Savage Legacy

by Lora Leigh

  “I never was into a dead fuck, baby, so I think I’ll keep you alive,” he retorted sarcastically as he moved back from her, though his hand wrapped around her wrist like a living manacle.

  Stooping, he retrieved her sword from the ground before staring around them with narrowed eyes.

  Only then did she notice the small communications device at his ear. It was small, almost undetectable. He tilted his head slightly as though listening to the voice on the other end.

  “This way.”

  She gasped as he gripped her wrist and began to pull her along behind him.

  “Are you crazy?” she hissed, raising her voice to be heard above the storm. She could smell the enemy at her back, feel the wind pushing her along with the barbarian.

  “I might be,” he called back. A flash of a smile, his gaze dark as his pace picked up. “The cycles are just below on the interstate. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  She could hear them now. Voices raised in the dark, the demons intent on spilling her blood.

  “Joshua, Derek, cover our fucking asses,” he called out then, his voice furious as he pulled her along. “We have a whole pack following here.”

  Her breath caught in her throat. She could hear the rage vibrating in the sound of his voice as the voices drew closer. Curses. Demands. The cry for blood echoed on the wind around her.

  “Maybe you should have been more concerned with fighting than pinning me against a tree,” she snapped furiously, fighting to keep up with him.

  “Not near as much fun,” he laughed back at her. “Move those long legs of yours, woman, or Jonar’s warriors will have Wind Mistress’ ass for dinner.”

  He was crazy. Crazier than her father could have ever imagined she was.

  She raced behind him, not that she had a choice the way he was pulling her along with him. Before her was the clean scent of freedom, behind her, the smell of death.

  They would be cut in two. The wretched stench that followed them was thickening, massing. There would be more than they could fight.

  “Son of a bitch, they’re getting too close.” His expression was savage in the brilliant arcs of lightning flaring around them as he glanced behind. “Call to the wind, Ariel,” he demanded forcefully. “Delay them now!”

  Shock resounded through her. What the hell was he talking about?

  The wind whipped around them, growing in force as though preparing itself…for what?

  “Do it, Ariel!” He screamed back at her again as the winds moaned around them more forcefully than before. “Call the wind to your aid.”

  “Are you insane!” she screamed back. “Kiss them, maybe that would stop them,” she snarled furiously a second later.

  “Do I look insane?” he yelled imperatively, glancing behind him a second before a wide smile flashed across his face. “Forget I said that. Just call the winds, dammit, or you may never know another kiss.”

  She had a feeling he wasn’t crazy, no matter how he looked, or acted. She could feel a demand rising inside her, the crystal calling out to her as the weak violet aura began to pulse around them. She fought to keep up with his longer stride, running as fast as her weary body would allow, feeling the wind at her back. If only it were pushing the enemy back rather than pushing her forward.

  “Command it!” he screamed imperiously, something he saw behind them reflecting in the fury of his dark expression.

  Knowing she shouldn’t. Knowing she didn’t really want to see, Ariel looked back at well.

  Demons’ eyes, dozens of them reflected in the inky darkness behind them. Glowing red, fiery hot and moving closer.

  “Oh God! Oh God!” the prayer was on her lips as the winds swirled around her again.

  “Ariel, command those fucking winds before we both die.” The impossibly commanding male was lashing out in fury as his pace suddenly increased. Ariel knew there was no way she could keep up. She would get them both killed.

  How did she do this? How did she command the winds?

  The swirl of forces gathered in strength.

  “Push them back!” She screamed out the command as the crystal blazed in heat, as demanding as the man pulling her along. “I command you to push back my enemies…”

  The winds screamed, they howled. Like demons from the pits of hell, reluctant to tear themselves from her, furious with the need to do so, the sound rose in volume, a crescendo of fury as it suddenly whipped around her, behind her.

