She donned a thin, white cotton shift for the journey to the Standing Stones. The other essential items she needed were located in the sanctuary. Now she had to figure how to get into the attic without anyone noticing her.
Jinx leaped off the bed, not about to leave her alone, and they quietly snuck out of the bedroom and up the flights of stairs.
Only one ghost crossed their path and immediately dispersed when Jinx hissed. Tierra felt around the door to the attic, not willing to turn on a light, and carefully recited the spell that would uncloak Mirelle's sanctuary.
"This is as far as you can go," she whispered to Jinx, leaning down and stroking the cat. Jinx lifted her nose and left a kiss on her cheek. "Take care of them if this goes upside down. Please know how thankful I am for your devotion to my family." Jinx rubbed up against her shins, letting out a pitiful meow, a menacing mandate to keep her ass safe or else.
Once inside, Tierra reversed the charm, once again hiding the room. She lit a candle, gathered the other items she needed, placed them in a basket, along with salt for the circle, a small ceremonial knife, and the smelly blend of herbs Claire and Moira had helped her concoct the last time she'd seen Killian.
Taking a deep breath, Tierra conjured her wand, turned the leaf-shaped knob, and opened the door to the Standing Stones.
The swollen harvest moon had risen to its zenith, shining red and gold over the Standing Stones, bathing them in shades of copper and bronze. The air was still, almost reverent, the chill of the night bearable as the day had been so unseasonably warm.
Tierra strode to the middle of the stones, poured salt on the dormant grass, and cast the circle. She lit candles and placed them north, east, south, and west, offering up a small prayer to the Goddess.
Centering herself, she slowly released the tie at her throat, and the shift pooled at her feet. She stood naked, a symbol of fertility and strength, in the moonlight. She reached for the knife and sliced her palm, the blood seeping into the soil, a small sacrifice to what she was about to ask of the Earth. She drank the potion and began reciting the spell.
"Powers of mountain and glen,
deliver me to Killian.
Allow safe passage and return.
In this sacred place and in this hour,
I command that my will be done,
by the bond that binds us three.
So mote it be . . ."
The ground trembled beneath her feet, wind gusted and wailed, and the majestic stones before her shimmered.
In a blink she was gone.
****
Killian struggled against the chains that bound him to the bed of copper nails. He had to get free. Whatever had happened the night before proved that Tierra had been trying to rescue him.
It went against everything in his nature to have a woman save his ass, but then another woman was bound and determined that he wouldn't survive and be the same man after her special brand of treatment.
She wanted him to be a pet, housebroken, and submissive.
Never fucking going to happen.
Tierra had gifted him with renewed strength, somehow healed him of his injuries, and prevented him from further harm.
Now if he could just break these chains.
A pinpoint of jade flickered in the dim light and grew, gleaming into the loveliest shade of green he'd ever beheld.
Tierra appeared like a vision in the dank, hell hole in front of him.
She was . . . enchanting. An earth goddess. Nay an earth warrior goddess. Naked and wild, with leaves and flowers entwined in her titian-colored hair that flowed down just shy of brushing her shapely hips. The Druid King's golden crown regally sat upon her head, while colorful crystals twinkled at her wrists and ankles. Jeweled and silver rings adorned her fingers, yet it was the intricate tree of life—with Celtic symbols interwoven into the roots and leafy branches—gracing the supple mound of her belly that drew his attention. Beneath that tree, his child flourished.
How had she known to anchor herself to the Earth in such a manner?
She took his breath away. His heart galloped in his chest, and his body swelled with need. A need so encompassing that his whole body shuddered.
"Killian!" She rushed toward him. One hand clutched her wand and the other reached for him, but she stopped as though she didn't know where to touch him first.
"Tierra?" It's really her, not a mirage.
She studied the chains and then directed those lovely long fingers wrapped about her wand toward the copper links. A few whispered words, and the metal links bent to her will until they broke.
