“So, how do I do that?” I asked, finishing up with my coffee and feeling much better for it.
“We need to confront some fey. It is only through experimentation that you will hone your skills.”
I wasn't sure if any fey had made it to South America yet, but Avery seemed to think it was only a matter of time. Like only a matter of hours, not days. He had sensed a portal nearby. Not fully activated, but pulsing with anticipated magic. If not tonight, he was sure tomorrow would elicit a confrontation. I just hoped it would be the Light Fey and not the Dark.
The thought that it would happen so soon, that fey would pour through a doorway from their world right into the neighbourhood I was hiding in, was alarming. I felt my heart rate increase and a small sheen of sweat coat my skin. Sure, Avery had talked of it taking just a week for me to come to the conclusion, that joining with him would be the only course of action. That there would be so many fey in our world that I would be desperate to help the Iunctio close the portals. But, I hadn't really let that sink in. Now with his words of the Fey appearing in Copacabana by tomorrow so final, so sure, I was starting to feel trapped.
Trapped in the notion that I could stop this from happening, simply by joining with a vampire. Trapped in the feeling of being hunted and the predator already had me in his sights.
Avery had me in his sights now, his eyes taking in the increased beat of my pulse on my neck. He could probably hear my heartbeat as well. I knew what he was thinking. It was natural, it was what he was. He wanted me frightened and he wanted me to run. Even though he had fed twice tonight, once from me already, he wanted to chase me down, pin me to the ground and drink from me again. I willed myself to lower my heart rate and settle my breathing. And watched, as I got my internal physiology back under control, his eyes settled from jade, back to amber, then finally hazel.
He flicked his gaze up to mine and smiled a toothy grin. Fangs were peeking out from behind his lips.
“Almost,” he said rather huskily. I was thinking the rest of that sentence went something like this: Almost made you run. Almost tasted you again.
I shook my head at him. “You couldn't handle it.” One drink from me and he'd been compromised, I was thinking another sip from the Nosferatin fountain in the same night would incapacitate him completely.
He chuckled. “I'd be willing to give it a go, Ms. Monk.”
Luckily we were both distracted by the pull. I gladly fell into the role of hunter. Allowing Avery to tag along and watch from the sidelines, as I dealt with the wayward threat. Another rogue, feasting on a local this time. A guy that had stupidly taken a short cut through a small, dark alley. The vampire had fang to throat by the time I arrived, so I didn't waste a second.
I spun through the air before he even sensed me and staked him through the back. Somehow, putting on a show for Avery felt ill advised. I could just imagine him getting all hot under the collar watching me tangle with a vamp. When I finished checking the dazed human and turned to look back at Avery, my suspicions were confirmed.
“That was too easy, Ms. Monk.” He was leaning against a wall casually, legs crossed at his ankles, arms crossed over his chest. “You could have at least played with him a little, like you did the one last night.”
“I'm not here for your entertainment, Avery.” I was holding a small cloth to the human's throat. Staking the vampire had meant he hadn't had a chance to seal the wounds and asking Avery to do it was not only rude, but would have admitted I could use his help. Which I didn't. I'd been doing this on my own for some time now. I didn't need a vampire to lend a hand.
The human came around and automatically moved his hand to his neck. I said, “Porão estreitamente.” Then proceeded to tell him that some guy on crack had tried to slice his throat. Whether he believed it or not, I don't know. But, he did keep pressure on the wound and said he was OK to make it home on his own.
When he left, I dusted myself down and headed past Avery towards the lights of Avenida Atlântica. He thrust his hands in his pockets, but kept his eyes firmly on me as he followed.
Finally, I couldn't stand the scrutiny any longer. “What?” I demanded, turning back towards him and making him stop within a foot of me.
“You are remarkable when you spin,” he said, comfortably. A statement of fact, barely an emotion present at all.
I just looked at him for a moment. “It's my job. It's what I do.”
