by Rae Morgan
He was trying to transport!
Her shouted “No!” came out as a strangled sound. Too low to carry for more than a few feet. The twins would not be able to hear her scream and charge to the rescue.
She'd have to stop Yorrick's transport spell herself.
Rhea dug down deep and imagined her energy opposing the circular motion. The revolutions gradually ground to a halt. Stalemate. But she wasn't sure how long she could hold him. Already she shook with the effort it took to prevent Yorrick's spell, and she still felt weak from her earlier magick.
Worse yet, his energy was so toxic that it made her ill. She couldn't concentrate.
Where in the hell was Drake?
"Drake!”
The doors to the bedroom flew off their hinges. Drake quite literally spun into the room, coming to a halt in front of her and Yorrick.
“Rhea? Has he hurt you?” Drake's words rumbled like thunder in the room. The energy in dark, angry colors poured off him and generated a tornadic wind. His hair billowed about his head. He looked scary. His gaze terrified her. It spelled out death. Yorrick's death.
“No. But I can't hold him off much longer,” she panted. “We'd almost taken off when I halted the motion.”
Drake nodded with one short, abrupt movement of his head. “That's my girl.” Then, he smiled. An ugly twisting of his lips that she never hoped to see aimed at her or someone she cared about. It was the smile of a cobra just before he struck.
"I've got you now, my love."
Drake held out his right arm. She felt a grasp as if it were physical. Then, she sensed a web of energy encasing her. She was going nowhere except where Drake wanted her.
"Let go, love. I'm sending you out of the room. I don't want you to see this."
"What are-?"
"Don't ask. Just do as I say. Please?"
She nodded, and as he'd asked, she let go of her hold on Yorrick's motion. As soon as she had, she floated across the room, past Drake, and into the arms of one of the twins who whisked her out of the room.
The door slammed shut behind them. Then, all hell broke loose in the next room.
“Boris?” She looked at the twin holding her.
“Yes?”
“Aren't you and Igor going to help Drake?”
“No.” Boris grinned. “I like being alive. He ordered us to protect you. That's what we'll do.”
“Then, could I have something to cover me, please?” She avoided looking down at her naked body.
“You are covered, Rhea.” Boris smiled a gentle, understanding smile. “Drake clothed you as he floated you out of the room.”
Rhea started to giggle which rapidly disintegrated into hysterical laughter.
Boris with a look of concern on his face asked, “Rhea, are you okay? That bastard didn't hurt you, did he? Shall I call Egbert?”
She waved him off, as she stumbled over to the couch before her knees gave way. “No, no. I'm okay. It's just that it's really scary-”
“Yeah, evil people can-”
She cut him off. “No, it's not Yorrick, or evil people, although I agree they are scary.” She wiped the tears from her cheeks. “It's scary that Drake had the self-possession in the midst of the danger to see that I was clothed.”
“Well, of course, I did,” Drake said as he stepped into the room. “I love you. And being unclothed in front of the twins would have embarrassed you.”
Rhea sprang from the couch and ran to Drake. He opened his arms, and she flew into them. “Drake! You're all right? What happened?”
Drake pulled her close to his chest, then stroked her back. “Yes, I'm fine. Yorrick is a fairly powerful witch, but I'm stronger. As for what happened, well, you don't really want to know. But I can assure you, we won't be hearing from Yorrick again. Ever.”
The grim-sounding “ever” reverberated throughout the room. Rhea shivered in Drake's arms. He placed a kiss on the top of her head as he continued to soothe her back with firm, but gentle, motions. “He's gone to join Galen in Siberia, my love. He's not dead, just different.”
“Siberia?”
“Siberia. It's a region-”
“I know where Siberia is,” she said with asperity. “Do you have a prison there for bad witches or something?”
“Or something,” agreed Drake.
She lifted her head off his chest and looked up. “You aren't going to explain, are you?”
