Night of Fire

by Vonna Harper

  “You’re a hell of a one to talk. At the rate you’re going, your ticker will give out before you reach forty.”

  “Give me the damn lighter,” Taron interrupted.

  Paul stared at him then shrugged. “What the hell.” He dug into his pocket and handed Taron the expensive silver lighter. “Maybe it’ll work.”

  Taron had his doubts but tucked the lighter in his pocket anyway. “So tell me about this festival.”

  “Shit. Look, all I know is that Beltane takes place on April 30—something to do with celebrating spring. There’s dancing and drumming until you think the top of your head’s going to come off, but you don’t care. There’s some kind of play or something with people dressed in costumes. They paint their skin different colors and jump through fire. That’s where the animals come in.”

  “They’re roasted?” Taron didn’t like the idea of that cute little goat winding up on someone’s dinner plate.

  “Hell no. Like I said, farmers and anyone who feels like it brings their livestock near the smoke. Some kind of purification thing, I guess.”

  “Sounds like chaos. And you think I’d give a damn? Why?”

  Paul laughed and punched Taron on the shoulder. “Because it’s the night to get laid. It’s like the whole place turns into a huge orgy. People jump the nearest bones. I know, I know. You don’t have to look for excuses to have the broads fighting each other over the chance to rock and roll with you, but you’ve got to admit it sounds like a hell of a lot more fun than picking up some broad at a bar.”

  * * * * *

  Movement, noise, light and dark. Flames from the fire at the top of the hill seemed to dance with the night sky. What had to be thousands of people packed Carlton Hill, and so many musical groups were doing their thing that Taron felt as if his head might explode.

  Despite his better judgment, he’d agreed to accompany Paul in trekking up the steep staircase once it got dark. What he hadn’t counted on was the sheer mass of bodies he’d encounter. One moment Paul had yelled at him to look back down for a panoramic view of the city. The next, he’d lost his friend.

  He’d briefly thought about going back to Paul’s place, but that would mean fighting the tide of humanity surging upward. Besides, there was something about the music—especially the drums. The longer the frantic-sounding beats went on, the more his body seemed to absorb them.

  He had to get closer to the action.

  Using his size and strength, he pushed past knots of laughing, yelling merrymakers until he caught a glimpse of a group of brightly costumed people who were obviously the center of attention. Most noticeable was a tall woman dressed in veils of every color in the rainbow. In addition, she was weighed down by flowers and assorted greenery. She was surrounded by a number of women dressed entirely in white who looked for all the world as if they were protecting the rainbow woman. A man who was green from head to foot hung near Rainbow Woman. In contrast to the others’ exuberant dancing, he trudged along like an old man.

  “Hell if I know what that’s about,” Taron muttered.

  The group had been whirling to and fro in one spot, but now a number of Blue Men—Taron couldn’t think of anything else to call them—presented themselves to Rainbow Lady and her attendants.

  Suddenly the drumming kicked up a notch. Now the earth itself seemed responsible for the driving rhythm, it was almost as if lava were trying to break free. Barely aware of what he was doing, he swayed with the reverberation. Extending his arms, he stomped and whirled, grunted in time. His vision blurred, he no longer cared about the celebration, about tomorrow’s agenda or the rest of his life.

  He was—simply was part of the force and power.

  Wild, free, totally in the moment, he looked up. The night was clear, making it possible to see the stars. Stars? How long had it been since he’d studied the sky? Danced? Existed only in this single moment?

  No one seemed to notice his pounding, driving legs, no one cared that this sophisticated and wealthy businessman could barely catch his breath and had broken out in sweat. How could they when many of his fellow celebrants were under the same spell?

  A kink in his neck forced him to look down. The crowd had shifted, blocking his view of the performers. He started to look for a way to get closer and then…

  She was all in white, a single, nearly transparent layer of lace that shimmered over her ripe body. The gown, if it could be called that, was caught by a thin gold belt made from what looked like rope. Unless he was wrong, there was a knife or dagger attached to the belt.