His hand came up and rested behind my neck, stroking slightly there. A small amount of jade began to bleed into his eyes and I could tell his fangs had elongated.
“I want you to be mine,” he said in a low growl.
Great. In my speed to dispatch the bad guy and avoid getting Avery all excited, I'd managed to impress him to such a point that he still got turned on anyway. Could I do nothing right?
“Well, I'm not available, so chill.” My voice was steady, but the look of hunger in his eyes made my heart rate increase. Damn those natural bodily responses. I kept repeating in my mind: show no fear, show no fear, show no fear.
“Avery,” I said, sighing dramatically. “If you're going to tag along on each of my hunts for the rest of the week, you're going to have to deal with this libido of yours.”
He looked at me with surprise for a minute and then he slowly started to smile. That amused smile he seemed to wear whenever I breached the topic of sexual urges. As though he knew the answer to some joke I just seemed to keep missing. “My, my, my, Ms. Monk. You have grown some since we last met.” His hand dropped away and he shifted his shoulders to loosen up. “By the end of the week, you'll be begging me to claim you,” he added and then walked right past me and out onto the main street.
Cocky, horny, arrogant bastard.
I followed the sound of his laughter, he'd already made it several feet down the road. Simply expecting me to chase along in his wake. I contemplated going in the other direction, but that would only play into his hands. So, I turned towards the sound of his chuckles and came face to face with my first fey.
Why Avery had not sensed him, I don't know. But, I knew immediately that he was one of them.
Long blonde hair past his shoulders, green eyes and chiselled cheekbones. A soft, kiss-me-quick mouth and a faint scent of honeysuckle. He was taller than me - but that's not saying much - and nicely toned. Not overly muscled like a vampire, but well defined under his white close fitting T-Shirt and hip hugging tan trousers. He smiled when I looked back at his face, after taking in the length of his fine body, and simply held out his hand to me. As though he expected me to take it without any hesitation at all.
I did raise my hand. I couldn't seem to stop myself. I felt drawn to his body, his scent, the swirl of his eyes. All rational thought left my brain and only clasping that hand made any sense at all. And then my mind was assailed by images flicking across a screen. One after the other in quick succession, but slow enough for me to recognise who they were of. Michel. Michel and me. Laughing, talking, loving. A sense of utter contentment stole over me, a happiness at the thought of what I was seeing was so very real. Michel was waiting for me and this man, this fairy, would take me straight to him.
It must have been the fact that I had thought of the blonde god-like man in front of me as a fairy that broke the spell. Shattered the images. Made me realise it wasn't true. I gasped, my hand already held in his, and tried to pull away. His eyes flashed a vivid green, a chartreuse in amongst lime and I felt myself slump against his toned chest, his other arm immediately curving around me as he held me trapped against his body.
I struggled for a moment, I fought to free myself from his clutches and then I heard a sweet musical chiming, softly in my ears, and I was instantly lying in Michel's bed. His body draped around me, his hands caressing my skin, his mouth on my neck laying delicate kisses down over my jaw. I hadn't seen that bed for over two months, but his touch was like a flame to a moth, like honey to a bee, I craved it. I wanted it. I couldn't deny myself this moment. It was what I wanted mo
st of all in the world. I would gladly give up my soul for one more moment in bed with Michel.
I began removing my jacket and started to take my singlet off too. A wetness had already formed between my legs. I moaned as Michel shifted to position himself above me. I wanted him so badly, I wanted him right now.
More musical chimes interrupted my pleasure. I wasn't used to hearing them in our house. Then in between his nips and suck, his licks and kisses - which were driving me to fever pitch, so close to the edge I thought I would explode - were further noises that were out of place in our bedroom. Someone had started shouting something and I recognised the voice. It wasn't Michel's. I stopped kissing Michel back and tried to decide whose voice it was and where they were. They sounded desperate for me to listen to them. But Michel simply couldn't hear them, or he thought they weren't important, because he drew my attention back to him with his hand slipping beneath my skirt and starting a gentle stroke above my wet core.
