Touch of Lightning

by Carin Rafferty

  “No,” he said with an adamant shake of his head. “I will not take you like a damn rutting animal.”

  She frowned. “You don’t have a choice. You have to take me. It’s the only way we’ll be released.”

  “No.”

  “Why are you being so stubborn?” she asked, bewildered. “I know you want me, Sebastian, and I want you so badly that I’m burning up inside. So please. Come to me and put out the fire.”

  He shook his head again. “You’re burning for sex, not me.”

  “It’s the same thing!”

  “No it’s not, and I’m going to prove that to you.” He leaned forward and sealed his mouth over hers. But instead of the punishing kiss she expected, his lips moved over hers lightly, tenderly. A shimmer of fear raced through her. What was he doing? Why wasn’t he just taking her?

  “Sebas”—

  He took advantage of her parted lips to slip his tongue into her mouth. As he indulged himself in a ravishing exploration that sent tingles of excitement racing through her, he cupped her breasts in his hands, kneading them lightly.

  When he brushed his thumbs over her nipples, making them hard and taut, she felt a strange yearning ache low in her abdomen. The ache wasn’t as hot or as needful as the fire that raged inside her. Oddly enough, how­ever, it was stronger, more potent, causing another shimmer of fear to sweep through her. She tried to pull away from his kiss, but he caught her face in his hands and held her captive.

  Fight him! a voice screamed in her mind. This is not the way it’s supposed to be!

  She immediately placed her hands on Sebastian’s shoulders and gave him a frantic push. He didn’t budge. Panicked, she gave him another push. This time, he broke away from the kiss and lifted his head, looking down at her.

  Sarah shuddered as she stared at his face. His eyes again glowed with that unearthly light, and he’d again assumed the look of a predator. This time she didn’t find the thought of being his prey appealing. Indeed, it terrified her.

  “Why do you want to torture me?” she whispered.

  “I don’t want to torture you,” he said, caressing her cheek. “I want you to want more than a mindless coupling to satisfy your lust.”

  “But there isn’t supposed to be more than that,” she said plaintively.

  “And that’s exactly why there has to be more.”

  “I don’t understand what you’re talking about, Sebastian.”

  “You will.”

  She started to respond, but he cut off her words by settling his lips over hers. As their tongues met in a slow, seductive dance that made the yearning ache return to her abdomen, she clutched at his shoulders and moved agitatedly beneath him.

  “That’s it, Sarah,” he murmured, pulling away from the kiss and rotating his pelvis against hers. “Feel.”

  “I don’t want to feel!” she cried hoarsely. “I just want this to be over.”

  “But I’ve only just begun.”

  She gasped when he suddenly lowered his head to her breast and laved his tongue across her nipple. Then he drew it into his mouth, and she could only cling to him while shock waves of pleasure coursed through her.

  Fight him! the voice screamed again. This is not the way it’s supposed to be! He will steal a piece of your soul!

  She wanted to heed the voice, but Sebastian moved to her other breast. As he licked and sucked it, he lightly pinched the nipple he’d just released.

  “Sebastian, please!” she cried as the yearning ache grew to unbearable proportions. “Take me!”

  “Soon,” he said, trailing his lips from her breasts down to her navel. He paused and circled his tongue around it, and then he headed unerringly south.

  “No!” Sarah gasped, trying to wriggle away from him when she realized his intentions.

  “Yes,” he muttered huskily, catching her hips in a firm hold. Then he treated her to the most intimate of kisses. As he teased her clitoris with his lips and his tongue, the yearning ache coiled inside her womb until it felt like a bomb ready to detonate.

  “Sebastian! Please!” she cried as she burrowed her fingers into his hair and clutched it.

  “Let yourself go,” he urged, replacing his mouth with the heel of his hand and massaging her. “Feel the pleasure, Sarah.”

  “I can’t,” she whimpered, shaking her head from side to side. “This isn’t the way it’s supposed to be.”

