Savage Legacy

by Lora Leigh

“You would be damned hard to forget, and her even harder,” he chuckled. “Watch your ass.”

  “I will watch her ass.” Shane’s smile grew brighter. “I have found it to be one of my greatest joys.”

  Ariel felt the flush that washed over her face as he cast her a heavy-lidded look filled with innuendo as she shrugged her jacket on over the light tank top she wore with her jeans.

  He chuckled at the reproving look she cast him before paying the tattoo artist and escorting her from the shop.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Maybe we should just go back to the room,” she said after they entered the warmth of the night, glancing at the bar regretfully. “I’d hate to get Devlin too pissed with you.”

  She had noticed the easy friendship he shared with his commander. The two men were more than just brothers in arms; at times they acted more like brothers—period. Actually, the whole group somehow gave that impression.

  He laughed lightly, curling his arm around her back as he led her to the bar.

  “Devlin doesn’t control me, Ariel,” he told her easily. “He’s my commander, not a puppet master.”

  She loved the confidence in his voice. There was no loud blustering, no exaggerated claims. Just easy strength and dedication.

  They stepped up to the wide porch that stretched across the front of the bar, the rough wood planks uneven beneath their feet. Years of neglect had created a harsh, weathered appearance that suited the atmosphere perfectly.

  As they entered the smoky interior Ariel was aware of the breeze that suddenly wrapped around her, as protective and enduring as Shane towering over her. The large hand now splayed against her lower back was a warm weight that added to the confidence filling her, the strength she could feel building within her.

  Voices lowered when they entered, curious stares following them as they made their way to the bar.

  “Two beers.” Shane leaned against the long smoothly polished bar as Ariel took a seat on one of the high barstools.

  She ignored the looks leveled her way from the men gathered in the room. She could feel a knowledge gathering within her, a sense of confidence, memories of training that she knew she hadn’t had in this lifetime.

  She wasn’t weak as she had once thought herself to be. She had been a fighter, a warrioress, a woman that men had feared at one time.

  She accepted the cold mug the bartender set in front of her; he was bear of a man with a braided beard and a tattoo of a skull and crossbones on his upper arm.

  “Drink up, wife,” Shane spoke at her ear, his voice a rough murmur of laughter that sent shivers of pleasure chasing up her spine.

  She lifted the mug to her lips, taking a long drink of the bitter brew as she remembered another time, a rougher, dangerous era and the taste of smooth, dark ale. And the same tensions prevailed then, as they did now. Ariel was aware of the thickening of it behind her, the way the air pressed in against her, surrounding her as though to insulate her from any danger there.

  “Should I be worried?” She glanced at him from the corner of her eyes as she murmured the question.

  From the long mirror behind the bar she could see the looks she was getting. One group in particular, a table of eight shaggy, unkempt miscreants watching her and Shane with an edge of resentment in their gazes.

  “Naw, nothing to worry about, love.” He grinned, though his expression was expectant. “I’ve got your back. Remember?”

  Ariel snorted at that as she turned back to her beer, watching the men from beneath her lashes through the mirror.

  They were gearing themselves up for trouble. She could see it in the way they moved, and if she wasn’t mistaken, they were carrying guns.

  She sighed in resignation.

  “You know, bullets are hard to duck past,” she pointed out conversationally. “And they have guns.”

  “Hmm, weren’t you the one bitching because your enemies weren’t using guns?” he asked softly, the laughter in his voice contagious.

  She should have been scared. She should have been running.

  She sighed instead. “If I was this reckless in my first life, it’s no wonder I ended up dead.”

  She tipped the mug back, finished her beer then watched as three of the men at the table she was watching rose to their feet. Danger whispered in the air around her. A breeze blew in from the opened doors, wrapping around her as though in protection. Between her breasts, the crystal heated with a surge of power that had her breath catching at the punch of energy her body seemed to take.

  What the hell was that?

