Pursued by the Gods

by Rebekah Murdock

  I felt my muscles tense at the thought of something—or someone—trying to hurt Ravenna, hunting her, even, and I had a sudden, deep desire to protect her. It was laughable. I could protect no one. I hadn’t even been able to protect her, not when it had mattered. I could give Ravenna some luck, hope that a measure of good fortune would carry her through, but in the end the Fates would do what they would, and I was as helpless as any mortal to stop them. Not even the gods had that power.

  There was something I could do, though, I realized as I slugged back my whiskey and set the glass on the table, drops of amber liquid still clinging to the rim. Someone I could talk to.

  As I left the bar, I glanced back once, and I caught her gaze from across the room. She stopped where she was, tray balanced on one shoulder, and the look on her face was unmistakable. For one second her eyes were full of desire and sorrow mixed together, and I felt my pulse race again, the blood fluttering in my veins. She wanted me. Whatever was holding her back, she did want me. The knowledge sent a shock through my body, and it was all I could do not to cross the bar to her, to take her in my arms and kiss her until she forgot whatever reason she had for keeping me at arms’ length.

  But I didn’t. I held her gaze for a long moment, drinking in the longing plain on her face, until she turned away, and there was nothing left for me but to leave, my body aching with fresh desire, the woman I wanted more than I wanted to breathe only yards away from me—a distance that might as well have been a continent.

  8

  Toven

  I went back to my hotel like a drunken man, my head swimming and my blood pounding in my veins. It seemed hopeless. However much she wanted me, there was clearly something that frightened her more. But if I could find a way to remove whatever it was that she was afraid of—some way to mitigate that fear, perhaps it would make the way clear for her to feel free to give in to what she wanted.

  I had no idea what it might be. For a moment I entertained the idea that it might be her lovers—Isa and whoever the other man was, but I dismissed it just as quickly. I had seen the way she looked at and spoke to Isa in the bar, and every word and mannerism had been that of a confident woman in an equitable relationship. I had met a few battered women, and Ravenna was definitely not that. But if not an abusive boyfriend, then what? Was it a debt she couldn’t pay, a man she’d denied—or was it not someone after her at all, but Isa or the other man?

  I pulled out my phone as I stumbled into a cab, sending a quick text message to the one person that I thought might be able to help. If there was anyone in the town who could neutralize the danger that Ravenna was in, it was him. I just had to get him to agree to meet with me. We’d once been close, but these days he’d become cagey and hard to get ahold of, mumbling about a plan to clean up the city on the few occasions I had seen him in the last year.

  I shoved my phone back into my pocket, staring bleakly out of the window as the taxi made its halting progress towards the side of town where I was staying. At one light, a woman in a short leather skirt and a tight pinstriped halter tapped on my window, her cherry-colored lips pouting at me as she pushed her long, faux-red hair over her shoulder. She was beautiful, but there was a haunted look in her eyes that made me look away quickly, fearful of the memories that might follow, memories of another beautiful red-haired woman with that look on her face.

  “Surely it can’t hurt to look at the looms. If it is fate, as she claims, you cannot do what you plan to. You know as well as I do that there is no stopping them.”

  “And what do you know of the Fates, Toven? Your charms might work on mortal men, but do not think to try to use them here on me, in my own kingdom. Or would you like to follow her into a dark exile of your own?”

  I would never, no matter how long I lived, be able to forget the image of her on the marble floor, her long hair like blood on the veined white surface. I would never forget the sound of her voice as she begged.

  I had vowed as I watched that I would never let myself be caught up in such intrigue again, that I would never let my heart be so possessed, that I would never do more than smile and charm and lose myself in the pleasures of wealth and comfort and warm bodies enveloping my own. And yet here I was, staring moodily out of a taxi window as I tried to save a woman who hadn’t even asked for my help, a woman who made my blood feel like it was on fire in my veins.

