by Kiki Howell
“You don’t have to,” he answered with a sadistic smile.
Chapter Eleven
DARCARYN, RATHER THAN move them forward, had paused and moved in on her. His hands surrounded each side of her head, flat against the wall with his forearms against her ears. He not only caged her in, but also pinned her between his body and the dirt wall. His energy slithered over her skin despite her heavy jacket.
The scent of wet earth mingled with his spicy scent. She assumed the smell to be whatever he’d last cooked up for a spell. He pressed his forehead against hers, his hot and labored breath, then scent of mint and whiskey, to bath her face. Any inklings of fear that rose inside her, his magic rushed to surround. A tornado raged inside her, excited, heated, and grew. Her mind clouded with thoughts of his blue eyes. They’d darkened from the absence of light and the growth of lust. His dirty hand rubbed over her cheek, marked her with earth and magic.
A simple touch could be used against her with someone as powerful as Darcaryn. His thoughts invaded her mind, forced her to think, to feel what he wanted her to.
His mouth crushed against hers as both his hands encompassed her cheeks.
If she’d been attracted to him outside of the spells compelling her to be, this would rate as a fairytale kiss, a magical moment to think back on later. However, the idea of manipulation mingled with her thoughts.
She tried to focus on her feelings, what she intellectually knew them to be, rather than on the emotions she knew he’d placed upon her, had fabricated from his own. A created lust, while hard to fight, felt forged at first like a whirlwind of empty seduction. Even so, it beckoned, stirred her, made her helpless to resist. Soon, the ability to discern the difference between real and fake would abandon her.
As his tongue invaded, snaked its way around inside her mouth, warred with her own tongue, her heart skipped a beat. The heavy taste of liquor on his breath screamed cowardice. He’d needed alcohol to accomplish this feat. A man of unlimited magic, sinister ways, and powerful means, yet he relied on something other than his own abilities.
She knew she had power over him, then. He had something at stake. His feelings for her had a truth to them, and she could surely use that against him.
With her hands still bound behind her back, she pushed forward with her hips, seduced him with a persuasive dance.
He groaned.
A wave of sweltering desire swept through her loins. His prurient longings surfacing, not hers. His hands suddenly strong on her hips, he lifted her to her tiptoes, grinding his denim-cloaked erection hard against her. Base. Primal. Magical. The restless desire that writhed in a cloud around them created mythical bindings.
Keeping this knowledge as her source of reality, she used her body as a weapon of destruction. Empowered to move forward, she planned to let him go to a point of weakness she hoped to take advantage of.
As her mind whirled around possible scenarios, shifted through the limited knowledge at her disposal, the fact he’d called her growing powers dangerous granted her confidence.
Her heart beat in her ears. Just the same, she picked up on a creaking above them. Seconds later, Aedan and two other men, all bundled in black, jumped down into the hole beside them.
Darcaryn’s body went stiff but pushed harder against hers. He suffocated her with his weight. His cheek, sweaty and hot, moved against hers as he stared at the intruders. His fingers tightened where they’d risen to her waist.
“What the fuck?” Aedan growled, his words slurred from the deep primal force of air. “Why the hell are you down here? A romantic getaway in the cold underground? I thought he’d kidnapped you, Kyna, but this looks more like some demented lover’s escape. This a part of your training, or a break from?”
“Such stealth and desperation you must have used to find us here?” Darcaryn purred.
He rubbed his face against hers in a show of affection. An evil grin of success etched his face.
Kyna heard the repositioning of Aedan’s feet as he moved into a lethal crouch. His white fingertips held a large gun, something that looked like he’d plucked it from a science fiction movie.
“Her safety is my responsibility,” Aedan spat. “I thought it yours, too.”
“Protecting her is exactly what I’m doing,” Darcaryn countered. “The invasive magic in the house increased. These tunnels lead to an underground bunker her grandfather built. I am protecting her. What I don’t understand is how the hell you found us.”