He grinned at her and tapped the tip of her nose with a gentle finger. “Nope, not until you learn a little bit more about me, our coven, and magick.”
“But you will explain someday?”
“It's a promise. We're partners, remember?”
“Partners,” she sighed. “Yes, we are.”
Then she laid her head back on Drake's chest while he issued instructions to Boris and Igor. She was so tired she didn't even bother to listen in. Drake had everything under control.
* * * *
“She's asleep, Drake.”
“I can see that, Boris.” Drake carried Rhea over to the couch and gently laid her down. “Hand me that afghan.” Boris passed him the blanket and Drake covered her. After brushing the backs of his fingers across her cheek, he turned back to the twins.
“From what Ewan told us, Bettencourt plans to challenge us to a duel of magick in Lincoln Park on the night of the full moon. The better witch wins all-the coven, Rhea as the coven leader's consort, and the permanent banishment of the defeated witch and his loyal followers.”
“There's got to be a trick,” Igor said in his usual calm and logical manner. “There's no way Bettencourt would allow you or your followers to live if he managed to win the leadership.”
“I agree. He means to kill us all.”
“What about Rhea?” Boris asked. “She wouldn't mate with him. He'd have to use dark magick to force her to submit to him. She's committed to you. She loves you.”
“You think so?” Drake's heart beat faster at the thought. That would make what he, no they, had to do so much easier. Bettencourt would never know what hit him.
“I know so. You can see it in her eyes. They follow you everywhere. It's in her voice, also. She loves you.”
“Thank you. I must be blind. I believed she cared for me, trusted me, but I felt it was much too soon to hope she could come to love me.” Drake stroked her hand lying outside the blanket. “I've pushed her awfully hard since I discovered her.”
“But what about the power?” Igor asked. “Isn't the battle a slam dunk for us? Bettencourt must know that after you've mated with Rhea, you can't be defeated.”
“Well, he also knows that love, trust and belief have to be a part of that package,” Drake said. “I'm sure he doesn't think Rhea could have grown to love me so quickly.”
“Do you love her?” Igor asked, with his gaze fixed on Rhea.
Drake touched her cheek once more, reveling in its warm softness.
“More than life itself. I'll do anything to keep her safe, including keeping her from the field of battle.”
Igor chuckled. “How are you going to do that?”
“I'm not telling her when the battle is, or where. It's for her own protection. Just because our power is strong, doesn't mean she can't be hurt. She's still a novice. Bettencourt will use that and twist it to his advantage.” Drake stroked her hip covered by the blanket. “No, she will be somewhere safe. Our power will be as one. I can utilize it with or without her presence.”
* * * *
Rhea struggled to keep from smiling. He loved her. Good. It was mutual. But he sure as hell wasn't leaving her out of this fight. She wanted to face Bettencourt on the field of battle, if for no other reason than to rub it in that she fell in love with the right witch.
And she knew just the person who was going to help her do that.
She opened her eyes to mere slits. Igor smirked at her. He knew she'd heard all. He would be her ally.
Conjoining, first. Battle plans, second.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Bettencourt knew the exact instant when Yorrick was transformed and banished. He felt the loss of a follower as a chink in his magickal armor. Because of Morgan and that bitch Rhea, he had lost Galen, Ewan, and now Yorrick. He vowed to make the “do-no-harm” crowd pay.
He sat in front of his scrying globe. All signs pointed to this full moon as the optimal time for change. Destiny, fate, kismet, whatever you chose to call it was never written in indelible ink. He knew that. But chance was there for the taking.
All was in readiness. The forces of darkness and his followers were prepared. He trusted in his use and knowledge of chaos to give him the advantage he would need to defeat Morgan and his namby-pamby, neo-pagan wimps.
The only element of chance of which he was not totally confident was the bitch Rhea. She was the unknown quantity in this equation. Even if the conjoining had occurred-and if he had been in Morgan's place, it would have occurred on the same day he'd found her-there was no way to predict how or if the power exchange would work. The legend was not clear on this issue, no matter what the elders said. It only said the power exchange should occur if all the elements were present. The coven's history was filled with coven leaders and their mates who had the birthmarks, conjoined, but never wielded untold power.
