Mills & Boon : Seducing The Jackal

by Glass, Seressia

  She cried out, then cried out again as he surged up her body and lanced into her in one thick thrust. She saw the wide golden glow of his eyes just before he lowered his head and kissed her into oblivion. This was all about wild, primitive, sweat and sex and sensation.

  She wanted to claim him. The urge burned within her as she clutched his shoulders, as he powered into her over and over again. Each thrust, each retreat seemed to say mine, mine, mine, and she echoed the sentiment. She wanted to give him everything, even without knowing if he would accept it.

  Her teeth dug into his shoulder as passion broke her apart yet again. He shuddered, groaning, then pulled out of her. Still reeling from her second orgasm, Tia barely registered Markus turning her, pushing her to her knees.

  He skimmed a shaky hand down her back. “Tia,” he whispered, her name rough and broken-sounding on his lips. “Tia.”

  “I’m here.” She scrunched her eyes shut against an unexpected flood of tears that surged over her bared emotions. “Take it,” she demanded, pushing back against him. “Take it now.”

  He fit his still-hard cock against her swollen labia, then slowly glided inside her. Her name, a mixture of prayer and plea, fell from his lips again. Slowly he withdrew and just as slowly returned, as if wanting to commit every minute sensation of penetration to memory.

  The frenzied coupling had broken her apart; this slow, intent glide of flesh in flesh threatened to completely undo her. She knew that this time was for him, him to savor and enjoy and commit to memory. Arms and legs shook as her nerve endings sang, as body, magic, mind and heart reached for him.

  “Markus.” She called his name on a sob as she fell off the precipice again, her muscles tightening around him. Only then did he increase his pace to a steady rhythmic thumping, burying himself to the root each time he rocked into her. His fingers dug into her hips as he stiffened against her, a deep, guttural moan escaping him as he finally came.

  Her legs buckled. He tightened an arm around her waist, guiding her down with his chest pressed to her back. Holding her close, he pressed his forehead against her back, chest heaving as he struggled to regain his breath. She wondered if he was as shaken as she was. She’d changed—he’d changed her, and she wasn’t sure how she’d manage if she couldn’t see him again.

  It was a long while later before she turned over to face him. Shadows lurked in his amber eyes, shadows she hadn’t seen before. Her fingers brushed along his jaw. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  His lips twisted in a rueful take on a smile. “Impossible things.”

  “Please tell me.”

  He focused on her. “Why?”

  “Because I hope it’s what I’m thinking, what I’m feeling. I don’t want to be alone in this.”

  The sigh he released seemed to take all his strength with it. He pressed his forehead against hers and sighed again. “I’m losing my mind. Or you’ve bespelled me. There’s no way I should be thinking of wanting to take you back with me.”

  Her heart leaped, then sank as his words registered. “Because I’m a witch.”

  “Because you’re an Isis witch.” He rubbed his cheek against hers. “We’ve been enemies for millennia.”

  “Before that we were allies,” she reminded him. “And I did heal your clan brothers. I’d like to think that you and I, at least, can bury our differences.”

  “Yes.” He nuzzled her throat. “I know. But whoever stands beside me will lead the jackals with me. Can you align yourself with the Sons of Anubis, Tia? Can you give up the Daughters to be with me?”

  “I don’t know,” she hedged. “I don’t know if I’m talking about forever or a year or a week. All I know is I want to try. Surely that’s something.”

  He didn’t budge, damn him. “Will they let you be with me, Tia? What if they refuse to condone us? Can you turn away from the Daughters of Isis?”

  “They’re my family, Markus,” she whispered past a tight throat.

  “A family that cast you out.”

  “I know.” Tears pricked her eyes. “But they’re still my family. I can’t turn my back on them. My grandmother is still there, and I—I want to go back someday.”

  He quit her bed to get dressed, and she dug her fingers into the sheet to keep from reaching for him. She’d made her case; she wouldn’t beg.

  Once dressed, he turned to face her. “I’ve got to go.”

  “I know. Jackals to drill, Lost Ones to hunt, all that.” She slid from the bed, reaching for her gold silk robe draped over the nearby chair. She followed him through the kitchen to the back door. Obviously he didn’t want anyone to witness a jackal leave an Isis witch’s house.

  Bitter regret rose in her throat, harsh and acidic. Trying for nonchalance, she shrugged her shoulders. “Oh, well. Maybe the one good thing that comes out of this is peace between jackals and witches. If so, I’ll count that as a win.”

  “So will I.”

  “Yeah, well.” She wrapped her arms across her belly. “Once there’s some distance between us, I’m sure we’ll both get back to normal pretty quickly.”

  “Normal. Yeah.” He turned to her, golden eyes dark. “Tia—”

  “Don’t. Just don’t, okay?” She took a deep breath, then kissed him on the cheek. “Have a good life, Markus, Son of Anubis.”

  With a hand to his chest, she gently pushed him out the door, then closed it.

