Taming the Hunter

by Michele Hauf

  She pointed to the dagger, which was levitating over the bed behind Dane’s shoulder. He spun and grabbed the hilt, but he had to slap another hand onto the blade, as if it were trying to move without his volition. “Get out!” he shouted.

  Eryss wasn’t a stupid witch. She fled the room, plucking up her coat and gloves from the floor as she did so. “Call me,” she said from the hallway, “when you get that thing properly warded!”

  Chapter 18

  Dane clasped the dagger to his chest, eyes closed, listening intently to Eryss’s footsteps fading down the outer hallway. The blade felt on fire, as if pulled from the forge, yet it didn’t burn his skin. It couldn’t. It was just another vision or strange magic that was making him want to run after her and—

  “No,” he said in a hoarse gasp. A witch hunter? “I can’t be. This is insane.”

  He thrust the baselard away from him, and it landed on the corner of the bed. Cruel winter sunlight glanced off the blade, which flashed as if it were the sun itself. Dane hurriedly picked up the weapon and slammed it into the box, replacing the cover.

  “It’s not true,” he said aloud. “It’s probably enchanted. Things like that happen all the time with the weapons I take into the lab. They can make normal men do strange and mysterious things.”

  Yeah. That was it. Of course it had to be enchanted, perhaps to track witches. How else could the witch hunter have found them? Had the dagger recognized Eryss as a witch? Was that the reason it had levitated, almost as if in wait for someone to take it in hand and—

  “No,” he insisted, squelching those irrational thoughts. “Stay cool about this. Think like the scientist you are. Don’t let your heart start edging in and messing everything up.”

  Had he just admitted that to himself? Because his heart had started to interfere, and he wasn’t sure how that would change things. It shouldn’t matter. He could have a relationship with a woman and remain logical and do his job at the same time.

  But everything was different with Eryss. Even after having known her such a short time. Now he was thinking that his heart had intruded on his work when...

  “Maybe it’s the other way around?” He shoved a hand through his hair and studied the dagger he’d hastily shoved into the box. It was the catalyst to the mistrust he and Eryss had developed lately. It had to be.

  So he’d keep his hands off the thing, and as soon as he returned to California, he’d make sure it was dewarded or disenchanted. The Agency employed people who could do things like that.

  Dane paced before the bed. He had to go to Eryss. Make sure she was all right. The levitating dagger would have freaked out anyone. But first he had to ensure it wouldn’t cause any more issues between them. What to do?

  Suddenly he remembered there was a UPS store just a few blocks from the hotel. Harold Stuart might have been reluctant to ship the blade, but Dane wasn’t. If packaged properly, it would be fine. He’d send the dagger on its way now, and catch up to it when he got home.

  * * *

  Trying to focus on the soup simmering in the copper pot before her was impossible. Eryss felt sure she’d dumped in far too much oregano, and she now tried to spoon the floating green herbs out for fear that all her chopping of carrots, celery and zucchini would be wasted.

  Setting down the spoon, she raced upstairs to the closet and looked over her crystal collection. The rainbow fluorite was perfect for mental acuity. She snatched it and whispered an intention to imbue the stone with power, then tucked it in her skirt pocket. Calmly, she walked back down to the kitchen and decided the soup would be perfect.

  As would everything else in her life. The brewery was running smoothly. The glass in the conservatory was holding well and would continue to do so until she could call in a repairman in the spring. Her health was excellent. And her love life...

  With the wooden spoon, she poked at a chunk of mushy tomato. What about her love life and its incredibly dangerous attachment to someone who was very possibly a witch hunter? A witch hunter who didn’t even know he was one.

  And yet, his dagger knew.

  * * *

  The knock on the door chattered against the wood. Eryss could practically hear the rattling of a freezing scientist from California’s bones in that knock. She rushed to open it and pulled Dane inside, going in for a kiss right away. His lips were cold, and she could feel his cold leather gloves snake around her waist through her long sweater. It gave her a good shiver and she snuggled in tighter against him, deepening the kiss until she forgot everything except how nice it was to stand in Dane’s arms and lose herself.