“My friends and I were trained on every weapon known to man as well as every instrument of tracking the government has to offer. Many of them most people don’t even know exist. We were the first to test them. Her aunt left a ton of money at my disposal. So, what isn’t possible with money and knowledge, not to mention the right connections? Failure isn’t in my vocabulary. Not an option. The only easy day was yesterday and all that shit. Anything else you need to know about the SEALs, ex or not? If you haven’t figured it out by now, I stop at nothing short of death to finish my job,” Aedan raged.
Aedan’s face glowed beet red, his hair sweaty and tousled.
She’d take him as her knight in shining armor anytime.
“She’s mine, in more ways than you, a mere human, even with all the money and weapons in the world, could understand. I’ll protect her,” Darcaryn hissed, his blue eyes practically black now.
Aedan dropped the gun to his side, took a few swift steps and reared back his arm to throw a punch. He swung, and his fist stopped in mid-air just short of Darcaryn’s palm, which he’d raised as if to catch Aedan’s hand.
The shock of Aedan’s fist effectively hitting an invisible wall reverberated through her. Waves of magic ricocheted around them. The two men behind Aedan had trained their guns at Darcaryn, fingers now hovering on large triggers.
Her gaze glued to the tense, impossible situation at hand, she blanked on what to do. Darcaryn hadn’t moved from her in his counterattack.
“Make them stand down, Aedan,” Darcaryn warned. His voice had taken on an otherworldly tinge, a high-pitched sound juxtaposed to the slithery depth of his tone vibrated the air. “The clock ticks. I can turn bullets back onto the men who fired them, ripping their flesh with their own ammunition. It’s a great trick. Don’t make me show off.”
, Aedan righted himself, his eyes bulging with rage, darkened by pain. With a swing of his hand, he made the two behind him fall back into an at ease stance. He taught her confidence could be exuded and success could be gathered even in backing down.
“You don’t scare me,” Aedan blasted with his voice, even as he glanced to her.
“I should,” Darcaryn hissed.
“Darcaryn is working both sides,” Kyna interrupted the testosterone display about to get bloody. “He works for this society, though a lackey, paid well to know little, apparently. My grandfather hired him years ago. The man had some lofty power issues with political aspirations. So, it was my grandfather who got involved in this society to forward his own position. Darcaryn was later approached by the society to work on their side, and my idiot grandfather actually wanted him to. He played a dangerous game working for both, letting both think his allegiance was to them. The society wanted to use my grandfather’s money and magic. When the group suddenly turned on my grandfather years ago, though, Darcaryn never knew why. According to him, he’s sworn, to my dead grandfather that is, to always protect my aunt first and foremost, though. He doesn’t know why she went to the society now. He said she’s always been something of a wildcard. I think that covers it.” She’d tried to get out as much as she could quickly, hoping her slur of words would diffuse the situation.
She wiggled, struggling to breathe.
Darcaryn had moved closer to hers as she spoke.
“You’re suffocating me. I think you can step away now,” she groaned as her lungs fought for air.
“I think we need to go back to the house,” Aedan offered, his gaze darting back and forth between them. “I have more protecti
on now. These guys run on no sleep, and can keep watch from both sides of the house. They have equipment to scan the entire perimeter. We need to re-group, use all the resources we have to come up with a plan to not only get Saoirse back, but to end this fight, stop this group from terrorizing this family once and for all.”
“Fine,” Darcaryn hissed. “Stupid, but fine.”
When he pulled away from Kyna, Aedan’s face pinched tight at the sight of her arms bound behind her. He didn’t miss a beat, though, in grabbing her and working at the ties.
“Did he hurt you?” he growled. His eyes burned with a lethal hatred.
“No, he didn’t. I’m fine. Just get me out of here,” she demanded.
“She’s stubborn,” Darcaryn spoke in his defense. “I did what I had to...to keep her safe. I’m sure if put in the identical situation, you’d have done the same. Whatever it took to get her to safety, right?”