In fact, such omnipotence was the exception rather than the rule. So, why should this match work where others did not?
In his opinion, the arbitrariness in the legend's application was because women were fickle creatures. Some might say their souls were a lot like chaos, random and erratic.
Even if Morgan and Rhea somehow found the way to consolidate their power, he knew that chaos had rules. And he was a master of deciphering them. The newness of the Morgan's and Rhea's relationship and her lack of experience should aid him in twisting whatever power they might wield to his advantage. And, then he would have them.
* * * *
After the twins left, Drake picked up Rhea and carried her into the bedroom, restored to its pristine condition and thoroughly fumigated with sage to cleanse the evil from the room. He had the rest of tonight and most of tomorrow to bind her to him with love. He wanted nothing to detract from the conjoining.
Laying her on the newly made bed, he slowly removed her clothing, the act itself causing him to harden to the point of pain.
Removing his clothes, he crawled onto the bed near her feet and sat back on his heels. He took a deep breath, her unique smell-some flowery essence underlain with a hint of musk-aroused him even further.
Unable to wait until she roused, he proceeded to love her awake. He started at her feet. Taking one dainty foot into his hand, he placed light kisses on the sole, then licked and sucked each dainty toe before switching and doing the same to the other. Then, he alternately kissed his way up both her legs, avoiding the more sensitive areas, for now.
Still, she had not moved. Yet, he knew she was awake and liking the attention. She hadn't blocked her mind, and he felt her joy and arousal as well as his own.
“I'm claiming you, you know. Every single square inch of you belongs to me.” Drake punctuated his words with kisses, nibbles and licks on both her thighs. “Open your legs.”
Rhea obeyed him. The sight of her dark-auburn curls and the dark pink of her moist labia caused him to groan. “You're already wet for me.”
“You do that to me,” she said with her eyes closed and a smile on her lips. “Do I get to claim every single square inch of you, also?”
“Yes,” Drake rasped. His balls tightened at the mental picture of Rhea kissing him all over. If he wasn't careful, he would find his completion before he was ready to take her. “Later.”
“If you say so. I trust you to keep your word.”
“Don't worry. We're partners in this as in all else.”
Rhea sighed. “I like that, you know.”
“What? Me kissing your inner thighs?”
“Well, that too, but no, the idea that you consider me a partner. That's when I realized I was in love with you.”
“I love you, too, my own.” Drake felt humbled by her love and trust. “Let me show you as I worship your body with mine.”
Rhea's only answer was a moan as Drake licked his way around her labia, flicking the clitoris with the tip of his tongue after each completed revolution. Using his hands to hold her steady, he made love to her with his tongue and lips. Her earthy moans and gasps urged him on until she reached her peak. As she crested, he licked her with strong, firm strokes as she shuddered her way through the aftermath.
As she recovered, he rested his head on one of her thighs. She stroked her fingers through his hair.
“My turn to do you?” she asked, still breathing heavy from her climax.
“Hmmm, not yet, my love,” he said between light licks of her reddened clitoris. “I still have to finish my worshiping.”
With one last loving lick of her hardened nub, he moved up her body, tracing a path with his tongue, lips and fingers. First, her navel, then her firm, but womanly rounded abs, then to her full, natural firm breasts.
As he had earlier that day, he paid extreme attention to her dusky-rose nipples, now hardened and begging for some attention. Lifting both breasts, he cupped and alternated between them, making sure that both nipples received equal treatment.
Rhea clutched at his head while he suckled at her breasts, moaning, then crying out, “Drake, please. I want your cock. In ... me ... now!”
Pausing in the loving of her luscious mounds, he turned his head and licked the inside of one of her wrists as the hand caressed his skull with massaging fingers. “How bad do you want me?”
