Believe the Magic

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Believe the Magic Page 30

by Melani Blazer


  I sighed, squealed, screamed, I don’t know what else. The joy that flooded me was incredible. At least as powerful as the waterfall beside us.

  Once I’d leaned back and made sure it was him—I knew my heart wouldn’t betray me, but I had to make my brain comprehend—I threw my arms around him. The tears returned then. I couldn’t help it. I felt on the verge of bursting.

  Quentin was alive.

  After our overlong embrace, I studied him, memorized each feature in case Sam were to tell me it was just a dream, one of his holograms.

  But Quentin’s clothes were torn, his face and hands red beneath the layer of soot.

  “How?” I asked, of anyone, no one.

  Quentin stared up over my shoulder at Lou. With his arm securely holding me closely, I turned to face the only one who could have done it.

  “No, no. It was my son’s idea.” Lou smiled down. “Sam knew without magic you two would need each other. So he went back for Quentin before it was too late. And almost didn’t make it.”

  Sam stepped up to stand beside his father. I expected him to be dwarfed by the presence of Lou, but realized Sam had his own aura, a giant stature that had little to do with physical size. It was all heart.

  “Quentin, you’re probably as confused.”

  I felt, rather than saw him, nod.

  “A friend of yours named Frederique got in touch with me when the storm blew up. He spilled the plan knowing you weren’t going to succeed. Something about your heart getting in the way.”

  I looked up. Quentin’s eyes glittered playfully. He squeezed me a little tighter. “I couldn’t leave without Ella.”

  Lou coughed.

  Sam continued, “You see, Ella, Quentin was on the same side, going against orders, yes, but he did work with help and had managed to infiltrate some of Bergestein’s secrets. Like word he had the sapphire. The problem was Quentin was so far underground, none of us could trust him. We knew the power of these gems were a giant influence. He’d slipped in the past.”

  I nodded. I’d learn those stories sometime, I hoped.

  “Which is why all the created gems are being deactivated—”

  “They’re not already?” I interrupted. Magic was still out there? Being used?

  “The mission we undertake now is to locate and destroy them. But all the work to finish that will be done from the safety of this island.”

  I didn’t even want to know how. And obviously that mission could be done without me. Which meant I got to go home.

  I drank in the last view of paradise. The scent, freshness, harmony, they would all be things I’d never forget.

  “So, Lou, about a ride home?” I prompted.

  “To Alaska, then?” Quentin nudged.

  What was it with him and cold, wet places? “Huh?”

  “I haven’t been home in years.”

  I countered. “Alaska? What about me? What’s wrong with central Illinois?”

  “I don’t live in Illinois is what’s the matter.”

  “We can vacation in Alaska, right, Lou, Sam?” Help me here. I wasn’t a snow lover. And we had snow in Illinois.

  The two men at the throne wore smiles the size of the entire United States. “You’ve got to make a decision. Now, preferably, and seal it with a kiss. You can go anywhere you want.”

  I had an idea, one I thought he’d buy. “Vegas?” I arched an eyebrow.

  His arms locked around my waist as I faced him. “Hey, I can do Vegas.” He leaned down and pressed the most gentle, promising, loving kiss to my lips. My toes tingled and my heart swelled to balloon size.

  I realized in that moment having a magical power wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. If you have love, you have all the real magic you’ll ever need.

  We opened our eyes to the roar of a crowd.

  Even the magician looked surprised to find us there, locked in a kiss, when he’d pulled away the red curtain.

  “Evening,” I said with a smile and allowed myself to be led from the box. Quentin stepped down onto the stage behind me.

  “Who are you?” The magician hissed. “And where’d you come from?”

  Quentin and I exchanged a look. A knowing look with a promise. I touched the sapphire fisted in my hand.

  “Magic,” we said in unison. I added, “You just have to believe in magic.”

  Melani Blazer

  To learn more about Melani Blazer, please visit www.melaniblazer.com. Send an email to Melani at [email protected] or join her Yahoo! group to join in the fun with other readers as well as Melani! http://groups.yahoo.com/group/melaniblazersmusings

  Enjoy this excerpt from Shelly Laurenston’s fantasy romance, The Distressing Damsel, available from Samhain Publishing May 16, 2006

  It was the long tongue on the back of her knee that woke her up. Forcing her eyes open, she looked over her shoulder to see Briec, naked and beautiful, stretched across the enormous bed. His big arms placed on either side of her legs, holding his body over her as he leaned forward and again licked the back of her knee, reveling in it as if someone had spread the finest honey on her skin.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Waking you up.” His voice sounded raw and husky from sleep and sex. She liked it.

  Nipping the sensitive flesh, he grinned. “See? You’re awake now.”

  “How long did I sleep?”

  “Too long.” It didn’t feel like too long.

