by J. C. Wilder
Still, she hesitated.
“Move!”
With a jerky nod, she set off, walking away from him, holding the bag close to her body while allowing a small but steady stream of white crystals to escape the opening. Satisfied she was doing as instructed, he turned and began laying his line in the opposite direction. Salt wasn’t much protection but it would buy them some time.
When he neared the front of the house and the level of salt grew dangerously low, he prayed the scant remains would be enough. He rounded the corner in time to see Maeve do the same. Her sack was almost empty too. He continued pouring until he made it to the front walk, and his supply ran out. He looked up to see how far she’d make it and swore under his breath when the narrow line ended at the opposite edge of the walk.
“All gone.” She shook the empty bag. “Now what.”
“Good question.” Quinn let the pot fall to his side and it struck the samurai sword still strapped to his hip.
The sword!
He tossed the pot aside. Taking Maeve’s hand, he pulled her into the salt circle as shadows took shape in the woods facing the house. Pairs of beady eyes glowed reddish gold in the thickening darkness.
The minions had arrived.
“It’s them, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
He wrenched the sword from his belt then pointed it to the north.
“I consecrate this sword in the name of the Goddess. May it protect those who serve in her name.”
Laying the sword in the center of the walk, pointing outward from the circle of salt, he sealed the circle and began casting the spell.
“Guardians of the watchtower of the Four Corners of the earth, hear my words and attend me now. In this magical place, I ask for protection from those who would subvert the name of the Goddess. Only those who walk in light shall enter here.
“Only those who seek no harm shall be welcomed. So mote it be.”
When he completed the spell, a glint of steel caught his eye. Maeve stood several feet to his left, her boot-knife clasped in both hands, held before her at waist height. Her feet were set wide for better balance as her gaze scanned the area surrounding them, ever watchful against any threat.
Part woman, part Valkyrie.
He shook off the fanciful thought. “We’re safe enough for now.”
Overhead, a bolt of lightning exploded quickly followed by the thunder. The ground rumbled beneath their feet. She glanced at him then returned to her vigil, clearly unconvinced.
“Come.” He held out his hand, silently entreating her to take it. “The circle will hold. For now we need to eat and get some rest.”
For a minute, he thought she’d refuse. Then she lowered her blade. Keeping it in one hand, she slipped the other into his and allowed him to lead her into the house. Her skin was warm, and their hands fit together as if they were made for one another. Had holding someone’s hand ever felt so right?
After securing the front door, Maeve went off in search of candles while he made dinner, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and water. With the electricity out they were back in camping mode. Both were silent as they devoured their dinner before heading upstairs.
“You can sleep in here.” She opened the door to reveal a large guestroom. The carpet underfoot was blood red with gold accents and heavy oak furnishings. “The bathroom is through that door, and my room is across the hall. Leave your door open and call if you need anything.”
“Thanks…you were a huge help out there, Maeve.”
Her eyes were solemn, and her smile was fleeting. “You saved my life and those of my friends. I owe you big time.” With that, she turned and presented him with a pert backside as she walked to the room across from his.
Too tired to discern the puzzle of her words, he walked into his room. A hot shower and a long nap were the only two things he wanted right now.
Well, and one stunning redhead in his bed would be appreciated too.
Then again, he was so tired he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t fall asleep before the first kiss. After a quick search, he noted there were no towels hanging either on the racks or in the cabinet. He walked into the hall and approached her door.
“Maeve?”
Silence.
Stepping into the doorway, he found her lying facedown in the center of her bed. She was still fully dressed, with one boot on while its mate lay on the floor. A candle burned on the dresser, casting dancing shadows in the room. She was sound asleep.
Quinn smiled. In sleep, her shields were down and the vulnerable woman was revealed. She may think she was strong enough to take on the world, but right now she resembled a child exhausted after a long day of play.
Gently, he removed her boot and placed it with its mate. The sheath for her boot blade was securely strapped to her leg, and he removed it. After finding the blade on the bed near her hand, he slipped it home then laid it on the nightstand.
Grabbing the duvet from the foot of the bed, he spread it over her. She mumbled something and snuggled deeper into its warmth. Even with those stunning eyes closed, she looked so sweet and tempting, all soft and rumpled in her sleep. He felt the familiar tingle of arousal and realized not only would he not fall asleep before the first kiss, when he did get her into his bed they’d be lucky if they got any sleep at all.
Rounding the bed, he climbed in beside her. As if she knew he was near, she mumbled something in her sleep then moved to snuggle against him. He slid his arm around her, pulling her closer. Reaching for the duvet, he covered both of them in a cocoon of downy warmth.
As he drifted off to sleep, a soft snore erupted from the warm bundle in his arms. Outside the thunder and lightning continued, further testament to Mortianna’s fury.
Chapter Six
Maeve nailed the punching bag with a brutal right hook, reveling in the jolt of resistance that sang up her arm. There were times when being immortal had its compensations. The bruise on her jaw was gone, and her shoulder was almost completely healed. Only the faintest ache remained. Hmm…maybe the Council could use that as an advertising slogan.
