Trent: Her Warlock Protector Book 7

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Trent: Her Warlock Protector Book 7 Page 4

by Hunter, Hazel


  Maybe if Vulcan and Birmingham could rebuild themselves so well, maybe Elaine could too.

  If I ever get the courage to leave here and Moundville behind that is.

  “You’re so quiet,” Trent said as they sat on the grass near the closed exhibit. “You were talking a mile a minute at dinner, and now I feel like I have a master’s in psychology too.”

  She swallowed heavily and looked away. “Sorry, I get into my research and I talk a lot.”

  “No, it was nice. I’ve seen the farm side and now the nerd side. I wonder if there’s anything else about you that I should know.”

  Her throat felt dry then and her heartbeat was hammering so loudly in her ears she missed whatever he said next. He must not have seen her in the woods that day. Elaine had tried the same spell all over again and woken up, thank the goddess, in her apartment, but she’d had no real answers for what had happened to her. She had heard the legends from her people about skinwalking, the ability of some Medicine People to use a totem or fur from an animal to become them, but that wasn’t supposed to be the spell she was working with. It was only supposed to help her work with controlling her influence over animals.

  And yet the wolf’s tooth had been there, been the new key element.

  But she couldn’t tell him. He’d never understand this freak side to her, so she desperately floundered for a new topic.

  “Maybe a little. My father’s Muskogee from Moundville.”

  “Is that the tribe there?”

  She nodded and took his offered hand, enjoying the warmth she found within.

  “Yeah, but my mom is white, so it’s always been hard. I never felt like I fit. Besides my first boyfriend was a total disaster. I was so dumb, but I was sixteen, so who isn’t?”

  Trent chuckled, something deep and throaty that made her stomach flare with heat. “I used to be the wild child. I was this little punk in Brooklyn boosting cars. I think making one bad love connection isn’t so bad.”

  “Anyway, the Chief’s son convinced me we could be secret boyfriend and girlfriend. We were like that for six months, and I just let him hide me. Then his friends found out he was with the ‘half-breed’ and they… I haven’t felt welcome there since, not that I was before. No one wants their dirty little secrets public, especially the next chief.”

  “That’s terrible,” he said, squeezing her hand. She looked up and stared into those odd, tawny eyes. She would have sworn they had looked on her with compassion and understanding as she ran back into those woods. “Any man would be lucky to have you.”

  “You don’t even know me.”

  “I know you’re incredibly smart, resourceful, and strong. I know you’re kind to someone who is making a fool of themselves and have great taste in waffles. I also know that it takes a lot of courage to keep going back to the rez, to keep seeing your dad, even when everyone else there must be an ass.”

  “Maybe, but sometimes I still feel as confused about everything as I did seven years ago. I thought growing up would help.”

  He laughed again. “I thought that too. You can live twenty years or fifty or three hundred and it’s always confusing.”

  She blinked, not understanding what he’d said, not exactly. Sure there was hyperbole, but no one lived forever.

  “Huh?”

  It was Trent’s turn to hesitate, as the tiniest hints of fear crept into those haunting amber eyes.

  “I just meant we all have issues.”

  She frowned and a small voice started then, calling to her and reminding her that she didn’t know him much either.

  “No that’s not what you said.”

  “It was something my mom said, just that you could be a thousand and still be allowed to make mistakes. It’s human, right?”

  Elaine calmed a bit and nodded. “Sure.”

  Except I’m afraid I’m something else.

  “And now I managed to kill the mood,” he added. Then he leaned closer. “But I think I can fix that.”

  His mouth hovered over hers, his sweet, warm breath filling her nostrils and pouring into her own mouth. Then he kissed her. Their tongues met in what first felt like a fierce battle of need and desire, that dance for dominance where she wanted to embrace every inch of him. Her hands gripped strong shoulders and she reveled in his touch as he cupped the curves of her ass. Trent took the lead in their intimacy, calming the frenzied rhythm of her own tongue, instead leaving their kisses long and languorous. He teased her, as one hand reached up toward her breasts and the other kneaded her ass.

