I need this, she whispered. Make love to me, Elijah.
Yes. His voice was so reverent, so beautiful, so tender that she wanted to cry for how he made her feel. His mouth on her breast, his hands caressing her hips, the strength of his muscles beneath her hands…they all felt so right.
Ana tangled her fingers in Elijah’s hair, relishing the softness of the strands as he kissed his way over her collarbone and across her chest. She drank in every kiss, every touch of his hands, the heart-melting tenderness of his touch. She let it fill her, chasing away all the dirt from Ezekiel and from her own nightmares. She needed Elijah too much to resist it anymore. She needed his kiss, his touch and the beauty of their connection to fill her, giving her hope about the possibility of life and light.
Give yourself over to me. His baritone rumbled through her, insistent and possessive, but filled with such honor and respect. None of the coercion that had been present with Ezekiel.
Her entire being filled with a sense of peace and rightness, that this was where she was meant to be: in Elijah’s arms, accepting all he had to offer, allowing him to cleanse all the shadows and fill her only with the lightness and peace that he gave her. I’m yours. In every way. The truth of those words reverberated in every layer of her being, and it filled her with such exhilaration and excitement. She was his. He was hers. Together, they would prevail, somehow, someway, because the strength of their connection was everything.
Satisfaction pulsed through Elijah at Ana’s complete surrender to him. It was a deep-seeded male satisfaction that made him want to thump his chest and bellow to the world that he had won over the only woman who would ever matter to him.
God, I need you. The words formed in Elijah’s mind before he could censor them, but she felt so right. The way Ana arched beneath him, the way she reached out for him, opening her mind and her soul to his safekeeping, trusting him to help her fight off Ezekiel.
Then take me, tough guy.
He growled low in his throat. Well, when you put it that way… Gone was the sensual seduction, his admirable self-discipline, the delicate lover, consumed by the fire that exploded inside him. Elijah fisted her hair, anchoring Ana to him as he devoured her mouth, kissing her harder, deeper, faster. Her body was slick with sweat as she moved beneath him, her hips shifting in a sensual invitation that was for no one but him. She was his, only his, no matter what was on her arm.
Her grip was tight around his neck, her kisses as fervent as his. The kisses became frenzied, his hands roaming her body, her hips, plunging inside her, and then back to her breasts. He couldn’t keep his hands still, couldn’t touch enough of her, couldn’t get enough. Ana was the same, her delicate hands so gentle and seductive as they roamed his body, as if trying to brand every inch of him with her touch.
It was what Elijah needed. He wanted to live and breathe this woman who was in his arms, to never exist for another moment without her being a part of his soul. Need-filled lust consumed him, raging through him, sending him to the edge of control, until there was nothing but her body, her kisses, her desire pulsing at him, wrapping around him, calling to him.
Now, she whispered, her voice hazy with lust and desire.
Now. He shifted his weight and sheathed himself inside her in a single stroke of perfection. His entire being shouted with the rightness of it as he felt her soul wrap around him, as her legs gripped his hips. He moved again, thrusting deeper, almost unable to handle the intensity of emotions rushing through him. Again and again, deeper and deeper, until there was nothing but them, their connection, and the sheer enormity of the act.
Elijah! Ana’s body went rigid beneath him, and he caught her scream in his mouth as he abandoned the last vestiges of his control and allowed himself to bring the depth of the moment, of their connection, of Ana into his very soul. The orgasm took them both, and he shouted her name, clinging to her for dear life as it shook every foundation upon which his entire existence was borne.
As the climax took them, Ana gripped his hair, staring at him so desperately, as if she were trying to imprint the moment and his face into her heart forever. As Elijah gazed into her silver eyes, he knew without a doubt, that he had to find a way to be the warrior she deserved. Somehow, someway, he would become that hero.
A smile broke out over Ana’s face, the most beautiful, radiant smile Elijah had ever seen. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for looking at me like I’m your entire world.”
He kissed her lightly. “You are.”
And she was.
*
Quinn groaned, and Elijah tensed, realizing his friend was waking up. He cursed softly, desperately wishing he could hold onto the moment forever. “You okay?”