  He shed his coat and dropped it behind him without breaking the kiss. His hands, now gloveless, curved over her hips and cupped her derriere, pulling her up until she stood on her tiptoes. When he performed a dexterous lift and carried her over to the table, again without breaking the kiss, she cheered inwardly. He set her on the butcher-block surface, which did finally break their contact.

  Eryss leaned forward to tickle his upper lip with her tongue, and she giggled.

  “Someone happy to see me?”

  “You have to wonder?” she asked.

  “After what happened in my hotel room, I wasn’t sure I should show my face again.”

  Now she pulled her skirt up to her knees and wrapped her legs about his hips, pulling him in close. “I’m not afraid of what you don’t understand. And that’s all there is to it. Are you hungry? I’ve made minestrone.”

  “It smells delicious. I love oregano.”

  Half an hour later Eryss patted herself on the back for not freaking out over the extra oregano. And the spice was an aphrodisiac, so everything had worked out perfectly. As Dane handed her the last bowl—he’d offered to wash the dishes again—she dried it and set it in the cupboard. This weird domesticity felt comfortable. Like she’d done it before.

  And she knew that she had.

  “So is this a lifetime pursuit, your job?” Eryss asked as she set the last glass on the counter and started to wipe up around the sink.

  “Protecting us humans from the knowledge that vampires and werewolves live among us?” Dane nodded, but then quickly followed with a shrug. “I’m not sure I’ve thought as far ahead as my whole lifetime. I like doing it right now. It’s interesting. It feeds my need for using scientific protocol to confirm or deny truths. It allows me to travel across the United States as I’m sent out to retrieve weapons.”

  “What does a promotion look like? Vampire slayer?” Eryss cautioned herself from saying witch hunter, but she was certainly thinking it.

  “There’s the Order of the Stake for that. I’m not a hunter, Eryss. I am a protector.”

  “I get that.” She folded the dish towel over the edge of the sink and turned to face him. “I suppose having grown up without your father, you were compelled to protect your mother?”

  “Yes and no. Lillian Winthur is the epitome of an independent woman. She doesn’t need anyone to protect her. In fact, I would send out a warning to the next man who attempts to approach her with the misplaced fantasy of playing the rescuing knight to her not-in-distress damsel.”

  “A real tough cookie?”

  “Strong. Smart. And she knows what she wants. Like you.” But his smile wasn’t completely there. He was likely trying to figure out if his comparing her to his mother had offended her.

  “My mother was much the same, but she adored my dad.”

  Dane leaned in and kissed Eryss gently on the lips. He bowed his forehead to hers. “Sometimes life steals the good ones too quickly.”

  “Did you contact Harold again?”

  “Yes. If I can get him out for a steak and beer I’ll be able to pick his brain. He wants to see me again, as well. Harold has his ideas about the dagger.”

  “Such as?”

  Dane waggled a finger at her. “I don’t want to go there tonight. I came here to escape that thing between us and just enjoy you. Can we do that?”

  It sounded too good to work, but
she wanted that, too. She nodded.

  “Let’s make love out in the conservatory,” he suggested, grasping her hand and leading the way. “I need a nature recharge after scraping ice crystals from the car windshield.”

  Eryss spun around in front of him and danced into the conservatory, delighted as her toes hit the grass. “You get the right outerwear and you’ll begin to marvel over nature’s beauty. But I won’t hold it against you.”

  “For an earth witch, I’d suspect winter to be a cruel and heartless season for you. Why don’t you live somewhere warm where you can put your toes in the sand or grass all year round?”

  Eryss looked down at her feet, nestled in the lush grass, and gave him an innocent shrug.

  “Right. All hail your witchy magic. I want to know more, but right now all I want to do is kiss those toes that are wiggling in the grass.”

  And he dropped to his knees and lifted one of her feet, planting a warm, lingering kiss on top. Eryss managed to sit on the edge of the couch while he kissed her foot. The lash of his tongue along her arch disturbed her in an achingly delicious way. She’d never thought a foot could be sexy. But having a man trace his tongue along its structure? Mercy.

