“Death to will o’ wisps,” he muttered. He pressed his lips together, eyeing the protrusion. “And death to sharp bits of wood, too.”
Cursing, Adonis put a hand on either side of his body, covering the wounds. He closed his eyes again and concentrated, spilling a trickle of his energy into his ruptured flesh. He had to shut out everything, all sights and sounds. If he was going to keep this body alive, he had to heal it enough to repair the organs and slow the blood flow, but not so much that he didn’t have the energy left to get home. He’d been counting on that angel for a healthy dose of energy, and his reserves were too low for complete healing of this magnitude. He couldn’t afford to use an ounce more than he had to, and that required concentration. Fortunately, contrary to popular belief, Adonis was more than capable of patience if he needed to be. He wasn’t always so easily distracted.
“Are you all right?”
The soft feminine voice jerked Adonis’ attention away from his wounds so fast that the room spun around him. He blinked furiously, trying to regain his bearings as the bloodloss ate at the edges of his vision. With supreme effort, he concentrated on the source of the voice.
Sunlight. For a moment, that’s all he could see. Golden sunlight in the vague shape of a woman standing in front of a large window. Adonis did a double take and he had to blink several times to clear his vision of the woman’s aura enough to see her physical form. It was unusual for someone’s aura to be so strong that he could see it without trying to use his astral sight, but this woman—whatever she was—was powerful. Ridiculously, wildly so.
When he could finally see her as others who lived on the earthly plane did, his spirits lifted even higher. She was beautiful. Her face was a smooth golden tan that one could be born with, but never attain. The sparkle he could almost imagine he saw in her flesh was complemented by the gold of her loose, off the shoulder robe, cinched around her waist with a braided scarlet cord that matched the shawl draped behind her back and over the crooks of her arms. Her eyes were a light brown that looked more gold, especially with her power flicking over the orbs like a pure brass rod of lightning. Golden hair braided away from her face fell over her shoulder and down…down…down…
Adonis blinked and leaned forward, trying to find where her braid ended. It was in a sort of pile, just to the side of the mess of sturdy moss-colored fabric, dark wood, and stuffing that he was going to guess had been a chair at some point. A tendril of unease licked up his spine as he realized the maiden must have been sitting in the chair just before he’d fallen on top of it. His eyes shot to the square of sky visible from the hatch in a prayer of thanks to the gods that she hadn’t been hurt.
Shoving those thoughts away, he dredged up a smile only slightly less bright than her brilliant, booming aura. With a flick of his astral senses, he let his energy surge through his body, healing himself to fighting trim and probably burning twice the energy in the process. Not that that would matter now. Not when there was a female watching him with such wonder in her eyes. He stood nonchalantly, bunching his muscles as he did so in a way he knew would show him to his best advantage. Of course, he was already naked, so that helped. A lot.
“Are you all right?” she repeated, wringing her hands.
“How could I be anything less than perfect in the face of beauty such as yours?” he said smoothly, staring deeply into her eyes.
The brown orbs widened slightly and he took a confident step forward. Her breath quickened as he trailed his gaze from the top of her golden hair, down her slender body and subtle curves, over legs longer than any dancer he’d known, and finally to the bare feet poking out just below her robes. He gave her a wink, delighted when her cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink. He inhaled deeply, drawing the scent of her into his senses—and froze.
Virgin.
He took another deep breath, just to be sure. Yes, there it was. He could smell the blood just under her skin, scent the arousal he’d inspired in her with so little effort. There was no mistaking that delicious flavor, that pure, untouched ambrosia. He drank it in like a rare wine, nearly drunk just at the knowledge of what kind of energy waited for him in her arms…
“What is your name, fair lady?” His words were soft as he brushed an errant strand of hair behind her ear. Her soft skin felt so incredible, he couldn’t help but drag the backs of his fingers across her cheek. Blood rushed through his veins, flowing down to fill his flesh nearly to the point of pain. Gritting his teeth, he fought the urge to tear her robes from her body so he could drag his palms down the rest of her flesh, feel the silken decadence under his body as he pressed her into the bed. One hand rose to her hip, tightened as he entertained the insane idea of ravishing her right where they stood…
Her eyes drifted closed for a moment, breath hitched and she swayed back. The movement bared her throat to him as her arousal spiked and Adonis groaned under the sweet assault of her desire. It swamped his senses, reaching deep inside him to caress the well of his power. There was no energy more potent to an incubus than that of a virgin. Just holding her, caressing her, drinking in her longing for him through touch, taste, and smell was nearly enough to energize him. What would it feel like when he finally had her naked and panting beneath him, when he could finally plunge the aching hardness of his body into the hot, welcoming depths—
“My…name is…Ivy,” she breathed.
