by Larissa Ladd
Dylan sighed sadly, withdrawing his fingers from the water and sitting back. The boy would be just as terrified as the people who had to hastily evacuate. He would be a difficult elemental to track, running constantly. But if he was trying to avoid sleeping, he would be easier to flush out when they did locate him; and Dylan thought that if he’d started more than a couple of fires in his sleep, the boy probably was trying to avoid going to bed, terrified that he would do it again. Fearful elementals were dangerous in their own way—but they were much less dangerous, typically, than those who delighted in their excessive, uncontrolled power.
It had been a month since the visit to his mother’s house. Dylan had plunged himself into his work, strengthening his abilities, preparing for the day when he would come into his own inheritance. His birthday—the magical one, the important one—would be arriving in less than a year, and he wanted to have as good a grasp as possible on his energy. Seeing what Aira had gone through, what his older brother had endured, and hearing about other coming-of-age experiences of water elementals, Dylan was determined to keep the people around him safe. It was one thing to accidentally flood a house in the days before widespread electricity. It was quite another when flooding a house might mean electrocuting someone on accident.
Dylan had also observed the changes in the relationship between his older brother and Aira. They still fought—they bickered as fiercely as they ever had—but the topics of their arguments had an underlying tension that Dylan could read as easily as a river’s flow. Aira was slowly but surely coming around to the idea of marrying his brother; their arguments were her final attempts to enforce her freedom and independence before she gave in. Dylan thought wryly that if Aiden’s destiny in this life was to learn patience, his choice of mate had definitely enabled that lesson. The engagement ring had remained hidden, and would continue to be unknown to Aira until Aiden felt confident that proposing wouldn’t result in her absolutely rejecting the idea of marrying him. It traveled with them everywhere—Dylan felt almost certain that Aiden had started actually carrying it on his person, concealed in a pocket—but it was not to be mentioned in Aira’s presence until she was ready.
Aira was changing as well—not in a way that was alarming to Dylan, but in subtle ways that showed him that she was beginning to settle into her role as Aiden’s mate. She had gained patience, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths rather than shooting out the first irritated retort that flew to mind. She was keenly aware of the fact that whenever she and Aiden became too passionate—whenever they allowed their tempers to feed into each other—the result was a lightning storm, or a spontaneous blaze, or a gale that would be difficult for the news to explain. If she was found to be unfit as a ruler, too unstable in spite of the measures she had taken to satisfy the Elders, she could be deposed. And if she were deposed, she would be a target; although she was an air elemental, whoever replaced her would not want such a strong power to contend with. Dylan had also seen the way that Aira looked at children; with a veiled eagerness, an interest that she hadn’t had before. Her alignment gave her a youthful, enthusiastic outlook that made it easy for her to bond with children, but her fascination wasn’t just that of a kindred spirit anymore. “I think you’re wrong about Aira having kids,” Dylan had told Aiden one night, when his brother’s mate had gone to bed early, exhausted from double duty as a ruler as well as a bounty hunter.
“What do you mean?” Aiden’s brow had furrowed in concern.
“I think if you can convince her to marry you, you’ll knock her up in a matter of months.” Aiden had rolled his eyes.
“She won’t want the restrictions having a kid would put on her.”
“She’s starting to get baby fever. I don’t care what you say; I can see it in her. She wants kids to raise. She wants to watch someone develop into an adult.” Aiden shook his head, but he was smiling.
“If you’re right, she’s almost ready to get married.”
“Oh man, it will only be a few more weeks. Get ready.”
Aira and Aiden came in while Dylan was still contemplating what he was able to discover in the scrying bowl. “I think I know where we should look,” Aira said, depositing a takeout bag on the table and sitting down.
“He’s running scared,” Dylan said, sighing. “Can’t be older than about fourteen.” Aiden grimaced.