I arched against him and relished the sensations I had for so long considered gone. This feeling of letting go. But I couldn't let go, there was a reason why. I just couldn't remember what that reason was right now. The chiming got louder, Michel became more determined to seek my pleasure. Pressure built; wonderful, beautiful, pressure. I rode his fingers, crying out for something more. He didn't disappoint, removing my panties completely, but simply pushing my skirt up my thighs and out of his way.
Another unwanted thought interrupted my precious moment with my kindred. I hadn't been wearing a skirt. Had I? The chiming changed, lowering to a seductive tone. It wrapped around me as surely as Michel's hands wrapped around my hips and then he slid between my legs preparing to enter me. The touch of his hard tip at my entrance made me groan and all other thoughts disappear from my mind. Just my kindred, just Michel and what I wanted so desperately, so badly, so fiercely to happen next. I hunted it, I sought it, I chased that next longed-for sensation. There was nothing in this world, on this Earth, that I wanted more than Michel to be deep inside me, encased in my swollen centre, rubbing, grinding, rocking me to oblivion.
And then Avery was there, taking away my moment, my happiness, my release. Denying me what I wanted most. I sank to a cold, hard, unforgiving, concrete pavement - so far removed from the bedroom in St. Helier's Bay - and moaned in unrelieved hunger. My hand automatically going to my groin, my thighs squashed together trying to find some form of relief from the unrelenting urge to find release. I needed that release. I needed it now and it didn't matter that I was panting and now on a busy street in Rio. It didn't matter that I was no longer with Michel by my side. In my head, Michel was still there. In my head, Michel was going to give me what I needed, what I craved above all else.
I didn't manage to finish the picture I was forming, at that thought in my mind. Avery, bloodied and dishevelled and with eyes shining jade, scooped me up and I just screamed in frustration.
“Ms. Monk. We must leave, now!”
He crushed me to his chest and despite the blood I could smell on him, despite the coolness of the breeze against my arms as he flashed through the streets, I twisted in his grasp, closed my eyes and imagined I was still with Michel.
I recognised the hallway to my apartment and I almost lost my hold on the magnificent movie of being with Michel playing in my mind. I heard the door crash closed behind us and then I was placed on top of a bed.
“I need,” I panted.
“I know,” he said. “I'll make it go away.” I could barely understand him through the fog in my mind.
Then I was back with Michel again, I rubbed against his thigh, dumbfounded that he wasn't just sinking into me in one hard thrust. Taking me, like I was picturing in my mind. I shouted in my head for him to pay attention, this is what I want, I thought, as I showed him exactly what he could do to me.
“Fuck me,” I said as I stroked Michel. “Now.”
“Shit,” he gasped. “Ms. Monk...”
Ms. Monk? I mentally shrugged my shoulders, Michel was playing a game. I forced more colour, sound and sensation into the movie I was making in my mind, reinforcing just what I wanted Michel to be doing.
And then suddenly I wasn't in Michel's bed, but lying in the grass on the hills above my parents' farm.
“Ma douce,” Michel's voice whispered against my flesh. His lips brushing my fevered skin. His tongue lapping a long hot, wet line between my breasts.
Oh, this was different, so intensely vivid, so real.
“Michel,” I whimpered.
“Shh,” he said as he positioned himself above me and finally, thank Goddess, entered me in a slow, hard thrust.
I cried out in relief and heartache. A cocktail of emotions that should not exist side by side and made absolutely no sense at all. My orgasm came quickly, his hips rocking back and forward at a slow and steady pace. Then he shuddered above me, sinking as hard and far as he could inside and then stilled. Looking down at me with such love and devotion.
I noticed the shadows beneath his eyes then. The sweat on his brow. He looked different somehow. He was also shaking with the effort of what we had just done. But, it had been over so quickly and he had taken it so slowly, it shouldn't have left him gasping for breath.
