White Fire: Timewalker Chronicles, Book 5

by Michele Callahan

  He dropped to his knees, but did not cover her as she’d hoped. He knelt at her feet and reached for the last barrier between them, the thin peach-colored piece of satin and lace that covered her. She lifted her hips and he slid the material down her legs slowly, as if unwrapping a present. When he dropped them, forgotten on the floor she lay on her back and hid nothing, placing her body on display, a blatant invitation.

  He groaned and leaned over to kiss the inside of her ankle, trailed his lips up her leg to her knee and pushed her legs apart. He moved between them as he tasted the top of her thigh. He cupped her ass with his hands and nuzzled her core with his lips and tongue, just a taste, just long enough to make her lose her mind. She buried her hands in his hair and held on, tugging on him, urging him to continue his journey, to taste the rest of her. Emma captured him as he’d earlier held her, in silent demand.

  He complied and traced the curve of her hip with the tip of his tongue, nibbled at her ribs with small kisses. He kept one hand under her ass, the other he lifted and his palm explored her hip and waist, then kneaded one breast as he finally took the other into his mouth.

  God, she was on fire. Everywhere. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but arch into his mouth and whimper his name. “Ajax.”

  The insistent tugging at her breast ceased and she felt bereft for a heartbeat until he resumed the sweet torture on the other side. He still knelt between her knees, his stance wide enough to balance most of his weight as he leaned over her much shorter frame. But there was nowhere for her legs to go except up and over his thighs. It left her spread before him like a feast, completely open. Utterly wanton.

  She wanted more. She was burning up, hurting and needy, desperate for another taste of him. She needed all of him, his taste in her mouth, his hot flesh pressing her into the rug, and his hard cock filling her.

  Lifting her head and tugging on his face with her hands, she pulled him up into a kiss and nearly wept with relief when he settled his body over her, his rock-hard erection nudging her core in a teasing dance, always hovering at the edge, never filling her up, never giving her what she needed.

  “Please.” So much for not begging. She didn’t care. She was beyond caring.

  “Not yet.” He kissed her harder, deeper, his mouth taking complete control as he lifted himself just enough to move the hand that had been massaging her ass up over her hip and then down, to her core. A soft sob left her when his fingers found her and he groaned.

  “So wet.”

  “Please.” She pushed against his hand, wrapped her legs around his hips and shifted beneath him, trying to force him to touch her, to enter her, to fill her.

  Two fingers, a slow glide as he finally filled her, that was all it took. She shattered in his arms, her body no longer her own as in that moment she gave it to him.

  His tongue invaded her mouth and she opened for him in every way, denied him nothing and held nothing back. She had no fear. She wasn’t going to bleed, wasn’t going to hurt. No one lived as long as she had without exploring their own body and tending their own needs.

  But God, this was so much better than any self-induced orgasm. More intense. More. Just more.

  His hand left her and she locked her legs around his hips. She needed him inside her. Now.

  Shifting until she felt the tip of his cock right where she needed it, she flexed her legs, pulling herself up onto him when he didn’t fill her fast enough.

  His kiss turned frantic and he finally gave in, pinning her with his hips to the hard floor and she lost control as another orgasm screamed through her with no warning. She couldn’t breathe and tore her mouth from his, turned her head to the side to attempt to catch her breath because he wasn’t done with her.

  Then he moved. Withdrew. Pushed into her again. He dropped his face to the curve of her neck and locked on to the tender skin with his lips, sucked on the sensitive skin, tasting her as he pumped into her body, tilted his hips so his abdomen pressed and rubbed her most sensitive spot while the sensation of being stretched, filled pushed her into another orgasm.

  Her inner muscles clamped and pulsed around his cock and he froze, every spectacular muscle she explored in his chest and back rigid as he tried to hold back…and failed.

  He moaned her name and she tilted her pelvis to take him even deeper as the pulsation of his release moving through her core triggered her already swollen heat to clamp down even harder around his cock. He shifted, one move over her clit, and she came again.

