Night of Fire

by Vonna Harper

  “Liar! Infidel!”

  Now what, smart ass? he asked himself as the wrestlers separated and stalked closer. Not thinking, he rammed his hands in his pockets. His fingers closed around Paul’s lighter and he withdrew it.

  “Do you see this?” he demanded as he held it up. “This is my proof.”

  One of the soldiers laughed. The priests didn’t look impressed.

  “Like me, it is from the future,” he insisted. “Magic. Powerful magic.”

  “Kill him too,” one of the priests said.

  “No!” Maia slid around him. “This is not his concern. He does not care—”

  No time like the present, he thought and flicked the lighter. Nothing happened. He flicked it again. A white red flame shot up nearly four inches. Thank you, Paul. You always had to have the biggest, baddest toy on the block, didn’t you?

  For a few seconds no one spoke. Hell, no one so much as moved. And no two ways about it, he was the center of attention. He felt stronger than he had in his entire life.

  “See this.” He held the lighter high enough for everyone to see and then let it go out. “In my time, everyone carries fire in their hands. They can make it go to sleep the way I’ve just done. But because they are all powerful, because they believe in Bel-fire, it is nothing to bring fire to life.” He flicked, and to his relief, the flame ignited again. This time he kept it going.

  “What do you think of that?” he demanded of the priests. “Nothing like a little magical flame to make your babble about infidels and the master of the universe sound like crap.”

  He wasn’t sure what kind of response that would elicit. Hell, he hadn’t thought past doing whatever it took to keep those knives away from Maia and the baby—his baby. He should have.

  Something that might be a prayer spewed out of the short priest’s mouth. Gripping the cross he wore, he stalked toward Maia. As he did, the wrestler-soldiers backed up. Obviously Paul’s lighter intimidated them. So much for a well-trained army.

  “I am the voice of the lord and master,” the priest insisted. “I speak the truth, only me. And I say the devil must be destroyed.” He whirled on the soldiers. “Obey me! Obey! Kill the devil’s spawn.”

  Deciding that the armed soldiers constituted more of a threat than the crazy man in dirty, flowing robes, Taron kept the still-burning lighter aimed at the military force. Still feeling all-potent, he took his gaze off the priest for only a second.

  Screaming, the man launched himself at Maia. An elbow caught her under her chin and knocked her backward. She staggered but didn’t fall. The priest’s thick-knuckled fingers closed around her dagger.

  “Maia!”

  From what he could tell, the blow had stunned Maia. She tried to pull the priest’s hands off her, but she wasn’t having much success. The priest leaned back and punched her, hard, in the stomach.

  Taron’s world turned red, fury and fear filled him. “Damn you!” he bellowed.

  The soldiers were again focusing on their weapons. Any moment now they might lose their awe of the lighter and attack in mass. For maybe a second the priest looked indecisive. Then he yanked the dagger out of its sheath.

  “No!” Taron bellowed. He started forward.

  Quicker than Taron could believe, the priest lifted the dagger so that the gentle firelight glinted off the red jewel. Then he plunged it into Maia’s side.

  “No!” Taron yelled, he felt sick.

  Struggling not to be undone by the blood already soaking Maia’s garment, Taron closed the remaining space between himself and the loudly chanting priest and shoved the lighter against the bastard.

  The man’s robe instantly burst into flames. He gaped at Taron then began beating frantically at himself. The flames grew and, screaming, he ran at the soldiers.

  “Save me! Save me!” he begged.

  Taking advantage of the confusion, Taron scooped Maia up in his arms and ran.

  Chapter Ten

  Being stabbed did strange things to her body. No matter how hard she tried to make sense of what damage the dagger had inflicted, Maia’s mind refused to focus. Some of it, she knew, came from loss of blood, but she kept thinking about how wonderful it felt to be in Taurus’ strong, protective arms and that stopped her from concentrating on anything else.

  He was breathing like a horse at the end of a race, and his body, like hers, was drenched in sweat. His heartbeat felt quick and desperate. He hadn’t run all that long, but neither did he show any sign that he was ready to stop.

