Come to me, Sebastian.
Sebastian started. It was Sarah’s voice murmuring in his mind, but it was different—huskier, more sensual. So sensual, in fact, that it reignited his lust with such intensity that his groin ached with need. If she wasn’t enshrouded by the wreath, he knew he’d rush into her arms to assuage his passion. But she was in there, and he wasn’t going near her until he figured out what was going on.
Come to me, Sebastian. You know you want me.
He gave an adamant shake of his head, though not denying her claim. She was right. He did want her—was meant to have her. They were the chosen, and their child would liberate his race. Witches and warlocks would no longer be forced to live in hiding. They would again live openly, as they had before the Romans marched into their world and started the first wave of witch hysteria that escalated through the Inquisition and threatened their survival to this very day. So why did he suddenly feel as if mating with Sarah were wrong?
He tried to analyze his doubts, but his mind kept short-circuiting, scattering his thoughts.
Now is not the time to think, Sebastian. It is the time to feel. So come to me. Touch me. Kiss me. Lose yourself inside me. It’s what you want. What I want.
As Sarah’s seductive words crooned in his mind like a siren’s lure, two lightning bolts broke free from the bottom of the wreath. Sebastian shuddered as they slithered along the ground toward him. Their sinuous movement reminded him of Sarah’s rattlesnakes, and he intuited that the lightning bolts were just as deadly to him as the vipers.
He chanted a spell to protect himself from them, but when he finished the incantation and flicked his wrist to activate the spell, nothing happened. His heart skipped a terrified beat. His magic was gone again!
Run! his survival instincts yelled, but he could only stare at the bolts in fatalistic mesmerism.
When they reached him and coiled around his ankles, he closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, preparing for the pain he knew would come from their touch, the torturous death that was sure to follow.
Instead of pain, however, he felt one foot tugged forward, and then the other.
As the bolts pulled him another two steps ahead, he opened his eyes and looked down at them in disbelief. They didn’t want to harm him. They were taking him to Sarah!
As he tried to kick his feet free, two more lightning bolts broke away from the wreath. These streaked through the air, wrapping themselves around his wrists and pulling him forward. He attempted to jerk his hands from their hold, but they were as secure as manacles.
“Tell them to let me go,” he stated, anger surging through him as he glared at whatever monstrosity Sarah had become. He welcomed his rage, encouraged it, because without it, he knew fear would overwhelm him. He’d never encountered anything like this, and with his magic malfunctioning, he couldn’t fight it.
You don’t want the lightning to let you go, Sebastian. You want to come to me. You want to be with me. I can feel the lust pulsing inside you, making you hard and eager for me.
“I’m aroused,” he ground out between clenched teeth, still struggling against the lightning bolts, which dragged him inexorably closer to her. “But I want to make love to a woman, not an . . . obscenity.”
But I cannot become a woman until you transform me. Come to me, Sebastian. Change me into a woman so that I can evolve fully into my powers.
Sebastian stared at the cocoon in uneasy bemusement. What did she mean she wasn’t a woman? Did she no longer exist on a physical plane? Had the wreath absorbed her, turned her into electrified energy? If he did her bidding would that also happen to him?
He realized that his questions would be answered soon, because the lightning bolts had hauled him to within a few feet of her. Again, he tried to see Sarah through the wreath, but it still moved too swiftly.
Change me into a woman, Sebastian, Sarah’s siren-voice coaxed, as more lightning shot from the cocoon. It wrapped around his body and drew him toward the whirling mass.
Sarah! his mind screamed in agony when his body came into contact with the wreath. He’d suffered pain from its lightning touch, but it was nothing compared to the torment he now endured. He felt as if he were being slowly roasted alive and stabbed with a thousand needles at the same time. But as it dragged him into its center, his pain disappeared and instantly changed to lust. The passion grew inside him until he felt nothing else, thought of nothing else. He had to make love to Sarah, but where was she?
