Moonlight Mist: A Limited Edition Collection of Fantasy & Paranormal)

by Nicole Morgan

  Aurora shoved the thought away. She didn’t have time or the will to delve into his motives or what could be. She’d spent too much time trapped in the house, in the dark, which weakened her with each passing minute. Daybreak would buoy her strength. The healing rays of the sun would cleanse her soul and cease all doubt. She was here for a single purpose.

  An option of last resort, the pendant hanging around her neck would do the same, but to use that source of power was to admit failure, and return defeated to her lowly station. She would do anything to avoid that outcome. What if she gave the pendant to him?

  She cracked open the French door and peered beyond the balcony railing. The night continued to cling to the landscape. What time was it? Usually her inner circadian clock knew the precise moment day would break. Even in her diminished state that power should still be hers. Now, she could no longer tell. Lightning zigzagged across the sky. Thick cumulonimbus clouds stretched miles into the atmosphere and, as far as she could see, circled the house. No sky. No stars. The hand clutching the curtains shook.

  I am more than that. Greater than what I was created to be. I won’t go back. No weakness, remember. Find the portal. It’s your only hope.

  A shudder raced through her. The truth: She sucked at her assigned duty. Once, she found satisfaction with the position. Light and joy filled her soul. Both she readily shared with all. Until her compassion had withered. When did it change, she’d often wondered, and why was that important now? She clutched her head and rocked. Too many things crowded her mind. She had to stop the flow, but it consumed. Minutes passed as she methodically cleansed her mind and focused on the task at hand, the portal.

  Her assignment was to force Warrant to face what his defection had wrought. Judge and redeem him, thus clearing the way for the portal to be found and destroyed by the Celestial Army. Brute force had been tried and failed many times. The death toll innumerable. Warrant and his brethren were formidable. Michael had decided on this tactic to minimize further losses. It was a good plan. It would have worked if she didn’t fail.

  Aurora exited the room and treaded quietly down the center of the hallway. The valley between her breasts itched. She ignored her irritated skin and the pendant causing the discomfort, and concentrated on her surroundings. She’d missed something on her first go-around, but wouldn’t this time.

  Couldn’t.

  She knocked softly on each wall. Though only for a minuscule amount, she dipped into her power for aid as she searched for a hidden room. Her fingers touched the peeling wallpaper and plaster on the walls, collecting more than dust and cobwebs. As she progressed from wall to wall, a growing awareness took root and spread to every cell.

  A sob tore through her throat, followed by tears flowing down her cheeks. Grief choked her. She stumbled along. A few steps later, her grief changed to a slow simmering anger. The type of anger held in check by a deceitful heart. By the time she made it to the stairs, jealousy stabbed her. She doubled over, clutching her side against the escalating pain with one hand, the railing with the other. Concentrating on each step kept her from falling headfirst down the stairs. The pain had ceased by the time she reached the bottom step. In its place, depression swallowed her mind and she sank into a fetid, dank hole.

  Aurora landed on her knees and crawled. The darkness crashed into her like waves battering a rocky shore with brief flashes of candlelight. These poisonous emotions were not her own. They belonged to the house. She shouldn’t have tapped into her power. Now, all the lingering emotions of the past inhabitants seeped through her fingertips and into her consciousness.

  Somehow the emotions of the long gone or dead inhabitants had collected into the brick and mortar, plaster, and paint of the structure. Decades of agony and heartache, murderous rage and grinding despair. Those emotions had seeped into the foundation and waited for the right someone to come along and stir them to the surface.

  She crawled her way into the living room, desperate to escape. Fear crashed into her. The emotion tore through her guts and left her quivering on the floor.

  “Warrant.” She choked on his name and suffocated under the unbearable emotion. Where was he? Why wasn’t he here? She crawled further into the room and made it to the fireplace. She baked from the inside out. The crackling flames didn’t compare to the lust suddenly consuming her.

