Elise's eyelids fluttered open, and when her eyes, the color of the sea that surrounded his native Ireland, locked on him, he drew in a quick breath. Part of him knew that the intense feelings he had for Elise were a result of Dakota pushing through the barrier, but he couldn't bring himself to care.
"What's so amusing?" he said, his voice gruff as he attempted to get control of the desire that seemed to go from a flicker to a raging inferno in seconds.
"Everything, nothing...maybe I'm accepting my fate gracefully."
A ghost of a smile pulled at her mouth, before she shrugged and leaned forward, crossing her arms over her chest. It was then that he noticed a few buttons had popped off her blouse when he had grabbed her, leaving her pink bra and the curve of one breast in clear view.
Atticus tilted his head to the side, bringing his focus back to her face and was unable to rip his gaze from hers.
"You've had quite a change of attitude," he said.
"Maybe..." She folded her legs under her hips. "But I've got a plan..."
"What kind of plan," he asked.
"You'll find out soon enough," she said, running pale fingers through her hair.
Rage, hot and wild, flooded his body, because she wasn't allowed to keep secrets from him.
"You'll tell me what you're planning, now," he said through tight lips.
He needed details, because the last thing he wanted, was an unknown variable that could upset his designs. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, and jerked her head back until her neck bowed, not hard enough to hurt her, but with enough force to let her know he meant business.
"Tell me now."
Elise glanced at him unfazed. “No."
"I'll make you tell me," he said.
He wrapped his hand around her throat, and started to squeeze, but before he could get a solid grip something inside him, turned his planned attack into a caress. One hand fingered the tender skin of her neck, luxuriating in the sensation, while the other pulled her closer. Her eyes widened, but before she could say anything, his mouth caught hers. As surprising as it was that he was kissing her, with tenderness that wasn't his, was that she was responding.
Her tongue played across his, before she caught his bottom lip playfully between her teeth. When she skimmed her fingers through his hair, he crushed her closer, needing to possess her in every way possible. Even as he kissed the length of her neck, a part of him ordered himself to stop, but he didn't have the strength to listen. He dipped his hand into Elise's blouse, cupping a breast, before trailing a thumb over her nipple, already hard against his touch. She moaned into his tousled hair, and the sound of it made him growl deep in his throat.
Elise moved down to his chest, trailing hot kisses across his skin, until it was almost too much pleasure to endure. In a languid move, she straddled him, and when she did, he ripped the last few buttons off her blouse, and stared at her beautiful breasts, still cradled in her bra. Her nipples pushed against the satiny fabric, and seeing her arousal, set him mad with excitement. Pushing the half moons of material aside with his long fingers, Atticus clasped a naked breast in his mouth, his tongue circling the nipple before he scraped his teeth over the tip.
Elise bucked, then leaned into his mouth giving Atticus more of her, and he responded by licking and sucking harder. Without stopping, he reached around her, unbuttoned her bra, and let it fall away. And all he could think was how beautiful and perfect she was, and how much he loved her.
"Make love to me," she whispered against his cheek, then nibbled his earlobe.
Her hair felt like sleek ribbons across his face. When she pushed him back against the floor, he no longer cared that he was covered in dirt and grime, or that Elise's virginity needed to be preserved. Making love to her was worth so much more than the power he would achieve at the ceremony. Elise was everything to him, and he knew that the only way to protect her was by taking the one thing that made her special, and after he'd had her virtue, they could run away together. But even as his mind was rife with carnal pleasures, his lips were moving, and the words they were saying weren't welcome.
"I can't do this," Atticus said, as his fingers unbuttoned the top of Elise's jeans.
Without pause, he slipped the zipper down, revealing the triangle of her pink panties. She smiled down at him, gliding her tongue over her lips, leaving them shiny and kissable.
"Yes, you can," she responded, unfastening his leather vest with agile fingers.
"Where are the cuts you had on your chest?" she said, touching his pectoral muscles that now showed no sign of damage.
"Magick," he whispered.
His response must had been enough, because Elise fell on him, kissing a line from the hollow of his throat down the length of his chest, to the waistband of his pants, that fell just below his sculpted pelvis. She popped open the button of his leather pants and undid the front, and since he wasn't wearing underwear, the very part of him that she was looking for, broke free. Atticus groaned with the release. Elise rubbed her lips together, before she pushed her jeans down, wiggling her hips until she was able to pull her legs free.
Atticus watched her toss the pants to the side, and unable to still his hands, he reached for her, deftly sliding her up until she was positioned over his erection, her pink panties moist against him. With just a skim of fabric between them, Elise ground her pelvis against his hardness, bringing him to the brink of orgasm.
Knowing he couldn't hold on much longer, Atticus gripped her buttocks and arched his body up in rhythm with her, but even as he did, the same voice, somewhere deep inside his mind, ordered him to stop, before it was too late. Only he knew he couldn't, because as much as he needed oxygen in his lungs and magick in his blood, he needed to have Elise more, because he had been created to make love to her.