Adonis paused, his passion-addled brain struggling to remind him that he’d asked her a question. He surrendered to the urge to lean forward and rub his cheek along her neck. Her hands fluttered up to grasp his shoulders as he pressed a hot kiss to her flesh. The taste of her purity sizzled on his tongue and he groaned helplessly, grasping her waist as he licked and nibbled at her flesh. She gasped and he nuzzled her cheek and sucked in another lungful of her rich perfume. His head swam with heat and lust and pure, unadulterated need. He’d spent nearly all of his energy healing himself. He was an empty well, waiting for the refreshing tide that lay deep inside her. His for the taking…
“What…what is your name?”
He noted with a flash of satisfaction that her voice was hoarse with pleasure, further evidenced by the way she squeezed his shoulders harder with every brush of his lips over her skin. She was already his, he could hear it in her voice, feel it in the way she pressed the soft curves of her body against the hard planes of his own. As an incubus, he had a natural instinct when it came to women, could discover what pleased them with almost subconscious ease. With Ivy, he had a glorious sense of openness, the free delight that was almost entirely unique to virgins. He trembled with anticipation.
Playing his lips over hers in the barest hint of a kiss, he pulled back just enough to whisper the coup de grace. “I am Adonis,” he breathed. “Prince of Nysa.”
Her entire body went rigid seconds before a blast of pure light exploded from her body, hitting him full force and propelling him across the room. He hit a bookcase with a bone-jarring thud, bellowing in agony as the light undulating from Ivy scalded him like the hottest flames under Hecate’s cauldron.
Books crashed down on him, bursting into flames and falling like dying phoenixes all around him. His skin crackled and the acrid scent of burning flesh assaulted his nostrils, obliterating the last vestiges of her sweet, virginal perfume and replacing it with the charred evidence of his own dire state. Survival instinct sent the last of his energy into his flesh as he tried desperately to keep his impending immolation at bay.
As he struggled to keep the human flesh that was his host and his prison alive, he was forced to cease the outward charade. His teeth elongated into sharp points, black, sickle-shaped claws sprouted from his fingertips. Horns erupted along his crown to curl back and up and his wings exploded from his back like thick, charcoal leather sails whipping violently in the wind. He bellowed again as he dropped to his knees.
It took him several agonizing minutes to realize Ivy was screaming too, terror thick in her voice. His raised his head just enough to see the hor
ror etched across her face and then his world grew dark around the edges and he swayed. The flesh around him grew heavier and he realized with a flood of dread that the body was dying. Determination, hot and pure, surged through him. He had given his oath that he would keep this body alive. He would not fail in the duty he’d sworn to uphold. He would not.
Forcing himself to face his attacker, Adonis tried to make eye contact. Even without the energy for magic, he still had the attributes of a natural-born incubus. If he could make eye contact with Ivy, he could fascinate her long enough to get away.
She wouldn’t look him in the eye. For a second, Adonis feared she avoided his gaze deliberately, that she suspected his tactics and was foiling him. But she was staring at his burned flesh, the look on her face one of abject horror. Before Adonis could study her any further, the fire suddenly stopped.
Seizing the respite, Adonis used his adrenaline to spark an extra ounce of magic and threw it into his flesh, healing it as best he could, praying it would be enough. The pain mercifully lessened, though his skin continued to smoke, the pain simmering in his blood. He lurched to his feet and searched the room for a door, desperate to escape before the woman resumed her attack. Adonis had never attacked a woman in his life, never even raised a claw in anger toward a member of the fairer sex. He had to escape before he was forced to violate that code.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a pink ball of light hovering in front of Ivy. It was the last thing he registered as he stumbled, colliding with the stone wall and falling backward to crash onto the floor.
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t make his limbs move. His right wing was crumpled beneath him, a twisted mess of pain. His body felt like lead, his eyelids pulled down as if Titans hung from each one. He collapsed in a boneless heap as the woman rushed around the room. Rattling bottles, the rustling of dry plants, and grating stone filled his ears, barely heard over the pounding of adrenaline in his veins. He closed his eyes and took several deep, slow breaths. He needed to calm down, center himself. He had to conserve his strength, save it for the one surge he would need to escape this disastrous situation.
With his ear pressed to the ground as it was, Adonis was in a superb position to hear the clacking of several rocks as they hit the stone floor, a few of them bouncing off the thick rug he’d half-fallen onto. Adonis opened his eyes slightly, blinking rapidly as he realized she’d thrown a handful of stones around him to form a circle. Too late, his addled brain registered what she was doing. He reached out a hand a split second after a word in an ancient tongue left her lips.
A circle of protection snapped into place, the energy of the protective wards tingling against his skin. The first hot touch of anger slid across his mind.
“What are you doing?” he asked quietly.
The woman didn’t answer. She continued to rush around the room, putting out fires and mumbling to herself in a semi-hysterical fashion. In too much pain to think straight, Adonis just lay there, watching her and trying to stay calm. Things had gone very wrong, very fast, and he had no idea what to do about it.
She doesn’t look familiar. Surely for an attack of this magnitude it must be personal? How can she hate me if we’ve never met? Adonis laid his head against the floor, shoving away his anger and trying to think of where he might have seen the fiery maid, what he might have done to deserve her reaction. The fact that she was a virgin made it even more confusing and also even less likely that he’d ever met her before. Not that Adonis would ever forget a woman. He was an incubus, the most attentive lover one could ever hope to encounter. He remembered every woman he’d ever kissed, remembered her scent, her curves, the look in her eyes as passion finally swept her over the edge…
Who the hell was this lunatic?