  Her nipples puckered and rubbed against the soft material of the shirt. Inner muscles clenched with need and wetness pooled as her skin turned hypersensitive. She felt hollow and desperate for release. Her legs alternately rubbed and squeezed together, riding the tide of lust surfing her blood. This lust wasn’t hers. Yet she was helpless to stop her response.

  She heard her name, then saw Warrant rushing toward her. She reached for him at the same time he swept her into his arms.

  Where were you?

  “Forgive me for leaving you.” He caged her writhing body, yet she didn’t feel imprisoned as she rubbed against his hard body. She felt alive.

  Chapter Seven

  Aurora locked her arms around him and yanked him closer. Chest to breasts, abdomen to abdomen, she straddled his waist and ground herself against him, earning a strangled groan from Warrant. She aimed for his lips, needing his tongue in her mouth. He turned his head away and her lips landed on his neck. His skin, so warm, she licked. A decadent dessert, his taste exploded on her tongue only and hit her bloodstream as a narcotic. Instantly addicted, she feasted on his flesh, and relished the deep shudder that shook him.

  “You don’t want this. This isn’t you,” he said as he fisted her hair and gently pulled her away.

  She met his heated gaze and didn’t burst into flames because she already burned. How could he say she didn’t want this, him, when all she could think about was his flesh next to hers? Inside her. Filling. Dominating. She wanted this…didn’t she? A roll of her hips brought her core in contact with the erection straining between his thighs. Her mind blanked.

  His heavy hand squeezed her hip, stilled her movement, while the other stayed in her hair and angled her head. “This isn’t you. It’s the house, all the emotions locked in the walls, the foundation. Search your heart. You don’t want me.”

  Panting, head reeling, she gripped his shirt and lifted the edge. Warm, rippled skin met her palm. A growl ripped from his throat as she explored new territory. The hands on her hip and in her hair briefly turned painful then released. He crushed her to him, her hand and body locked in place.

  “Don’t push me.” His breath fanned her temple. “I don’t want your hate.”

  Face pressed to the curve of his neck, she licked at the dip between his collarbones, then up the column of his throat. Something between a groan and a growl fell from his lips, then his mouth swooped down on hers and stole her breath. His tongue thrust into her mouth, slick and sweet, and dominate. All of her loosened in a quest for more of his taste, his scent, his touch. His erection pressed into her, and she needed more of that too and rocked against him.

  He broke the kiss, tore his lips away from her. She dug her nails into the taut skin of his back and refused to let him separate them. He hissed, bared his teeth. Aurora didn’t back down. She licked the corner of his mouth and stole another torrid kiss.

  “Aurora,” he pleaded. “Stretch your aura, use your power, just a little of it. You’ll see, this isn’t you.”

  The desperation in his voice pierced the lust surrounding her. Reason returned in a brilliant flash, followed by clarity. She leaped away from him. Tripping over her feet, she scrambled to the opposite side of the room and huddled in the chair while her senses did a Tilt-a-Whirl. Her heart banged in her chest. Her limbs quivered. She watched Warrant, as if she’d never seen him, didn’t know what he was. Pain twisted his features, then his shuttered gaze latched onto her.

  “You see, I was correct. Those emotions weren’t yours.” He pushed to his feet and gave Aurora his broad back.

  He was right and wrong at the same time. The emotions weren’t hers, initi
ally. That changed when his tongue invaded her mouth. The emotions of the house vanished, leaving only hers. She wanted him with an insane desperation and from what she gleaned from Warrant, a storm driven pool of desire and protection seethed within him. His emotions combined with hers, inflamed her body. Awakening a need that had never existed. Now, a hollow sensation settled in her chest.

  She couldn’t blame it on whatever was trapped in the house. The passion flaring between them reared the second he touched her. Confined for so long any man’s touch would do.

  Confined? The image of her, huddled, filthy and hungry, at the bottom of a dank hole in some forgotten place sprang into her mind. A blast of cold swept from her insides out. Hollowed her out and filled her with terror.

  Goose bumps pebbled her bared arms and she shivered. She shook her head to clear the disturbing images. Breathe. Aurora sucked in a sip of air. As she rubbed her skin and tried to shut down her senses, a new emotion wafted in the air. Sorrow.