Chapter Twelve
THE SHEER SIZE of her aunt’s castle-like home struck her once again as they’d approached after a silent hike back,. Maybe it’d been her most recent ordeal, but just the long walk down the halls and up the many stairs to get to her room had seemed exhausting.
Once inside, Aedan had waved his hands to make his friends go to their posts. He guided her not only to her room, but into her bathroom, without a word. She could feel him brooding on the other side of the door even as she lounged in the tub, tried to soak away the last few hours. Her muscles ached with the residue of Darcaryn’s dark forces of seduction. His infatuated alchemy crawled over her skin like roaches, disgusting and large with a thousand cold legs.
She’d practically scrubbed herself hard enough to work up a sweat before drying off. Wrapped only in a towel, she poked her head out of the bathroom door to request clothing.
She found Aedan sprawled in a chair, nostrils flared, brow wrinkled, and body visibly shaking. Her heart shattered when he looked her way with glistening eyes.
“Aedan,” she flew to him, knelt before his legs, and placed her hands around one of his clenched fists resting on his knee. “What’s wrong?”
To see such a strong man this way proved too much. She’d admit to not being able to handle this one thing. Her heart beat a testament to the strength of real love, one unmeasured by time and circumstance. How could she not love him? His confidence, more a beneficial arrogance, he’d earned with not only strength beyond his almost superhero build, but also intelligence in unverifiable ways. Beyond all that, he cared, loved, and protected with no regard to self-preservation.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asked without looking directly into her eyes.
“Yes, I told you I am. That can’t be what’s bothering you,” she countered, desperate for his full attention as much as she wanted to heal whatever ailed him.
“You and Darcaryn? Do you care about him?” he asked in a gruff, yet brittle voice.
“No! He didn’t hurt me. But, full disclosure. He has some infatuation with me. I can’t explain it, but he gets angry that I don’t return his feelings. He claims he knows this because of some spell. He calls it dirty magic. These spells can force emotions, like lust, on people to distract them. Something the society is doing to us. I can’t explain it like he does, but I do feel it. It’s like chaos in my mind. I try hard to grasp onto my own feelings, my desires and urges, but before I know it I’m gone, and I fall prey to what the spell wants”
“So, he’s forced you to feel for him, to...to do some sort of physical acts with him?”
His body shook, tight pulses that made her hands vibrate over his until he moved his to the arms of the chair. He sat in the chair, barely restraining himself, white-knuckled, his skin flushed a bright red. His eye even twitched.
“No, he’s not forced me. I’m sure the society is responsible. I can feel the difference.”
Aedan jumped up, grabbing her and moving her away from him in the process. Leaving her unsteady on her feet, he started toward the door.
“Stop,” she yelled. “I’ve only kissed him, and then he’s stopped it, much more in tune to their magic than I am, so I assume also stronger to fight it. He apologizes for his lapse, says he doesn’t want me until I want him, too. I fear I can’t make you understand, that this all sounds lame, but I’m telling you the truth. I’m so sorry. The only person I want to truly kiss is you.”
“You only said he has told you that you don’t care for him. Not that you don't. I just need to know, a straight out yes or no answer. Are you attracted to him? Do you have feelings for him, too? Do you want to be with him, a man who can offer you more than I can, I guess, in that you have something in common I can’t even imagine, let alone understand?” He rushed the words, made it hard for her to catch them all.
“No. The answer is no. I only feel I do when...”
“Just no works for me. I can take a beating, have even taken a few bullets, but I can’t take seeing you with another man. I’ve found my first weakness. You. I want whatever I can have of you. Right or wrong. You know that with everything in me I will do my best to protect you, reactions clouded by my feelings or not.”
“I do,” she breathed out on a sigh of relief.
“I can’t say the thought of you kissing him doesn’t slice through me in some way, but it isn’t you if you’re controlled by a spell. I don’t want you alone with him again, though,” he commanded.
“I’m absolutely, one hundred percent good with that,” she responded with a tentative smile on her face.