  “This is exactly the way it’s supposed to be,” he countered, increasing the pressure of his hand. “Lovemaking is pleasurable, not painful. So let yourself enjoy the pleasure, Sarah.”

  “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t!” she chanted frantically, even as she rocked against his palm involuntarily.

  “You can, Sarah,” he murmured. “You can.”

  As he spoke, he reached up with his other hand and lightly tweaked her nipple. It was as if he’d lit a fuse, because pleasure arced from her breast to her womb and the bomb exploded.

  “Sebastian!” she sobbed as her world spun out of control.

  “I’m here,” he said, coming over her and enfolding her in his arms. “I’m here, and I’m sorry, Sarah, but I can’t hold back any longer. At least I was able to open your eyes to the pleasure before I had to cause you pain.”

  Before Sarah could assimilate his words, she felt the tip of his penis slide between the folds of her womanhood and probe at the entrance to her womb. Then he flexed his hips and entered her.

  Sarah cried out at the sharp, tearing pain, and the voice cried tri­umphantly, This is the way it’s supposed to be! Hold onto the pain. Don’t let him steal a piece of your soul!

  But as the voice issued its advice, Sebastian stopped moving.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded, anger stirring inside her as she glared up at him. “Take me!”

  “Not without pleasure,” he stated softly, slipping his hand between them and tenderly stroking her clitoris. “Never without pleasure, Sarah.”

  “But I don’t want pleasure,” she whispered breathlessly, trying to ignore the yearning ache that again coiled inside her.

  “Of course you want pleasure, and I want to pleasure you,” he said, continuing his provocative caress.

  Sarah closed her eyes tightly and fought against his seduction, but her body refused to ignore the beguiling torment of his fingers.

  “Sebastian!” she cried out again when the yearning ache reached explosive proportions.

  “I’m here, Sarah,” he murmured, dropping a kiss to her lips as he began to move against her in a slow, steady rhythm. “We’re going to reach the peak together. Come on, Sarah. Give yourself to me, and let me give myself to you,” he rasped, increasing his rhythm. “Come with me, Sarah. Do it now.”

  “No!” Sarah gasped, because she knew that the raging storm inside her—the spiritual agony that wasn’t really agony but devastating pleasure— would destroy her if she gave in to it.

  But Sebastian made one final thrust, and her world again exploded and whirled out of control. A moment later, she felt Sebastian shudder his release.

  As she lay there, waiting for the world to right itself, Sebastian gath­ered her into his arms and rolled so that he lay beneath her. When he began to stroke her back soothingly, she heaved an exhausted sigh, decided to worry about what had happened later, and let her body mold bonelessly to his.

  She wasn’t sure how much time passed when he murmured, “That’s how lovemaking is supposed to be, Sarah. A beautiful, magical blending of bodies and an exchange of souls.”

  At his words, her mind flashed back to the voice that intruded during their lovemaking. Don’t let him steal a piece of your soul.

  But you didn’t listen, the voice now said, its tone filled with doom. You surrendered your soul to him and let him open your eyes to pleasure. Now, it i
s time for you to remember who you are and see what you have done by giving in to him.

  As the voice faded, a vision flooded into Sarah’s mind. She stood on a mountaintop, surrounded by the dead bodies of the people she knew and loved—the people she had vowed to guard with her life—and every one of them, down to the tiniest infant, had had their eyes gouged out.

  Noooo! she screamed in mental anguish, trying to shut out the image, but it remained entrenched in her mind.

  Yes, the voice countered. By giving yourself to him, you have granted him the power to do this. You are the guardian, Sarah, and you were supposed to protect your people from the evil wicáhmunga. Instead you let him manipulate you into sacrificing them for a few moments of sexual satisfaction. But it’s not too late to stop him. You are now a woman, and you’ve evolved fully into your powers. Use that power and kill the wicáhmunga before he can carry out this atrocious act.

  As Sarah’s gaze traveled over the mutilated faces of her people, rage exploded inside her. The voice was right. She was now a woman who had evolved fully into her powers. She also knew the perfect weapon to destroy the wicáhmunga, and she would make sure he suffered as agonizing a death as he planned for her people. She reached for her triangle.