  Chapter Eight

  After a long hot shower and an equally long hot cry, Tia dressed and braced herself to check her phone. A handful of messages from her grandmother, and two texts from a client greeted her as she reset the Smartphone. She deleted them, thankful that she’d only missed one appointment in the time she’d spent with the jackals. Promising her client a free session as an apology would work. She hoped. At that moment though, she couldn’t think about work. She could only think about jackals and witches.

  She wasn’t going to give up. Markus would come around to her point of view, realize that what they had together was way better than being apart. If she could get the Daughters to agree to a truce, one huge obstacle would be gone. She didn’t know if being with Markus would fail or fly, but she was certain failing would be better than not trying at all.

  Her hand trembled as she placed the call to her grandmother. “Tia! Where have you been? I could sense you expending a great amount of magical energy, but couldn’t pinpoint where you were.”

  “I had an emergency.” She paused, taking a steadying breath. “With the Sons of Anubis.”

  “Oh.” Silence on the other end.

  “Oh?” She’d never known her grandmother to be at a loss for words, not once in all the time she’d known her. “Is that all you can say? You’ve taught me all of our spells, all of our rituals and prayers, but you’ve never once told me the story of Asharet and Sekhanu. Your parents.”

  “I know.” A sigh crossed the line. “Believe it or not, I had my reasons, Tia. Now, I think, it’s finally time you know them. We need to talk.”

  “Yes, we do.” Tia cleared her throat. “Grandmother, do you remember who told you about Asharet’s death?”

  “Tia.” Centuries-old pain filled her grandmother’s voice. “Do we really have to go into this now?”

  “Please, Nana, it’s important. How did you get the news?”

  “One of mother’s priestesses ran to our house, covered in dirt and blood. Amansuanan, I think. She said that jackals attacked the temple, killing my mother, our
high priestess. I might have been twelve at the time, about to enter service myself. I gathered the remaining priestesses and fled.”

  “What happened to Amansuanan? I don’t think I’ve ever met her.”

  “No, you wouldn’t have. We lost her centuries ago, shortly after we crossed the sea. Why do you ask this?”

  “Because Markus said he returned from a campaign to find Asharet and Sekhanu dead together, as if defending each other and the temple of Isis. He seemed to think witches were the cause. Just as he thinks the Daughters are behind the curse afflicting his people.”

  “Does he now?” Aya asked, acid creeping into her tone. “Can’t say that I’m surprised.”

  Belatedly Tia wondered if her grandmother had been involved with Markus sometime during the last four thousand years. Ew. Surely he would have said something. “He’s not the only one, Nana,” she said, keeping her voice free of accusation. “When I examined the jackals, I could feel Isis magic. It had been twisted, perverted by Lost Ones.”

  “Lost Ones?” Aya’s voice sharpened. “Isis magic tainted with the undead? Mother of Horus!”

  “It’s something to be worried about, isn’t it?” Tia asked. “If the Lost Ones have gained in strength and power, the Daughters of Isis could be their next target. Markus asked me to ask you to agree to a meeting to discuss a permanent truce and a new alliance against a common enemy, the Lost Ones.”

  “This jackal presumes much.”

  “What the jackals want makes sense,” Tia answered. The Daughters, especially the Elders, were fixated on ritual and propriety. Tia understood that following a strict path had kept them safe, but there had to be some value in becoming friendly with the enemy of your enemy. “Don’t you think, after four thousand years of hating each other, our two groups can learn to get along? We have to be stronger together than we are alone. Wasn’t that the will of the gods in the first place?”

  “My, my. Look what happens when we send a Daughter out into the world.”

  Tia swore she could hear a smile in her grandmother’s tone.

  “I’ll gather the Elder Sisters. Come visit me. We’ll go to circle together.”

  “I’ll be over as soon as I reset my wards. Will the Elders let me speak?”

  “You are the seventh Daughter of the seventh Daughter of the High Priestess,” Aya reminded her with all the hauteur of one confident in her own power. “Be here at sunset. It will be good to have you in ritual again.”

  “Okay, Nana. Thank you.” Tia disconnected the call. She paused before scrolling through her contacts and finding Markus’s number. The idea of talking to him sent butterflies tap dancing in her belly. Would he reconsider being with her? Would he want to go with her to the grove where the Daughters of Isis gathered? What if he only grunted when she shared the news—or worse yet, sent her to voice mail?

  In the end, her courage failed her. She sent him a text about meeting the Elder Sisters later that evening, pocketed the phone, then set about restoring the wards on her home, extending the protective barrier several feet beneath the house. Unfortunately she hadn’t started soon enough.

  Unfamiliar magic raised goose-bumps on her arms as the air before her wavered then ripped, revealing the swirling gray-black clouds of a magic portal. Several desiccated creatures crawled through the opening. Screaming, Tia threw handfuls of consecrated salts and incense at the undead. Those hit imploded, but more came, swamping her. Despite kicking and hurling curses, they managed to drag her to the portal, then beyond.