Elise slipped her weight off him long enough to tug off her panties. Atticus hauled off his pants and vest, and was satisfied to be rid of anything that came between them. Elise kneeled beside him, and for a second just stared at his naked form. It took all his will not to force her onto him, but he knew her well enough to give her the time she required, even so, his patience waned.
"Please, now," he heard himself say, absolute desperation in his tone, and he despised that he was actually asking for the very thing that women were always too happy to give him. Elise closed her eyes for a fraction of a second, then caught her top lip between her teeth, before draping a leg across his waist. As soon as she was atop him again, she slid down his torso.
"I love you," Atticus moaned, guiding Elise's hips down, until his throbbing erection came to rest against her buttock.
He grasped her hips, lifted her up, then gazed up at her with nothing less than adoration, but when he heard someone release an ear-splitting screech, then hurried footsteps against wood, he froze like an icicle. Elise didn't react to the voice, and pushed down with her hips, trying to finish what they had started, but before she could, the fog that had muddled Atticus's mind, cleared.
"Get away from me," he hollered, then pushed her off him. Elise tumbled to the side, shock and disbelief evident on her face.
"What the hell are you doing?" Mira demanded, racing toward him.
Nanny Flo, just a few steps behind, glowered down at Atticus. He flushed with indignation, and was still not sure how it all had happened. Baffled, and just short of wanting to rip off his own manhood, he ignored the accusatory scowls that both Nanny Flo and Mira shot his way.
"She did something to me," he said, motioning toward Elise, who had recovered from being thrown, and was quietly dressing.
"She did nothing to you other than show you her feminine wiles. You're a weak man and a poor excuse for a donor," Nanny Flo said.
She strode forward, and hit Atticus, still naked, across the cheek. He clenched his fists at his sides, fighting the urge to kill the old woman. The only thing that stayed his hand, was the knowledge that he deserved whatever she dished out.
"For the second time you've almost ruined e
verything," Nanny Flo shrieked, hitting him over and again, each blow fiercer than the last, until Atticus lost count. Finally, Mira stepped in, and grabbed the old woman's wrinkled arm.
"Enough," she said, and there was hurt in her brown eyes. Seeing it repulsed Atticus, because it only confirmed what he had known for years, the little minx was smitten with him.
He didn't deny that he had used Mira's love for him to his advantage over the years, virtually making her his slave. He always knew that if he gave her just enough hope of a possible future for them, there was nothing she wouldn't do for him. Of course the sex was hot. Mira had enough magick that when they were together, he could feel the distinctive buzz of their energy transferring back and forth, but it was nothing like the raw power that he had felt with Elise. Even though she was bound by spells, Elise exuded magickal energy, and it drew him in like a bee to honey, and only now did he realize how truly dangerous that could be.
"Take her back to the house, and keep her far away from him," Nanny Flo hissed, jabbing a bony finger against Atticus's chest. "And keep her away from that thing," she spat, motioning to his sex. Seething, and with his fingers twitching for release, Atticus snatched up his clothes and dressed.
Mira watched him for another minute, then bared her teeth. She seized Elise by the arm and shoved her forward.
"I'm not giving up on you Dakota," Elise threw over her shoulder, as Mira forced her out of the house, leaving Atticus alone with Nanny Flo.
Choosing to ignore the mention of the other, since it would only serve to incense him further, he asked. "How did you know we were here?"
With his mind focused again, the fact that he was just feet away from where he had hidden the bolo knife, caused a cold sweat to break out on his back.
He slid his gaze over to where his bag was lying on the floor, then back to Nanny Flo.
"The spell we placed on her, led us to you two," she said. "You're lucky that the Aswang were engaged with other tasks, because if they had found you instead of me, they surely would have killed you."
He nodded, knowing she was right. He was already on thin ice with the Aswang. If not for the old woman's intervention he would be dead now and spending the rest of eternity in the Underworld. He had recklessly risked his life for a roll in the hay, and though he would never admit it, his control over the part called Dakota was slipping, but he didn't know how to stop it from happening.
"Thank-you," he said, in a bitten off response.
She shrugged. "I didn't do it for you, I did it for the collective magick, and from what I know, your magick is the best match to couple with Elise's, but make another mistake and I'll drive a knife into you, and watch the Aswang suck your intestines out piece by piece."
Atticus instinctively shivered at the image that came with her words.
"I admit that I fucked up, but what about the spell that kept her a virgin all these years? She was all over me, why didn't it kick in?"
Nanny Flo shrugged. "With less than twenty-four hours left before the ritual, the Aswang demanded that we release all the spells. They want her at her full magickal potential, so she will be ripe for the taking."
"What about the spell that bound her power?"
Nanny Flo turned around and ambled toward the door.
"It's all gone, the Aswang didn't even want the tracking spell, but grudgingly agreed so they could keep tabs on their property."
Atticus snagged his bag off the floor, and followed Nanny Flo.
"It's going to be more difficult to control her," he said.
Nanny Flo whirled to face him, her distaste for him evident.
“Exactly."
"I'll keep away from her until the time is right," Atticus said, bowing his head in deference, and the move felt wrong in every fiber of his being. But he was bright enough to know that if he provoked the old woman any further, she might turn on him. He hadn't come this far to lose her as an ally, not yet at least.
