by Regan Black
She could do, would do, this much and savor every moment.
His lips were warm, firm, and willing to part for her continued exploration. She thought of their mental play as a shadow of their first real kiss on the roadside. This exchange muted even that intense moment. Nothing could compare to the shimmering heat, the need and craving coursing through her veins.
Craving for him.
She moaned as his hand drifted through her hair, lifting the heavy mass from her neck, fingers kneading softly. Her fingers roamed across his chest, she wanted inside that shirt, wanted to feel the muscle, to see and touch and know what was there. She fumbled at the first button, lost her patience, and just ripped it wide.
The kiss broke as he stared at her, clearly not unhappy. With her eyes and her hands she memorized every inch of terrain that was his torso. This insatiable need, this wanton side of herself, was what she'd feared in their telepathic encounters.
He trapped her small palms against him, right over his heart. The gesture, the meaning she attached to it, sent her turbulent emotions into another tailspin. Desire to connect, emotionally and physically, vaporized any remnant of fear.
"Kiss me," she demanded, eager to obliterate anything other than right here and now.
He obliged and she reveled at lips, teeth and hands roaming across her face, throat and lower as he leaned back, dragging her on top of him.
She felt his arousal, belatedly realizing she'd felt the same thing when he subdued her in the forest earlier. Temper sparked and faded abruptly as cool air skimmed over her bare chest. When had he removed her shirt? It didn't matter, nothing outside this room, this moment mattered. Except the heat of his mouth on her breast. She jerked, but his big, warm hands held firm at her waist, pressing her hips to his erection.
Testing, she rolled her hips against him. Pleased by his deep growl, she did it again. He tugged harder on her breast and flicked her nipple with his tongue. She retaliated, dipping her mouth to his ear, outlining the shape.
She gloried in the sudden knowledge that where wouldn't be any losers in this sensual battle. The very notion drove her to test the theory; to push them both as far as their combined imaginations would go.
Making love with a telekinetic had to be more intense, more fascinating than making love with a normal man, though she didn't have the experience to prove it.
"And won't," he growled.
She ignored his possessiveness in favor of relishing the pop of the button on her jeans and the way he peeled them off her legs with his mind while his hands circled and cupped her bottom. She sat back, straddling his hips and worked his own jeans open, gasping at the sight of his arousal springing forward into her eager hands.
She stroked and he groaned, his mouth crushing hers. Curiosity urged her to take everything he wanted to share. He felt hot, hard, and heavy and she savored it, the promise of it. "Show me what to do," she begged. She knew the basic mechanics, but couldn't help but wonder how they'd fit together.
"Perfectly," Nathan whispered.
She shivered, feeling the word brushing against her skin, shimmering in her mind. The sensation, intense and intimate, became even more so as he cupped her breasts and thumbed her nipples. She'd never felt more beautiful, more feminine than she did in this moment, with his eyes on hers. It was a type of worship she wanted – needed – to share by lavishing him with the same adoration.
His hair was silk under her fingertips, the shell of his ear a work of art. His jaw was firm under the shadow of whiskers and his pulse beat hard and fast as her palm molded his throat down to his shoulder.
Somehow, feeling his heart rate match her own put everything into perspective, made her brave. She sat back, smiling at his protest, and reached down between them. Cupping him, she learned what pleased him best until he was panting and she was embarrassingly wet and ready. Her body needed more.
"I know."
In her head, his voice was the softest caress while his mouth and hands worked in a magical tandem. She threw marriage and consequences to the wind. She wasn't sure there would even be time for consequences, but whatever was ahead of her, she wanted to know this, with him. In sensory overload, her hands fluttered over his body, her legs tangling with his, searching for satisfaction.
"Relax."
She burst into laughter at the absurdity. His every touch, every brush of skin against skin, wound her tighter until she writhed against him, seeking something she couldn't name. His fingers found her aching center and he slid down, settling between her thighs, exploring her most intimately. She should've been embarrassed. Instead his name was a prayerful sigh and when he set his mouth to her she came apart with a cry, clutching his shoulders.