I’m here, Sebastian. Open your eyes.
He didn’t realize he’d closed his eyes until she issued the command. Slowly, he opened them. At first, everything was out of focus, but after blinking a few times, he saw his surroundings. He sucked in an awed breath. Why had he been afraid to come in here?
Lightning swirled around him, reflecting glittering light. He imagined that this was what it would be like to stand inside a diamond. The space around him wasn’t large; he could stretch out his arms and touch the sides of the wreath. He sensed, however, that if he wanted it larger, all he had to do was wish for it to expand and it would accommodate him.
As he watched the spectacular light show, he became aware of the hushed silence. All he could hear was the sound of his own breathing, or rather, his and Sarah’s. But where was she?
“I’m here,” she said behind him.
Before he could turn, she slid her arms around his waist and molded her soft body to his back and buttocks. As her warm flesh brushed against his, he jumped, startled to realize they were naked. What happened to his clothes?
“Do you always worry about such mundane things in the throes of passion?” Sarah murmured, pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade.
He opened his mouth to respond, but groaned instead as she trailed her fingertips down the narrow line of hair running from his navel to his groin. When she stopped to toy with the tight curls cloaking his penis, his entire body tensed in anticipation of her more intimate touch.
“Do you really want me to touch you, Sebastian?” she teased in a sultry voice that sent shivers of excitement racing up and down his spine.
But despite his excitement, Sebastian’s temper stirred at her question. He didn’t know why he was angry, but when she slid her hand toward his jutting erection, he caught her wrist before she could cup him.
Maintaining his hold on her, he swung around to face her. As his gaze landed on her, he felt as if he’d been kicked in the gut. Her extraordinarily long black hair was no longer braided, but hung down her back in a rippling, silken fall that reached the backs of her knees. His gaze flicked down her, taking in her high, firm breasts, narrow waist, and flaring hips. When he finally reached her shapely legs and the dark thatch of hair veiling her femininity, his penis quivered, urging him to throw her to the ground and ravish her.
“So do it, Sebastian,” Sarah murmured, stepping up to him so that her pebbled nipples brushed enticingly against his chest. She stared up at him, her eerie golden eyes glowing with hot enticement. Then she parted her lips and slid her tongue invitingly across her lower lip. “Throw me to the ground and take me as hard and as fast as you can.”
Sebastian frowned at her words, but he couldn’t figure out why they disturbed him. He wanted to do exactly what she suggested—throw her to the ground and take her ruthlessly, selfishly—and she’d just made it clear she wanted him to do so. So why did he feel so reluctant to touch her?
Because she wasn’t asking him to make love to her. She was encouraging him to rape her, he realized with a jolt.
Suddenly, he recalled what she’d said when he’d stood outside her cocoon. I cannot become a woman until you transform me. Change me into a woman so that I can evolve fully into my powers.
At the time she’d made the statement, he’d thought the wreath had absorbed her. Now he understood that her meaning was literal. Sarah was a virgin, an
d for the talisman to bestow her with its powers, she had to lose her virginity—be transformed into a woman. But the talisman thrived on violence, so it wouldn’t be satisfied with Sebastian making love to her. He had to take her brutishly, because only through pain could the talisman lay claim to her soul.
Thrusting Sarah’s hand away and spinning around to face the talisman’s whirling lightning wreath, he yelled, “Everything you told me was a lie, wasn’t it? You played upon my fears for the extinction of my race. Sarah and I aren’t the chosen, and our mating won’t result in a special, magical race that will free the covens. You lied to trick me into deflowering your chosen consort, so she could inherit your power. Well, I’m not going to do it. Do you hear me? I won’t corrupt her for you!”
“Sebastian, what is wrong with you?” Sarah cried. He pivoted toward her, scowling. “Dammit! You can read my mind, so you know exactly what’s wrong with me.”
“That’s crazy. People can’t read each other’s minds,” she said, her expression so bewildered that Sebastian knew it wasn’t an act.