Nanny Flo's eyes dropped to the bag in his hand, then back to his face.
"What were you doing in here anyway? The ceremony isn't until tomorrow evening and the Aswang will want to prepare everything themselves."
Atticus's breath caught, but he recovered quick enough that he hoped the old woman hadn't noticed his pause.
"I just wanted to get a feel for the place before the ritual, so I will be perfect."
She crossed her arms over her chest, and although she didn't look convinced, she didn't seem overly suspicious either.
"Forbidden fruit is always the sweetest," she said, then turned and strolled away.
And as she moved away, Atticus noted that her back was more hunched, and she seemed frailer than before. He wondered with amusement if she was finally giving in to the years.
As he exited the house, he glanced up. The sky was streaked with purple and pink, and the sun was making its final appearance between the mesh of trees, and in the back of his mind, he pondered if it was one of the last sunsets he would be alive to see.
22. ELISE
As soon as Atticus slammed the bedroom door, I wanted to dissolve into a puddle of tears. The grim realization that I had been a puppet on a string from the moment I had been born, had me feeling like a well-fed cow that had been bred its whole life to serve one purpose, be the best steak possible.
I wasn't sure if I had it in me to hate Nanny Flo though. She had brought me up from the time I was born, stayed up with me when I had been sick, and had given up every one of her dreams so she could be the best parent, or so I thought. Now, with everything out in the open, the truly calculated and premeditated course of her actions played with my already muddled brain. It had been easy to accept Mira's part in the plan, she wore her malice on her sleeve, but not Nanny Flo.
I flopped back on the bed, wondering what my life would have looked like if my mother hadn't died. Would she have protected me from Nanny Flo? Or would she have been as brainwashed as the others were, and believed that my only purpose was to have the life siphoned out of me. Suddenly, everything in the room was just another reminder of how I had been duped.
I leapt from the bed and tried to open the tarnished brass knob of the door, as expected Atticus had locked it. I grinned, because what neither he nor Nanny Flo knew, was that the door wasn't my only mode of exit. When I had been a teenager and Nanny Flo, as she always did, had barred me from going to a party where there would be boys, I often times managed to go to the party anyway, in fact I had been a pro at it.
I was aware that Atticus's threats were genuine, but I couldn't stomach another moment in the room. I strode over to the four-pane window, and pushed it up just enough to slip outside. The drop was only a few feet down, and I landed soundlessly on the tall grass. I cut a wide circle around the house, ensuring that I didn't venture past the kitchen. I peered around the corner, just as Atticus, clutching a black duffel bag in his hand, stalked down the driveway and turned right onto the gravel road. Intrigued, I followed him, keeping a large enough distance between us not to get caught.
A few minutes later he swerved into the overgrowth leading to the haunted house, and by the time I had turned the corner, he had already vanished. Assuming that he had gone into the house, I climbed the stairs, and when I did they creaked so loudly that I was certain anyone in a three-mile radius would have heard my pathetic attempt at being stealthy. I froze after a particularly loud squeak, waiting for Atticus to catch me, but when he didn't appear, I pushed on.
The front door was slightly ajar, confirming that he had gone in ahead of me. I slipped into the house, and as soon as I passed the threshold, I spotted him. Oblivious to my presence, I saw a flash of metal, then his arm disappeared into the fireplace, and when he withdrew it again his hand was empty. Then with speed that I was beginning to become accustomed to, he was on his feet glaring at me.
I instantly felt pinned in place, because every muscle in his frame seemed stretched taut with tension, like an animal ready to attack, then he relaxed. Anger still lit his fac
e, but something else too, desire. And in that moment I didn't care why Atticus was there, or what he had hidden in the chimney, because I saw that I had an opportunity to right a few of the wrongs that had been done to me. Before I died, I would lose the one thing that I had been spelled to protect, my virginity.
Anticipation mixed with fear, and made my body tingle. I broke into giddy laughter. After all this time I was finally going to let go of something that I had thought I had preserved willingly. I mused whether the spell would still prevent me from having sex with Atticus, but decided that I needed to at least try. With no experience in the matter, I silently ordered myself to relax, and keep him talking long enough to find the courage I needed to seduce him. For once in my life, I wished I'd had Mira's sexual experience.
Now, with his hand on my throat, I knew I had made a mistake, because instead of seducing him, I had only managed to set off his temper, and it was a bit tough to have sex with someone who was trying to kill you. But before I could shift out of his grasp, his fingers relaxed, and with feather light strokes, he caressed my throat. With our faces just inches apart, I stared into his eyes, and for a moment I was sure I witnessed the ghost of Dakota in his gaze, and seeing it was all I needed to let go of my inhibitions.
My blood ran hot, and my breathing sped up. I wanted him, not only because it would save my life, but also because trapped inside him, was the only man I had ever loved, and if this was the only chance I had to make love to him, then I was going to take it. As his warm hands slid across my skin, I convinced myself that Dakota had broken through, and it was his hands on me. He touched, kissed and explored my body, and it made me pulse with a need so raw that it seemed I would implode if we didn't finish what we had started, because only then would we be truly one.
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