by Jory Strong
When she’d freed herself from the harness and handed it to him, he secured the weapon and felt the warmth on his back from where it had been held against her skin.
He put the shirt on, leaving it unbuttoned.
Their eyes met and held. Heat flared between them, fierce and consuming.
Her hands went to his chest, fingertips stroking his nipples and sending spike after spike of painful desire straight to his cock.
Liquid fantasies formed and re-formed in his thoughts. Quicksilver fast. Mercury-like.
Her dark eyelashes lowered, but Tir didn’t mistake it for a show of submissiveness. He shouldn’t allow her any power over him, he told himself, but found it too easy to imagine fighting this battle with her over and over again, enjoying it each time they were so engaged.
“Button it,” he said, bracing himself for torment and only barely suppressing a moan when her fingers trailed down his chest and then over the front of his pants as she grasped the bottom of his shirt.
She obeyed. Slowly.
The curtain of her hair hid her expression as she closed his shirt. But her emotions told him the truth.
He struggled to keep his breathing even as her scent intensified with each button.
Her face lifted as she worked her way up his chest.
Satisfaction filled him at the sight of her flushed cheeks and wet, parted lips.
His cock jerked, leaked. A pant escaped despite his intention to remain stoic. Another followed when she reached his neck and her knuckles brushed against the inscribed collar.
Tir grabbed her hips, pulling her to him. It was sweet torture to have her against him but separated by clothing.
If he were free, his memory and his power restored, he’d take her to a safe place and keep her there. He’d insist she remain naked so he could look upon her at will, touch and take her throughout the day and night.
Her hands returned to his chest and settled over material-covered nipples. “The bus will be here in a few minutes,” she said. “We should take it to the edge of downtown. Otherwise we’ll lose too much of what’s left of the day.”
Tir was loath to let her go. His hands left her hips, sliding upward until they cupped her face. He brushed his thumb over her moist bottom lip and nearly came when her tongue darted out to caress him before she captured the end of his thumb in her mouth and sucked before releasing it.
“Turn around and I’ll braid your hair,” she said, her voice husky, her nipples hardened points against the front of her shirt. “You’ll draw less attention with it tucked into your shirt.”
He took her lips in a lingering kiss before obeying her, then shuddered at the feel of her fingers combing through his hair, weaving strands of it into a new fantasy. A fantasy where he crouched naked in front of her, his testicles hanging free between his thighs, his cock touching, rubbing against her smooth mound and soft belly while her pouty nipples brushed against his chest as she freed his hair.
A moan escaped, and he could feel the way it shuddered through her, going from her fingertips to her cunt. And somehow he knew the spider was there, waiting for his mouth, his cock, his touch.
She pulled the collar of his shirt out and slid the braid through the opening to snake down his back. When she stepped to the side, Tir fought the urge to capture her hand in his in order to maintain the physical contact. He continued to fight it as they walked to the bus stop.
Silence reigned between them as they stood with others who were also waiting for the bus, but it wasn’t the emotional silence he’d come to abhor. It was the silence of caution.
He felt the surreptitious gazes of those around them. If he consciously chose it, he could feel their emotions as well.
They didn’t interest him. Not beyond assuring himself they posed no threat.
He relaxed to enjoy the caress of a breeze. Araña’s scent mingled with that of flowers and trees, the earth itself, all of it becoming the sweet smell of physical freedom.
Tir hooded his eyes and lifted his face toward the heavens. The endless blue called to him, as if he could soar in its heights and become a part of it, forever above the earth and those who inhabited it.
Sunlight struck him, and he basked in the feel of it against his skin. He wouldn’t be shackled again. He’d see all of mankind destroyed before he allowed himself to be at the mercy of humans again.
The sound of a heavy diesel engine cut across his thoughts. Around him, those who waited for the bus shuffled their belongings and prepared to board.
He turned his attention to the street and watched the bus round a corner before slowing to a stop nearby. Fear spiked through Araña, along with quickly suppressed grief, her emotions echoing through him as if they were his own.
Tir reached for her, took her hand where moments before he’d denied himself the contact. Her fingers tightened on his, the sole, silent acknowledgment she gave that boarding the bus was difficult. And then she pulled away in order to pay their fare.
He followed her, allowing her to choose their seats. When he sat next to her, he cupped her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “I won’t allow you to be harmed,” he said, keeping his voice low but making sure she heard the depth of his pledge, the promise that settled into every fiber of his being.
Emotions bombarded him. So much pain and guilt it was nearly overwhelming.
“Stop,” he said. “You can’t undo the past.”
“I know.”
She escaped his grip and the snare of his eyes, and looked down, drawing his attention to the well-worn wallet in her hands. Her fingers traced the seam, the edges, trembled slightly as she opened it and removed the folded bills it contained.
“You should have money in case we get separated,” she said, counting out half of it, touching the denomination marks as she spoke the numbers out loud in case he was unfamiliar with the currency.
He wanted to deny they’d ever be separated, but he knew it would be a lie. She pressed the bills into his hand and he took them. Then she slid the wallet back into her pocket and turned away from him to look out the window.