  * * *

  Gods. Markus gripped the steering wheel hard enough for the material to whine in protest. He could still feel Tia pervading his senses like that damned curse, still feel the imprint of her hand on his chest. How long would he have to endure her essence stealing across his mind and his magic without hungering for her? Somehow he didn’t think his immortal soul would last that long.

  He wanted her. She wanted him. It should have been easy from there, but it wasn’t. Even in the time of Sekhanu and his Isis priestess, the alliance between jackals and witches hadn’t been effortless. It was easy to look into the past with a gold-dusted view. He’d put Sekhanu and Asharet on impossibly high pedestals. Maybe the golden age of their people was more tarnished than he cared to remember. If history had taught him anything, it was that the pairing of a jackal and a witch would always be doomed.

  Even if he and Tia weren’t doomed, being together wouldn’t work. He had a good four thousand years of experience over her. Though he’d adapted to survive, he remained old-fashioned in many ways. He’d want to bond with her, live together, love and fight together. He’d want children with her, but had no idea if she wanted kids. Hell, he had no idea what her favorite color was.

  They’d had an intense couple of days together. A magical connection. Incredible sex. What would happen when they tried to go back to normal? Even their normal wasn’t like anyone else’s—she was a Daughter of Isis, newly come into her power, destined to follow in her grandmother’s footsteps as high priestess. He was the leader of the Sons of Anubis, warriors sworn to fight the undead. One day he would lose, one night he wouldn’t come home. He wouldn’t want to wish that on Tia.

  Still he wanted her. Wanted her with a soul-deep need. Imagining her being with another, rejuvenating her magic using someone else’s body, made him want to kill.

  Markus rolled his shoulders in the too-small van. He needed sky. He needed to hop his bike, open the throttle and ride full-tilt into a fight, the more targets the better. Maybe if he got bloodied and bruised from taking out twenty or thirty Lost Ones would he finally be able to ignore the pain in his chest.

  “Sir.” The jackal beside him cleared his throat, then tried again. “Sir, I have to ask.”

  “Ask what?”

  “Did the priestess bewitch you?”

  The steering wheel groaned beneath his grip. “No. Tia didn’t use her Voice on me. Why?”

  Again, the jackal looked behind him, as if getting encouragement from his clan mates in the back of the van. “You’ve been growling nonstop since we left.”

  Markus slammed on the brakes, causing the van to skid to the roadside. Throwing the vehicle into Park, he turned in his seat and pierced the others with a baleful stare. “And just what do you think that means?”

  “We think that means that you want to keep the priestess.”

  “She’s a Daughter of Isis.”

  “She doesn’t act like one,” the young jackal pointed out. “She didn’t have to be nice to us while she healed Rashon and Alonso, but she was. She told us everything would be all right, and we believed her. And it came to pass. Our brothers are back with us.”

  The young jackal shook his head. “I have never questioned my faith or my duty. I am what I am, and that’s proof enough. Seeing you and the priestess joined in magic, I actually felt as if Anubis and Isis were with us in that room. I want to feel that again. We all want to feel that again.”

  Markus snarled. Tia was his! Not for a month, or a year. He would have her by side side as his mate for the rest of his life. Even if that meant sharing her with the witches.

  His phone beeped. He checked the display, his heart thumping as he saw the text from Tia. “She’s already spoken with the High Priestess Aya of the Daughters of Isis,” he told his men. “She’s meeting with them later tonight.”

  The men didn’t cheer, but he could feel their cautious hope. Acid churned in his gut. He wanted to believe that the Daughters were
receptive to a truce, but it would take a gargantuan effort to convince some of the Elders that the jackals weren’t to blame.

  A sudden urgency gripped him as his chest began to burn. Tia. He’d left men near her place, wanting to ensure her protection until she could reestablish her wards. Now, every instinct screamed at him to turn the van around, return to her and see for himself that she was safe.

  On cue, his phone beeped. He tapped his earpiece. “Go.”

  “Lost Ones,” the jackal on the other end replied. “Coming from the priestess’s house. She’s not answering the door.”

  “Break the damn thing in!”

  For the first time in centuries, true fear blossomed in his gut. The Lost Ones had targeted Tia because she’d helped the Sons of Anubis. She could not pay for that assistance with her life. He had to save her, had to get her back—even if that meant laying waste to the entire city.

  “She’s not here,” the jackal finally answered. “She took out several of the undead, but they must have dragged her through a portal. I’m sorry, sir.”

  Throwing the van into gear, Markus spun the wheel, turning the bulky vehicle around. “Return to base.”

  The jackals beside him held up another phone. “I’ve got base on the line, sir. It’s Hector.”

  He snatched the phone. “Hector.”

  “I heard. Mobilizing now.”

  “I want all jackals on the ground in ten. Any whiff of portal activity, any scent of Duat, send it to me. Track Tia’s phone in case she has it with her. Send me the coordinates as soon as you have them locked.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Markus disconnected, then howled in rage. If the Lost Ones hurt Tia, he wouldn’t rest until he’d destroyed every last one, even if he had to go into Duat itself to finish the job.