  Chapter 11

  Evil Fled

  AS SEBASTIAN STROKED Sarah’s silken back, he decided he’d never felt so exhausted. It had taken all his physical and mental strength to make love to her rather than succumb to the mindless lust the talisman had instilled in him. He’d thought that by fighting the lust, he’d thwart the talisman’s plans and break its hold over them. He was wrong.

  As the lightning wreath continued to whirl around them, he closed his eyes in angry defeat, shutting out the frustrating sight. Dammit! The talisman must have another scheme in mind. He just prayed he’d have enough time to gather his wits before the plan was sprung on them.

  He no more than completed the thought when Sarah suddenly wrenched herself out of his arms. His eyes flew open, and he saw her climb to her feet beside him. As his gaze swept up her body, his heart skipped a fearful beat. She cradled her triangle in her right hand, and it emitted the same white-hot light his triangle had given off in the repository.

  Cautiously, he sat up and raised his gaze to her face. His jaw dropped in shock. Her features had taken on a subtle sharpness that made her look cruel, inhuman. The image was fostered by her golden eyes, which glittered with malevolent hatred.

  His lovemaking hadn’t thwarted the talisman after all. Sarah was def­initely under its spell.

  “What’s wrong, Sarah?” he asked, purposely keeping his tone light and ignoring the impulse to stand. He sensed that if he moved, she’d consider it an act of aggression.

  “You know what’s wrong, wicáhmunga,” she drawled.

  “Yes, but I’m not sure you do,” he responded, barely able to keep from shivering at the tone of her voice. It vibrated with the same malevolence reflected in her eyes, making her sound positively demonic. “The talisman is exercising its power over you, but you can still turn away from its evil, Sarah. If you couldn’t, it wouldn’t keep us trapped in here.”

  “There is only one evil I need to turn away from, and that is you,” she responded vehemently.

  At her words, the air filled with a peculiar hissing sound that ema­nated from the wreath’s walls. As Sebastian warily eyed them, he couldn’t refrain from shuddering. The lightning bolts no longer whirled, but moved in a slow, sinuous snakelike manner. The hissing came from the lightning tips, which had taken on the shape of eyeless snake heads. The talisman couldn’t have come up with a better way to scare the hell out of him and that assured him that his premise was true. She could still turn away from its evil, or it wouldn’t need to play on his fears.

  He returned his attention to Sarah. “I’d like to say that you’re wrong about me, but I can’t. Everyone has the capacity for evil, and the talisman has a hold on me. As much as I hate to admit it, I’m vulnerable to its manipulations, but I’m fighting against its evil, Sarah. That’s why I made love to you instead of taking you like a brute as the talisman intended.”

  “Liar!” she declared shrilly. “You made love to me so you could steal a piece of my soul and destroy my people.”

  “You’re wrong, Sarah. I made love to you so that the talisman couldn’t steal your soul,” he corrected. “The talisman gains its power from pain and violence, and it has to implant those emotions in you before it can use you. When I refused to rape you and gave you pleasure instead, I foiled its plans. Now it’s working on your fears for your people to get you to commit a violent act. Once you do that, it will have a permanent hold on your soul. You can’t let that happen, because once it corrupts you, you’ll be evil forever.”

  When the sinister cast to her features softened in confusion, Sebastian knew he was making some headway. Quickly, he continued, “You told me earlier tonight that you spent your entire life overcoming the triangle’s evil and that you mastered it. If you were able to do that, you’re able to fight the talisman. So fight against its evil. If you can’t find the inner strength to do it for yourself, then do it for your people. You are their guardian, Sarah. If you let the talisman corrupt you, it will make you destroy them. What kind of a guardian destroys those it’s supposed to protect?”

  Sebastian knew that her guardianship was her strongest emotional motivator. He’d hoped that by triggering that emotion, she would be more inclined to listen to his reasoning. By the time he finished his speech, however, he knew he’d made a mistake. Her features hardened, making her look crueler than she had before.