  You have stood very close to a different fire, I told myself as we passed the glittering towers that led to my hotel. Stood and watched love burn, and whatever you feel, it cannot compare to that. These are the feelings of a child, not a millennia-old deity.

  And yet, I felt them.

  I’m sorry, I thought as I paid the driver and walked into the lobby, the acrid scent of smoke from the casino overlaid with the powdery perfume of rose candles filling my nostrils. I’m sorry I couldn’t save him, or you. But maybe I can save her.

  ---

  I woke in the dark with a pounding heart, the dream I’d been having still swimming in front of my eyes as I opened them. The alarm clock next to my bed glared giant red numbers: three in the morning.

  I wanted to fall back to sleep, back into the dream, but I had a feeling that it wouldn’t be there waiting for me. I was rock-hard, my body aching and pulsing with the imagined memory of Ravenna in my bed, her olive skin a sharp contrast to my white sheets, her dark eyes shining up at me as she pulled me down to her, her legs spreading as I slid between them.

  I reached for myself, my hand a poor substitute for what I’d been dreaming of only moments ago, but it didn’t stop the groan of pleasure that escaped me as I squeezed, my fingers sliding along the sensitive, aching flesh. It had felt so real. I remembered the sensation of the smooth skin of her inner thigh brushing against my cock as I leaned over her and I pulsed in my hand, throbbing almost painfully with desire.

  Her lips had been warm and soft against mine, and I imagined for a moment them not just kissing me, but sliding over the tip of my cock, those wide eyes looking up at me as she slid down, the heat of her mouth enveloping me…

  My hand moved faster, a blur now, seeking out the release that had been denied to me a moment ago when I woke. I thought of how she had looked in the dream, her dark hair spread out across the pillow, her lips parted for me to kiss her as I moved between her legs, that first exquisite moment of heat as I slid inside of her, the way her back had arched as she felt me, hard and wanting.

  My cock pulsed hard in my hand and I groaned aloud as I came, spilling over my fingers in a hot wave that was nothing even close to what I wanted. The image of Ravenna, writhing in pleasure beneath me, shimmered in my head for a moment longer, taunting me. You’ll never have that, I thought as I let go of my cock, the length of it now as deflated as I felt.

  Even if she were free, even if she wanted you in return, you’re too afraid of what it might mean to really love someone.

  I rolled to the side, pressing my face into the pillow, wanting the scent of her there. It had been in my dream, that piney smell, like a forest after the rain. It wasn’t there now, only the scent of freshly laundered linen, as clean and generic as any of the hotel beds I’d ever slept in.

  For the first time in my existence, I ached for someone next to me. Not for pleasure, not for sex, but for the simple comfort of the warmth of another body pressed to mine, the knowledge that I was not entirely alone. And not just someone, but her.

  Ravenna.

  My lips formed her name, soundlessly, and I felt as foolish as any teenage boy with a first crush, but I was past caring. I felt heavy with exhaustion, tired in a way that had nothing to do with sleep.

  I heard my phone chime, and I reached for it. Nathan appeared on the screen in large white letters, and I snatched it up, my heart suddenly pounding again.

  Maybe I can help. No promises. Where and when do you want meet? Not on your side of town.

  I swallowed, my fingers trembling as I thought of how to respond.

  The Mine Shaft. I typed finally
. Come alone.

  I hit send, and then after a moment’s thought, sent another message to follow the first.

  Thank you, old friend. I owe you one.

  9

  Ravenna

  By the time I saw him again, I had nearly stopped thinking about him. We had begun to find our rhythm again after the disturbance of that first night that I had met Toven. We all went about our days, Isa and I to work at night, and if Isa kept an eye out for Toven when he worked at the Mine Shaft with me, he said nothing about it. For my part, I said nothing about my second meeting with Toven, when Isa had been away. Surely, after that, he wouldn’t return, I told myself, and ignored the pang that shot through me at the thought. For the first few shifts after, I would start when I saw the silhouette of a man with dark hair, my heart leaping slightly at the possibility that it might be him. And then I would chide myself, remembering all of the reasons why I should not want to see him again. It was dangerous. I didn’t know him. It put at risk everything that we had done to be here. And yet, it was impossible for me to put him out of my mind altogether. It irritated me and excited me all at once, and the excitement only fueled my annoyance with myself. I had all that I could ever want and need in my lovers already. What was it about this Toven that made me want to know who he was, to see him again?

