her back was highly sensitive, and he recalled one recent evening when he’d traced every graceful inch of it with fingers and lips and tongue. She had melted beneath him and begged him to take her before he was through. Tonight, he had no plans to take; all he desired was to give.
He should have known she would never let him get away with it. He chuckled against her throat as she brought her hands forward to caress his chest, fingers playing with his nipples in a way that made him bite back a moan. It hadn’t taken his little mate long to find every place on his body that sent his head spinning, and she apparently loved to tease all of them until he lost control and took her like the beast he was. Not tonight, though. Tonight he would not simply have her or she him. Tonight, they would love.
Pressing her back against the softness of the mattress, he moved over her, supporting himself on his elbows, allowing her to carry only a fraction of his weight. Immediately, her thighs parted to cradle his hips, her legs coming up to wrap around his waist and press him to her. All he had to do was touch her, and she gave herself. He never had to ask for her touch or her attention, because she lavished it on him without reserve. This was the only time Spar felt no barriers between them, when they came together like this. During their lovemaking, she dropped the walls, closed the distance, and simply loved him. He had to find a way to persuade her to do it all the time.
His hands glided over her with tender purpose, seeking out all the spots that made her sigh, that made her shiver. He loved the way her breath hitched when she gasped, the low throaty timbre of her moans. When he hit a particularly sensitive patch of skin, her whole body would tense, then tremble, then melt beneath him. It made him feel like a god and only made him crave to feel it again.
Getting enough of her wasn’t even the remotest possibility. He craved her even in his sleep, those short periods when he closed his eyes and let himself dream of her. It wasn’t like the slumber he experienced when the magic took him, and he could easily have done without it, but he knew she required rest so he took advantage of the times when she slept by lying beside her and letting her fill him up like water in an empty cup. Every night the cup refilled, and every night his thirst only grew.
The warm wetness between her thighs bathed him in heat and made him ache to have her. The more he touched, the more liquid she became, until he wanted to dive into her like his own personal sea. His hands skimmed down her sides and hers clenched tight on his hips, trying to pull him inside. With a groan, he gave up his resistance and joined them.
Her breath shuddered out against his ear, his name a whisper of need and
pleasure and tenderness. Immediately she clamped around him, her body designed so perfectly for his. The tight clasp sent his senses reeling, robbing him of everything but the feel of her, hot and slick and welcoming.
When he began to move, she lifted into his thrusts, her body undulating in graceful waves beneath him. He rocked into her, his rhythm slow but relentless, pushing both of them steadily along to the inevitable conclusion.
He thrust and she parried, he stroked and she caressed. Together they lost themselves in the power of their desire, becoming not him and her but them, a new being made of passion and respect and love.
He would have made it last forever if he could. He knew he’d never get enough of her, never find a greater perfection than his body in hers, her arms around him, their breath mingling in sweet tangles of heat. But nothing could hold back their pleasure.
It crashed over them together, a tidal wave of ecstasy that dragged them under before shooting them back to the surface, limp and spent and one.
Spar barely had the energy to shift himself to the side to keep from crushing his mate before he collapsed atop her in a heap of satisfied Guardian. When he pressed his lips a final time against her brow, he saw her eyes drift shut and sleep claim her. For now, it could have her, but soon enough the universe would know that Spar’s claim trumped all the others. When a Guardian claimed his mate, he would face the depths of the Darkness and give up his measure of eternity to keep her.
Chapter Twenty
First thing in the morning, Wynn insisted on going home. Insisted at the top of her lungs, to be honest, and she didn’t flinch when Fil turned up her own volume to match. Neither of them paid any attention to Spar’s pained wince, but each recognized when she had met an opponent she couldn’t bully into submission. It was one of the things that cemented their friendship.
Stone Cold Lover Page 21