A fist tightened around his heart. He edged closer, conscious of being watched, chafing at not being able to divert her thoughts and ease her with the joining of their bodies. His fingers tangled in her hair. But rather than force her to face him again, he combed through the silky locks, stroking the back of her neck.
His mouth whispered kisses against her cheek each time she flinched when a camouflage-painted vehicle passed. “Tell me about Matthew and Erik.”
She stiffened at the sound of their names, but Tir didn’t allow her to retreat. “Tell me,” he repeated, touching his lips to her earlobe, gently sucking it.
Her breath hitched, desire and pain mingling.
His free hand settled on her stomach, and he wished they were alone so he could slide his fingers beneath the waistband of her pants and cup her bare mound. He didn’t want her to feel anything but happiness and pleasure.
Before he was forced to ask her for a third time, she said, “They took me in when most wouldn’t have. They taught me what I needed to know in order to one day survive on my own. They made me believe in myself, in my worth despite… the things that set me apart. I loved them. I would have died in their place if I could have, even if it meant eternal damnation.”
Tir’s fingers tightened in her hair unintentionally. Jealousy scorched through him, along with violent denial at the idea of her giving up her life.
He forced himself to loosen his grip on her hair, to slow the agitated race of his heart. The heat of his reaction dissolved with the lash of her sadness across his soul.
Tir’s lips went to the corner of hers. “They wouldn’t have wanted you to surrender your life for theirs.”
“I know,” she said, her voice barely audible. “Matthew told me to live for all of us. It was the last thing he said to me before he was killed.”
Tir pressed a kiss to the corner of her lips before easing away from her and watc
hing as the city of Oakland was slowly revealed.
Hardscrabble poverty gave way to lesser poverty, and then to wealth. Estates gave way to the downtown area, where buildings rose in defiance of the past and citizens walked the streets.
Araña finally turned from the windows. “We should get off at the next stop.”
There were cursory glances in their direction as they left the bus. Speculative appraisal, but Tir could sense no threat.
“Which way?” he asked, smelling the ocean mixed with diesel fumes and roasting meat.
She indicated an alleyway. “There will be fewer people if we take whatever shortcuts we can and get to the road that runs along the waterfront.”
He nodded and followed where she led, content to turn his attention to keeping them both safe. When they reached the bay, Araña stopped well before where piers extended out into the water and docks hosted container ships being loaded and unloaded.
“I can see the Constellation from here,” she said, pointing to it. “She’s in the second slip from the end. This side.”
“Stay here. I’ll see what I can learn.”
Her fingers lightly shackled his wrist, and the restraint sent heat surging to his cock. “Be careful.”
Amusement filled him, flowing into his chest along with a warmth he didn’t want to look at too closely. He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. “Humans have far more to fear from me than I have to fear from them.”
Worry remained in her dark eyes, tugging at him, threatening to delay him. He made himself turn and walk away from her.
Tir approached the dock. He was careful to keep his head ducked and his face turned away from the camera mounted on the lamppost near its entrance, though he had no idea whether it was possible for his image to be captured on film or not.
The long-sleeved shirt chafed his skin after centuries of wearing minimal clothing. Its collar felt as tight and constricting as the sigil-inscribed one it hid.
He was confident he could recover Araña’s boat. But as he moved farther and farther from her, he hated knowing he’d left her unguarded.
The city wasn’t her home. Already it had proven unsafe for her.
He thought of the bloodstains on the ground she’d searched earlier, the strength it had taken for her to return to the place where her family had been killed. For centuries he’d despised humans, looked at them and seen only the worst of their natures, but she was different.
She hardened his body and softened his heart. She made him feel, and the emotions were uncomfortable, contradictory. Unwelcome. And yet when he was with her, he hated having any barrier between them.
It was only when he stepped foot on the wooden dock that she left his mind completely. He could feel dozens of open stares, and more that were hidden. A thick-necked man emerged from a small concrete building, pig eyes darting suspiciously.
“What’s your business here?” he said, the salt-sweat smell of him arriving along with his question.
“I’m interested in buying a boat,” Tir lied. “Are there any for sale?”
“Might be,” the man said, eyes traveling over Tir’s clothing in an effort to assess his wealth.
Tir did something he hadn’t done in centuries. He consciously opened himself to the man’s emotions.
They poured over him like oily refuse. Greed and suspicion dominated, mixed with a craving to feel flesh yield and bones break under meaty fists.
The temptation to end the human’s existence flashed through Tir like a lightning strike. Ragged and bright and primal.
Restraint came with great difficulty. It came only with thoughts of Araña waiting for him, worrying for him.
“I’ll investigate on my own,” Tir said, eyes boring into the man’s, letting him glimpse his own death in them.
The man stepped back, sensing something. Or perhaps he was being monitored by the camera as well.
A hatchet-faced man with an aura of authority emerged from the same concrete building as the dockhand. He took a step toward them.
The man in front of Tir said, “This way,” and turned, leading Tir directly to the boat he’d come to look at.
“It’s for sale?” Tir asked.