  As he kissed her ankle bone, his hand glided up under her skirt. He drew circles behind her knee and, with one goodbye kiss to her foot, moved up, pushing aside the fabric to deliver another of those devastating kisses to the inside of her knee. Eryss let her body fall back onto the couch, moaning as she did so.

  “You know all my spots,” she said on a sigh.

  “Your erogenous zones?”

  “Mmm...”

  “I know you have one right here.” His tongue tickled an X on the inside of her thigh. “And here.” He lifted her leg and delivered a kiss to the back of her other knee. He sat before the couch, on the grass, her legs bracketing his head. He sprinkled kisses along her thighs until she giggled, and he had to grip her firmly to keep her from squirming away.

  But she didn’t want to get away from him. If anything, she wanted to dive inside him and grasp that tendril of remembrance he couldn’t seem to connect to, and draw it up and into reality.

  And then she had an idea.

  “Let’s go upstairs,” she said, pulling her leg free from his wicked torture, standing up and starting toward the doors.

  “But I thought—?”

  “Trust me!” she called.

  * * *

  Entering the bedroom behind her, Dane pulled off his shirt and unzipped his pants, watching Eryss light pink and black candles around the bed. Then she lit the incense in a copper pan—a ritual he didn’t question now. It was just her manner, and the way she lived. He actually liked the mood it gave the room.

  Sitting on the bed, he nodded toward the iPod and Eryss shook her head. “No music tonight. I want to try something. If you’re willing?”

  Coming from any other woman, that would probably imply a new sex position. Coming from a witch, Dane knew he had best be wary. But he trusted her, and wanted further entrance into her wild and mysterious world.

  As she began to pour pink salt around the bed, he pulled up his feet. “A spell circle?” he guessed. “Is tonight the night you bewitch me then?”

  She finished the circle, then set the empty salt jar aside. Pulling off her dress and sweater, she approached the incense to stand not over it, but beside it. Pink smoke curled across her pale skin.

  “Are you willing to step into the past with me?”

  “You mean like a past life regression? I thought you couldn’t do that yourself?”

  “I can’t. But a little sex magic might enhance the charm and get us both there.”

  “Seriously?” He wasn’t sure if he should be excited or nervous.

  She stepped over the salt line and climbed onto the bed, kissing him and running her palm up his chest. “Together, as we indulge in one another, we might be able to share memories and experiences from the past. If we truly were lovers, it might come through for us. It won’t hurt. In fact, all we have to do is make love.”

  He stroked the hair from her cheek and lingered, brushing his fingers over her skin. In the course of a week he’d gone from a scientist who knew better than to get involved with the paranormal entities that he knew existed—wisely standing aside and witnessing—to a lovesick fool who spread his arms wide and welcomed in the weirdness with rapidly waning caution.

  “Speak your spell,” he said, leaning in to kiss her. “Enchant me, witch. Bring me into your world.”

  “Repeat after me,” she said, as she turned to sit before him. She took his hands and brought them before her, and he followed by cupping her breasts and kissing the back of her shoulder. “Yes, stay in the mood. All love shared will only enhance the spell. Infero.”

  He knew that meant enter. “Infero,” he repeated.

  The incense smoke increased and wafted over the bed, coiling about their embrace in a violet curl. An inhalation infused Dane’s senses with sage, salt and oranges. Eryss rapidly recited a few more words, in a low tone so he couldn’t follow and repeat them, but he understood that he didn’t have to. Then she stretched out her hands, tracing a design in the air that the smoke seemed to fill in, until it looked a little like the om symbol he was familiar with.

  Dane wanted her all over him, on him, kissing him. He slid his hand between her legs and she gasped at his gentle intrusion. She spread her knees and leaned back against him. He tenderly touched her swollen clit and traced his fingers down the sides of her labia. She clutched at his thighs, gasping. Her breasts rose as she panted rapidly.