  It was two weeks, almost exactly, when I looked up from gathering a round of pint glasses onto my tray to see him walking through the door. It was a night that Isa was at a different casino on the other side of town—if he had been bouncing that evening, Toven would never have gotten in. I forced myself to look away, hurrying to my table, praying that I wouldn’t hit some unfortunate patch on the floor and slip again. When the order was safely delivered and I had checked on my other tables, I made my way to his high-top with the intent of confronting him. I didn’t know how to deal with what I was feeling. I was pleased to see him—too pleased—and that made me angry. Anger I could manage. Anger, I understood.

  So, I went with it.

  “What are you doing here?” I demanded, folding my arms as I faced him.

  He turned sharply, freezing in place when he saw me, and the look on his face was so surprised that it threw me off guard.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked. “I didn’t expect to see you.”

  “I work here,” I said, my voice disbelieving. Was I going mad? “Do you honestly expect me to believe you didn’t come here looking for me, to try to talk to me again? Are you stalking me? You know I work here, don’t act like I’m an idiot.” I was nearly spitting at that point, my anger at myself rapidly refocusing itself on him.

  He was unfazed. “I was told you quit,” he said. “I did come back looking for you once more, after the last time I saw you, I’ll admit that much. The second time, the bartender said she didn’t think you were coming back.”

  I let out a long breath and made a mental note to thank whichever bartender it had been. I was rapidly becoming convinced Toven was harmless, but that didn’t mean every man who might come looking for me would be, and clearly at least one of the girls that worked here had my back.

  “Well, as you can see, I didn’t quit,” I said crossly. “But I am busy.”

  “So why did you come over here?”

  “Because I thought you were stalking me!” I spluttered, thoroughly frustrated. His eyes twinkled as he looked at me, and I realized he was enjoying this. The bastard.

  “At this point, I think you’re the one stalking me,” he said teasingly.

  I huffed at that and turned away, ready to walk back to the bar and never look at him again, when he grabbed my hand. “I’m just teasing,” he said gently. “I’m glad to see you again, Ravenna. I didn’t think I would.”

  His face had softened, gone serious, and I knew that he meant it.

  “I can take a break in the next five minutes,” I said. “Meet me outside.”

  ---

  He met me around the corner, just behind the bar. I craved a cigarette, but I didn’t light one up. I didn’t know what he’d think about it, and I suddenly cared very much what he thought.

  “Why did you come back here looking for me?” I asked quietly. “And not once, but twice! I told you I didn’t want to talk to you.”

  “No,” he corrected. “Your guard dog said you didn’t want to talk to me. You seemed unsure about the matter.”

  “Don’t call him that.” My fingers twitched at the edge of my jeans pocket, but I resisted. “His name is Isa.”

  Toven ignored me. “Do you want me to go? I will, if that’s what you want. I’m not in the habit of forcing my presence on anyone who isn’t interested.”

  I should have said yes. Gods, I should have said yes. It was what Kavi and Isa would have wanted me to do, what the smartest, safest course of action would have been.

  But the smartest, safest course of action would have been to marry the man who had asked my father for my hand, had his children, and been dead and buried a century ago. It would have been to never go to the stream and bare myself to Kavi, to never lie on the grassy bank and take him into my arms, telling him that he was the one I had chosen. The smartest thing would have been to never have run away with him.

  And yet I had done all of those things and more, and I was alive because of it, long after everyone else I had ever known was moldering in the ground, or only a flicker in a grandchild’s memory. I had lived. So I didn’t tell Toven to go. I stood there, my hand drifting away from the pocket where I kept my cigarettes, and I offered him a smile. “No,” I said softly. “I don’t want you to go.”