“Auction is tomorrow morning. Nine o’clock sharp. Cash. Unless you’ve worked out the terms of a barter beforehand with the guard.”
“I want to see belowdecks.”
The dockhand glanced back toward the concrete building. The hatchet-faced man was still standing there, watching.
“It’s unlocked.”
Tir boarded the boat. It was old but well maintained. And though there was no evidence of Araña or the men who’d been her family, Tir could see their presence in the care they’d taken.
Where there was wood, it was smooth and waxed, beautifully preserved. Sail covers and bags were faded and weather-worn, but meticulously mended, stowed, and tied.
Belowdecks a safe stood open, revealing shelves empty of valuables. Closet doors were the same, attesting to the fact that anything personal or valuable had been stripped from the boat.
Rage filled Tir. He felt the violation as if it were his own.
The boat was more than transportation to Araña. It was her home, a place that represented freedom and security—and while Matthew and Erik lived, happiness and family.
Tir returned to the deck and then to the dock, grateful the pig-eyed attendant was gone and not there to tempt him into venting his anger. He headed back toward land, taking in everything he could of his surroundings.
He noted the lights mounted on poles, which of the other boats were occupied, the landmasses and shorelines, as well as the distance to the docks where moored container ships and boats belonging to the powerful were patrolled by heavily armed men.
It was difficult to determine all of the security measures in place, or the danger involved in stealing the boat. But he was confident he could overcome them. Humans didn’t venture out in the night unless they had reason to—and then only if they were heavily armed and well paid.
The real problem lay in where to take the boat, where it could be safely hidden until their business in Oakland was finished.
Tir glanced at the sky. The sun was well into its descent.
Tension radiated from Araña when he rejoined her in the alley. “She’s been confiscated?”
“Yes. They auction your boat tomorrow morning.”
Her eyes went to the Constellation and her hands fisted. She glanced at the heavily patrolled piers where the wealthy kept boats.
He could feel her gather her control and wall up her emotions. “If I’m lucky, whoever buys the Constellation will keep her berthed where she is. I don’t know these waters well enough to know where it’s safe to leave her until I’m ready to go home. Getting her back will have to wait.”
A protest sounded in Tir’s soul at the thought of Araña leaving him, or thinking she could. When she would have turned away, he halted her by curling his fingers around her forearm. “We have until nightfall to find a place to hide the boat. If we do, I’ll recover it for you tonight.”
“It’s too dangerous,” Araña said, unable to bear the thought of Tir being recaptured. She’d rather lose the boat than see him in chains again. “Even if we learn of a place to hide her, there’s no time to watch and note the routines of those guarding the port and the docks.”
From Matthew and Erik she’d learned the importance of planning. Of having patience and watching, spotting the glitches in security that would allow a thief to both venture into another’s territory and escape it with whatever prize was sought.
Tir’s fingers tightened on her arm. “Do you think I can’t deliver on my promise to you?” he said in a silky voice, masculine affront seething, sliding into her through his touch.
Araña hid a sudden smile. In that moment he reminded her of Matthew, and there was no pain in it.
She did what Erik would have done, subconsciously modeling her behavior on his. She moved into Tir, and he released h
is punishing grip in favor of pulling her against him.
Twelve
ARAÑA wound her arms around his waist and hugged him to her. She ground her pelvis against his.
His hands moved up her back to tangle in her hair. His lips descended to settle on hers in a fierce, dominating kiss, a show of power she acknowledged and acquiesced to.
She yielded, melted into him. Whimpered as moisture flooded her channel and escaped from her slit.
He deepened the kiss, moving to pin her against the wall in a primal demonstration of strength that made her feel exquisitely feminine.
She wanted to shed her clothes and welcome him into her body. To kneel in front of him and take his cock into her mouth in a show of ultimate submission.
“I need you, Tir,” she whispered when he allowed her breath, her plea covering more than just the desire she felt for him.
She’d craved touch all her life, but now that she’d known his, she knew no other would satisfy her. “I don’t want you to be injured or enslaved because of me.”
Tir’s hands left her hair to cup her face, then slid downward to cover her breasts. He rubbed his palms over pebbled nipples, making her moan, before smoothing them down her sides to settle at her waist.
Her womb fluttered and her cunt lips grew more swollen. She rubbed her hardened clit against his erection.
His fingers tightened. “Stop or I’ll take you here. There’s not much time if we hope to find a safe place for your boat.”
A shudder went through her, but she obeyed, forcing her mind back to what was important. “Levi and Rebekka are the only people I know in Oakland. We can go back to the red zone and see if they’re at the brothel.”
Her passion cooled with thoughts of Rebekka and the remembered vision. Worry slid into her gut and coiled there, waiting to change into guilt.
Tir’s eyes darkened. “The Were left me for the guardsmen.”
Araña didn’t deny the truth in his statement, but she countered it with a question. “Would you have done differently in his place? Especially for someone you thought was human? And a criminal?”
Tir’s nostril’s flared. “I would see mankind wiped from the face of the earth if it were left to me.” He leaned in abruptly. Close enough so their breath mingled. “Except for you. You I would allow to live.”