He frowned, confused. Obviously, the talisman inhibited her mental abilities, but why? As he stared at her, the answer came to him. The talisman knew that because of the procreation problems within his race, one of the most primal emotions a warlock possessed was protectiveness toward females. Right now, Sarah looked tiny, fragile, in need of protection. He wanted to rush to her, pull her into his arms and shelter her from harm. And the talisman counted on him to do just that.
Sebastian took a step back. He couldn’t go to Sarah, no matter how vulnerable she appeared. His attraction to her was too strong. If he touched her, he’d succumb to his desire, and the talisman would win.
“I want you to listen to me, Sarah,” he said, “and I want you to listen very carefully. The triangle you wear matches the one I wear. Both are pieces of an evil talisman that wants to destroy mankind, and the talisman has chosen you as its instrument of destruction. But before it can fully bestow you with its powers, you must lose your virginity. Once that happens, you’ll be evil, Sarah. Horribly and irrevocably evil. The only way to stop that from happening is for you to remain pure.”
“Sebastian, if you don’t find me desirable, then just say so,” she said, her expression wounded. “You don’t have to make up bizarre stories.”
“The problem is I do find you desirable, and I’m not making up bizarre stories,” he said impatiently. “The reason you don’t believe me is because the talisman has taken away your memory. It did that so it can latch onto your baser instincts and erode your moral code.”
When she eyed him skeptically, he raked a hand through his hair. “Look, Sarah, from what you’ve told me, you spent your life training to protect your people from the talisman’s evil. Unfortunately, you were in constant contact with your triangle. I’ve recently learned that the triangles themselves are capable of corrupting their possessors. And the more contact you have with them, the more at risk you are.
“You’ve gone beyond the risk stage, Sarah. You’re on the brink of losing your soul, but I can help you. Send the lightning wreath away and come with me to Sanctuary—a town in Pennsylvania where my people live,” he added when she looked confused. “We’re a magical race, and if anyone can save you from the talisman, we can. So listen to me—trust me. Let me save you.”
If she’d looked bewildered before, she now looked positively befuddled. When she crossed her arms and rubbed at her upper arms as though cold, Sebastian knew she suffered an emotional chill. The temperature inside the wreath was uncomfortably hot. Why hadn’t he noticed the unrelenting heat before?
Because he’d been so aroused, he’d been a hundred times hotter on the inside. Even now, as he waited for her to respond, he could feel his internal temperature rising, and, to his chagrin, his penis stirred. He might be determined to keep his hands off Sarah, but she was so damn beautiful that he couldn’t stop wanting her. He feared that if she didn’t make a decision soon, he’d lose control and take her, regardless of the consequences.
Suddenly she frowned at him, while shifting from one foot to the other. Sebastian, sensing she wanted to believe his story, said, “Sarah, please. Everything I’ve said is the truth. Send the wreath away before it’s too late.”
She still looked indecisive, but then she whispered, “I don’t know how to send it away.”
“You summoned it, so you have to be able to dismiss it,” he stated encouragingly.
“I . . . don’t remember . . . summoning it,” she stammered, looking at the lightning spinning around them.
Sebastian also looked at it, frowning worriedly. Was it his imagination, or was the wreath starting to close in on them? If it was, it would force them together. Once they came into physical contact . . .
He cut off the disturbing thought and said, “When you summoned it, you said, ‘Come to me,’ and it came. Try saying, ‘Leave me.’”
She arched a brow dubiously. “That sounds so . . . simple.”
“Magic usually is simple, and that’s what we’re dealing with here. Magic. Just say the words and see what happens.”
She clasped her hands in front of her and hesitantly said, “Leave me.”
“Say it with meaning,” Sebastian ordered, when, instead of lifting, the wreath definitely moved in closer to them, confirming his fears. “It has to believe you want it to go away.”