Come one, come all—become an immortal and live forever. Fringe benefits include longevity, some enhanced psychic abilities and fast healing. Break your leg and you’ll be walking again in two days. All it takes is one little bite…
Her sister’s image, one of her lying dead on a filthy warehouse floor, came to mind and she scowled. Then again, maybe not. She jabbed the bag with a left, then another right.
She was close to achieving her goal now, justice for her sister, retribution for herself and finally, a small measure of peace for their family. With Mikhail’s death, her job would be complete.
Now the next question was, did Quinn know how to perform the binding spell and if he did, would he teach her? He was the child of the most fearsome witch alive. Her chances were good that he held the knowledge she needed to be successful.
Now to convince him.
She attacked the bag with a backspin kick that would’ve felled a grown man. Then she spun around and delivered a stunning carotid blow designed to kill a mortal in the blink of an eye.
But it wasn’t enough for a vampire, especially not an elder.
Her movements slowed. She could try a wooden stake, garlic and holy water, but the book had indicated these methods were far more dangerous than the binding spell. In order to use any of those options, she’d have to get within striking distance of a creature who could kill her more efficiently than a well-placed carotid strike. While she didn’t fear death, she couldn’t afford to make a mistake and get killed before her plan was carried out. If she failed—no, she wouldn’t think about that.
Mikhail must die, and if she needed the spell to do it, so be it.
The vampire had destroyed her family. Most of all, he’d taken the life of her twin, her other half. Without Reb by her side, Maeve felt lost, powerless as if someone had torn away half of her soul. As with most twins, they’d had a bond, a connection that was both co
mforting and unsettling. Now, when she reached for that nether place where her sister had dwelt, she was met only with silence. Maeve had been alone, truly alone, for the past ten years.
Damn him.
Tears spilled over as she pummeled the punching bag, anger and frustration spurring each movement. Sweat poured down her face, mingling with her tears as she envisioned the vampire’s face in place of the bag. A primal cry caught in her throat and she lashed out, battering the image of the man who’d destroyed her life.
Punch.
Jab, jab.
Kick.
Jab.
Thwack.
A tearing sound shook her concentration and, with a thud, the punching bag fell to the floor. Her breath raged in her lungs, and she bent over and propped her hands on her knees, struggling for control. A seam had burst on top of the bag and stuffing exploded from the hole. She’d dispatched her first victim.
If only killing a vampire were so easy.
Quinn entered the room as the punching bag fell to the floor. Maeve stood over the decimated bag dressed in skintight black bike shorts and a matching athletic bra. Every inch of delectable woman was outlined in black Lycra. Her hair was caught in a long braid of fire down her back, and the mehndi tattoo stood out against her pale skin.
His cock stirred. With every minute spent with her, his desire only grew stronger. The more he learned about her, the more he wanted to know. She intrigued him in a way that was new, exciting. Maeve Leigh intoxicated him.
Images of bending her lithe body over a weight bench and taking her from behind crowded his mind. Flesh straining, hands questing. His breath hissed through his teeth as lust pooled hot and thick in his groin.
“Did you come to watch or work out?”
Her breathless voice shattered his heated fantasies. She walked toward him. Her movements were easy, graceful. She was a woman at home in her own skin, confident, self-assured and every man’s fantasy.
“I’m a lover, not a fighter.” He offered her a smile.
An answering smile quirked her lips. “Most fail to realize that both can be equally…exciting.”
She’s flirting with me.
“However…” his smile grew, “…one has a much more satisfying ending.”
Bold as brass, she looked him up and down before spearing him with her emerald gaze. Her eyes held a wealth of experience, and in that moment he realized she knew what she was doing to him and she was enjoying it.
“Only if it’s done right,” she drawled.
His palms burned with the desire to touch her. “I haven’t had any complaints.”
“As if you’d admit if you did.” She chuckled. Gesturing for him to follow, she turned and presented him with a toned backside. She led him past the weight machines to an open area covered with thick, navy-blue exercise mats.
“So what do you know about self-defense?” she asked.
“Enough to keep myself out of trouble.” He wasn’t sure he wanted to admit he’d earned his black belt in Tae Kwan Do a few years ago. He had enjoyed watching her so much, he wouldn’t mind her showing him a thing or two.
“What do you want to try?”
How about you naked, under me, over me, beside me? Your choice.
He hid his grin by rubbing his chin as if contemplating her question. “How about some of the basics? What should I do if someone comes up and grabs me from behind?”
“You mean like this?” She moved behind him and slid her arms around his body.
The scent of warm woman surrounded him and made his head swim. She pinned his arms to his waist, effectively disabling him. Her breasts, contained by the torturous-looking bra, were sturdy mounds against his back. He stifled a groan when he felt her erect nipples press into him. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
“Since you’re both taller and physically stronger, you can break my hold by throwing your body forward.” He was pleased to hear her voice sounded off pitch as if she were out of breath. “However, if I were a man, you’d want to aim for the vulnerable areas.”
He winced at the thought of anything striking his most vulnerable area right at this moment. With each passing second it became a larger target to hit.