  She stood apart from the others, a small island of stillness in a surging tide of humanity. Her hair was black and long and loose, trailing down her back. She was barefoot. Young.

  She smiled at him.

  Holy shit. If I’m going to die tonight, what a way to go.

  It didn’t seem possible, and yet she made her way to him without having to dodge bodies. It was almost as if she were a creek flowing effortlessly around all obstacles.

  When she stood a couple of feet from him, he took a deep breath, hoping to calm himself. She had large green eyes and smelled of lavender, and no two ways about it, that near cheesecloth she was wearing didn’t hide a thing. Her breasts weren’t particularly large but high and full and firm and luscious. She didn’t have much of a muff, what there was of it appeared as dark as her hair. Just like that, his cock stood at attention.

  She looked down at him as if appraising his equipment. “It is ready?” she asked in a smooth, lilting tone.

  He’d seen some easy lays in his life, but this was ridiculous. “You don’t mince words, do you?”

  “Mince words? I do not understand.”

  Now that he’d gotten over his initial surprise at being approached by a goddess, he took note of her formal-sounding speech. Besides, much as he wanted to, there was no ignoring the dagger. Whatever he did, he wasn’t going to piss the lady off.

  “Maybe we’d better back up here a bit,” he said. “If this is a come-on, I’m interested, but I believe in laying things out on the table with an armed woman.”

  “Back up? What table?”

  What was she, slow-witted? Drunk or on something? Ripe as she might be for the plucking, he’d never taken advantage of a woman. Despite the argument he was getting from his cock, he wasn’t going to change now.

  “Did you think I was someone else?” He had to nearly yell in order to make himself heard.

  “No, I know who you are.”

  Yeah, right. The only person he knew in Edinburgh was Paul. “Do you?”

  A large woman jostled the black-haired beauty, causing her to stumble. “You are Taurus,” she said as she righted herself.

  “Taurus? From the zodiac? You’ve got to be kid—what makes you think that?”

  “The Lady told me.”

  What lady? As Alice would say, things were getting curiouser and curiouser. However, unlike Alice, he wasn’t particularly interested in an explanation. Despite his all-but-legendary success with women, the truth was that his world didn’t revolve around the opposite sex. Like he’d told a few of his envious male acquaintances—except for Paul who’d grown up in foster homes himself, he didn’t really have what he could call friends—once you’ve humped a hundred women, it gets to be pretty much the same thing. Those acquaintances hadn’t agreed with him, but that’s how he felt.

  Until tonight.

  “I appreciate the compliment but—”

  She leaned forward and cocked her head. “I cannot hear you.”

  That he could remedy. Doing what he’d wanted to since he’d first spotted her, he draped his arm over her slender shoulder and drew her to his side. He’d expected her to be more substantial. Instead, she felt almost childlike. Shit! How old was she?

  “I said—” He spoke into her ear, fought the desire to take her hair between his teeth and nibble it, to trail his hand down to her breast and tease her nub into hardness. “No man objects to being compared to a bull, but if you�
�re looking for someone named Taurus, you’ve got the wrong man.”

  Either she hadn’t heard him, or she didn’t give a damn about his explanation. Because his wardrobe was sadly lacking in casual wear, he’d put on a pair of dress slacks today, expertly tailored to minimize his more-than-average-size cock since that was hardly what he wanted on display as part of his career. At least the camouflage worked when he didn’t have a hard-on.

  “I am not wrong,” she said. Now, despite the noise, he had no trouble hearing her. “I know who you are.” She turned so she was facing him. “You are ready for mating?”

  “What?”

  Before he could even guess that it was going to happen, she closed her small, warm hand over his straining cock. “Your seed-organ is ready.”

  “My…” How the hell was he supposed to think with her holding him like that?

  “We cannot do the joining here.”

