by Alyssa Dean
"Oh really? Exactly how does that work?"
"A Wizard can't procreate unless he wills it," she muttered sleepily.
"Gee, I wish I'd known before that I was above the laws of nature."
She patted his chest with one of her soft little hands. "You aren't above the laws of nature, you work with them."
"Uh-huh."
"You didn't have any children with your wife, did you?"
"No." They had considered it, but he'd known from the beginning that it was a mistake, and wasn't about to compound the problem by bringing a child into the equation. Daphne had taken birth-control pills, or at least she'd said she had. He'd never actually seen them, but… No, he was letting Faye's imaginings get to him. "We were only married for a year," he added.
He heard her smile. "It only takes once."
"True. And we've just…"
"It's sweet of you to be concerned, but there's really no need." Faye moved her head, catching a strand of hair in his stubbled chin. "listen, the rain has stopped. We'll be able to cross the river in a few hours. Good night, Kent." She gave a final, light yawn and relaxed into sleep.
Kent wasn't one bit tired. As a matter of fact, he felt strong enough to mentally lift the hut and everything in it. That was unusual enough in itself—he'd expected it to take a good twenty-four hours before he had most of his strength back. Good thing it hadn't—they had a few obstacles to overcome before they were out of this mess. Still, he was confident that as soon as they got to a phone, as soon as he could talk to Dan, most of their problems would be solved. Dan would know the best course of action to take to get Collingswood out of the picture.
He felt too good to worry about it now. Faye released a sleepy little purr and snuggled closer, her hand trailing over his chest. Kent closed his eyes and relaxed into unfamiliar contentment. Not only did he feel sexually satisfied, he also felt somehow emotionally soothed.
About twenty minutes later, he opened his eyes. His sense of well-being remained, but there was another sensation there, and Faye was directly responsible. Her leg was tangled up with his own, and her hand had drifted lower—now resting just below his abdomen, and threatening to drift even lower. The sensation was much too arousing to allow sleep. He waited another ten minutes. She was sound asleep—it would be a shame to wake her. Then again, he'd been sound asleep before she'd decided to play doctor. Besides, even if he knew he wasn't a Wizard, she certainly thought he was. He had the honor of the Wizards to uphold!
He shifted her limp form and stretched out above her. "Wake up, honey," he encouraged as he nibbled on her shoulder.
She partly lifted her lashes, her eyes underneath filled with sleep and confusion. "Why?"
He gave her a deep, slow kiss, then began tasting his way down. "We have to finish our discussion."
She gasped short, whimpering pants of pleasure. "Wh-what are we discussing?"
He caressed her thighs, pressing his lips to the puckered flesh of her scars. "Libidos."
"L-libidos?"
"That's right." He used his fingers to part her moist, velvet opening, then used his mouth and his tongue, while his thumb searched through the blond curls. She squirmed, arching and making soft moaning sounds of astonishment and pleasure. When he figured she'd pretty much lost the drift of the conversation, he slid up to straddle her, gazing down into her heavy-lidded eyes. "Libidos," he reminded her. He put a hand on each breast, tormenting the hard little tips. "You were saying…"
Her lashes fluttered down. "I shouldn't have mentioned that."
"Oh, but you did." He took her hand and guided her fingers to close around him. "What was that you were saying about mine?"
Her mouth opened, her eyelids flashed up, her expression that of delicious temptation. "Wizards have… uh… strong libidos," she murmured. Her tongue licked her lips. "I… uh… guess I was right."
Then her palms slid up his chest to clutch his neck, pulling him down to her. Softly murmuring endearments, she drew her legs up to encircle his waist, and as he joined with her, Kent could feel the magic again.
Chapter Eight
Faye took a last, regretful look around the interior of the little hut. The first weak rays of early dawn crept through the open doorway, giving the room a rosy glow. All the items they'd used had been carefully put away, leaving nothing but a lingering tingle in the air to indicate that they had ever been here at all.