  There was no breeze before them, but she could feel its power at her back as they broke the edge of the forests and ran for the nearly deserted interstate below. At first, she knew nothing but the darkness as the winds, lightning and rain stayed concentrated at her back. Then, slowly, other shapes began to emerge. The presence of two others running from the tree line on each side of them, the large black motorcycles below and the figures revving each of them into throbbing life before jumping on their own.

  “Get on!” He threw a leg over the nearest crotch rocket as she preferred to call the ultra-fast, streamlined ZX10 motorcycles. They were big, sexy machines, designed for speed and maneuverability.

  Gripping his shoulders she threw her leg over the back, crowding in close and gripping his waist as he lay along the front rest and kicked it into gear. She wanted to scream in exhilaration as the machine powered away, closely following the lead cycles. She could feel the wind at her back once again, pushing them along, adding to the aerodynamic effect of the powerful beast between her thighs.

  The night zoomed by alongside them as she felt the horsepower increasing beneath her body, throbbing, purring as it was kicked into top speed as it was meant to be. Rocketing through the night, pushed by an unnatural wind, held in place by the strength of the man before her and guided to safety. Finally, safety.

  Chapter Four

  Long minutes or hours later, Ariel wasn’t certain which, the cycles came to a terrifying, sliding stop, the wind swirling around them, whipping past her ears with the triumphant laughter of the man in front of her.

  He was as wild as the wind itself. His laughter filled with excitement, pleasure, the thrill of the chase and that of the fight. Before she could do more than gasp, he turned to her, pulled her across his lap and lowered his head for a kiss that stole her breath. His tongue pushed demandingly past her lips, sweeping along hers with a carnal passion that had every nerve ending in her body flaming in riotous response.

  She stiffened in his arms, would have fought him. She wanted to fight him, and yet she didn’t. The contradictory impulses confused her, kept her still, kept her searching for a reason why she wasn’t trying to rip his face off for his sheer nerve. Flashing memories of other kisses, other touches, laughter in battle and in bed flitted through her mind. She belonged to him.

  Her hands gripped his shoulders as his hand splayed just beneath her breast, close to the crystal that now lay silent. His hand was warm through the chilled dampness of her clothing, his body raging with lust if the erection pressed to her side was anything to go by.

  “You were incredible,” he breathed against her lips as he came up for air. “Absolutely incredible.”

  Ariel blinked up at him in shock as he stared down at her, a smile creasing his face, his eyes dark as he watched her.

  “Thank you. I think.” She eased herself up, watching him warily now. “Where are we?”

  “Outside Lexington, near the airport.”

  She looked around, avoiding the gazes of the others watching them as she recognized the area.

  “Did we lose them?” She watched a few passing cars suspiciously.

  “For now.” He shrugged, his rough voice still vibrating with arousal. “We’ll take a room for the rest of the night and plan out what we do from here. We need to get you warm and dry. I don’t want you picking up pneumonia again.”

  She glanced at him in surprise. What the hell was going on here?

  “Who are you?” she snapped, more angry at herself for her position now than she was at him.
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  She moved to struggle from his lap and the hard length of his erection pressing into her. She needed to think, to figure out what was going on. It was impossible to do so while his cock was pressing so thick and hard against her.

  “Get back behind me,” he finally commanded her, as though command came naturally to him. “We’ve only a short distance to go to the motel and we can talk there.”

  “Where’s my sword?” She ignored the order.

  She checked the sheath at the small of her back for her dagger, thankfully it was still there.

  “I have your sword, babe,” he murmured, the innuendo not exactly lost on her though as he shifted her behind him again before pointing to the sheath at his back. The one that carried his sword, as well as hers.

  “That’s good to know,” she replied mockingly.

  “I thought it might bring you comfort,” he chuckled as she settled in behind him. “Let’s go, the commander’s getting testy. He doesn’t like getting wet.”

  He nodded to the silent couple ahead of them who watched them with penetrating, too intent gazes.

  “He can join the crowd,” she muttered, gripping his waist as he leaned over the motorcycle’s chest pad once again.