  And the sensation of the sheets beneath him changed in a subtle way. Rougher, perhaps a different weave, like primitive linen...the woman on top of him cooed and her body shook so her long red hair spilled over his face, and he inhaled cool summer scents of grass and earth. He couldn’t see her face. The change didn’t disturb him so much as welcome him to continue, to explore, to kiss her freckled shoulder.

  And when she lowered herself onto his erection, he hissed in pleasure.

  “My love,” she said, in a voice he hadn’t heard before, but instinctually recognized.

  “Alexandra,” he said. “You have me for all the days and nights to come.”

  She laughed lightly as her rhythm increased. “You are a fantastical man, Ivor. Mmm, but I cannot imagine a day without you at my side. Or inside me.”

  And she leaned over him, hugging him as he thrust deeply within her, feeding the coming release, racing to the climax. Wanting to fill her, to put life there in her womb and begin the family they so desperately craved.

  “To family,” he said, as the climax overwhelmed him and his body shuddered beneath hers. He shouted out and clutched her forearms as he rode the intense pleasure. Incense coiled into his senses. He opened his eyes. “Eryss...”

  “Dane,” she whispered, and placed his hand over her breast. “Ivor. We are one...”

  * * *

  Her husband lay beneath her, shuddering in exquisite release, but she did not stop her motion, riding him faster, driving his hard shaft in and out and rubbing it hard against her pleasure peak. She would find that great release, as well. His body flexed in the candlelight, and the pine wreath hanging over the small window tainted their musky union with a piercing sharpness. He pinched her nipple, and that moment she sought erupted within her. As she cried out and spread her arms wide to allow the universe to join in the divine moment of ecstasy, she looked at her lover.

  So many centuries lived in his irises. Multitude embraces met with kisses and hugs and unbridled sex. Dark stubble on his jaw matched the midnight curls that tickled the pillowcase. And with a glint of moonlight, she inhaled the smoky taint of cherrywood tobacco.

  “Jean-Philippe,” she said with a giggle, because he made that wrinkle-nosed smirk. “You are not finished?”

  “Making love to you?” He tugged her down and rolled her to her back. Plush gold chiffon pillows tumbled over her face, but he pushed them away and kiss
ed her quickly. “I’m only getting started!”

  And he glided his tongue down her throat and between her breasts. He did not kiss her there, which made her wiggle in a pleading request, but he waggled a finger as he moved lower and then kissed her again and again and again at the peak of her blond curls. He knew she loved it when he suckled her there, but the man was such a tease, there were times she almost couldn’t bear it.

  As his tongue touched the apex of her inner folds, she gasped and tilted back her head. The sky was black, save for a glitter of stars, and the tiny apartment in Paris was suddenly clouded with red smoke that smelled of sage.

  Violet waved her hand through the smoke, but then realized what was happening. She had not spoken a spell—but someone had. And she was not frightened, for deep in her soul she knew this was only a glimpse from another lifetime. And her attention focused inward as every lash of Jean-Philippe’s tongue seemed to tighten her muscles more and dare her to surrender to orgasm.

  Inhaling a breath of incense, she went deep and... Eryss glided her hand through Dane’s thick hair as he kissed her and tasted her.

  “Violet,” Dane whispered, and when he looked at her his eyes smiled as widely as hers. “Eryss.”

  “Dane,” she answered, bringing her lover up to nuzzle alongside her.

  She hadn’t orgasmed, and sensed the spell was weakening. And while she didn’t want to return to her current body, she relented just as Dane filled her with his hot, thrusting cock. And the molten presence of him, in the now, looking like the man she’d met days earlier, anchored her and at the same time released her to fly.

  They came together, bodies shaking and breaths roughly gasping over skin.

  Dane rolled over in the bed and pulled Eryss up against his stomach and thighs. He smelled like life, sweet, sweaty and soft. He nuzzled her hair and whispered, “Here’s to soul mates.”

  * * *

  Eryss leaned over the side of the bed and broke the salt circle with a slash of her fingers through the pink crystals. The room seemed to briefly sigh, the bed shuddered subtly on the floorboards, then all fell silent save for Dane’s soft breaths. He’d fallen asleep and she intended to let him rest. They’d had quite an experience.