“I was able to get in touch with some of the fire elementals here,” he said, digging into the bag and taking out an order of curry. “If we can track him down, they’ll smooth the way for him to leave the country so he can be judged.” Dylan knew that his older brother was only too aware of what it was like to come into the full flush of fire energy; even with preparation, even in a supportive atmosphere, it was frightening. How much more difficult, how terrifying would it be for someone who had no support, who was alone in the world?
“I found his school; we should check there tomorrow morning, see if we can find him. It’ll need to be all three of us.” Dylan nodded. His energy would suppress the burgeoning elemental’s defensive magic, while Aira could use her persuasion to smooth the way, and Aiden’s fire alignment would give him the ability to corral the kid. In their previous job, tracking down a powerful earth elemental, the final take down had been performed by Aiden and Dylan, with Aira waiting out of the line of fire. She had argued the point, but deep down she had known that the elemental would have every reason to try and neutralize her first.
They discussed their approach; Aira and Aiden had found out that the boy they were tracking had somehow managed to keep the fact of his lonely existence secret from the authorities, providing story after story of where he lived and who supported him. It would be tricky to get into the school, but between the three of them, it should be possible. They knew the kid’s name; they could get paperwork easily authorizing their custody of him, once they had him. “I really hope we can get him some help, get him some support,” Aira said, chewing her bottom lip thoughtfully. “Based on what we’ve heard—and what you’ve seen—he’s only a danger if he can’t get the help he needs to mature into a stable elemental. He’s not trying to hurt people.” Dylan nodded. “If they alienate him though…”
“The thing to avoid will be a preemptive decision to put him down,” Aiden said. Dylan grimaced.
“Yeah, that will be the trick.” Part of their process of apprehending elementals for the Elders was to evaluate their level of risk and submit their own reports. The Elders made their decision, the rulers weighed in—but the first line of defense was a good report: reasonable, accurate, and considered. Even the best report couldn’t save an elemental who the Elders and the elemental rulers both decided was simply too unstable or too potentially dangerous—elementals like Alex, the air elemental who had first tried to subvert Aira into bonding with him, and who had then poisoned her to try and get rid of her when she was called upon to judge his fate.
They talked well into the night, working out and rehashing their strategy, tweaking it for the specific issues that Japanese culture would impose. Dylan smiled privately to himself as he noticed Aiden deferring to Aira on issues of culture—his stubborn, bull-headed brother was learning to appreciate Aira’s nuanced understanding of people and how to manage them. It was only a matter of time, Dylan thought, with a mixture of satisfaction and sadness.
CHAPTER SIX
AIDEN’S ARMS TIGHTENED AROUND AIRA’S waist as he came out of a deep doze. They had made love, over and over again, for hours—to the point of bone-deep exhaustion and complete satisfaction, heedless of the lightning their passion created. Aira made a sleepy sound, shifting in bed until her body was pressed fully against his, and Aiden smiled. “Aren’t you glad you said yes?” he murmured, kissing her with his eyes still closed, uncaring of where his lips fell as long as it was somewhere on her body.
“Shut up,” Aira replied, but he could hear the smile in her voice. Aiden reached blindly for her left hand, found the hot-and-cold hardness of the ring on her finger, and reveled in
the fire-aligned energy that crackled within. Two months after their visit to his mother’s house, he had finally shown it to her—and proposed. Aiden had been nervous in spite of being as confident as he possibly could be that she would say yes, that Aira was ready to contemplate being his wife, as well as his mate. Aiden opened his eyes. For a moment, he had no words; Aira was so beautiful, her dark hair flowing across the pillow, her face softened by the languor of pleasure and exhaustion. He watched the rise and fall of her chest, played idly with the ring on her finger, smiling to himself at the significance of it—the ring proclaimed that she belonged to him, that she was his and he was hers. He had contemplated getting a ring that would suit both of their elemental natures—combining metals, or choosing stones with an air alignment that would complement the ruby he knew he wanted to take precedence. But in the end he had settled on materials aligned firmly with fire, wanting the whole world to know that she was the mate of a fire elemental.