He dragged a full breath into his lungs, something he hadn't been able to do with the restraints holding him down against the sharp nails.
"Can you stand?" she asked, her voice full of concern. "I don't know how to raise you off the nails without hurting you further."
He placed his hands on the nails, and they pierced his palms as he pushed against them. But it was enough leverage to help him roll off the needle-sharp points. Tierra caught him in her arms when he hit the floor.
"Hold onto me. I have you."
He could bloody well do anything now that he'd been released of the leeching copper. He tried to rise and stumbled, falling back to his knees. Well, maybe he would need a moment. But time was something they didn't have. He had to get her out of here before she was discovered.
If Lucifer got her hands on Tierra . . .
He couldn't bear to think of that scenario.
"Hold onto me." She knelt beside him and locked her arms around him. "We're getting out of here." She closed her eyes and started to chant.
"I call upon air, earth, fire, and sea,
return us safely back to the earthly sphere,
By the power that binds us three,
So mote it be . . ."
She chanted it four times before stopping, her arms tightening where they squeezed him. "Something's wrong. It's not working." Panic made her words choppy. "Why isn't it working?"
"You're channeling your sisters' powers through the elements, right?"
"Yes."
"Eliminate air."
She swallowed but didn't comment as if words were beyond her. She nodded, her eyes glistening, her voice trembling as though tears swam close to the surface, and began the spell again.
"I call upon earth, fire, and sea,
return us safely back to the earthly sphere,
By the power that binds us three,
So mote it be . . ."
A displacement of sound and space and Killian suddenly found himself kneeling within the protection of the Standing Stones, Tierra still wrapped naked around him.
A growl started deep in his belly and traveled up his throat until he bellowed into the sky. Power seethed inside him, his presence in the earthly realm returned what had been drained of him, healed what had been done to him.
Tierra scrambled away, as a shaft of light from the harvest moon engulfed him. Pleasure, similar to a swimmer gulping a deep breath after being underwater too long, spread throughout his body. His wings slowly extended, stretching from their confines, the feathers shivering with eagerness to fly. He raised his arms to the sky in a prayer of thanksgiving.
Completely returned to his full power, Killian lowered his arms, his wings still extended, and stared at Tierra, passion and need running hot in his blood.
She had a lot to answer for.
She must have read the intent in his eyes, for she stumbled back a step, and then turned and ran for a white piece of fabric discarded on the grass. He reached her just as she grabbed the cloth.
"You will not need this." He tore the shift from her grasp.
"Killian—"
"We can talk after." His mouth swooped down and took hers. She stiffened in his arms, her naked body fully aligned against his bare skin. His wings caged her, leaving his hands free to investigate the changes that had happened during his incarceration.
She'd blossomed since the last time he had her i
n his arms. Her breasts were fuller, her hips a tad wider. She'd also lost weight. Weight she couldn't afford to lose.
A startled gasp escaped her when he palmed her breasts rougher than he'd intended.
"Killian, we can't." She tore her mouth free.
"The hell we can't." He took her mouth again, but then the thought came to him. He'd been absent a while, what if there had been complications with the babe? "Will having sex hurt the child?"
"Uh . . ."
He saw the desire to lie in her eyes and curled his lips into a predatory smile when she couldn't bring herself to utter it. "You owe me."
"Owe you?" Her green eyes flashed a warning.
"You sent me to Hell in the first place, so yes, you owe me, and I'm going to make you pay. Starting now."
"Killian—"
He dropped to his knees in front of her, tipping her back into the cradle of his wings, and worshipped at her center with his tongue.
She'd been all he'd thought of in Hell. All the things he wanted to do to her—with her. The many ways he would take her, let her take him. Exhaust himself within the heat of her body until Heaven and Hell, and the bloody human race, didn't matter. Only she and the magical child they'd created mattered. They were a new Adam and Eve for this soon to be post-apocalyptic world, creating a better human race, one that revered the Earth, replenished her riches, and fucking recycled.