  Elaine moaned and then ground against him, feeling his hardness already pressing into the apex of her thighs. Through the thin lace of her bra and the soft silk of her black dress, she felt his fingers. Her nipples pebbled under his ministration and wetness began to pool at her core. Still Trent continued, and she leaned back into the grass, overwhelmed by heavenly sensations, glad no one was within a mile of them.

  “That’s amazing!” she breathed.

  He grinned and leaned over her, tawny eyes glinting with mischief. “You’ve seen nothing yet, country girl, let me show you things that idiot never did.”

  She nodded and bucked her hips up unbidden. “Please, Goddess, please.”

  If he thought her prayer was odd, Trent didn’t comment.

  Leaning down over her he paused just long enough to run his hands over the wolf’s tooth around her neck.

  “You’re an interesting woman, Elaine. I bet you have that she-wolf side in you.”

  You have no idea how much.

  His left hand pushed the straps of her dress down and he grinned at the lacy black bra she’d chosen. It was her one concession to Victoria’s Secret and from the appreciative bulge in his slacks, she’d made the right choice.

  “You’re so beautiful.”

  Leaning down, he began to trace the pattern of the lace with both palms, then reached to slip the hooks off. Elaine shivered at first with her nipples exposed to the air, standing erect for his pleasure and hers. Trent smirked––a look that should be illegal in all fifty states––and started to suck on her nipple. She moaned and bucked against him, feeling the odd instinct to growl at him too. Elaine pushed it aside, that feral need. It was already weird enough that she could smell his arousal and see him as clearly as if it were daylight outside. She refused to go crazy before him.

  His skillful tongue laved over her nipples, tracing each bump with fervent devotion. Her pussy was thoroughly wet, and all she wanted was to feel him with her there, to feel his tongue on her clit.

  “Please,” she breathed, and if it sounded lower than normal, more like an animalistic rumble that had to be her imagination. “I need you.”

  “Where, Elaine, just tell me.”

  “My clit, please just lower.”

  “Exactly where I want to be,” he conceded, and, even as he kept massaging her right breast, his hand slipped lower. She shimmied a bit as he pushed her skirt up. “So matching black thong. You really were prepared, black hawk.”

  She nodded, suddenly feeling like she’d lived on a desert island her whole damn life and Trent was a sip of the cold water she desperately needed.

  “Less talking.”

  He nodded and said nothing else, but pulled the thong off now with both hands. She mewled at the loss of attention to her breasts but it was worth it as he helped her position her legs. In a few seconds he was giving her thighs loving attention, kissing every inch of them, nearing his lips to her folds. Finally––and so achingly slowly––a tentative tongue caressed her other lips, tracing the edges lightly at first. The sensations now were culminating, making that sensitive cluster of nerves throb. Her clit was matching the rhythm of her heartbeat. All blood pooled there.

  Goddess, maybe he’d bring on a heart attack.

  But Elaine didn’t care as the waves of pleasure started to roll over her.

  Then he parted her folds and his tongue found her clit, starting to suck it with such intensity she almost thought she’d bl
ack out. Elaine bucked with the motion and felt all the sensations start to overwhelm her at once. The woods around them were suddenly too loud with cricket chirps like gong crashes. The night vision she normally enjoyed was keyed up to eleven, and suddenly she felt like a spotlight had been shone on their love making. Her nose picked up the scent of precum on his dick.

  And over the top of all of it were the shivers up and down her spine, the pulsing of her clit, the fire in her blood setting it to boiling need.

  Then Trent set two fingers inside her and moved them in an out in a rapid pace, matching the swirling motions of his tongue. Elaine crested that wave then, felt the climax spill over her and screamed loudly into the night.

  Fucking goddess, she never wanted to be anywhere ever again but under his fingers and tongue.

  She’d never orgasmed like that before, didn’t even know that was possible.

  Lying there, she blinked up at him, feeling boneless and free.