That didn't matter, Faye assured herself. She'd remember last night for the rest of her life. After all, who could forget being with a Wizard? She picked up her bag from the floor, pausing in mid-motion as another snippet of Wizard information crossed her mind. Her mother had mentioned something. Did it mean… ?
Kent's lean figure blocked the light, covering her with his faint shadow. "Come on," he urged. "Let's get out of here before those bozos in the helicopter get their brain cells activated."
Faye slowly followed him out, shivering in the chilly breeze that greeted her. Kent pulled the door closed behind them and studied the lock. He looked terrific this morning, his hair slightly curling in the dampness, the bruises on his face subsided, his jaw almost bearded. He had on the same clothes—brown cotton shirt, well-worn jeans, and his leather jacket. An aura of power hovered around him, indicating that whatever had been wrong with his magnetic field had been repaired. It would be impossible to forget someone like this. Wouldn't it?
Kent dropped the lock and shook his head. "Your acid did a good job on this. I can't fix it." He stepped back from the hut and examined the small white sign on the side. "I'll settle up with these guys after we return to civilization." He grinned widely. "Better yet, I'll let Dan handle it. He's good at making stuff like this sound perfectly natural."
One of the horses gave an impatient snort. Faye turned to pat Katlin's warm nose and reached out a hand toward Kalli. He tossed his head away with an arrogant swing of his blond mane, and pawed the ground. "He wants you to ride him this morning," Faye explained as Kent came up beside her.
Kent nodded gravely at the horse, the dimple on his chin twitching slightly. "I'm flattered."
"So is he," Faye murmured absently. She chewed on her lip as she watched him settle the backpack on his shoulders. "Kent?"
He adjusted a strap. "Uh-huh?"
"I… uh… I will remember it, won't I?"
"Remember what?" he grunted, as he fiddled with the other strap.
Faye gestured toward the hut. "Being here with you. I'll remember it?"
"I'd like to think so." He tested the set of the backpack with a shrug of his shoulders. "Any particular reason why you wouldn't?"
"I just don't know if it works both ways," she explained. "I never thought to ask, and…"
Kent performed a slow-motion turn to face her, his dark, narrow-eyed gaze roaming her body. "You don't know if what works both ways?"
Faye had a sudden suspicion she shouldn't have asked. "It's okay. I…"
"No, no. Go on." He folded his arms across his chest. "I can't wait to hear this one."
Faye swallowed with a now dry mouth. "Well… um… my mother mentioned that a Wizard usually forgets all about his amorous encounters. I just… ah… wondered if that meant I'd… um… forget it, too."
"I see." Kent sucked in his breath and bent his head to examine his right thumb. "And you figure I share this charming character trait, do you?"
It had never occurred to her that he might not. "Uh… well…"
His head came up, the amber flecks in his eyes glinting in the early-morning sun. "I take it that's a yes?"
"You are a Wizard," Faye said apologetically. "Naturally, I thought…"
"That's enough of this Wizard nonsense!" Kent growled. He wrapped his fingers around her forearms and gave her a slight shake. "We must be up to Wizard insult number two hundred and twelve by now!"
"Kent…"
"And for your information, little Miss Wizard Expert, I am not, repeat not, going to forget I slept with you! Ever!"
"But…"
"Instead of filling your head with fairy tales, your mother should have told you not to climb into bed with someone you figured would act that way!"
"But it was you," she reminded him. "You…"
"I know it was me, thank you! My memory is working just fine! That is not the point!" He lowered his head until it was an inch from her own and glared into her face. "You do not go around sleeping with men who don't care enough about you to remember they've done it!"
Faye's bottom lip started to tremble. "I thought you did care about me."
"Of course, I do! What kind of a creep do you think I am?" His scowl grew fierce. "Scratch that. I've already got a pretty clear picture!"
"I don't think you're a creep," Faye said indignantly. She tried a tentative smile. "And I care about you, too. That's why I want to remember it."
Kent's scowl drained away, leaving a dark tenderness in his eyes and his voice. "In that case, I can't think of a single reason why you wouldn't."