  That was fine with her, wonderful in fact. Why she felt like that didn’t matter.

  She closed her eyes but opened them again when that conjured up an image of the priest with his robe ablaze. The man had stabbed her and tried to kill Taurus’ child, she could hate him, couldn’t she?

  Taurus hadn’t wanted the baby, had called her a liar…

  He staggered and nearly dropped her. Jarred out of her semiconscious state, she lifted her head off his chest.

  “Taurus, put me down.”

  “Thank god! You’re—I thought—are you all right?”

  She wasn’t, but as her memories of the horrible things he’d said to her became clearer, she couldn’t think about that.

  “Put me down,” she repeated, more forcefully this time.

  He did so, reluctantly it seemed. She tried to stand, but her legs wouldn’t hold her. If he hadn’t eased her to the ground, she would have collapsed.

  “You’ve lost so much blood,” he whispered. Although she tried to brush his hand away, she soon gave up and let him pull up on her gown and look at her side.

  “Damn,” he cursed. “That crazy old fool—look, I’ve got to get you into the present right now. What do we have to do, run under a fire arch?”

  “The present?” She couldn’t make him come into focus.

  “My time. I have to get you to a doctor.” He sounded on the brink of panic.

  “No.” Her side burned, but the pain wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. “My belly? The dagger did not penetrate it?”

  “No.”

  Relief flooded her. “My baby is safe. That is all that matters.”

  He didn’t say anything. “The dagger is blessed, its origins and future beyond comprehension,” she told him. “It is given to those who need it. Such a gift would not destroy life.”

  “It’s going to kill you unless I get you some help.” He’d been kneeling beside her, his hand on her shoulder. Now he ran the back of his hand over her cheek. “Maia, it’s just a knife, that’s all it is.”

  “No.”

  “Yes. Damn you, I know where your thinking is going. You’re content to stay here and wait—for something. Black magic or some damn thing.” He slipped his hand between her legs. “We had something—something mind-blowing going between us. I’m not going to let it end.”

  She felt his hand on her pussy, and yet she didn’t. Her mind held remnants of climaxes so intense that the drums of Bel-fire paled in comparison, but those body eruptions lasted only a little while. What would be part of her for as long as she lived was her role in the clan—and the role her child would play in Bel-fire’s future.

  “It is over,” she whispered. “You and I do not matter. Only this place and time, my people do.”

  “No! Damn it, Maia, you didn’t need to risk your life just as you didn’t have to seduce me the way—”

  “Go!” She weakly swatted at his hand and tried to pull her legs together. “I do not need you anymore. Your job is finished.”

  He didn’t say anything, and in the silence she wondered if she was dying—not from the wound, although that was possible—but because of what she’d just told him. His fingers continued to rest against her labial lips, causing her to heat and moisten inside, but that wasn’t enough. He’d provided the seed-maker that her baby-place had needed. Now he could go, return to his place, be safe.

  “I do not want you,” she whispered. “You had my virginity. Is that not enough?”

 
; “You don’t want me?”

  I don’t know, I can’t think. And I’m afraid for you. “Go to The Lady. She will show you how to return to your time.”

  “I’m going only if I can take you with me.”

  “No!” she exclaimed and tried to sit up. “No! I do not want…” I cannot leave those who need me. She needed to tell him that, didn’t she? Desperate to find the answer, she blinked repeatedly, but his features remained blurred. She felt herself being sucked into a deep hole. The last thing she knew was his fingers caressing her pussy.

  * * * * *

  Taron had tied his shirt around Maia’s wound with shaking fingers and was trying to take her pulse when he heard approaching footsteps. He jumped to his feet, positioning himself between her and the unknown intruders. If only he really was a bull, anything except a shirt-and-tie, helpless-as-hell businessman. He still had Paul’s cigarette lighter but wasn’t sure he could chase off anyone with it. A branch-turned-spear or handful of rocks might delay the inevitable.