Faint sounds of clinking ceramic filled his ears and he grimaced. At some point he’d closed his eyes and as he opened them, he realized he had no idea how much time had passed. Seconds? Minutes? Hours? He looked out the window. The sun didn’t appear to have moved that much. Perhaps he’d only rested his eyes for a moment. He’d expended too much energy too carelessly. With any luck, he’d healed himself enough that he wouldn’t die, but he had no way to be sure. Idly, he wondered what he would do if this body did die. His vow would be broken, Aphrodite would no doubt have a few choice tortures in mind.
“This is going to cost me,” he mumbled.
“What did you say?”
Ivy was talking to him. Adonis watched warily as the woman set a teacup on the floor and nudged it into the circle of stone. The sweet smell of herbs swirled past his nose on a trickle of steam and he lifted his head slightly. “What is that?”
“It will heal the burns,” she said softly.
Adonis blinked. Ivy’s eyes were bright and she held them wide open as if to ward off the threat of tears. Her hands trembled and she floundered a moment then crossed her arms and clutched them to her chest. She looked everywhere but at him. Adonis chewed on the inside of his lip. The woman standing in front of him was a world apart from the woman who had nearly incinerated him just a moment ago.
For a moment there was silence, broken only by the thunder of his heartbeat as his tortured body fought to stay alive. Every breath was torture, every wisp of wind agony against his mottled flesh. His wing throbbed underneath him and Adonis clenched his teeth as he realized he had to roll over. He needed his wings if he was going to stand a chance at escape, or going home. Without any magic left, he’d be a target for attacks by goblins, but his reputation may be enough to gamble on. Or they might try to eat him alive mid-flight. Lying prone, Adonis rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, wondering if it was time to call in that favor…
Adonis started to sit up, but a fresh wave of pain convinced him to remain still. He swayed a little and settled back on the floor. A whimper fluttered against his ears and he turned his attention to Ivy. She’d clapped a hand over her mouth and was staring at him with eyes a little too bright, a sheen of sweat on her forehead. He furrowed his brow in confusion and immediately wished he hadn’t as the scalded flesh of his forehead pulsed in agony. After a few deep breaths, he gathered himself enough to speak.
“I’m the one lying here like a roasted boar,” he said lightly. “It seems the slightest bit odd that you are the one who seems upset?”
“I didn’t mean to do that,” she whispered.
“I should hope not, it’s treason,” Adonis agreed weakly. He cleared his throat, stifling a moan of pain as he forced his body into a sitting position. “Might I inquire about why you did it?” He dragged his gaze up and down her body, almost falling over with gratitude when a little pulse of arousal flickered inside him. It wasn’t nearly enough for any real magic, but the caress of it over his senses helped take the edge off his pain. He offered her the closest thing he could manage to a smile. “I thought we were getting on so well?”
“I didn’t even know I could do that,” Ivy insisted, her voice shaking along with the rest of her body.
“Forgive me, fair one,” Adonis said stiffly, trying his best to keep his tone light, “but it seems somewhat of a stretch to think that a sun elemental would cremate someone on accident.”
“I’m not a sun elemental, I’m a witch—a healer.”
Adonis narrowed his eyes. “I am an incubus, a creature born on the astral plane. I can see your aura, fair one, and you are no witch. You’re a sun elemental, and you are way too old to be surprised by your own powers.”
“I am not a sun elemental!”
Adonis raised an eyebrow as she held up her hands, her eyes wild, her voice climbing an octave higher.
“I’ve never done anything magical besides healing,” she continued, staring at her hands as if they belonged to someone else. “I just… When you told me who you were, and I realized… I knew what you were going to do…”
My reputation precedes me. Adonis shrugged it off. He had a reputation as a rake, sure. But he’d never had anyone react like that. No one had a ri
ght to react like that, it was his life. He didn’t force himself on anyone. He was an incubus for the gods’ sake.
He picked up the tea despite his determination not to give her the satisfaction. He needed his strength. Besides, it didn’t make sense that she would poison him when it would be so much easier to finish what she’d started with the fire. He downed the cup in one gulp.
“You didn’t seem so unwilling,” he observed after a moment. “I wasn’t forcing myself on you.”
“I hadn’t said no yet,” Ivy fired back.
Her voice was getting stronger, even if it was still a little hoarse. She snatched a book off a nearby table, her fingers flexing as if she was considering hitting him over the head with it. The vein in Adonis’ neck thudded with a heavy pulse and he forced himself to gently set the teacup back on the floor before he gave in to the urge to crush it. His blood heated, though this time it was not with passion. Ivy was dangerously close to accusing him of rape, and if anything could bludgeon its way past the substantial wall of his good graces, it was being accused of forcing himself on a woman.
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