  “You’re lying to me. I would never harm my people,” she stated fiercely. “I’ve seen the future. You’re the one who wants to slaughter them. But I have now come into my powers, and I’m going to kill you in the same manner in which you would kill them.” Before Sebastian could respond to her charge, Sarah gripped her triangle more tightly and yelled, “Come to me! Take from him what he would take from my people!”

  At her summons, two lightning bolts streaked toward her triangle. They hit it and rebounded toward him. Sebastian screamed in agony and terror, as, a moment later, the lightning bolts struck his eyes.

  The pain was so excruciating that he was sure he would die, and then, as his anguish continued to build relentlessly, he feared he wouldn’t die. Unable to bear the lightning’s torture a moment longer, he closed down his mind and sought refuge in the haven of unconsciousness.

  SARAH FROWNED in displeasure when the lightning disappeared and she stared down at the wicáhmunga. He had fainted, but his eyes were open, and she realized the lightning hadn’t obeyed her command. His eyes hadn’t been gouged out, but had the opaque look of blinding cataracts.

  She gripped the triangle, ready to recall the lightning and try again, but a familiar voice said, “Why is it not enough that you have blinded him, Sarah? Why must you take his eyes?”

  “Wanága!” she gasped, spinning around. He hovered in the air behind her. Noting that he appeared in his leather breechclout, she scowled. This was her moment of triumph—the moment she’d trained for all her life. He should be showing his respect for her defeat of the wicáhmunga by ap­pearing in full battle regalia.

  “I’m glad to see that you still recognize me,” he said.

  She frowned, confused. “What are you talking about?”

  “That does not matter now, Sarah. My question, however, does. Why must you take his eyes?”

  “Before he dies, he must suffer as he would make my people suffer,” she answered. “He would take their eyes and keep them from finding the spirit world. I have to make sure it is he who can never find the spirit world.”

  “He is blind. Is that not enough to stop him from doing that?”

  “Why are you questioning me?” she demanded, her temper flaring. “As you’ve told me so many times, I am the gua
rdian. I am the one who has to make the decisions.”

  “This is true. I simply wish to understand why you feel it necessary to remove his eyes.”

  “Dammit, Wanága! I’ve already explained why, and I am not going to repeat myself.”

  He glanced around them. “Then perhaps you will explain this place that you are in?”

  She also glanced at the lightning walls. “This is the source of my powers.”

  “And what will you do with these powers once you have destroyed the wicáhmunga?”

  “I’ll use them to help my people,” she said, looking back at him.

  “And if they don’t want your help?”

  “Of course they’ll want my help,” she replied impatiently. “I am the guardian, and I know what’s best for them. If they don’t listen to me, I’ll . . .”

  “You’ll what?” he prodded. “Do the same to them as you plan to do to the wicáhmunga? Take their eyes, and if they still fight you, their lives?”

  “Of course not!” she cried, horrified, because that was exactly what she’d been thinking. But she’d never hurt her people, she assured herself. To reaffirm that assurance, she said, “That’s what the wicáhmunga will do to them if I don’t kill him. I know. I’ve seen the future.”

  “But did you see him in that future? Did you see him perform these atrocities? Did you see their blood on his hands?” Wanága asked softly.

  “Why are you doing this to me?” she said, raising her hands toward him beseechingly. “I am only doing what you trained me to do—to destroy the wicáhmunga.”

  “No, Sarah. I trained you to protect your people. Before you cause further injury to the wicáhmunga, journey back to the future. Confirm that what you believe is the truth.”

  Sarah wrapped her arms around herself, shivering, as she whispered, “No. I don’t need to journey back to the future. I already know the truth.”

  But her denial didn’t keep the encroaching vision at bay. As the vibrations of the future struck her and the image took form, she shud­dered. She again stood on the mountaintop, her people’s lifeless, sightless bodies spread around her. Forcing the horror to the back of her mind, she looked for the wicáhmunga. She knew he was the perpetrator of this carnage, but she had to see him here. Only then would Wanága believe her.