  “Your turn, I promise, but let me pull myself together.”

  • • • • •

  Trent grinned.

  He’d reveled in the tangy taste of her as the juices had flowed freely from her channel, felt the shudders rise up from her thighs, smelled her blood pulsing in her veins. He was so damn hard now that if she even touched him, he feared he’d come like a fumbling adolescent boy.

  Something he hadn’t been in a damn long time.

  Still, he was game to see how long he could last. But first, she needed to recover. He might have given her too much pleasure, if such a thing were possible.

  Laying down beside her, he stroked her hair back from her face.

  “Was that all right?”

  “You know it was amazing,” she said, and he stilled, realizing her words had come out oddly slurred. Elaine turned to face him and he could see the yellow reflection in her eyes and the fangs already sprouting. Around her neck, the wolf’s tooth was giving a faint green glow, pulsating with the beats of her heart. “What?”

  “Elaine? Are you all right?” he asked, even as that wolf side of himself, honed after years of practice was baying at him.

  Mate with her! Take her!

  He shoved that aside. One of them had to be in control. She was clearly inexperienced with shape shifting, or she wouldn’t be doing it during sex. A wolf running free in Birmingham could be disastrous, even if Elaine as a human didn’t want to hurt anyone.

  Damn it, he should have followed the book. Told her everything before guiding her through passion. Their lovemaking had already heightened her powers, as it would with all Wiccans. Now she was going to be an even more powerful wolf if she changed shapes.

  “Elaine, stop. You have to calm down.”

  She grinned and her teeth were growing ever longer, even as her ears grew pointed.

  “I feel amazing. I couldn’t be more relaxed if I tried.”

  “Elaine!” he said, commanding her the way he would fellow soldiers, his tone brisk and efficient. “You need to stop now. You’re changing.”

  That was the cold dump of water she needed. His lover sat up immediately and felt her face, but the realization had the opposite effect he hoped for. Reaching up, Elaine felt the malformation of bone and fang there, as well as the fur on her cheeks. It was like time lapse as she changed fully to wolf before him––muscles bulging, bones breaking and reforming, and pained screams changing into anguished howls.

  The great black wolf looked up at him with yellow eyes and backed away even as he peeled the dress back from her.

  “Elaine, wait, we can fix this.”

  She shook her head and howled again before darting off into the night.

  • • • • •

  She woke up covered in blood and feathers.

  That was the part that confused her the most, the feathers. Looking down at her chest, Elaine noticed the thick clumps of white and black speckled feathers all over. In the center between her breasts lay the wolf’s tooth necklace. Disgusted, she tore it from her and tossed it across the floor of her apartment. She had no idea how the wolf side––there was no doubt now that’s what she’d become––knew how to get home, but she was glad it did.

  There was no doubt that her grandmother’s spell book and her use of the wolf’s tooth had allowed her to skinwalk. Suddenly the smells were too much, that coppery thick blood. Leaning over, she vomited onto her floor and prayed that the chunks of meat were only the chickens from a few blocks over at the university’s sustainability commune.

  Standing and shuffling on wobbly legs, Elaine made for the shower. That was the first step. Clean herself, clean her apartment and then head to the one place she felt she could lighten her soul. On the way to the bathroom, she stumbled.

  Shit, he saw this time.

  Trent!

  He’d seen everything in horrifying, gory detail. There was nothing she could do to counteract that now. He’d seen every freak thing about her. He’d never want to speak to her again. Goddess, what if he told someone about her? What was she going to do?

  “Grandmother, why didn’t you warn me?” she wheezed, struggling to finish her walk to the shower. “What am I going to do?”

  CHAPTER SIX

  “YOU HAVEN’T BEEN by in a few weeks,” Norine Durham said.

  Elaine sat down at the pew but not before crossing herself and bowing a bit before the cross. The hot shower had helped, as had a plain salad dug out of her refrigerator. She was at least feeling human again, even if her grandmother’s journal and her own curiosity had rendered her anything but that. Still, when she felt her most stressed, Elaine went to see her local priest, Norine. The cleric had only been there for about six months, but there was something about her laughing blue eyes and serene demeanor that relieved the burdens from Elaine’s soul.