Nathan watched her with no small measure of pride as she drifted back from the shattering climax. He could feel her pleasure inside his mind as well as under his hands and body – a heady, addicting feeling. She was boneless in his arms as he drew her down with him to the floor.
"Cali," he murmured her name, stroking her back as her body draped over his. Eventually the soothing touch became a seductive invitation.
She answered with a siren's smile, peeping at him through her hair as her hot mouth and curious hands explored his chest. She drifted lower, but he knew he couldn't take it. He wanted inside her, to feel as connected by body as he did by mind.
It was no small effort to distract her, but eventually he got her positioned. She straddled him, her firm legs gripping his hips, and leaned forward on her hands. Her hair flowing like a curtain around them and her eyes were wide open windows to her innermost desire.
"It's your move," he said, though he'd surely die if she left him now.
Her eyes locked with his, she slowly fitted herself over him. With tentative movements, she took him inside inch by excruciating inch. He fought the primal need to simply drive himself home. His fingers dug into her hips and would probably leave marks on her fine skin. He promised to kiss every bruise if she'd just…
"Oh. My."
He couldn't even form those small words as she started to rock over him. Then she found her rhythm and he matched it, taking control when she started to fly apart. He thrust twice more as her inner muscles gripped and spasmed, then he was just as lost. Rearing up, he captured her breast, then her mouth, and simply clung until the tremors passed.
When he could move again, he scooped her up and carried her to the bedroom. Whipping back the blankets with a thought, he proceeded to prove the modest bed was plenty big enough for two.
* * *
Kelly woke to the chiming of her security monitor. Someone had tripped the sensor. She rolled, but a heavy arm at her waist caught her before she could complete the maneuver. She felt her lips curve as Nathan's warm mouth murmured in her ear. Oh, it was tempting to ignore the sensor warning.
"Good morning," she said, hands caressing his chest. "Security says we have company."
"It's just a deer."
"Communicating with animals now?" He was nibbling her earlobe, keeping her pinned under him, but it wasn't uncomfortable. "I'll be back after I check it out."
Nathan grumbled, but let her up. "Chivalry didn't die. It was stolen by independent women."
Kelly stopped with her shirt halfway on. "You can go, but I know the property best."
He rolled to his feet, the view of his glorious body stealing her breath. He looked stronger today than yesterday. Everyone said fresh air helped him, but this seemed extreme. Maybe she was just seeing what she wanted to see. After all, if he got healthier every day, her every night would be better than the last.
Selfish, sure, but she didn't think it would upset him in this case.
"I heard that." He reached for his jeans. "Guess I won't worry about maidenly regrets."
Kelly tossed him a shirt from his duffle bag as she left the bedroom. The shirt she'd ripped off him last night was useless. The memory had her smiling. No, she could hardly fall back on maidenly regrets when she'd gone after him like a woman pos
sessed. As soon as she verified it was a deer and not a person trespassing, she intended to tackle him again.
She lit up the monitor in her small kitchen and started a pot of coffee – the good stuff Slick Micky had handed her when they left.
When the camera's feed came onto the monitor, her heart stopped.
She pushed her hands through her hair and smoothed her shirt and jeans, cringing at her bare feet. Her capacity for thought seemed locked on the overused and ineffective, 'oh, crap'.
"What's wrong?" Nathan joined her, sliding his large, warm hands around her waist.
No, no, no! No time for that. She batted him away, racing to snatch her bra off the back of the chair. "Get rid of this please?" She tossed it at Nathan and rushed to pick up the rest of their scattered clothing, looking around for anything else that might offend.
The monitor went off again, just as a firm knock fell on the door.
In her head it was the sound of judgment and she felt exposed and ill prepared. She dragged her feet to the door and opened it to her nephew, Daniel.