Rhea shook his head gently and captured his gaze. “Really bad. So bad that when it is my turn, I'll torture you with pleasure, bringing you to the brink so many times you'll scream and beg for relief.”
“I can live with that,” he groaned as he easily escaped her hands and took her lips with a searing kiss. He raised his head and rasped, “Put me in, my own. Take what you want.”
Rhea grasped his cock and guided him to her heat as he nuzzled her neck. The feeling as his penis entered her vagina was indescribable. Telepathically, he conveyed to her his feelings and she returned them. The doubled pleasure caused them both to gasp, then moan.
She fit him like a glove. She was perfect for him.
Before he set the rhythm that would complete the conjoining, he caught her eyes with his. “I love you, Rhea Brown. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?”
Rhea's eyes filled with tears; then she smiled. “Yes.”
With her assent, his world was complete. In his mind, he heard the circle of life close. The conjoining, the prophecy and legends of his kind, the battle for the survival of the coven, all that was nothing next to her assent to be his.
Humbled once more by her generosity in loving him, he began to move, gently at first, then more strongly as she captured him with her long legs wrapped tightly around his hips. Her breathy cries and moans encouraged him to move faster and faster.
“Harder, Drake! ... It's so good ... It's like-” Rhea suddenly gasped, then screamed, “It's like flying. I'm flying ... Drake? What's happening?”
Drake had heard of this reaction to the conjoining, but couldn't take time to explain it to Rhea. He had to control the pace so that neither one of them would harm themselves on the higher levels of the astral plane.
“I've got you. Trust me,” Drake whispered into Rhea's ear as he slowed the pace of his lovemaking to allow her time to catch on to the fact that the flying sensation was her astral body's feelings.
“Hmmmm, yes, you've definitely got me,” she said, as she contracted her vaginal muscles. Hard. Tight, like a loving fist. “And I've got you, too.”
“Rhea!” His voice was strained. “You don't know what you're doing. Slow down, darling.”
“No, I want to fly!”
With those
words, she clutched his shoulders and bore down with her vaginal muscles. Drake shouted as biologic urges as old as time took over. It was time to mate, to mark her as his territory, and nothing was going to stop him now.
Drake pumped into her with faster, ever stronger moves. His garbled and grunted words spoke of possession and love, for now and forever.
Rhea's own reactions to his ever-increasing urgency mirrored his. The flying sensation which she'd finally reasoned was coming from her other self, the one which Drake had made love to so many times before, was more and more pronounced as she strove toward her climax.
As the first tremors of her orgasm washed over her, she cried out, “Drake! I'm coming, darling. Hold me!”
Drake's answering groan was followed by a long drawn out “yes” as he, too, reached his peak. His strong arms tightened around her-acting as a lifeline to her real self.
Rhea's sensations, physical and emotional, fed Drake's, and his fed hers. Like a cyclone, the two of them were whirled up into an apex of swirling feelings. As they were tossed about, they built up momentum and then released it, only to be pulled back into an updraft and start all over again.
The orgasm, or more correctly orgasms, seemed to go on forever. But they didn't. Soon, Rhea felt Drake's strong arms cuddling her close, his hands stroking her back, and his lips covering her face with gentle, urgent kisses. “Darling. Rhea, are you all right? Come back to me, my own.”
Through slit lids she found a concerned Drake staring at her. Smiling, she opened her eyes fully and said, “Whoa, did you get the number of that tornado that hit us?”
Drake threw his head back and shouted with laughter. Rhea sighed. Everything was going to be all right. Not only was he her lover and partner, he was able to laugh during lovemaking. What more could a girl ask for?
“Uh, Drake, are we conjoined now?”
“Yes, I would say so,” Drake said. “Sorry, I didn't mention the flying sensation. It isn't reputed to be a normal side-effect of lovemaking on the physical plane.”
“I guess we're special, huh?” She stroked his back, lingering at the top of his tight buttocks. “Is it my turn now?”