"Oh, good Goddess," Tierra cried, her fingers digging into his shoulders. He reveled in the pleasure of her nails piercing his skin in small crescent moons. His fingers and tongue delved deep and sure, knowing how she liked to be touched, just how much pressure to give, to keep, how to suck and flick until she shattered.
He growled, relishing how she came apart in his grasp. Hungry to take more, to give more, he stood and backed her up against one of the stones. "Hold onto me. I have you." It was his turn to repeat the words that she spoke when she'd freed him from his chains in Hell.
Trembling in his embrace, she smartly obeyed, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He grabbed her thighs and hiked her up, and took her body with one deep thrust.
Tierra gasped, and her head fell back on her glistening porcelain shoulders. He'd planned to take her hard and deep, imprinting his body onto hers in his need to conquer. But that one smooth, wet slide into her silken heat stilled him in place, completely captured by the pleasure of being inside her and the wanton picture of her in his arms.
Her lips were red and swollen like crushed rose petals from his rough kisses, her skin flushed under the glow of the persimmon moon. He stared, enraptured. Wearing the golden crown, with white flowers of belladonna and angelica as well as the many shades of green foliage entwined in the tresses of her thick reddish-black hair, she turned his need to master into one of wonder and reverence.
A stirring began in the center of his chest. He recognized the yearning much lower as he'd been dealing with its effects since the moment he'd first seen her at Siren's. But not this feeling. This was intense and vicious, yet also somehow gentle and caring.
He was Death, the fourth Horseman of the Apocalypse, and he did not fucking care.
Yet, he knew it for a lie. This woman had bewitched more than his body, she'd stolen his heart.
Tierra raised her head and looked at him when he held her against him without moving, gazing at him questioningly. Slowly he lowered his mouth and softly took her lips. She sighed into his mouth, her arms tightening around his neck as she tried to get closer to him. He began to move in a slow dance, a lazy ocean kissing the shore, a gentle flap of wings from a raven riding a summer's breeze. He made love to her, giving more of himself than he took.
She gasped his name, her thighs clenching around him, and he knew she was close. Still he didn't increase his pace, drawing out the pleasure, cataloging each expression, painting awe and pleasure over her lovely face.
This face was worn by another, the one who tortured him. He couldn't believe he'd ever mistaken Tierra for Aerin. In his eyes, they didn't look a thing alike.
Tierra was her own unique woman, created especially for him.
His climax began to build at the base of his spine, and he tried to hold it back, not wanting to have this connection, this magic, end so soon. But he was lost within her as she came, shuddering around him, her inner muscles milking his cock until he finally broke and thrust heavily inside her again and again. He bellowed her name as his world exploded and then realigned into something new and wondrous.
Breathing heavy, he dropped his head to rest alongside hers, cradling her against his hammering heart. The realization of how much she meant to him—and what he could lose—almost dropped him to his knees.
He didn't know how long they stood clenched together, but he knew it wasn't long enough to satisfy him.
"I need to get back," Tierra whispered.
His arms constricted around her in reflex. He couldn't let her go. Wouldn't.
"Besides, your brothers will be anxious to see you. There's also a bunch of lost souls that need rounding up. The town and the manor are plagued with their haunting."
"I can't let you return to the manor," Killian murmured, his lips in her hair.
"What did you say?"
"You heard me."
She shivered in his arms, becoming aware of how serious he was. "Why?"
He didn't know if she was asking why he didn't want her returning to the manor or if there was another reason. He wasn't ready to voice how deeply he felt for her. It would take some time for him to get used to the fucking idea himself.
"In Hell, Aerin was the one who devised ingenious ways to torture me. It's why calling upon the element of air in your spell didn't work."
"You're wrong. How would Aerin have gotten to Hell when it took everything I had to reach you? No, I don't believe it. It had to have been Lucifer wearing some disguise."
Yeah, wearing Aerin and dressed in Tierra's clothes.