  When he’d finally exhausted her in the hot springs, he’d picked her up and carried her back to her bed. After quickly drying her off, he’d set her down and got in behind her, muttering something like, “It’s about time you let me in this bed.” Too tired to ask what the hell he meant, and enjoying the feel of his strong arm around her as he drifted to sleep, she instead buried her head in the pillow and quickly dropped off.

  Now here he was, dragging that gorgeous body up and over hers, his warm, wet tongue leading the way.

  “You taste good.”

  “Coming from a dragon, that compliment can be a little scary.”

  He nipped one butt cheek, then the other. “Be nice, woman.”

  She didn’t want to be nice. She wanted to play. Especially since she never had before. At least not in bed. “Why should I be nice?” she teased. “You’re not nice.” And my, but she did enjoy that about him.

  He kissed her lower back, right where her spine met her hips, then licked at it. “I don’t know how,” he murmured against her warm flesh.

  “Perhaps I can show you how easy it is to be nice.”

  Slowly his eyes lifted to look at her face. “Oh, I think I’d like that,” he breathed out huskily.

  She pulled from his grasp, raising herself on her knees while he leaned back, his hands flat on the bed, propping him up.

  Turning, she moved to his side and placed her hand on his chest. She stroked the hard, smooth skin and marveled at how her merest touch caused ripples across his body. And that was only with her hand.

  Leaning forward, she used the tip of her tongue to tickle one nipple. He let out a harsh gasp, followed by a moan when she suckled him into her mouth. She slid her mouth to the other side and did the same. He shuddered and moaned again, making Talaith smile.

  Who knew she had this kind of power?

  Talaith slid her hand down his chest and her lips and tongue followed. Before she even reached his straining erection, he’d lifted his hips as if expecting her to take him in her mouth. Her arrogant dragon.

  Instead, she licked it from base to tip and back again. Then she followed the pulsating veins, avoiding the head except to occasionally tickle it with her nose.

  “Talaith,” he groaned.

  “Aye?” Her tongue slithered up the underside of his shaft.

  “Don’t torture me, woman.”

  “Torture you? Me? The weak human torturing a dragon of such awesome power and intellect?”

  He grinned at her teasing. “Yes, evil witch. You’re torturing me. At least have the decency
to admit it.”

  “I’ll admit nothing.”

  “So I noticed,” he muttered while his eyes watched her every move.

  She ignored his comment, unwilling to ruin the good mood with the reality of her situation. She had no idea how long before the goddess came for her, and she didn’t want to waste a second thinking about anything but him and how he made her feel.

  Talaith wrapped her hand around the base of his shaft, marveling at its length and width while enjoying the taste of it, of him. She licked fluid off the tip, teasing the slit with the tip of her tongue, forcing another broken moan from him.

  His hand slid into her hair, massaging the back of her head with his long fingers. “Talaith…”

  “Mhmm?”

  He growled and she fought her desire to laugh.

  “Stop teasing me, wench. You’re being heartless.”

  “I find using the word ‘please’ quite effective at these moments.” She nipped the base and his body jerked in response. “Begging would be even better.”

  When he didn’t answer, she glanced up to find him staring off, frowning.

  Leaning back a bit, she stared at him. “Gods, you’ve never said please, have you?”

  “I’m thinking.” He was silent for a few more seconds, then… “No. I never have.” He looked down at her, one eyebrow raised. “And I don’t plan to start now.”

  Anyone else—king or peasant, husband or child—she’d feel insulted. Yet she wasn’t because she knew he wasn’t being cruel or cold hearted. Just a dragon who never had to say “please” and “sorry” before. And if she thought for one moment she would end up spending the rest of her life with him, she’d have some real concerns.

  Since that wouldn’t happen, as he’d reminded her the day before, she wouldn’t worry.

  “That’s a real shame, dragon.” She ran her tongue across the tip, blew on the wetness she left behind. “Because without it…” Her open mouth hovered over his shaft for several seconds and she could hear him swallow in desperation, anticipating her sucking him into his next life. Instead of doing that, she snapped her mouth shut. “I can’t help you.”

  “You evil—”

  “Ah, ah, ah. You be nice.”

  Snarling, his hand still tangled in her hair, he pulled her close then pushed her onto her back. He lay across her, his mouth claiming hers.

  Wicked, wicked thoughts flowed through her brain while Briec’s hands moved across her body, his tongue thrusting against hers.

  She moaned and writhed under him, and he pulled back just enough to say, “We both know I can make you beg long before me, sweet Talaith.”

  “My, my, we are…” she arched into his body as one of his hands slid between her thighs, “…sure of ourselves.”

  “It’s a gift.”

  “A gift for you. A curse for the rest of us.”

  He smiled as he teased her hard nipple with his tongue. Digging her hands into his hair, she silently urged him to take it into his mouth, but he only chuckled, opting to blow on it instead.

  Bastard!

  ©Shelly Laurenston

  Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

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