She dared a touch then. She brushed her hand down his arm. When he didn’t flinch, only watched her hand, she guided him back to the chair. Somehow, it seemed less likely he’d get away if he sat rather than stood.
He obeyed, but he didn’t move for several moments after that. He just sat there staring at her. A warmth radiated down her spine, swirled through her veins, and then surrounded her heart. Time stopped as she watched him sit like a statue, arms rigid and shoulders tense. She gave him time to sort out the new information. Tables turned, she couldn’t imagine how she’d have reacted.
Finally, after minutes passed, feeling more like hours, he started to show some signs of life. With his teeth biting into his lip, his ragged breath whispered out of the small space between his lips.
Her own breathing grew uneven as she noticed his gaze darken.
He gazed at her towel-covered body, glancing down to where the ends separated over her bent up thigh, leaving her exposed, save a square of cloth.
He moved forward with a sudden and stealthy flow of his torso.
She didn’t even flinch as his face stopped inches from hers. The depth of his brown eyes and the fall of his silk chocolate hair gave a rakish look to his intense handsomeness, one built of both chiseled features and strength of character.
“Your current state of dress is dangerous. I literally ache for you. I think about you far too much, naked or otherwise, to keep my wits about me in such a situation,” he growled.
“Then don’t.”
“You have to be sure.”
“I am.”
She stood and dropped her towel to prove it.
“You’re beautiful. Perfect,” he whispered, not so much to keep quiet, but more like he was out of breath.
“And, you’re overdressed,” she challenged, stepping back to give him room to stand.
Still in his black jacket and jeans, he stood to meet her temptation.
She’d never felt so exposed or so loved without even a touch as his dark gaze swept over her every curve. Moisture built between her legs as he removed his jacket and boots with a swift determination, never looking away from her skin.
From where she stood, a foot away from him, her legs slightly parted, and her hands hanging stiff at her sides, she beheld the sensual show as he unclothed himself.
He revealed one glorious, sculpted muscle after another. His six-pack rippled in an unbelievably sexy and uneven pattern. He had those deep-set bulges of muscle just above his hipbones that, at t
he moment, carved a path into his jeans, leading the way to gifts beneath. Only his Herculean biceps and sinewy forearms upstaged his large pecs. Without a doubt, he’d been built to protect.
She clenched and then splayed her fingers, yearning to touch his firm, skin. She longed to trace every shining hill and every shadowy valley his body possessed. The vision of him unzipping his jeans, accompanied by the rasping noise it created as he teasingly lowered the zipper one link at a time, sent a bolt of lightning through her midsection and straight to her core.
She throbbed in response, from her pebbled nipples to her moist swelling folds. She felt like the very air had been sucked from her lungs, as if someone had punched her in the gut when his long, thick staff emerged from his jeans with a quick jerk to attention.
He took two steps and lowered his large frame to one knee before her and brought his mouth to hover just over her belly, his heated breath caressing her, tormenting her.
He feathered a multitude of tiny kisses across stomach and her skin warmed, under the soft heat of his full lips.. He stopped just below her breasts, which hung heavy with want, and looked up to meet her gaze. Nipples hard to the point of pain, it was her turn to clench her hands into fists as she concentrated on deep breathing, trying not to pass out from the intensity of the hunger in his stare. A deep, all encompassing desire she’d never witnessed before reflected up at her from his chocolate orbs.
His hands and lips explored her skin, breasts, nipples, back, and ass, even up and down her legs, until he’d tasted almost every inch of her. Moisture practically dripped from between her thighs where a warm and wet, throbbing juncture impatiently awaited its turn, making her want to cry out a request. He eased himself slowly from the floor, his gaze remaining fixed to hers as his and erection bumped against her belly and teased her heated flesh. The touch threatened to undo her.
Her knuckles aching from stress, she uncoiled her fingers and pressed them against his warm, rigid chest to steady herself. She watched she trailed her hands over his skin.