“You aren’t going to regret this, you know?” Aiden told Aira softly, kissing her on the lips as lightly as he could. As much as he wanted to pull her body close and feel her yielding to him once more, he was just as exhausted as she was; he wasn’t ready for it yet physically. Aira opened her eyes and looked up at him, smiling faintly.
“I wouldn’t have said yes if I thought I would,” she told him, raising an eyebrow. “Thank you for waiting until I was ready.” Aira turned onto her side, reaching out and idly running her fingertips along his arm, across his ribs. “When we go on our honeymoon, we need to pick somewhere isolated.” Aiden chuckled, gathering up a few locks of her hair in his hand and giving it a playful tousle.
“Why is that?” Aira’s hazel eyes danced with mischief.
“Because that way there will be fewer people to remark on how frequent lightning storms have become. And we’re bound to end up lighting something on fire. The fewer people there are to notice, the better it will be.” Aiden grinned, leaning close and nibbling playfully along the column of her throat; he had made a point of learning each and every one of the spots on Aira’s body that made her melt, that made her breath catch in her throat, that made her moan and arch into his attentions with abandon. That she had learned similar insights about his body—the spot she could knead with her fingertips to bring him to his knees with pleasure, the way to run her fingers along his spine to quicken his pace—didn’t bother him at all.
“We’ll have to find a place that does unobtrusive room service,” He commented, letting his hands slither down along her body, between her thighs. He stroked her lightly—not intent on bringing her to a fever pitch just yet, but wanting to feel her shiver with the first tingles of desire. “I am not going to let you leave the room, and we’ll have to eat sometime.” Aira rolled her eyes, giving him a playful shove even as her hips pushed down, her body trying for better contact.
“We’ll have to leave the room sometime. Even with all the sex in the world, I can’t imagine we wouldn’t eventually get bored of the same four walls.” Aiden brought his lips up to hers and kissed her hungrily. He felt desire flood through him all at once—a banked fire that flared up with the slightest encouragement from Aira’s body.
“There’d be a bathroom—eight walls. If we got a suite, we’d have a living room, too. Twelve walls. We could stay very entertained there.” Aira laughed out loud, the sound breaking into a moan as Aiden stroked her more firmly, finding her pleasure center and rubbing it in circular movements with his fingertips.
“Stop distracting me!” she cried out, threading her fingers in his hair and holding him close. “You’re not going to convince me to go somewhere boring.” Aiden pressed her onto her back and covered her body with his.
“Never anywhere boring. I wouldn’t do that to you. But I’m just saying—as long as we have food and drink, I won’t have any reason to do anything other than love you, over and over again, until neither of us can even move… and then, once we recovered, do that all over again.” He thrust into Aira slowly, slipping his arms under her body and holding her close as they began to move together. He loved the way she felt—the velvet depths of her body, the slick sweat that built up between them, the way she flexed and twisted and writhed. They had explored each other’s bodies with only a little restraint since they had bonded; they both knew that there was a very real danger between their volatile essences in continuing beyond the point of reason, in exhausting themselves almost to the point of illness. The connection between them was intense—it would be easy to become addicted to each other, to lose all control. But in spite of that awareness, they had made love as much as they could: in the shower, in the bath tub, on the floor, in so many positions that Aiden almost considered buying a copy of the Kama Sutra just to have a checklist.
Aira’s voice filled his ears, rivaling the rumble of the thunder and shriek of the wind outside. Aiden had no idea what time it was—they had gone up to Aira’s bedroom as soon as they could, not wanting to leave Dylan out of their society nor appear to rub his face in their happiness. Aiden had proposed on impulse, somehow knowing that the time was right, that Aira was ready. It had been a proposal with little ceremony; they had come home from a meeting between Aira and the Elders, and Aiden while they were all talking about the outcome of their last assignment, winding down, and getting ready for a few days’ rest, had taken the jeweler’s box out of his pocket and gone on one knee.