  They both lay still. Spent. And she found herself unwilling to release him from her hold. He rested on top of her, his face still nestled at her neck, the soft brush of his lips lingering in soft kisses pressed to her skin with something that felt suspiciously close to tenderness. He held most of his weight on his forearms and she was grateful, the hard floor at her back an as unyielding as the massive male who lay over her.

  But she wasn’t ready to let him go and he made no move to leave her embrace. She held him to her, legs wrapped around his hips, arms around his shoulders. She didn’t even try to resist the impulse to pet him, to allow her touch to linger on his back and shoulders, to soak up every sensation, every single second of the experience that she could.

  This was the bar, the standard of bliss against which all future lovers would be measured. She entertained the idea of taking him with her to the shower for more. God she wanted more.

  The rippling muscles in his back lay docile and accepting of her caress. He was like a tamed tiger under her hands, all power and darkness, heat and safety. If she were with him, nothing would ever hurt her, nothing would ever touch her, no Triscani would ever threaten her. He made her feel safe. And wanton. And deliciously feminine.

  He stirred against her, his lips traveling up to reclaim her mouth as she felt his cock swell where it remained deep inside her.

  Kissing him back, she moaned, and arched her back, invited him to take her again. He moved, just a slight thrust of his hips and she gasped into his mouth. God, nothing had ever felt like this. So good. So right.

  Emma wrapped her arms around him to hold him close and made some demands of her own. She’d tasted the exquisite bliss of being claimed by him. She wasn’t ready to give it up, especially now that she knew no other male was ever going to measure up.

  Chapter Twelve

  Ajax tried, in vain, to pay attention to the warriors seated all around him. The odd human construct known as Carhenge was detailed on maps and satellite imagery spread out over the surface of Teagh and Katherine’s kitchen table. The replica of England’s famous Stonehenge stood surrounded by farmers’ fields in Nebraska and was made from of old human automobiles painted gray to match the standing stones. The vehicles were positioned to copy the actual stones, even the broken and scattered pieces.

  “Stupid place for an invasion.” Teagh leaned on the table, both palms flat and his black warrior’s uniform stretched over his bulk. “Why not drop into the middle of New York or L.A.? Somewhere with millions of people and even more places to hide.”

  “I think it’s brilliant.” Emma twisted her head to look at the map. Her hair, still damp from her shower, a shower she’d taken without him, hung dark and beautiful framing the pale skin of her face. She wore stretchy dark pants that hugged every delectable curve of her ass and a simple cream-colored T-shirt that failed to completely cover the dark brown straps of her bra. Chocolate against her skin. It was damn distracting.

  And if Nico didn’t stop staring at the female, he was going to punch that Darkwalker right in the face. Maybe even in the middle of his next sentence… “I think Emma’s right. It makes a twisted kind of sense. No one would ever look there. It’s isolated, privately owned, closed at night, and it’s capable of channeling the goddess’s power.”

  Bran stood, brooding. “I don’t like it. The nearest town, Alliance, only has about eight thousand humans.”

  “It’s enough. Most of the Triscani won’t need to devour any energy f
or a while, perhaps weeks. Many of us would go months between…” Nico’s voice trailed off and the weight of the ensuing silence reminded Ajax why they were all here in the first place. The Triscani devoured anyone and everything they came into contact with. Man, woman, child. Human or Itaran. It didn’t matter. And an unknown number of the monsters, perhaps thousands, were going to step from a Gate tomorrow night.

  “Where’s Robbie?” Raiden looked around the room, his petite Marked Mate, Mari, glued to his side, as usual.

  Robbie, or Robert, was cousin to Teagh’s Marked Mate, Katherine, and he not only had command of the Gates, he was the voice of the goddess. He’d volunteered for the spot when the goddess had taken Katherine’s female form as her own, an act that would have separated Katherine from the male she loved forever.

  “No one can find him. Not even my boys. They’re pretty worried about him.” Katherine spoke up. She was their link to the human’s military arm, the Casper Project, where Robert was serving with a group of elite soldiers and people with extraordinary gifts. Katherine had been among their ranks a few weeks ago. Then she’d stumbled upon a Black Gate, opened it, and unleashed a very angry goddess. The divine feminine had been ignored for centuries, starved and betrayed by the Itaran Queen. And she was determined to set things right…even if it meant a few million humans or Triscani had to be “reclaimed”, as she referred to it.