  “You folks must be new around here.” Rasping and cruel, the voice had her glancing at Shane, and almost grinning at the anticipation in his face.

  They turned simultaneously, and Ariel barely restrained her grimace at the stench coming from the three.

  Instantly, air wavered before her, carrying the smell away from her.

  They were dirty, corrupt in mind and body, diseased in morality. Damn, she wished she had her sword.

  “And why would you think that?” Shane’s voice rumbled from beside her, filled with mockery, challenge.

  Ariel almost winced at the tone.

  Beady eyes narrowed on him.

  “We have a rule here,” the dirty little pig snapped then. “You want to drink in our bar, then you pay the price.”

  Shane dug several bills from his pocket and tossed them on the bar.

  “That should cover any damage,” he murmured to the wide-eyed bartender. “To the bar at any rate.”

  “That’s a good start.” The taller of the three leered at her while reaching between his thighs and gripping his parts there lewdly.

  Some things never changed, she thought in resignation.

  “The price is your woman,” the third sneered. “She’s a pretty little piece. And we’ve decided we’d like a taste of her.” He licked his fat lips in anticipation.

  Ariel let her eyes drift over the three men thoughtfully before she lifted a brow at them archly.

  “Bathe first,” she drawled. “Then we might discuss the matter.”

  Was that a groan she heard from Shane?

  “Ariel, shame on you,” he teased her then. “These are our hosts. You should use your manners here.”

  She shot him a dark look.

  “I have to use my manners here? Why?”

  “They are our hosts.” He spread his hands to the three men as though to ask what he should do with her.

  “We’ll teach the bitch manners,” the piggish little man in the front snapped.

  Ariel frowned.

  “They aren’t using their manners. Why should I?” she pouted mockingly.

  She had obviously lost her own mind. This had to be on the same scale as baiting alligators. Actually, she bet baiting alligators was safer by far.

  Suddenly, she felt the air around her shift, thicken at her midriff a second before one smelly male wannabe aimed his fist at her stomach.

  “Whoa!” She jumped to the side just before the blow landed, staring back at him in shock. “That wasn’t nice.”

  He smiled, causing her stomach to turn with the sight of decayed, unbrushed teeth.

  “Bitch, you’ll be screaming for mercy by time we finish with you,” he snarled, advancing on her slowly.

  “Do you need help, honey?” Shane called out the question as he leaned back on the bar, watching her with darkening eyes.

  Need his help? She snorted at the thought. Memories of her training filled her, she knew how to fight, knew how to kill. Through this lifetime she had kept her body well-honed, her muscles in peak condition, somehow sensing she would one day need the strength. She was the woman she had been a thousand years before.

  “I should be done in a minute,” she grinned back at him carelessly. “You might want to get me another beer though…” She blocked the next blow a second before her knee came up, delivering a powerful punch to undefended balls at the same time her right arm cocked and flew forward to hopefully b
reak the already crooked nose in line for it.

  Blood spurted around her, dissipated by her unspoken command to the air around her.

  She could feel the crystal at her breast, her needs telegraphing to it before she had time to even focus them clearly within her thoughts. A hard breeze aided her opponent in his flight across a table, spilling beer and assorted drinks as the bikers jumped back, chairs scraping then flying across the floor as he landed at a heap on the other side.

  And then all hell broke loose.

  Ariel couldn’t believe herself, or the fight that resulted. Fists were flying, and suddenly Shane was at her back in the middle of the fray, his war cry echoing around them as her laughter spilled to the winds whipping through the room.

  A fist caught her in a sideways slug to the mouth, busting her lip and sending her anger boiling.

  “Bastard!” She turned on the assailant but Shane had him in his grip instead, shaking the tubby little man like a pup before tossing him across the room.

  “Have you had enough yet, wife?” he called out to her as he picked her up with one hand, sweeping her to his chest as his strong arm blocked the chair heading for her back.