NINE
Courage is like love; it must have hope for nourishment. Napoleon Bonaparte
"Hi," she said, resisting the cowardly urge to slip outside to talk.
"Hi," he replied. The weak smile shifted to a frown as his gaze drifted beyond her. "Is this a bad time?"
It was the snide tone, reminiscent of his father that set her temper on edge and restored her balance. She'd changed his diapers for crying out loud. He may have the eyes and chin of her brother, but she was the grown up here and he hadn't lived long enough to judge her.
"No. Not at all." She opened the door wide, pasting a broad smile on her face. "How'd you find me? Why aren't you with the family?"
"They got settled and sent me back to school. School sent me home because I'm depressed." He jerked his chin at Nathan. "Who's this?"
Kelly didn't know the boy had so much pent up testosterone. He looked eager to fight, but for her or their cause? "This is Nathan. He's helping me find some things.
"Nathan, please meet my nephew, Daniel."
Nathan extended his hand, but Daniel sneered at him. "Any of those 'things' include finding the bastards who took out my dad?" He looked at Kelly. "You know, your brother."
Nathan stood hands on hips, glowering over Daniel who'd landed on his butt in front of the door. "You will treat her with respect. Never use that tone with her again. No exceptions."
Stunned by the impressive display from Nathan, Kelly wasn't sure how to intervene. The boy was grieving, but he'd crossed a line.
Daniel scowled belligerently up at them. Nathan telekinetically thumped the boy's head none too gently against the door. "Ow. Ah, yes. Yes, sir."
"Apologize to your aunt. The woman has done everything in her power to protect and restore your family."
"I-I'm sorry, Aunt Calisto." He bowed his dark head and his shoulders slumped. When he finally looked up his eyes were shining with tears. "I can't keep doing nothing." He tried to move and couldn't. "What's he doing to me?" he asked.
Kelly elbowed Nathan and reached out a hand to help Daniel up. "He's telekinetic."
"Whoa. That's cool."
She guided Daniel to the slightly more comfortable chair. "And overprotective."
"Why?"
Nathan grunted, moving to the kitchen to pour coffee. "Some day you'll get it kid." He returned with a steaming cup of black for Kelly.
"Thanks." She sipped, calming herself before turning back to Daniel. "How did you find me here?" She thought she'd covered her tracks.
If he could find her, who else knew about this place?
"My computer lets me know when people look for…" he shot Nathan a wary glance.
"Go ahead," she urged.
"For stuff about us," he hedged. "There have been a bunch of queries lately."
Petra, she and Nathan thought in unison.
"It was a matter of looking in places that would appeal to you," he finished with a shrug, but she wasn't convinced.
"He's lying," Nathan said aloud what they were both thinking.
Daniel glared at Nathan. "Fine. I hacked Grandma's computer." He shrugged again, this time with casual pride. "Wasn't hard."
She rolled her eyes and got up to pace. There wasn't enough room in the small house for her to think, especially with Nathan and Daniel growling at each other. She got a water bottle from the fridge and tossed it to her nephew, then topped off her coffee, but she didn't drink it. She was busy berating herself for keeping her mother in the loop.
It took her a few minutes to realize Nathan and Daniel were talking way too quietly.
"Hungry?" she called, knowing the answer would be yes, but they surprised her with a unanimous 'no'. She walked up behind Nathan and both mouths snapped close. "Okay. One of you better tell me what's up right now."
They both wore the 'much too innocent' expression. She stared them down.
"Daniel was just filling me in on stuff."
"Stuff?" She lasered a hard look on Daniel.
Nathan stood, forcing her to take a step back. He grinned down at her. "Stuff, Calisto, the all encompassing word."
He couldn't believe she hated her birth name. He intended to grill her about it later. After last night he knew every detail about her body, and thought he'd known every part of her mind. Now he wondered.