Aira hadn’t even hesitated. Her eyes had widened when she saw the ring, when she understood what it meant. “Yes!” she had exclaimed, the word flying off her lips before she could even think. “Yes, I’ll marry you.” It had been torture to wait, to go to dinner with Dylan when Aiden’s whole body was vibrating with the need to demonstrate to Aira just how pleased he was that she was willing to make their bonding official.
They both fell into stillness together, panting slightly, and Aiden nuzzled into Aira’s neck, breathing in the scent of her body, closing his eyes for just a moment in a mixture of delicious exhaustion and the need to take her in as much as humanly possible. As the aftershocks of pleasure began to fade, he lifted himself up and sank down onto the bed next to her, draping his arms around Aira’s body lightly. “Who are you going to have for your maid of honor?” he asked her, taking a deep breath as his pulse began to slow back down to normal.
“I don’t have any idea at all. I assume Dylan’s going to be your best man.” It wasn’t quite a question.
“I think everyone would kill me if I didn’t ask him,” Aiden replied; he couldn’t think of anyone else he would want to have as his best man—there was no friend close enough, no relative dearer than his brother. “Find someone hot for him. He’s lonely.” Aiden had started to worry about Dylan; his younger brother wouldn’t abandon them, but he knew that Dylan longed for a connection of his own. He had seen the hunger in Dylan’s eyes, watching Aira interact with him. Dylan didn’t want Aira for himself—Aiden was possessive, but not insecure enough to suspect his brother—but it was easy for Aiden, contented and satisfied as he was, to understand Dylan’s yearning.
“Oh God,” Aira said, burying her face against his chest. “Your mom’s going to make this be a big stupid ceremony, isn’t she? I’m going to have like eight gaudily dressed women behind me and a billion flowers and a huge reception with people I don’t even know.” Aiden smiled to himself ruefully, kissing Aira’s temple and stroking her hair.
“You’re royalty; of course you’re going to have to have a royal wedding.” He shushed her gently as she started to fuss, clenching her teeth and tensing against him in instinctive rejection. “We’ll make it as small as humanly possible.”
“I just want to go to the JP and have like, three people there, and that’s it.” Aiden shook his head.
“It won’t be as bad as you think. But you know good and damned well that they won’t let you have a wedding like that. It’s going to be a big deal. You’re in politics now, beautiful girl. Let my mom help you figure it out, let your mom help you figure i
t out.”
“That’s just what I’m afraid of.” Aira shifted in his arms and sighed, and Aiden held her close, unable to stop smiling as they both dropped into an involuntary doze.
Jessica gave Aira a long list of suggested guests, and Aira turned her ire on Aiden—who didn’t know why Aira was “making such a big deal” of the dozen or so names.
“How many people do you want to have to feed?” Aira asked him, arms crossed over her chest, face a blaze of red frustration. “While we’re at it, we might as well do a ceremonial bedding—I mean, hey, you said it yourself: It’s a political wedding ceremony, I have no right to any privacy. We could let these dozens of people chase us into a bedroom and watch you screw me for the first time as my husband.”
Aiden’s face went from a deep red to nearly purple. “That’s not what I want and you know it!” he shouted back at her. “But you’ve known for weeks that you’d have to invite people you don’t even know. Stop taking it out on me.”
The fight escalated while Dylan watched, amused and exasperated. Finally, Aiden grabbed Aira by the shoulders—and the tension had crested between them, diverting from anger to lust as it so readily did. They disappeared up the stairs, and the next day, Aira pared down his mother’s list to six names.
CHAPTER SEVEN
DYLAN LOOKED OUT OVER THE crowd of wedding guests, smiling faintly to himself. It was finally done; Aiden and Aira were married. Aira had—kicking and digging in her heels, fighting every inch with that contentious spirit he admired—finally invited about half of the people that her parents and Dylan’s mother had insisted needed to receive the honor. It had been worthwhile for Dylan to watch the proceedings—to enjoy the amusement of Aira’s planning. Aiden had quickly learned that his opinions on the event were not, strictly speaking, necessary, as Aira repeatedly rejected the larger plans that Jessica and her own mother had for her wedding.