  Bran and Teagh had explained the truth. Reclaimed meant dead. Energy recycled by the goddess herself. It was the reason the sons of the Queen’s line had been cursed with their dark power. When the Queen of Itara didn’t keep her bargain with the goddess, didn’t take her son to the Gate to receive a soul stone and the goddess’s blessing, the Triscani had been born. The forbidden sons, cursed with an attraction to and ability to absorb evil, absorb another living being’s soul and leave behind nothing but ash, went insane. Their gift was meant to feed power to the Gates, to keep the world safe, and to recycle evil. But with no soul stones, the malevolence the forbidden sons absorbed from others had nowhere to go. It soaked into their own souls, driving them mad, making them thirst for more and more.

  Now thousands of soul-stealing Triscani were set to arrive on Earth, in the middle of nowhere Nebraska, surround by corn fields and dirt. Alliance, Nebraska, the small town that was host to Carhenge, was more than two hundred miles from the nearest city of any size. Denver, Colorado, a city with a metropolitan population of around two million, would be the most likely magnet for any Triscani that might escape. They’d be drawn to the energy and life pulsing through a city of that size. They’d be drawn to the dirty bowels of the city, to the slums and the places where evil hid from view. The scent of it would tease them as effectively as holding fresh meat in front of a hungry lion.

  If the Triscani escaped the wretchedly small group of individuals in this room, they’d head for people, for a source of energy to feed their relentless hunger. Once they reached Denver, they’d begin to scatter and spread over the entire Earth. Tracking them down would be tough work for the few warriors standing before him. Finding all of the escaped monsters might take centuries. And they would have to find them all, they couldn’t leave the human population unprotected.

  Hopefully, the Earthbound Itaran Triads wouldn’t be happy about Triscani roaming freely either. Those bastards were evil, but they weren’t crazy. The Triscani would be a threat to everyone on Earth, including the criminals that the Itarans exiled here.

  “So where is he?” Teagh stood next to Katherine, the proprietary grip of his hand around her waist natural. She accepted her Mate’s touch without thought or debate. In fact, the tall female leaned into Teagh’s body and pressed herself to his side. Claimed him in front of everyone, while Emma stood across the table from Ajax, sandwiched between Nicodemus and another Darkwalker male, and acted like he hadn’t just had his cock in her body and his tongue in her mouth. Acted like Nicodemus was her friend and Ajax a stranger.

  It was driving him fucking insane. And he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. He’d made his decision. He was a future King of Itara. A male whose birth had been prophesized and predestined. An Immortal. She was human. The Itarans would never accept a human from Earth as their Queen. Never. The whole idea of accepting her Mark was ludicrous. It went against everything he’d ever believed about his birthright and his destiny.

  And it left a huge gaping hole in his chest that ached for her. For her sweet sighs and her soft body, for the gasping cries she made when he took her, and the way her small hands had run over his body after. By the gods, he’d never felt so content. So…tamed. If she’d asked him to go kill a bear with a pocket knife, he would have done it for her. He would have done anything. And if she’d given him her Mark again? He might have taken it and damn the consequences.

  But she hadn’t. The arousing heat of her Mark had not rolled through him again. Even without it, he’d have killed for her. Brought her the bear’s carcass and taken her body again in reward. His cock grew hard at the thought.

  What would it be like to take her heat and fire as a Marked Mate? He had to shut down the thought before it took root.

  The damn female was dangerous.

  And Bran, that arrogant ass, leaned back in one of the many folding chairs they’d brought in and raised an eyebrow at Ajax, his words echoing clearly through Ajax’s head as Nicodemus stepped minutely closer to Emma, his predator’s gaze alert and protective.

  He wanted to strangle the male, but he had no right. He had no fucking right to care at all. “Snooze you lose.”

  Fuck you, Bran.