  Jumping from his embrace, her fist plowed into the man’s face as the winds followed her aim and threw him backward along the congested floor. Yelps and screams of rage were echoing through the room, to be joined by the sudden discordant sound of police sirens.

  “Uh-oh.” She laughed back at her warrior as the winds screamed around her. “Time to go?”

  “Time to go.” He grabbed her hand, his fist swinging out at the bruiser standing in his way, sending him staggering backward with the force of the blow.

  They made it outside the door, laughing, running. Ducking behind the tattoo shop, they waited until the police cruisers sped past and came to a squealing stop outside the bar.

  Adrenaline pounded in her veins; excitement, the heady rush of danger and triumph sensitized her heightened nerve endings. She was alive, more alive than she had ever been in her life.

  “You two are as wild as you ever were.”

  In tandem, she and Shane both turned, crouched to fight, the fury of the fight still upon them as they faced the Wizard who had managed to come up behind them.

  “Life is for living, Derek,” Shane laughed as he straightened, pulling Ariel to his side in a swift, hard hug. “It was merely a bit of exercise.”

  Derek grunted, his gaze seeking Ariel’s then.

  “We’re riding back out immediately,” he reported.

  “Why?” Ariel felt Shane tense, but suddenly, she knew why. The winds whispered the knowledge to her, caressing her ears, her hair as she heard it.

  “Caitlin called to you,” she said softly.

  Derek inclined his head subtly. “She did,” he answered coolly. “A challenge I believe.”

  I await you, Wizard. Catch me if you can before the Wizard’s Tears are mine once again…

  Ariel wanted to roll her eyes at the words that lingered on the air around them. Caitlin hadn’t been prone to melodrama, unless she was pissed. She must really be pissed.

  “What did you do to her?” Ariel drawled mockingly.

  He cleared his throat, glancing away, but not before Ariel caught the almost hidden quirk of his lips.

  “I’m the Wizard.” He shrugged. “I deal in illusion, in magic if you will. Shall we say, I may have brought her a vision.”

  “Oh hell…” Ariel lowered her head, shaking it slowly as she suddenly remembered the Wizard’s ability to mess with minds, both on a large and small scale. “Didn’t you learn your lesson the first time?”

  “Of course I did.” He acted too surprised, and much too innocent. “I didn’t steal her mind, Ariel, I merely caressed it a bit. Quite a little bit…”

  “Great,” Shane snarled suddenly as he pushed past the other man. “You diddle with a furious wife and ruin my plans for the night. Remind me, Derek, to repay you in kind at my first opportunity.”

  Ariel snickered, but there was little else she could do as she was being dragged behind Shane. Back to the motorcycles, another ride, another communion with the winds, and none of the hot, heated sex she was determined would soon, very soon, be hers.

  Chapter Eighteen

  His control was next to nothing, and Shanar knew it. When they arrived at one of the little towns just off the highway that Devlin had chosen later that morning, he was a throbbing mass of lust ready to explode, despite his lack of sleep. If he didn’t manage to sink his cock between the sweet thighs that had hugged his hips all night long, he knew he would be resigned to at least jacking off in the shower to keep from raping her.

  She had slept for most of the ride, resting against him, her head pillowed on the back of his shoulder as he guided the cycle through the night. The rain had eased after she finally dropped off, the short, sharp bursts of lightning fading into the distance.

  He would never forget watching the elements invade that damned warehouse after she called them to her. Lightning, rain and wind had whipped through the building, leaving a mess that he knew would raise questions when the workers returned there the next morning.

  In the middle of it, sword flying, a smile on her face and her war cry echoing around them had been a vision of Ariel he had thought he was never to see. Here was the warrioress he could glimpse in her eyes all those centuries before. The one restrained, cut off from her power, distant from what she might have been because of Jonar’s cruelty and treachery.

  They dragged themselves wearily into the motel, ate the breakfast Kanna left for them and Shane could only watch in frustration as Ariel collapsed onto the bed, still dressed, and fell asleep.

  He grimaced painfully, shaking his head at his arousal and the hard-on that refused to go away.