  He stepped closer to me then, and I could feel the tension in his body. “I felt something, the night we met,” he murmured. “Tell me you felt it too.”

  I straightened, stepping slightly away from him, leaning against the wall. “I hardly know you, Toven. Even if I did feel something, that doesn’t mean anything.”

  “Doesn’t it?” He didn’t come closer, he was smart enough to read my body language. “Who are you?” he asked for what had to have been the dozenth time, his gaze fixed on mine. “What are you doing in Las Vegas?”

  “I’ve asked you the same thing,” I said, dodging the question. His directness frightened and thrilled me all at once. It had been a long time since I’d been pursued in this way, since someone had wanted to know me this much. There were many things that had endured in my relationship with Kavi and Isa, but mystery had long since fled.

  That’s all this is, I told myself. He’s mysterious and strange and new and exciting. You’re just having a little of the hundred-and-fifty-year itch. But even as I thought it, I knew it wasn’t true. There was something else drawing us together, and that was far more frightening than the idea that I might just want to spend the night with a stranger.

  “I’m here because I like it here,” he said. “I was away on business, and now I’m back.” He stepped closer again, and this time I let him. I wanted him to come closer still, to bridge the gap between us that suddenly seemed thick with tension. He seemed even more handsome in this light, in his jeans and leather jacket, his hair falling in waves around his angular face.

  “What did you do that night?” I asked suddenly, my voice a hushed whisper. “When I nearly fell. How did you stop me?”

  I saw his shoulders tense. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said firmly. “You caught yourself, that’s all. I never touched you, I don’t know how I would have helped.”

  “You did, though.” I insisted. “I’m sure of it. I know you’re not…”

  “Not what?” This time it was his turn to take a step back.

  “Not human.”

  “Does it matter?” He looked at me then, and I saw something in his eyes that I couldn’t quite describe. Sadness, perhaps, or regret.

  “No,” I said quietly. “I suppose it doesn’t. But I would like to know.” I shook my head. “You did…something that night. You knew Isa was a shifter, just by looking at him. There’s something not of this world here, and you
know it as well as I do.”

  “Some things I think maybe it’s better not to know,” Toven said. He inched closer to me again, and I didn’t move. “It seems like there’s things that you don’t want me to know, either.”

  “I don’t know you well enough to tell them to you,” I whispered, tilting my head up. I felt foggy, my better judgement lost in a haze of desire. He was so close now, close enough that I could smell the leather of his jacket and the lavender of the soap he had used in the shower that day. He was close enough that I could reach out and touch him, and I did, or rather, I touched his jacket, my fingers sliding over the buttery smoothness of the lapel. “Why me?” I asked then, searching his eyes. “Why do you keep coming back to find me? There are thousands of women in this city, why me?”

  “I told you, I didn’t come here tonight looking for you.”

  “But you did before.” My gaze didn’t waver. “Why me?”

  “I don’t know,” he whispered, and then his mouth was on mine.

  10

  Ravenna

  He tasted of bourbon—vanilla and smoke—and I hesitated only a moment before I leaned into the kiss, letting my lips part a fraction as I reached up to touch his hair, thick and silky under my fingertips. He was gentle for a moment, the space of time it took for me to soften against him, and then he breathed in harshly and I was against the wall, one of his hands in my hair and the other gripping my wrist as he pressed himself against me, his tongue sweeping over my bottom lip.

  The fierceness of it lit the flame in me, and I gave as good as I got. I bit at his lip, my tongue tangling with his as I buried my free hand in his hair, and I heard him groan, felt him rigid against my thigh as he pressed me into the wall so hard that I could feel the ridges in the stones against my back. I wanted him suddenly, desperately—wanted him more than I wanted to breathe. I was on the verge of letting him take me there up against the wall, jeans be damned. I don’t know what would have happened if I’d been wearing a dress.