  Now she leaned into the pew next to her and took deep breaths to keep from crying, not sure how to start at all, not sure how to lie correctly about this and feeling dirty that she was.

  The Episcopal priest, for her part, merely sat and waited, face smiling back at her and auburn hair pulled into a high pony tail.

  “This isn’t just school stress, is it? Did you have a fight with your father? I know you feel extra pressure when the festival comes up in the fall.”

  She shook her head and decided to start with her lie based in truth.

  “Sometimes everything with my heritage weighs me down.”

  “You can embrace the traditions of your people and also follow the religion of your mother. We’ve had that discussion before.”

  Elaine nodded and picked up a hymnal, hoping that its heft and the feel of the faux leather against her palms would bind her to reality.

  “It’s not about that.”

  She was pretty sure the Christian God wasn’t big on werewolves or witches or whatever strange creature she’d turned out to be. She was pretty sure about five hundred years ago she’d have been burned at the stake or tortured by the Inquisition. Was it her imagination or was a cold sweat already breaking out on her brow. Would she burst into flames just being on holy ground now?

  Goddess, why were there no answers?

  “Then, just talk to me,” Norine prodded, her tone light and kind but the concern beginning to knit her brow. “Just start from the beginning.”

  “I inherited some things from my grandmother many years ago, some of her journals and medicine rights. I guess I feel guilty and scared reading more about that.”

  “Anthropologically speaking, what she can offer must be intriguing.”

  “Sure, and it’s my past and my family’s past.”

  Norine nodded and stroked her shoulder.

  “But you want to know if you’re wrong, if you shouldn’t dabble in those teachings as well?”

  “Well should I? What if, let’s just say, what if those potions and rites work? What if it unleashes something I can’t control?”

  Norine sighed and shoved her ponytail over her shoulder. “The old testament says ‘Thou shalt not suff
er a witch to live.’”

  Elaine’s throat constricted and it felt impossible to breathe. “I know.”

  “But that’s before the covenant. There are ways to meditate and feel closer to that other side of yourself. It’s not wrong to find your past.”

  “But what if the past is secretly horrifying?”

  Norine chuckled. “I doubt your grandmother was a serial killer.”

  Maybe I am if those weren’t just chickens.

  “We all have to decide who we are. So either you’re comfortable exploring your grandmother’s journals or you’re not. If it distresses you, you can stop. You can even bring them here for safe keeping if you don’t want to be tempted.”

  Elaine blinked and something feral growled in her head. That scared her almost enough to jump out of her seat. She’d left the necklace behind. There should be no risk of her actually changing shapes so why was something deep in her bones and skull howling at her to run?

  “I…maybe that’s not the right idea.”

  “Oh,” Norine said, shoulders hunching a little. “I was merely offering.”

  “I can always give them to Dad if he wants them back. I just…what if I feel like is a monster.”

  “Many people feel confused about themselves. It’s pretty normal at your age.”

  “And what if I’m not a good person?”

  Norine snorted. “I’m not supposed to show favoritism, but you’re more than a parishioner. I consider you a friend. I’ve seen the good you do volunteering with the youth class and how hard you work at the free clinic giving out sliding scale counseling with your mentor. Elaine, you can be many things, but the last thing I’d ever suspect would be a monster.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THE FIRST INKLING that something was still wrong happened when she drove up to the farm. Usually, the stables were her biggest source of comfort. No matter what drama was plaguing her at school, no matter how snotty Stephen and his crew were on the rez, no matter anything, Elaine could return to the barn and feel whole and safe. Pulling up though, she felt her stomach recoil at the overwhelming combination of senses assaulting her nose. She could smell everything––the acrid stench of ammonia wafting from the stalls, the oil for the saddles, so cloying and thick, the stink of the sweat from each horse––all of it was choking her throat and making it hard not to vomit.

 

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