Ana nodded, her eyes still filled with that same sparkle of contentment. “I’m wonderful.” She laced her fingers behind his neck. “That got Ezekiel out of my mind. I can still feel the taint lurking, but there’s no one inside me but you.” Her cheeks flushed at the unintended slip. “Literally and figuratively.”
Elijah laughed softly and kissed her nose. “Just so you know, that was not simply about trying to get rid of Ezekiel. That was about you and me.”
Her face softened, and she traced her finger over his lips. “I know.”
“Good.” Elijah kissed her as Quinn groaned again. He could hear the footsteps of the Order members as they headed toward their room. “We’re about to have company, and as much as I love seeing you naked, I really think I’m not stable enough to take it if everyone else gets to see you too.”
“Yeah, I agree.” Ana grabbed for her jeans, jumping to her feet to pull them on. Elijah rolled to his side and picked his jeans up, then they both froze, staring at each other.
“I’m not touching you,” she said.
“And I’m not insane. At all.” Slowly, Elijah stood up, testing his mind. The demons were still there, but he knew they were nothing but illusions. It was as if Ana was still wrapped around him, helping him sort out truth from delusion. It wasn’t even an effort to hold his focus. “It must be because we tightened the bond so much.”
Ana grinned. “Well, that’s good, right?”
“Yeah. Hopefully.” As the sound of Order footsteps grew louder, Elijah fastened his own jeans, then took over buttoning hers. Not because she needed help, but because he needed to do it.
He needed to keep touching her and keep the physical connection between them. Like Ana, he could feel Ezekiel’s presence in his mind, and it was grating at him. As he buttoned her jeans, he saw the brands on her arm: his throwing star bisected by the line of Ezekiel’s brand.
“Son of a bitch,” he growled, and the room took on the faintest of red hues.
“Elijah.” Ana’s hands dug into his shoulders. “Don’t you dare go rogue! Not now! Come on!”
He closed his eyes as she wrapped herself around him, burying his face in her thick curls. He inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of roses that was such a part of her. I’m having a little trouble dealing with another man’s brand on your arm after I just made love to you twice.
There was the soft rumble of laughter from her. Really? Never would have predicted you were the jealous type. She hugged him tighter, and he lifted her so her legs went around his waist.
Me either. Go figure. He felt the fury began to subside as Ana clung so tightly to him.
You know it’s you I want, she said. Only you.
The conviction and honesty in her voice struck deep in Elijah’s heart, and the last remnants of his anger faded. Elijah buried his face in her hair, holding her tight as Quinn swore and made a noise as if he were climbing to his feet.
Elijah could feel Ezekiel inside him, and knew the bastard was eavesdropping on their intimacy. Ezekiel’s jealousy was resonating through him, leaving a bitter taste in Elijah’s mouth. Ezekiel was hating their bond, unable to accept their intimacy and the fact he wasn’t a part of it. “He won’t be able to share us.”
Ana lifted her head to look at Elijah. �
�He’s going to kill one of us.”
No! Ezekiel’s denial roared in their minds, and they both flinched.
Get the fuck out of my mind. Elijah slammed up his shields and helped Ana raise hers, reinforcing them as best he could. But as Elijah touched her mind, he caught a glimpse of himself in the pit, his skin flayed off, bloody and—
Ana paled and pulled her mind from his as nausea churned his stomach. “I wasn’t even thinking of that right then.”
“But I caught it anyway because it’s woven into the fabric of your being.” Elijah closed his eyes and rested his chin on her head, trying to calm his racing heart. “It’s what I was afraid of. Tightening the bond is bringing me closer to your illusions. Every illusion you’ve ever done is still present inside you, waiting for me to run into them.”
He didn’t need to say anymore. They both knew what would happen to him if the illusions took over.
Had it been worth it to tighten the bond so much?
Elijah hoped it was. If it wasn’t, he had just sealed the fate of the one woman alive who had touched his soul.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The worry and vulnerability in Drew’s voice eased Vaughn’s concerns about whether or not to free him from the clay prison. No matter what else Drew was, he was also Vaughn’s son in his heart, and Vaughn couldn’t leave him trapped. I’m here, Drew. Stand back from the wall and focus on our connection.