  No argument there. They’d be crushed under the humanity. “You want to have sex? Just like that?”

  “Sex? Ah yes, I must remember what you would call it.”

  Eventually, maybe, he’d sort all this out. Right now, however, he had a dagger-armed, nearly naked, cock-grabbing broad to deal with. “One question before we take this any further.” Shit, did she have to handle his cock as if it were a slab of meat she was contemplating buying? “How old are you?”

  “Of age.”

  Whatever that meant. “In other words, I’m not going to get busted if we get it on?” What did he mean, if?

  “Busted? Get it on?”

  Unable to take any more of her enthusiastic and yet analytical groping, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her off him. “Sorry, lady. Much more of that and we’d have a spontaneous eruption right here and now.”

  “Spontaneous? I do not—”

  “Why did I know you were going to say that? Look…” He gathered himself to go on yelling then decided not to risk a lacerated vocal cord after all. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

  Chapter Three

  Here turned out to be the back side of Calton Hill. He could still hear the drums, still feel them vibrating in the night, but at least they were away from most of the crowd. Between the moon and firelight and occasional flashlights, he was able to spot a fair number of couples doing what came naturally in and about the volcanic rock base and low shrubs. No doubt about it, Paul had been right about Beltane being the night to get laid.

  The girl-woman hadn’t objected to coming here, and with her hip brushing against his with every step—he’d kept his arm around her so they wouldn’t get separated—he was close to not giving a damn how old she was, where she came from or whether she’d escaped from some mental ward. What had she told him, that she was of age? Hers was indeed a woman’s body. Ripe. Ready. And with the wind blowing her not-quite-a-dress against her breasts and hips, he easily placed her in the top one percent of her sex in the bod department. Sure as hell he’d never had his hand on someone like her, half sprite, half human.

  “Well, here we are,” he not-too-brilliantly announced when he’d found a relatively smooth spot behind a boulder.

  “This is a good place.” She ran her bare toes over some low-growing flowers. “The earth is fertile.”

  What’s that got to do with anything? “Speaking of fertile, I hope you’re on the Pill.”

  “Pill?”

  Shit. Here we go again. “Protection. I don’t need a paternity suit.”

  She was looking up at him, obviously content with their close proximity. He noted her long, slender neck, lips just begging to be crushed under his, slender arms and flaring hips. He also noted that she didn’t wear a speck of makeup. What modern woman on the prowl didn’t slather on war paint? But then who said she was modern? The thought made him a little uneasy.

  “Taurus, I have been sent to your time to find you, only you,” she said. “To take your seed into my body.”

  You’re not going to get any objections from me. “I’m—I’m glad to hear that. But I’m serious. I don’t want you getting pregnant.”

  He could swear her features became darker, older even, but that was probably just because it was night. For a moment she was absolutely still as if listening to someone he couldn’t see. Then she relaxed.

  “What happens tonight, I take full responsibility for. All I want from you is this.”

  He’d known she was going to take hold of his cock again. He could have backpeddled, but he didn’t. Instead, he simply stood there as still as she’d been earlier while she trailed her fingers over, around and under his bulge. The weird thing was, there was nothing crude about what she was doing. Rather, she handled his cock as if he were a prime piece of horseflesh she’d just bid on.

  “Lady, I don’t know what game you’re playing,” was the only damn thing in the world he could think to say.

  “I do not play games.” She’d taken hold of the tab on his zipper but didn’t seem to know what to do with it. “This night is destiny. You and I, we must mate.”

  Who could he tell about this? No one would believe him, and yet he couldn’t keep it to himself. “You aren’t part of this play or whatever it is, are you? Am I on Candid Camera?”

  “What is this?” She ran her nails over the zipper. He felt the vibration throughout his groin.

  “You don’t know—? Who the hell are you?”