"Oh," Faye breathed, enthralled by his expression. "That's… uh… wonderful!"
He released a low groan and drew her against him, his lips slanting down possessively over hers, his hands roving over her back to press her closer into his warmth. He released her mouth and slung his arms over her shoulders while he gazed intently into her eyes. "I'm not going to forget, Faye. As a matter of fact, as soon as we're out of this mess, I will make darn sure neither of us do."
"I don't know if we'll have the chance." Faye sighed regretfully. "After all, we only have a short time together."
"Really?" He lifted one eyebrow. "Exactly how long is this 'short time'?"
"I'm not sure." Faye wrinkled her nose as she considered it. "We were brought together to defeat the Alchemist. After that, our time together will end."
His eyes assumed a half-believing, half-teasing expression. "What happens if we don't defeat him?"
"He destroys the world, and us along with it."
"We'd better not let that happen, then." He gave her a brief, hard kiss, swooped her up and set her on the mare. "If you're expecting me to disappear in a puff of smoke, though, you're in for a big disappointment."
Faye watched him vault onto the prancing gelding. "I'm not expecting you to disappear at all."
"Really?" He lifted one eyebrow in mock apprehension. "What dastardly thing am I supposed to do instead?"
"You don't do anything," Faye insisted. She took a long breath of cool morning air. "An Ayaldwode and a Wizard are brought together for a mission. When that mission is over, the Ayaldwode is the one who disappears."
Oh, get out of my head! Kent thought with some aggravation. He winced at the resulting burst of irritation from Avril, but made no attempt to pretend a remorse he didn't feel. There wasn't much point—lying this way was impossible, and he was definitely not sorry for his annoyance. Avril was far too concerned about his emotional state.
He turned his attention to the woman and horse in front of him. Faye was wearing the same outfit that she'd changed into yesterday—rusty brown pants, green-and-beige shirt, and a forest green jacket. If she slipped into the woods surrounding them, she could indeed disappear. He gave his head a quick side-to-side shake. That was ridiculous. People didn't go around disappearing, not even someone like Faye. That was a myth, just like the myths about Wizards, and Ayaldwodes, and Alchemists and missions.
So, why was he starting to believe them? Kent watched Faye duck to avoid a tree branch, almost forgetting to do so himself. She was so graceful, her body swayed so naturally on the horse, and she looked so much at home out here that she could indeed be a wood sprite. And, unfortunately, he had all the qualifications for Wizardhood. As much as he hated to admit it, she'd even been accurate this morning. He'd had a number of casual encounters with women, and he couldn't put a face to one of them. As a matter of fact, he could hardly recall his ex-wife's features, either. Not surprising—he'd made a concerted effort to forget that whole mess. The familiar cloud of guilt and remorse settled over him, and he shoved it away. "You don't beat yourself up about the past," Dan had advised. "You learn from it, and put it aside."
Kent had learned from it. He'd learned that "forever" was a concept that was completely beyond him. That might make him something of a jerk, but it certainly didn't mean he was a Wizard.
Faye's horse stopped abruptly, catching both Kent and his mount totally by surprise. The gelding veered to the left to avoid a collision, and Kent almost slipped off. He instinctively tightened his thighs around the animal and watched Faye look up into the sky. She turned two wide, worried eyes toward him. "The helicopter!"
"Get down!" Kent ordered. He leapt to the ground before Kalli had come to a halt, and streaked toward Faye, concerned that she would panic and reveal their presence.
She slid gracefully off her horse, her head still cocked to listen. Although the pulse on her neck fluttered furiously, she didn't appear to be panicking. "They can't see us in here, can they?" she whispered.
"Nope," he said in a normal tone. "And they can't hear us, either." He drew her down to sit under a canopy of trees. "Come to think of it, I can't hear them."
"listen," she told him.
He did. Moments later, he heard the faint whop-whop, and squeezed an arm around her shoulder. "Just sit still," he warned.
"What about the horses?"