“If you aren’t happy with the way I’m talking, then why don’t you send it away?” she retorted.
“Because I didn’t summon it; you did,” he shot back angrily, though he knew his temper was only a defense mechanism to hold his fear at bay. “Now, get rid of it!”
She glared at him, and for a moment he thought she’d defy him. But then she stated forcefully, “Leave me!”
Sebastian clenched his hands at his sides and stared at the gyrating walls, willing the wreath to lift. They had to get out of here. If they didn’t . . .
Sarah suddenly let out a pained yelp. Sebastian jerked his head toward her. The wall nearest her bumped against her, and he could see small flares of lightning striking her, prodding her in his direction.
He opened his mouth to yell at her to stay where she was, that it was too dangerous for her to come near him. But when he started to utter the words, he cut them off, recognizing the futility of his warning. The talisman would not release them until Sebastian took her virginity. There was no way he could stand by and watch it torture her when he knew that, in the end, he’d be forced to succumb.
As the lightning continued to abuse her, Sarah turned toward him, her eyes wide and frightened as she whimpered, “Sebastian?”
“Come here, Sarah,” he said, opening his arms and accepting the inevitable.
With a sob, she rushed to him. As she threw herself into his embrace, he closed his eyes with a defeated shake of his head. Already, the lust was consuming him. Within minutes, maybe even seconds, he would be responsible for the loss of Sarah’s soul.
SARAH CLUNG TO Sebastian, her mind muddled. She knew he’d just explained something to her—something important—but she couldn’t remember what. Indeed, she couldn’t remember anything beyond their names, and she supposed that should frighten her. But with Sebastian’s strong arms linked around her, she didn’t feel afraid but . . . She frowned, unable to identify the strange restlessness stirring inside her.
“Sarah, look at me,” Sebastian said gruffly.
She glanced up at him and shivered, but it wasn’t fear that made her tremble. It was the restlessness inside, which grew more intense as she looked at him. His expression was taut, almost angry, and his eyes glowed with an unearthly light. He reminded her of a ferocious predator, and she was his intended prey. Again, she knew she should be frightened, but heaven help her, she wanted to be his prey.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t help myself,” he said, his voice
a guttural rasp as he cupped her face in his hands and his lips swooped down to hers.
His kiss was bruising, as though he had some overwhelming need to punish her, and she welcomed his castigation. It fed the restlessness, which made her feel hot and quivery and ravenous, though she couldn’t name her hunger. When Sebastian slid a hand beneath her hair, cupped her buttock and pulled her tightly against his erection, her restlessness exploded into a conflagration. At that moment, she knew the source of her hunger and her heat. Pure, unadulterated lust.
With a moan, she twined her arms around Sebastian’s neck and returned his punishing kiss with one of her own. As their mouths battled, she ground her pelvis against his. He groaned and caught her hips in both hands, lifting her so that she was forced to wrap her legs around his hips.
As she did, her womanhood opened to him, and she gasped, “Take me, Sebastian. Take me now.”
At her command, the whirling walls closed in, clinging to them like blankets. Then the walls tilted, moving their bodies into a reclining position and cradling them in the air.
She gazed up at Sebastian, who was positioned between her thighs. When the tip of his erection probed against her, she raked her hands down his back and arched up to him, eager to complete their union. She felt his hips flex, and she closed her eyes in anticipation. He was going to take her—transform her into a woman—and then she’d be . . .
Her eyes flew open in confusion when, instead of entering her, Sebastian jerked away from her. He knelt above her, and the wreath’s walls pelted him with small bolts of lightning as he struggled to stand.
She knew the bolts attempted to force him back into her arms, and his grimace assured her he suffered acutely from their assault. So why didn’t he come back to her to escape the pain? Why had he left her in the first place? She knew he wanted her as badly as she wanted him. It didn’t make sense.
She raised her arms encouragingly toward him. “Please, Sebastian. Come to me. Take me.”
Touch of Lightning Page 16