"I've already thought of that, and you aren't going to like my conclusions. I'm sorry to inform you, Tierra, but Aerin's been possessed by Lucifer."
Tierra froze in his arms, her eyes wide and swimming with emotions, but she took the news better than he'd thought she would. "How?" Her voice cracked on the word.
"It's one of Lucifer's favorite tricks. She's mastered the ability to possess someone with just a touch." Now it was his turn to stiffen when Tierra's eyes turned hard as emeralds. "Did Lucifer try to possess you?"
"Y-yes, I think so, but the baby created a force field and kept her out. Oh goddess, I need to get home. I need to save Aerin and warn Moira and Claire." She struggled fiercely in his arms.
"That isn't happening, not until Aerin has been dealt with."
"And you think you can what . . . keep me?' She pushed uselessly against his shoulders, twisting her body to free herself from his ironclad embrace.
"You're mine, Tierra," he growled, holding her so tightly against his chest that he could feel her rapid beating heart against his. "I will do anything to keep you and our child safe. Returning to the manor is not an option, not with the Devil in residence."
"I just traveled to Hell and back and saved your sorry ass. I can deal with Lucifer and Aerin. I can save her. If you don't let me go, I'll send you right back to where I found you." The ground trembled under his feet as fury and fear bloomed in her eyes.
"No, you won't. Now that I am free, I have the power to open the gates to other realms. Places no one will ever find us, places you won't so easily travel back from." He gave her a wicked, possessive smile, liking this new plan more and more.
His arms clamped her tight against him, and he shot off the earth, before Tierra could split the earth's crust open and swallow him again. He captured her mouth to silence the spell she chanted in an attempt to free herself from him.
His onyx-black wings soared wild and sure, shooting them through the atmosphere, through the golden topaz rays of the morning sun to a place and time where they would never be found.
Mo
ira
by
Cynthia St. Aubin
Chapter One
She was going to pay for this.
At least, Moira de Moray was pretty sure she’d be frowned down by just about every witch, wizard, warlock and their spell-belching toads for stooping to the levels she was fixin’ to stoop to.
And Lord love a duck, she was stooping.
Naked as a jaybird, wand in hand, and leaning over a bathtub of water just south of scalding, Moira searched her scattered brain for the right words.
Or…words, anyhow.
Please dear Goddess, I’m choked with troubles,
make this bathtub filled with bubbles.
If it’s your will, so mote it be,
by power of earth, air, fire and sea.
Moira leapt back with a squeak as a jet of blinding cobalt blue flame shot from the tip of her wand and illuminated the water like a lantern. She squeezed her eyes shut against the brief retina-searing flash and blinked to clear the neon squigglies floating like jellyfish across her vision.
The pale blue glow burned onto the backs of her eyelids cast up a memory of Morgana de Moray, fellow water Druid and Moira’s own great aunt.
Probably this wasn’t the kind of magic Morgana had in mind when she’d given Moira the wand and its matching crown, now stashed in the underwear drawer among a sea of thongs.
But desperate times called for desperate measures, as Uncle Sal always said, and if biblical fish plagues, zombie luaus, ghostly get-togethers, and an ongoing shindig with the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse and Satan her-sulfurous-self didn’t qualify as desperate times, Moira wasn’t about to go looking for what would.
Didn’t a girl just about need, no, deserve a purifying bubble bath for surviving a turd tornado of that magnitude?
“I’ll be a pig’s pink pecker!” Moira said, finally peeking through her palms to admire the mounds of cloudy foam atop the steaming bath. “It worked!”
Setting her wand on the stand next to the bathtub she’d moments ago cleared of Tierra’s green tea bath salts and homemade juniper chamomile soap to make room for a bowl of pork rinds and a glass of whisky, Moira bent to steal a sniff of the spirit’s heavenly breath.
Which Witch is Wild? (The Witches of Port Townsend Book 3) Page 16