The animals had wandered slightly away from them, and were eagerly munching at the ground. Kent tried to picture how the scene would look from above. "They shouldn't be able to see them, either," he concluded. "Even if they can, a couple of horses wandering around won't tell them anything." He listened to the rushing sounds of the flowing water. "How close are we to the river crossing?"
Faye pressed her ear against his chest. "Not far."
"Do the trees grow right up to the riverbank?"
"Yes."
"And on the other side?"
She thought about it for a moment, then shook her silver-blond head. "Not quite. There's about a hundred meters before the forest begins again." She trembled as the helicopter noises grew louder.
"It's okay," Kent soothed. He caressed her jacketed arm, then impulsively nuzzled his fingers underneath, across the smooth flesh of her abdomen. She released a small, purring moan of pleasure and he felt the tension leave her body. Well, well, he thought with supreme satisfaction. That was one way to keep her from panicking. His own body gave a kick start of recognition, and he held in a sigh. The trouble with this method was that it distracted him, as well.
And why shouldn't it? He had perfect recall of the night before! As a matter of fact, he was tempted to ignore the danger above them, push her sweet, soft body into the leaves, and make darn sure she remembered it, too!
He leaned back to rest his head against a tree trunk. The foliage was so dense here that only a few dappled splashes of sun managed to get through. There was no way those helicopter idiots could see them, and he was confident they would soon go away. And when they did, he'd take Faye across the river, and into cover again, just in case. Then they'd make it to the neighbor's house, and get some help. He desperately wanted to be out of here, and back into the familiarity of civilization, where Faye's fairy tales would no longer seem so believable.
The helicopter was almost directly above them now. As Faye stiffened beside him, he inched his thumb up to touch her breast and she moaned deliciously. Kent clenched his teeth at his own rush of desire. He'd told her the truth this morning—that there was no way he'd forget her as he had others. Those depths of passion, her flowing, liquid response, and the sense of contentment afterward were etched in his memory. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to be with her, to listen to her strange views of the world, to mold her body with his, to watch her eat and sleep and do all the normal things that she somehow made so enchanting.
But it would end. like she said, they had only a short time together. That idea caused an unexpected sense of bereavement. Get a grip, MacIntyre, he ordered himself. He was just uncomfortable with
her suggestions that they were heading toward a conclusion he couldn't control. She was wrong about that, just as she was wrong about him being a Wizard. No one was going to disappear. They'd take care of Collingswood, then spend a week or so someplace very private. He relaxed back as he made that decision. After a couple of weeks, he'd be over this infatuation, and she probably would, as well. Their affair would end as his others had, with a touch of regret and a whole lot of relief.
But first, they had to get out of this mess. He listened to the helicopter sounds receding, removed his hand from Faye's warm breast, and straightened. "Listen, babe, as soon as that helicopter is gone, I want you to get across the river and into the trees as fast as you can. Don't wait for me."
She lifted her lashes and looked at him with heavy-lidded, luminous eyes. "What?"
"I want you to get across the river. If that chopper comes back, I'll—"
"But we have to cross together," she said blankly.
"Yes, but you go first and—"
"No, Kent." She pulled away from him, her brow wrinkling along with her nose. "We have to be on the same horse."
Kent sensed another Ayaldwode fable was imminent. "Is this something to do with Wizards?"
"Yes."
"Can't we forget that stuff? I want you to—"
"We can't forget it!" she insisted with some alarm. "It's water, Kent. Running water."
Kent listened to the sounds of the river and nodded. "You're right on that count, but…"
She heaved a huge, impatient sigh. "Wizards don't like water. They can't control it."
Kent lowered his head and rubbed the prickle on the back of his neck. He really wished she'd stop doing this.
"You can't, can you?" Faye demanded.
"No," he admitted. "My telekinesis doesn't work on water. But so what? I don't want to move it, I just want to ride a horse through it."
Faye clasped his hand between her two palms. "It's running water. It will drain your strength if you cross it alone."
At last! A Wizard characteristic he didn't share! "No, it won't," he said gently.
"Yes, it will, Kent! You should know this! You must have crossed running water before!"