He felt her mental nudge, and respected it, but gave her a blatant look, letting his intention show. She'd brought him out of a place horrific beyond imagining, he wouldn't be the only one exposed. "Can I call you Cali?" he asked telepathically.
It seemed like an eternity before she reacted. The short nod wasn't a ringing endorsement, but it was a start.
"Whatever you're up to, Aunt Cali, I want in," Daniel declared.
Nathan stepped out of the way, sensing a serious argument brewing. He didn't think what waited for them was any place for a kid, even a big, intelligent kid like Daniel, but it wasn't his call.
"Let's talk outside," she said to the boy. "It's a beautiful morning."
Nathan felt all the undercurrents she was trying to suppress and when she glanced over her shoulder on her way out, he lifted his coffee mug in salute.
If her glare was any indicator, she didn't appreciate the gesture.
* * *
Nin sat inside Miriam's tomb, willing the god-forsaken box to open. She'd blasted it, poured holy water and blood sacrifices on it and still that ridiculous lock held fast. The headless body of her latest attempt – a virgin no less – was slumped in the corner.
She considered the tools at her disposal and summoned her favorite priest. "Explain this failure to me."
The priest bowed his withered head, hands tucked into his robe. Those closest to her knew she disapproved of decay. She supposed she'd have to share the virgin with him, or his face would soon be beyond repair. Since he knew as much as she did, having aided her second rise to power, she owed him that much.
"This is the map box, majesty?"
"You know it is."
"There were two copies made. One rested in this very place for centuries."
She let her power glow from her eyes. She knew that of course, even knew – intimately – the explorers who'd stolen it. Heeding her warning, the priest abandoned the history lesson.
"Yes, Magnificence." He cleared his throat, making a sound like dry tinder. "If you cannot open it, then it must be the original."
"Agreed," she said with a great deal more patience than she felt. "What will open it?"
"Only the blood of a chalice."
Fury exploded. "You lie. I've tried that." She jerked her chin toward the headless virgin. "Will you join her, or give me the truth?"
"My queen!" The priest panicked, holding up his skeletal hands in supplication. Nin swore when she saw the bones glowing white in the torchlight. His hands fell to the rose red floor and the priest dropped to his knees. "Truth, my queen. I swear to you, only the chalice can unlock it."
&nbs
p; Nin sliced her hand through the air and the priest's head split from his neck, rolling to a stop at the virgin's feet.
"What good does it do to have a box that can only be opened by the chalice it hides?"
With a thought she and the box moved to Kristoff's side and she repeated her question.
When he recovered sufficiently from her abrupt arrival to bow and scrape, he answered her. "But the map box isn't only about the Holy Grail."
He said it as if she did not know that much already. She growled at him and considered an alternate form for him. A donkey seemed appropriate. Or an ant.
"Wisdom would follow patience here." He paced away from her to the window, and looked out over the city.
No one ever turned away from her, but this creature intrigued her – was in fact her last hope. She followed him to the windows, becoming mesmerized by the view and momentarily forgetting his disrespect. There was a feast resting in ignorance on the other side of the glass. It was a great challenge to hold herself back.
"Open that box, Kristoff, or lose everything." She sensed his desire to challenge her, sensed him opt for common sense. She had come to the right place, this man knew something useful.
"I've already lost everything. If I get that box open, you will restore my reputation."
She knew he was hiding something. "Done." He was nothing, his reputation insignificant and his future unimportant. When she had the maps that led to every relic hidden by Abraham's God, she would have the power to turn the minds of humanity against their creator. She'd have the power to reveal the skeleton's lurking in God's own closet. She would shake free of obscurity and be worshipped according to her birthright.
"Take your best guard to Monument Valley," Kristoff said. "I'll bring you the box and the key."
She considered. "The valley where the false box was found?"
"The same."
She waited, but he did not add any of her titles. The poor creature had no idea how much worse she could make his life – and his death. "Why must we go there?"