  The cycle shot off, just as it had before, in the center of the strange procession that made their way to the motel on a deserted stretch of interstate. It wasn’t long before they pulled into the motel parking lot and cut the engines, everyone dismounting wearily.

  “Kanna has our rooms.” The dark, faintly accented voice of the one who had been pointed out as the commander struck her senses with its familiarity. “She has food waiting too. Thank God.”

  She could hear the weariness in his voice, a weariness that the man who stood beside her obviously didn’t feel.

  “You’re getting old, Devlin,” her rescuer chuckled. “Or lazy.”

  “Probably both.” Devlin snorted, his arm curling around the much smaller woman at his side.

  The woman watched Ariel closely, too intently for comfort.

  “Let’s find our dinner and our beds for now. We’ll meet in the morning to decide where we go from here.”

  “Come on.” A large hand at the small of her back propelled her forward.

  “Stop pushing at me,” she hissed, becoming aware of the fact that since the moment she had met him in the earlier storm he had either been yanking her forward or kissing her senseless.

  “Move a bit faster and I wouldn’t have to. God gave you those long legs for more than wrapping around a man’s waist, sweetness,” he told her, his voice thick with amusement.

  “You’re dangerous to be around,” she told him fiercely. “I should be running from you, not with you.”

  “There’s no escaping this, Ariel, and I know it’s in your mind to try. I don’t intend to allow that to happen.” His voice hardened, purpose filling it.

  She glanced up at him, for the first time getting a clear look at his face from the lights outside the motel. His features were harsh, his eyes swirling with myriad shades of gray, rather like an intense, building storm. Long, tawny gold hair fell past his shoulders and he was massive muscle. From his neck to his ankles, the man was built like a mountain.

  At over five-foot-ten, Ariel had often felt too tall, too gangly. But he made her feel feminine, petite, and that just pissed her off. She had gone twenty-six years without that feeling; she sure as hell didn’t need it now.

  As they moved through the back lobby doors and then to the elevators, she watched the men gathered around her warily. There was something about them, something otherworldly and too powerful to be entirely comfortable. They reminded her a bit of Alyx, Lynn Carstairs’ lover. He wasn’t natural in any human way except perhaps looks. These men had that same dangerous, alien aura.

  To be truthful, Alyx was very alien, as Lynn had confided to her before Ariel had more or less fired the group. Too alien. Alien, as in not born on Earth. That knowledge still had the power to shock and amaze her.

  The woman sheltered beneath the commander’s arm was different, though. Petite, obviously tired, but not weak. She had a bearing of strength, of comfort, which reached out to Ariel, though she wasn’t certain why.

  Her long, white-blonde hair framed a petite, drowsy expression. And if Ariel thought she was watching the other woman closely, then it was no closer than the woman watched her. A light curl to her lips indicated amused indulgence, and emerald eyes glinted with affection. An affection that seeped into Ariel’s consciousness as well. Which made no sense at all.

  “Your rooms are ready.” Ariel jumped in surprise as the elevator doors opened and the small, brown-haired woman faced them commandingly. “Follow me. I’ve stocked them accordingly and you should have every thing you need.” She stopped a few feet up the hall, waving to the opened doors on each side of the hall. “I’m in the last room. Just let me know if you need anything.”

  Ariel watched in surprise as each man headed to a different room.

  “Come on, slowpoke, I’m starved.” That hand pushed at her back once again.

  “Imbecile,” she muttered as he herded her into one of the nearest rooms and sighed in relief as he closed and locked the door behind them.

  “That was Kanna.” He nodded to the door, indicating the woman who had met them. “You’ll see her again in the morning. The blonde was Chantel, the warrior with her, Devlin…”

  “Warrior?” She lifted a brow mockingly as she entered the small suite, staring around the room and wondering how in the hell she was supposed to maneuver herself out of whatever trouble she had managed to get into this time.

  “Warrior.” He nodded agreeably, flashing a smile of male satisfaction. “Oh good, the food’s still hot.”