  “Maia, Taurus, it is us.”

  The voice of The Lady was a relief. At the same time he was leery of her reasons for wanting to find Maia. Not only that, she wasn’t alone. Silent, he waited for the newcomers to come into view. The Lady, naked as the day she was born but with her long, flowing hair covering her breasts, was on horseback as were the three old men.

  They stopped as one when they spotted him and Maia. After giving him a cursory glance, they focused on Maia. Finally The Lady dismounted and approached. He had to hand it to her. For a woman who looked to be in her fifties, she was a fine figure indeed, lean muscle under the slightly sagging skin, and pride in the way she carried herself. He wondered if Maia would have that same bearing and self-confidence when she was that age—if she lived that long.

  “She is alive,” The Lady said. It wasn’t a question. “Taurus, thank you.”

  No longer concerned with correcting anyone about his name, he nodded. “She’s lost a lot of blood,” he said. “What about those damn priests and their puppet soldiers? Where are they? What about the one I torched?”

  One of the old men grunted. “The priest tore off his robe, all could see his reddened shoulders and arms. His hair is burned, it stinks. The last we saw, he was standing naked with his white belly hanging down over his man-thing.”

  It struck Taron that the old man hadn’t said seed-maker, maybe because the priest had no value in that department. The Lady dropped to her knees beside Maia and placed the back of her hand over Maia’s nose. “Yes, she breathes,” she said softly. “Taurus, again we thank you.”

  “Someone had to do something,” he snapped. “Everyone else was standing around with their hands in their pockets.”

  No one said anything.

  “I don’t want some witch doctor or whatever you people have caring for her. I’ve got to get her to a full-service hospital, pronto.”

  “Hospital?”

  Shit. They weren’t going to waste time playing word games, not with Maia’s life at stake.

  “Look.” He grabbed The Lady’s shoulders and hauled her to her feet. Too late he realized that put him face-to-face with a buck-naked woman. His cock paid no mind. “Maia said you know how this time-travel stuff works. Whatever you have to do, do it! I’m getting her to an emergency room, damn it!”

  “That place is not what she needs.”

  “What are you, a trauma specialist? Never mind. We both know the answer to that. What’s the mortality rate around here? I can guarantee it’s a hell of a lot higher than where I intend to take her.” If I can figure out how to get there. “You want her to live, don’t you?”

  “She will.”

  The Lady’s calm and certain tone distracted him, he almost believed her. He sure as hell wanted to, but when he heard approaching footsteps, he dug into his pocket for the lighter. Why didn’t any of these people carry weapons?

  “Do not be afraid,” The Lady told him. “Her family knows what must be done.”

  “What? Leeches? Don’t get anywhere near her with something like that. You so much as try and I swear…” What, you idiot? Run off the whole village with a Bic?

  He didn’t know what to make of the ragtag bunch coming their way. It was light enough now that he saw everything from a baby in arms to a woman who had at least one foot in the grave. There were maybe twenty of them. Except for the young woman carrying the baby, they all had an armload of firewood. To his dismay, they piled the wood around Maia. He would have stopped them except—except what?

  “Where is your fire-maker?” The Lady asked. “Light the one closest to her head.”

  “The hell I will!” Shit, where was Rambo when he needed him? “Don’t you get it? She’s—she might be dying.”

  “She is,” The Lady said, causing his heart to skip. “But spring’s flames will save her and the child.”

  He opened his mouth but nothing came out. There wasn’t anything remotely frightening about these people. Quite the contrary, their expressions were universally gentle—almost as if they felt sorry for him. There was something about their presence that gave him a sense of peace, When had he last felt that?

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “There is not time to explain it all, Taurus,” The Lady told him. “This is Bel-fire, the time to celebrate the land and the life that springs from it. During the moons of winter, seeds have lain dormant. No newborn animals suckle at their mothers’ breasts. It is as it must be, the world rests. But with our celebration, we awaken the souls of those seeds. They know that our need for them is great. The souls of all living things come together in the flames of Bel-fire. They will see Maia and give her their energy, their life.”