Okay! Drew’s eagerness was that of a youth, and Vaughn relaxed.
It was all good.
Vaughn raised his arms and threw back his head, raising his chest toward the sky as he opened his soul to the source of power accessible only to him and his kind. He called it to him, asking it to imbue him with strength and power. His body vibrated with its energy and he opened his eyes. The world was all shades of green, bright and vibrant. He knew his eyes were glowing. Power was streaming from him out into the world. The earth bubbled beneath his feet, and the sky grew dark with angry clouds. He swore as the sky changed, realizing he’d called more than he’d intended.
He would pay for that later.
But now he would use all that he’d summoned to save the one he loved.
Vaughn stepped up to the wall and placed his palms over the divot that Elijah had made earlier. He reached through that weakness in the wall with his mind and latched onto Drew. He tapped into their bond, pulling Drew to him.
Vaughn? What’s going on? I’m sliding across the floor toward you.
Cover your face to protect it. It’s going to get a little rough. Vaughn concentrated even more fiercely, thrusting all his energy and power into his hands. The wall began to glow beneath his palms.
Cracks began to spiderweb across the wall, fissures weakening the structure of it. The protections in the building swelled in resistance, and he focused his entire soul on his connection with Drew, on the blood bond holding them together. He felt the magic in the wall recognize the connection between them and bow to it. The metaphysical protections stepped aside for him, granting him passage to the one in his heart.
Preparing for the final thrust, Vaughn lifted his hands off the wall, and then felt a flicker of anticipation from Drew…but it wasn’t Drew. It was far darker, far more dangerous than anything he’d ever felt from Drew before. Vaughn hesitated, his power crashing through him, desperate to be released. Drew?
The walls pulsed with darkness and evil, and he realized suddenly that leaving Drew in that prison was the worst thing he could do. The longer Drew stayed there, the tighter Ezekiel’s grip on him would get. He needed to get Drew out and protect him from Ezekiel, not leave him there for Ezekiel to harvest.
Do it, Vaughn!
It was Drew’s desperate voice in his mind, and it was enough. Vaughn slammed his palms into the wall and thrust as hard as he could. The wall trembled, and he pushed harder, the muscles in his body straining to the point of snapping as he thrust all he had into the walls. Pieces began to fall, and he threw more of his power into the obstacle, fighting to ignore the pulses of darkness coming from Drew.
Then there was a deafening crack that shook the earth, and the walls exploded in a billow of dust and rock, raining down on top of Vaughn and the ground. He shoved his way through the chunks of rock crashing down on him, bouncing harmlessly off his body as he channeled the last vibrations of his power into protecting himself. “Drew!” He waved the dust aside and saw a foot sticking out from beneath a huge slab of clay. “Drew!”
He charged across the rubble, grabbed the ten foot section of wall and hoisted it off Drew, hurling it to the side. But beneath the rubble wasn’t the body of the boy he considered his son. It was a grown man, with scars and calluses. Blood streamed down his face and a sharp chunk of rock was lodged in his chest. His eyes were barely open, his body inert, his skin ashen from the loss of blood. “Vaughn?” he rasped out.
“Drew?” It wasn’t Drew’s voice at all, and Vaughn hesitated before dropping beside the man and placing his hand on his chest.
He felt Drew’s spirit immediately, and his shoulders sagged with relief. Drew was alive, though the body was something else entirely. This physical shell wasn’t Drew at all.
Vaughn felt a pulsing in the air and knew suddenly, with absolute certainty, that the part of the creature before him that was linked to Ezekiel was calling for the ancient Calydon, letting him know he was free.
His warning systems radiating fiercely, Vaughn stared into Drew’s eyes and saw in them a frightened youth, the son he loved. But Drew wasn’t the only one home in those eyes. There was ancient evil as well, fighting for dominance.
Vaughn swore, regret filling him as he realized what he had to do. “I’m sorry, son.”
Drew frowned. “For what?”