  “Maia. Your mate,” she said. Then she rose up on tiptoe, pressed her mouth, her body against his, and he forgot how to talk. Needing more of her, he cupped his hands over her buttocks and pulled her hard and tight against him. Having his cock mashed inside his slacks was driving him crazy, and yet she felt so damn good. Ripe and lush and—oh hell, like something out of an adolescent fantasy.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and gently slid her body up and down his, rubbing her hard, young breasts against his chest. With every move, his chest and belly and groin became more heated. He grabbed a handful of whatever it was she wore, fascinated by the way it glided like water over her butt. She’d tipped her pelvis toward him.

  Now—hell, now she was massaging his arms, sides, hips. She was everywhere on him, her fingers both cool and warm, pressing into the small of his back before riding low on his hips, under his buttocks.

  Unable to take any more of that torture, he shoved her away just long enough to unfasten his slacks and free his cock. As soon as he exposed himself, she was all over him again. This time she came at his side. First she pulled down on his slacks until they were bunched around his ankles. Then she reached between his legs both fore and aft. Without so much as a by your leave, which of course he would have granted because he was no longer thinking, she probed until her fingers came together in his crotch. His snug briefs were in the way. He felt her fingers through the single layer, teasing his balls, moving them first one way and then the other. Over and over again she massaged and manipulated while he stood dumb and straddle-legged with one hand half around her neck.

  Shit! He was going to go off just like that.

  “Maia—that’s it, right? Maia? Do you know what the hell you’re doing?”

  “Y-es.”

  What did it matter? A heartbeat later he’d answered his own question. It mattered a lot.

  “Wait.” He sounded every bit as confident as he had the first time he’d stood at the top of a steep ski slope. “Wait. Not like this.”

  She took his testicles in one hand. The other was spread over the length of his cock. “You do not want…?”

  “I’d have to be six feet under not to want. But haven’t you heard of letting the man be the aggressor?”

  “You think I am aggressive? No, I am a maiden.”

  What you are is a nut case. “Look.” Despite the cost to his electrified nervous system, he hauled her off him and held her at arm’s length. God, but she was incredible! Nowhere close to civilized. “We’ve got all night. We don’t have to go at this as if we’re in rut.”

  She stared at her captured wrists but didn’t
try to break free. “Rut is sheep, cattle.”

  “And sometimes, humans. At least that’s the way we’re going at it. Tell me something. Are you from this planet?”

  “From this place, yes. But not of this time.”

  The man who The Lady said would call himself Taron stared at her for so long that Maia was afraid she’d said the wrong thing, but The Lady had told her to be honest when she approached Taurus. The Lady had also warned her that this man, her spirit-chosen mate, wouldn’t understand his role at first and might need guidance.

  But I have never been with a man, she had said. I cannot guide if I have never been there before.

  Trust, The Lady had said. Trust your body.

  She wanted to do that, she needed to. But all she knew was that when animals were ready to mate, they did so. She’d seen and heard her parents having sex but didn’t know what they did or said before her father shoved his seed-bearer into her mother’s baby-making place. They’d promised to tell her those things once she’d been spoken for, but then the priests and their armed soldiers had taken over the village and nothing else had mattered.

  With a mental shake of the head, Maia brought herself back to the here and now. The earth seemed to be rumbling. She knew what djembes, surdus, dharbukas, and shakers sounded like when they were played, but this soul-touching rhythm was different.

  Maybe Taurus was responsible.

  When she relaxed her fingers, he released her wrists but didn’t stop staring at her. His eyes heated her in a way that reminded her of the heat she’d felt between her legs when The Lady first told her about him. She hadn’t felt more than a twinge of shyness when The Lady had told her to disrobe and then put on this filmy gown, but Taurus was looking, not at but through it. Seeing her body.

  “What do you want?” she asked when his stare began to harden her nipples.

  “Maybe a keeper for you. No, not really. One last time. You really want to do this?”

  Of course she did, fertilizing the earth with their sex fluids was why she’d been sent here. And yet she couldn’t quite silence the part of her that wanted to remain a child. “You do not?”