  Any other time he would have retorted that that was the biggest bunch of bull he’d ever heard, but he didn’t. For the life of him he couldn’t say why. Maybe it was nothing more than the older woman’s soft, sincere tone. Maybe the way everyone nodded agreement had something to do with it.

  Possibly—probably—the utter and complete faith in everyone’s eyes had seduced him. Feeling as if he’d lost all control when he was accustomed to exactly the opposite, he walked over to the pile of brush closest to Maia’s head and lit it. Once the flames took hold, The Lady pulled out a burning branch and used it to light the other piles. It was now dawn and yet the flames provided enough of a contrast that they painted her naked flesh in bright red. When he looked at the others, he saw that the same thing had happened to them.

  Then he looked down at Maia and forgot everything else. Her features were paler than the villagers, almost white. Weak, he dropped to his knees and used his thighs as a pillow for her head. His cock stirred.

  I don’t know where you are, he told her. Or whether you can hear me. I want you to know I’d do anything to get you to a hospital, but I can’t find the way. If you’re aware of what’s happening here, I need you to come back so you can explain.

  That sounded selfish, a piss-poor reason for her to fight for life.

  There’s a lot that’s unsettled between us, he continued. We had something—something mind-blowing going. Do you know that? Look, I don’t have the statistics, there probably aren’t any. But almost no virgins climax the first time, I’m sure of that.

  “Sure you are,” he muttered. “What’d you do, take a survey?”

  You came, he told her. That’s proof that you’re one sexy broad, and I’m one hell of a stud. Can you imagine what would happen if we were given half a chance? We’d never get out of bed. We’d probably kill ourselves, but what a way to go.

  That was all wrong! He shouldn’t be begging Maia to live so he could fuck her senseless. No matter how appealing that sounded, there was still the matter of the crazy priests and their mindless soldiers. But first—first Maia had to live.

  Unable to think beyond that, he cupped his hands around her breasts and began fingering them. Her nipples hardened, but she gave no other sign that she was aware of his presence—his touch.

&nbs
p; All around him the flames danced with the rising sun. Drums began playing.

  Chapter Eleven

  Taron figured he must have dozed off because suddenly The Lady was beside him. Instead of explaining what she was doing, she slipped something into Maia’s hand, kissed her on the forehead and then walked away. When he blinked and looked around, he saw that the villagers were leaving. The fires would soon be down to coals.

  A soft, unexpected sound made him start, but when he realized it was coming from Maia, he relaxed. The priests and their henchmen couldn’t hurt her—at least not right now.

  “What is it?” he whispered. “Are you in pain?”

  She opened her eyes but seemed to be having trouble focusing. Finally, her attention locked on him.

  “Why are you here?” she asked. She sounded strangled.

  He didn’t answer because the truth was, he didn’t know—either that or he wasn’t ready to confess all. As the survivor of more one-night stands than he cared to remember, he knew how to end things with a kiss and a closed door. When her stare intensified, he drew her attention to the dagger The Lady had returned to her.

  “I don’t know how they recovered it,” he told her. “Probably the priest dropped it, and someone found it.”

  She held it up so she could study it. Her movement was a simple one, nothing nearly every human being on the planet couldn’t do without thinking about it, but it thrilled him. Maybe the worst was over and she was going to live. Did the fires and drumming and songs have anything to do with it? Maybe his insistent finger-play while she’d been unconscious had turned the tide.

  “Do you remember what happened?” he asked because he didn’t feel strong enough to face the questions he’d just asked himself. “That priest—”

  “My blood is no longer on the blade.”

  She did remember. “No, it isn’t. Someone must have cleaned it off. Are—are you sure you want it around? It’s going to remind you—”

  “Why are you still here?”

  She was lying near him, her blood-stained grown just barely covering her crotch, but if she was aware of that, she didn’t let it show. She might not have the strength to sit up, but there was no ignoring the fire in her eyes.