  Now the males gathered, ten strong, and tried to figure out how they were going to defeat thousands of Triscani, protect the Timewalkers, and maintain their sanity. Aron, his twin brother. Bran, the Archiver. Teagh, Guardian of the Gate. Raiden, a half-blood forbidden son from one hundred and fifty years in the future. Ajax himself, the Lost King and forbidden son, destined King of Itara. And Nicodemus and his four Darkwalker brothers. Ten.

  And a handful of extremely powerful and stubborn females. Human females. One of which he couldn’t take his eyes off of for more than a count of twenty, even when he tried. Visions of Nicodemus touching her drove him to distraction. Eventually, he stopped trying to pretend disinterest and watched every single move the Darkwalker male made.

  Emma crossed her arms, her face an unreadable mask, but fact, not fear in her tone. “I can’t ash them all. According to Nicodemus and Raiden, you guys can only take on one, maybe two at a time without getting ashed yourselves. Without Robbie, even being there is suicidal.”

  “He’ll be there.” Celestina walked into the room and Bran’s self-satisfied grin fell from his face to make way for one of great irritation. Ajax smiled. He couldn’t hold back the rush of satisfaction seeing Bran’s frustration gave him.

  “How did you get here?” Oh, yes, his dear friend was going to have that female eating out of the palm of his hand in no time speaking to her like that.

  “It’s of no consequence.” Celestina and Emma shared a look, and Ajax wondered what else had transpired between the two females this morning, and if it had anything to do with the soul stone Emma now wore anchored in a piece of jewelry around her neck. “Robert will be present for the real battle.”

  Celestina walked to Nicodemus and held out her small hand. She looked childlike next to the Darkwalker. “I’m Celestina. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Nicodemus. I trust Elijah is doing well?”

  Nicodemus took a knee in front of the Seer. All of the Darkwalkers did, dropped like stones. “My lady.”

  That was new. His gaze darted to Bran, who looked equally confused. Even Aron, his brother, a prince of Itara, was on his knee. As was Raiden, who rubbed at his chest and looked shocked.

  Celestina blushed. “Please don’t.”

  Nicodemus remained on his knee before her. “Is it not the custom to greet an Angelus Mortis with deference and respect? Were we gone in the forbidden kingdom for so long that your gift
is no longer sacred among our people?”

  Bran leapt to his feet as soon as the words Angelus Mortis left Nicodemus’s mouth.

  Celestina ignored him as Raiden spoke to the Seer. “Why didn’t I feel this before?”

  “Feel what?” Bran took a couple steps to his right so he could see Celestina’s face instead of the back of her head. It wasn’t Celestina, but Raiden who answered his question.

  “She burns, Bran. With Angel’s Fire.” Raiden rose slowly, his gaze locked on Celestina. “Why didn’t I feel it before?”

  The Seer sighed, and the sound was resigned, not happy. “The goddess calls us all to this fight, Raiden. I am not the only one you are sensing in this room.”

  The males on their knees all froze, searching inward to confirm Celestina’s claims. When Nicodemus opened his eyes, he twisted his body to kneel at Emma’s feet, and bowed his head respectfully to Mari as well.

  Ajax felt nothing, and it made him angry. “Why don’t I feel anything?”

  She looked first at Bran, then Ajax. “Because you are not forbidden sons.”

  A knot of apprehension twisted in Ajax’s chest. “I am, and feel nothing unusual.”

  Celestina’s sad eyes looked at him with something close to pity. “That is because you reject the gifts the goddess has given you. You remain a prisoner of the dark.”

  “I asked for a soul stone. I knelt at the feet of the goddess and begged.”

  The Seer’s glacier blue eyes pierced his soul. “You knelt at the wrong pair of feet.”

  Ajax looked to Bran for an explanation, for help translating Celestina’s words, but as he looked around he realized they were the only two males in the room still standing. Even Teagh knelt, but Ajax assumed he’d known because he was connected to the goddess herself through his link to the Gate.

  And Emma? Emma was surrounded, five Darkwalkers paying homage, their position and deference a vow to protect and serve unto death the very female whose Mark he’d refused.