  This damned house…wait. Not old and lingering from a heart broken eons ago. This sorrow was fresh and scalpel sharp.

  Pain strafed her senses for the continued forbidden use. Still, though it could cost her everything, and possibly it already had, Aurora stretched her aura once more. Coils of her energy streamed from her body, seeking the source of the distress. This was what she was created to do. What she couldn’t remove and cram into the pendant. A Comfort angel. Her aura seeped into the walls, searching for the source of the sorrow.

  Her aura brushed Warrant—and recoiled.

  His regret flooded her senses, came at her in a raging downpour. She could tell he tried to rein in his emotions, but his misery was vast. A monsoon trapped beneath his skin. It couldn’t be. Was impossible. An UnHallowed didn’t feel. Yet when her aura touched his flesh, sorrow was exactly what she discovered.

  Awed, she went to him and laid her hands on his back. The muscles trembled beneath her hands. “Tell me. Let me share it, ease some of the burden.”

  The words came so easily. The need to give him comfort nullified all her schemes and desires.

  He shook his bowed head once. Drawn to him on more levels than she cared to examine, Aurora dragged her hands across his back, around to his chest, and rested them on his pecs. He didn’t remove them, but pressed them closer. He croaked, “This isn’t about me. My burdens are not yours to bear.”

  She couldn’t believe what she was about to say but—“I’m here for you, Warrant. This was—is my purpose. What it has always been.” He shook his head again. She moved around to stand in front of him. The grim line of his lips parted, no doubt to argue, but she’d had enough. She silenced him with a single finger pressed to his lips. The surprise on his face pleased her, as did the shock when she slipped her hand beneath his shirt and touched his flesh.

  An electric charge zinged her, connecting them more than just flesh touching flesh. She gasped, but not from pain.

  “What have you done to me?” He groaned and settled his hands on her waist.

  Afraid he’d push her away, she leaned against him and fed more of her aura into him. Streams of compassion seeped from her, into him. What she hated for so long, now she willingly gave. And not for her gain, but just because he suffered.

  “You shouldn’t be able to do this. H-how are you doing this?” he stuttered.

  When was the last time she’d done something for someone else? Not because it was her ingrained duty, but because she desired the connection. She stretched her mind, sifting through layers of memories for a single instance. And came up with…nothing.

  The overwhelming need to give Warrant comfort blocked all her other desires. “Tell me of your sorrow.”

  Warrant eased her off his chest. He cupped her face with both hands before she protested. His rough fingers brushed her cheeks and trailed her jaw. Worry bled from him. His features alternately tightened and shuttered. Many times she’d seen this response. His sorrow needed to be assuaged, yet didn’t know how to accept the succor she offered. He opened his mouth, but paused, and seemed to consider his words.

  She filled the gap. “Let me be what I once was. A Comfort in the storm. I used to be good at it; I’m not as strong as I used to be.” The pendant heated in her cleavage, reminding her of its presence. “But I want to help you.”

  Forehead to forehead, he looked deep into her eyes and whispered, “Why? I’m the enemy. Your enemy.”

  Her head began to ache again. His fingers slipped into her hair and massaged her scalp as if knowing where her pain lay. Good fell far short of how wonderful it felt. She fell back, secure that he wouldn’t let her fall. One arm banded around her waist, the other continued to travel through her hair. “You’re not my enemy, are you?” Hope mingled with certainty.

  He didn’t answer.

  “No matter how much I want you to be, you’re not. You saved me from the storm. Wrapped my feet, carried me to bed. Fed me. Protected me from the Darkling.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “And after I chained you, you still didn’t hurt me when you could have killed me, or worse.”

  He cradled her, bringing her closer to his heat.

  “And you just cured my headache.” That earned her a smile. She moved her hand from his chest and touched his lips. Stroked her finger along the bottom lip until they parted, and her finger slipped into his warm depths. His tongue swirled around the digit and all she could think of was of all the other places his tongue needed to taste.