  “Come on, sleeping beauty,” he sighed roughly as he unlaced her vest and began undressing her. “You can’t sleep in your clothes.”

  She mumbled something that had his brows rising in surprise.

  “Grouch,” he chuckled, stripping the vest from breasts so round and firm it made his tongue ache to taste them.

  Gritting his teeth, he tossed the vest to the chair by the side of the bed and eased her boots and pants off before jerking the blankets over her and releasing a guttural growl. Dammit, ten fucking centuries living like a celibate so he could watch her twitch her ass around him and fight like a little hellion, only to have her sleep when his need was so great.

  Shaking his head, he moved for the bathroom and a cold shower. An hour later he pulled a small bottle of complimentary whisky from the mini-bar and downed it in two drinks. His dick was still as hard as iron and throbbing for relief.

  And Ariel still slept.

  Damn her hide.

  He plopped down on the couch, staring at the bed, his eyes narrowed as his fingers wrapped around the stiff shaft thrusting from between his thighs. How many nights had he laid in his bed at the castle, eyes closed, jerking off to the remembered scent of her, the sounds of her breathy little gasps as pleasure finally overwhelmed her?

  No matter how long the centuries or how deep the loneliness went, he had remembered her. Her taste, her touch. Those luminous amethyst eyes, the passion that would rise within them.

  He leaned his head back against the couch, gritting his teeth as his hand tightened on his cock. His balls contracted, tight and aching, to the base of the shaft, pleading to release the seed they contained.

  He was not going to get off like this, he told himself, refusing to give in to the need to stroke the pain away. He would wait. He could wait for her. Surely she wouldn’t deny him much longer. She knew she belonged to him. Knew she was his wife. Would she make him wait indefinitely?

  His hand clenched on the erection, realizing that the state of arousal he was in would only grow worse if he dared to attempt to sleep in the bed beside her. There was no way he could be so close…

  “You should have woken me.”

  His eyes flew open, then narrowe
d at the sight his wife kneeling between his spread thighs. She was naked, her breasts swollen, her nipples hard and thrusting forward, demanding attention.

  His eyes went to hers then. There, he saw not just the temptress, but the innocent woman kneeling before him. A glitter of nervousness shone in her dark eyes, in the way her tongue dampened her full, luscious lips.

  Her hands pressed against the inside of his thighs and he shifted them apart wider, making room for her to fit herself before him.

  “Do not tempt me,” he growled in warning. “I will not be able to let you go a second time.”

  “Did I ask you to let me go the first time?” she asked him as she lay her head against his thigh, her warm breath drifting over his scrotum. “I watched this movie once,” she whispered as her hand smoothed up his other thigh, her fingers reaching the taut sac. “I watched it over and over again, and knew if I ever met the man who could make me hot enough, wet enough to need him, then I would try it.”

  She looked up at him again, and he saw her need for this, for the choice to be hers, the decision all her own.

  “I’m more than just a fighter, or a Mistress of the Wind,” she whispered. “I want to be a woman too, Shane. Your woman.” There was no hesitancy, but he could sense her trepidation, her womanly fears.

  Oh God. This would kill him. He could hear the curiosity in her voice as well and feared he could never hold onto his control long enough to allow her whatever play she desired.

  “Ariel, I have waited too long,” he groaned as her fingers moved to support the heavy weight of his scrotum. They were soft, so silky, so perfect.

  “Why don’t you have body hair, Shane?” she asked him then, her breath licking over the bare, sensitive flesh like flames.

  He gritted his teeth against it. “The healing units,” he breathed out harshly as he attempted to explain. “We must use them each century. They prevent body hair from growing.”

  “Hmm.” The explanation seemed to satisfy her. If it didn’t, at least she was waiting before saying more.

  “Sweet heaven, woman!” His hips jerked as her tongue stroked slowly over the tight flesh, his hips arching, nearly coming out of his seat at the pleasure.