“You’ll want to lift your right leg and bring it down on my foot, hard. Aim for the instep. That should be enough to break my hold. Once you break my hold, bring your arms up like this.” She demonstrated how to escape.
“Like this?” He mimicked her movements and freed himself.
“Exactly.”
“That seems easy enough.” His breath came hard when she stepped away from him. “And if they grab me from the front?”
“That’s even easier. All you have to do is—”
“Wait—”
Before he could stop her, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him once more. This time, they were face-to-face, and there was no hiding his erection in this position.
Yes, I’m very happy to see you.
Maeve lifted her head, and their gazes met. Her pupils were dilated, and her breathing quickened. She licked her lips, drawing his attention to her lovely mouth. He wanted to lick her, taste her, bite her, name it, he wanted to do it with her and to her.
Oh hell.
Sliding his arms around her, he cupped her hips and brought her closer. Her eyes widened when his erect cock pressed into the soft flesh of her stomach. He shuddered when he realized they were a perfect fit. Fuck, he was ready to come, and he hadn’t even kissed her yet.
“What if I don’t want to get free?” he whispered. Her breath licked his mouth, notching his arousal higher. Damn, he could almost taste her.
“Then I guess you’d better be able to follow through.” Her voice was faint.
He swayed from side to side, ever so slightly. The friction of her body against his hard flesh was heady. “Mmm, I don’t think you need to worry about that.”
Quinn dipped his head and nuzzled her damp collarbone, enjoying the scent of aroused woman and healthy sweat. His tongue snaked out to tickle a path from the base of her neck to just below her earlobe. She quivered when he nipped the tender flesh. She was a delight to the senses, and he couldn’t wait to—
Without warning, she shoved him back and escaped his grasp. She hooked a leg behind his, and he fell backward onto the cushioned mats. With a soft cry, she landed on top of him, her fingers tearing at his clothing. Buttons popped from his shirt as she shredded the placket in her eagerness.
Arousal ran hot and thick in his blood by the time he rolled her beneath him. If he didn’t taste her soon, he’d explode before he could get his pants off. He swooped and captured her mouth. Hot and sweet, she took him deep, her tongue wrestling with his as her busy hands ripped the shirt from his back.
Their kiss was noisy, more about greed than finesse, and she ate at his mouth like a starving woman. Soft moans sounded from her throat when she sucked his tongue, driving sensation directly to his throbbing groin. She nipped his lower lip before breaking the kiss. With eager hands, she tugged at the buttons of his jeans. Quinn braced his hands on the mat and raised his hips to give her better access. Enthralled, he watched the frantic movements of the woman who was about to become his lover. Eyes wild, breathing erratic, lips swollen from his kisses, she was exquisite and he wanted more.
“God, you’re beautiful.”
To his surprise, she scowled at him. “Shut up.”
She tangled her fingers in his hair and dragged his mouth to hers. Together, they rolled across the mats, each battling to touch and taste more of the other. Their bodies entangled and soon they ran out of mat. She ended on top, her thighs parting to embrace his hips. The cold floor tiles beneath his back were a sharp contrast to the heat of the woman above him.
“Wait.”
“You’re talking again,” she growled. She nipped his lower lip.
“I have to know,” he panted. “What are you to St. James?”
“Friends.” She licked his chin.
“Ju
st friends?”
“Yes.” She nibbled a fiery path along his jaw.
“Not lovers?”
“Nope.” She bit his earlobe.
A sigh of relief escaped him. “Good. I was—”
“Why are you still talking?”
All thoughts of the vampire flew from his mind when her hand plunged into the front of his jeans, and her nimble fingers encircled his cock. His eyes rolled back in his head when she squeezed the shaft gently, causing sparks to arc before his eyes. Damn, she had great hands but if she didn’t stop, he wouldn’t last long enough to enjoy her at all and he wanted that very badly.
Panting, he reached for her wrists.
“You have too many clothes on,” he said.
A wicked smile curved her swollen mouth. “Not for long.”
She grasped the bottom of her bra, whipped it over her head and tossed it aside. Her full breasts bounded free, and he reached for her again. Shaking her head, she rose to her feet, stripping her shorts as she moved. Kicking them to the side, she stood over him, nude.
Damn, she was beautiful.
His cock gave a twitch as if in invitation to her. She slipped to her knees over him, this time wrapping her hand around the base of his cock. Adjusting herself, she positioned him at her entrance and, with a heady sigh, took him deep.
She surrounded him like living silk, hot velvet, slick and tight. He captured her hips and adjusted her angle to catch her sweet spot dead-on. A moan broke from her lips, and she drew her thighs tight to his hips, rubbing her lower body against him. With each tiny movement an answering noise sounded from her throat. She reached for his hands and guided them to her breasts, showing him exactly how she liked to be touched.
Then she began to move.
Head tipped back, she lifted her body from his only to return, barely giving him time to draw breath. She moved easily, her athlete’s body rocking in harmony with his as her pace increased. The tip of her braid tickled his legs as her groaning cries echoed throughout the room. Her screams increased in volume as she slammed her body against his. She tightened around him and suddenly it was over for her.