  Aurora fisted his shirt and brought him to her. She kissed him.

  If she had her full power, she could’ve absorbed his sorrow. Instead, she gave what comfort she could with the touch of her lips, the glide of her tongue, the nip of her teeth. And took comfort in the feel of his hands kneading the curve of her hips on the way to her derriere.

  He folded her in his arms and brought her flush against the full length of him. Aurora basked in his strength, his presence. A bout of weightlessness had her spinning, then something hard behind her back grounded her. But that shouldn’t be possible. She opened her eyes and glanced around. “Where are we?”

  Windowless, with brick walls the color of clay, the square chamber was little more than a prison. And nearly barren. She lay on a large, hard sofa with a blanket tossed at one end and a single storage trunk shoved into a corner. That was it.

  “You asked where I sleep. This is the place.” His voice was gruff, almost hostile as he sat on the lid of the closed chest.

  “Why?” She pushed up and sat on the edge of a hard cushion no one should have to lay on. “Why sleep here when there are plenty of rooms…upstairs? Are we downstairs? Where are we?” Her gaze darted from corner to corner to return to Warrant.

  He wasn’t looking at her. He focused on the tension in his steepled hands. “I sleep here, below the foundation of the house.”

  Her breath caught.

  “The better to do my job,” he said before she could ask. “You wanted to know my sorrow?” He stood and held out his hand. “Come, I will show you. Then you will decide if I still deserve your compassion.”

  Fear kept her hands fisted at her sides. Yet anticipation of so many things had her body humming. This was what she’d wanted. The portal had to be close, so why the panic? Warrant, his hand outstretched, waited for her to accept him.

  Aurora rose from the sofa and closed the distance between them. Their palms touched, his warm in comparison to hers. His fingers tightened around her trembling hand. She allowed him to pull her to her feet. “First, how did you bring me here?” She stalled. Now that the moment was here, she didn’t want to see, to know.

  “Through the shadows.”

  She nodded. “Is that how we will travel now?”

  His thumb rubbed the back of her hand. Then he caught himself and released her. He crossed to the opposite wall. It faded as he approached, revealing an earthen tunnel. No light. That didn’t stop Warrant from marching into the darkness. No hesitation in his steps.

  He stopped when she didn’t follow, an
d glanced over his shoulder. “Coming?” His voice echoed.

  She couldn’t go in there. The complete absence of light not only terrified her, but would deplete her aura, leaving her vulnerable.

  “Nothing will harm you when you’re with me. Come.”

  Heart rate escalating, feet glued in place, she shook her head.

  He came to her, a bit more substantial than the shadows he controlled, concern, not scorn tightened his features. “I bet if you concentrate…the dark will hold no mystery for you. Look around this room.” His hand waved at their surroundings. “There’s no light here, but you’re not afraid.”

  Aurora jerked away from Warrant. Her gaze ricocheted around the space. Everything had a gray wash to it, but was clearly visible, as if bathed in the weakest moonlight. How could she have missed this? And when did this happen?

  She walked over to the chest in the corner of the room and touched the rough wooden surface. Then the firm earthen walls. Relief flooded her when it didn’t crumble under her hand. Blinking hard, she examined her hands. In the non-existent light, they were grayish. As was Warrant, except his skin had a strange luminescence to it. Almost as if a hint of grace flowed beneath the surface. Impossible. “How did you know I would be able to see?”

  “You felt the emotions of the house. I took a guess you would be able to see in the darkness, even in your altered state.” Warrant waited with more patience than she thought possible.

  Humans couldn’t see in complete dark, not naturally without the aid of special glasses. Humans were quite resourceful. But she wasn’t using technology. She wanted to reach for her pendant, but didn’t.

  Warrant pivoted and strode down the tunnel without her. Aurora trailed behind at a sedate pace, not trusting her scotopic eyesight, but trusting Warrant. The tunnel sloped downward. The rocky ground bruised her tender feet. Hobbling along, she didn’t let the pain stop her. The tunnel widened and ahead she discerned an open space.

  It couldn’t be this easy?