“I cannot stay. You must find a way to detect them sooner.” Them? A creepy feeling started to settle between my shoulder blades, my mind lifting out of a fog. Then he kissed me, long and hard and full of everything I wanted to say to him but no longer could. “Je t'aime, ma douce.”
And then he was gone.
Chapter 5
Fey Protection 101
“Fuck,” I shouted, jumping up from the bed. I was fully clothed and completely bewildered. “What the hell just happened?”
“Well,” Avery drawled, “you have been under the mind-control influence of a fairy and I brought you back.”
“No you didn't. That was Michel.” I began pacing, trying to get my nerves back under control.
Avery stiffened and looked at me strangely for a moment. I ignored him and continued to pace.
“Who the hell was that fey?” I asked through gritted teeth, as memories of the street in Rio came crashing back into my mind.
“A member of the Royal Court of Ljósálfar.” Avery answered and then added unnecessarily, “The portal here is open.”
“No shit,” I snapped. “How come you didn't sense him?”
He looked a little uncomfortable then, but straightened his shoulders slightly and said, “I did. I had hoped the experience would be a good training session for you.”
“You what?” I asked, stopping my pacing to face him, hands on hips. “Stuff you, Avery, you thought I'd just stumble on a fairy and be able to hold my own? A test, huh? It fucking backfired, didn't it?”
“I hadn't expected there to be three,” he admitted, reluctantly. Wait, there were three? “If I had thought you would be in danger, I would have prepared you better. But it seems, they are determined to return you to their prince.”
“Their prince,” I muttered to myself. Then fixing Avery with a hard stare, asked, "Just what happened on that street? What did you see exactly?" I was thinking it was probably different from what had happened in my mind.
"You about to waltz off to Álfheimr without a backward glance."
Shit. "He made me think something else entirely."
“Yes,” Avery said languidly. “I am well aware what the fairy made you think." He paused and ran a hand through his hair, a subconscious movement to make sure it was all in its rightful place. "The fact that they are working in groups is alarming though. What did you feel before you came out onto the street?” he asked, quietly.
I thought about that for a moment and then said, “Angry.”
“Not what you were feeling towards me, Ms. Monk. What did you sense around you?”
I shook my head. “Nothing. But, I knew it was a fairy as soon as I came face to face with him.”
“So, you acknowledged what he was immediately, but were unable to fig
ht his influence despite that knowledge?” Avery asked.
I felt a blush creep up my cheeks.
“Yeah, that about covers it,” I said, my voice cracking slightly. So much for the big, bad hunter I'm supposed to be. I walked straight up to a fairy and almost let him abduct me, spiriting me off to another realm altogether.
I sat down in an undignified lump on the couch. “How the hell am I going to fight them?”
Avery didn't say anything for a while, then finally, “It's not all lost, Ms. Monk. You did recognise what he was, after all. We'll just have to train you to be more aware of what is around you.”
“And how do you plan to do that, Avery?” I asked, feeling a little overwhelmed by the task ahead.
“We'll stake out the portal and have you sense them before they sense you. Repeatedly. Until you can sense them in your sleep.”
“And then what? Because, in case you didn't notice, that fairy didn't have much trouble getting me to believe something different from reality and...” I trailed off, feeling a sudden, shocking emptiness in my chest for what I had felt and then lost all over again. Michel.
Avery stood and came over to the couch. He didn't sit down next to me, which was probably a good thing. I was still extremely raw from what had happened. I'd even wrapped my arms around my stomach in an effort to hold myself together. He just stood in front of me for a minute and then ran a frustrated hand through his hair. Quickly reorganising it again as soon as the motion had been completed.
“How did you block my influence when I was feeding from you?” he asked, his voice a low growl. I'm betting he wasn't happy I was able to block him. Most vampires use feeding as an opportunity to service many of their needs. If I had responded to Avery then, I'm sure he would have taken advantage of me further. I am not an animal, aside.
I looked up at him and stared back at his hard gaze. “I used shields and my Light.”
Shadow's Light Page 6