Vaughn summoned the remains of his power into his right hand, then clipped his son on the side of the head, knocking him out and breaking the connection between Ezekiel and Drew. Vaughn caught him as he slumped to the earth, cradling his son’s head as he swept him into his arms and stood up. He needed to get Drew to—
“Stop!” There was a loud crack and then something slammed into Vaughn’s back. He staggered as pain blistered through him and sent him to his knees. He fought to keep his grip on Drew, then something smashed him in the head. He hit the dirt, his head ringing and his mind sliding toward a black void as Drew was pulled from his arms.
“No—” He gasped, and then the darkness consumed him.
***
Ana slid down Elijah’s body as they turned to face Quinn, who was sitting on the bed, looking beaten. He was bleeding profusely from multiple places on his body, and his face was tight with pain. “I had no chance of breaking free. How did you do it? And why aren’t you bleeding more?”
Elijah looked down at himself and realized he was still bleeding from where the weapons had pinned him to the wall. But the flow had eased to a trickle and the chunks of flesh he’d left behind on the weapons were already regenerating. He frowned and raised his arm, watching as the hole in his biceps healed. “I don’t heal like this unless I’m in the healing sleep—”
He cursed, feeling Ezekiel’s presence in his mind. He dropped his hand with a shudder of cold dread. “Ezekiel’s healing me.”
“Infecting you,” Ana said. She laid her hand over the wound in his biceps. “It’s like he’s filling you up with evil, wherever you’re open.”
The darkness crept over Elijah, and an ominous feeling of dread settled in his bones. How much access did Ezekiel have to him? “Ana—” But before he could finish, he was hit with memories he hadn’t revisited in six hundred years. Not illusions. Real damn truths. Visions of him being tortured in a sandy arena, of people screaming… A woman, with blond hair… Oh, hell. His mental partition was down, and he was back there again—
Ana caught his wrist. “What’s wrong?”
I can’t block it.
Block what?
The room started spinning, and Elijah heard the Order descending on him as the team headed upstai
rs. “Fuck. Fuck.” He dug his fingers into his head, trying to stop the images, but they came flooding back. Faster and faster, slamming him from all sides. The blood, the deaths, the faces, the pain… oh, God, the pain…the hell…the torture… Not knowing truth from reality…who had he killed?
Then suddenly Elijah could smell the clean scent of his sister, the metallic tang of her blood. He could feel the hot sand burning the soles of his feet. He tasted the salt of his tears as he called out his throwing stars, unable to stop himself but knowing…so aware…of what he was about to do.
The roar of the crowd beat at his ears, and he could feel the turmoil in his mind. The agony, the grief, the total confusion as he advanced on the innocent he loved. The image was so vivid, he saw her face. Freckles across her nose, her wide blue eyes, widening as her big brother charged her, his throwing stars out as he—
“Elijah! Stop it!” Ana’s voice penetrated Elijah’s memories, and suddenly she was there beside him in the sand, standing in front of him, blocking his path to his sister. “Elijah!” Her silver eyes were glowing with alarm. “Come back to me!”
She threw herself at him, and her hands went around his neck, sliding in the blood coating his shoulders. Her body was warm and alive…and Ana.
Suddenly Elijah was back in Dante’s mansion, inhaling the familiar scent of roses. He wrenched open his eyes as Ana’s voice and her touch broke through the grip of the memories. His body was shaking and he held her tightly. “Jesus, Ana. I killed my sister. She was so innocent and I couldn’t stop myself—”
“No! Stop it!” She dug her fingers into his shoulders. “Listen to me, Elijah! The illusions were making you crazy. You thought they were killing you. You had no choice.”
“I killed my family!” Jesus! He ripped away from her, his stomach retching. He was back in that moment again, when he’d awoken from the illusion, their blood on his hands. He recalled the agony of that first moment when he’d realized what he’d done, that he’d killed his mother and sister in cold blood because he’d been unable to stop himself or see through the illusions to know he was about to kill his own family.
Darkness Surrendered (Primal Heat Trilogy #3) (Order of the Blade) Page 23