  Before she could protest, he stepped into the bathroom, leaving the door wide.

  Ariel blinked as she heard the faucet running, watching the doorway until he walked out, drying his hands and face with a hand towel.

  “Go ahead and get cleaned up and we’ll eat.”

  “Who the hell are you?” she asked him with what she considered a quite calm demeanor.

  Another of those smiles. A flash of white teeth, a curve of male satisfaction, the darkening of those unusual gray eyes.

  “Shanar, but you can call me Shane.” He watched her expectantly, the harsh features of his face somehow gentled by the incredible warmth of eyes that should have appeared cool.

  “Shanar…who?” She pursed her lips and barely refrained from rolling her eyes. Was he being deliberately obtuse or had he just been born so arrogantly male? She ignored the flash of familiarity, the feeling that she should remember him.

  “Steele.” The smooth rumble of his voice as he said the word sent shivers down her spine. “Shanar Steele. Now get washed up, I’m damned hungry and it’s been a lot of years since I’ve had KFC in front of me. I might not wait on you.”

  Savage… Ariel stilled as the lightest of breezes danced around her, the whisper of it creating a surge of warmth at her ear as the single word had her swallowing tightly.

  No one else had ever heard the whispers in the breeze. She had grown used to hiding her reaction to them as best she could. But they were growing more frequent, more intent than before. Her father had suspected it, often aware when the voices teased at her ears. When she refused to admit to it, refused to tell him what she heard, he punished her.

  She forced away the memories of the darkness closing in on her, stealing her breath and her mind. It was over, years in the past, she told herself. Her father hadn’t driven her to madness, nor had he yet managed to convince anyone that she was crazy as he had convinced the judges that her mother and grandmother were. She was safe from him. Allowing those memories to affect her now would serve no purpose at all.

  “Get cleaned up, Ariel. We’ll talk after we eat.” His fingers went to the buttons of his shirt, releasing them slowly. “Or you can watch me change into something drier…” he finally suggested, his voice lowering until it nearly g
rated from his chest.

  She jerked to attention as the strong, broad expanse of his deeply tanned chest began to come into view. That put her into motion as nothing else could have. Damn him, he was distracting enough dressed and mocking, she didn’t need him naked and sensual to reinforce the knowledge that this man was a weakness she could ill-afford.

  She moved quickly to the bathroom, but unlike him she slammed the door closed behind her and locked it like the coward she knew she was being.

  Breathing roughly, she closed her eyes as the scent of him, stronger here than it was outside, wrapped around her. It was intoxicating, weakening. She hated her ability to both hear and smell things that no one else seemed able to detect. In this case, she didn’t know if she should regret it or not. The aroma was dark, like the storm, clean and fresh with just a hint of heat. Male heat. Arousal.

  She bit her lip as that particular scent sent her own hormones into overdrive. Her breasts swelled in response to it, her nipples beading tightly beneath her damp shirt.

  “I have a clean gown and robe for you out here,” he called through the door. “Kanna just brought it.”

  He knocked on the door then. “Open the door, Ariel. You can’t eat or sleep in those wet clothes.”

  Turning, she laid her forehead against the smooth metal before she unlocked it with a sigh and stepped back to open it a few narrow inches.

  The material was thrust into the room. A long gown, robe and a pair of soft, thickly padded socks. She jerked them from his hands as a shiver worked over her, reminding her that she was indeed still dressed in wet clothes.

  “Go ahead and shower if you like,” he told her as she closed the door quickly. “I’m sure I can hold off on all this chicken long enough for that.”

  His voice shouldn’t sound so gentle, she thought, not as deep and as rough as it was; it should be frightening, nightmarish. It shouldn’t bring fractured memories of heated sighs and lust-filled caresses.

  Ten minutes later, warm from the shower and wrapped in the cotton comfort of the plain white gown and robe, she stepped hesitantly from the bathroom, her gaze seeking and finding him as she prepared herself for a fight. She could feel the heat, the arousal and lust that emanated from him. She could see it.