by N P Hector
Selene jumped over the tangle of limbs on the floor and ran as fast as she could towards the doorway.
It didn’t take her long to realize that the space between her bedroom door and front door was filled with at least 25 men and women, all with a circular brand on their upper arms.
Joan had managed to produce a dagger and stab the first attacker. The man disappeared into a flash of light. She quickly struck two more and they were also dispatched in a flash. Selene felt a woman and man grab her arms and begin to haul her towards a swirling portal behind the couch.
Well, if I can’t overpower them, I can at least make the job more difficult.
Although every muscle in her body was tensing for a fight, Selene forced herself to drop into dead weight. Her kidnappers groaned under her weight and struggled to lift her ungainly body. It was a trick she had learned on the playground on the kid. She didn’t know the science behind it, but it was harder to drag dead weight on the floor than it was to lift it.
A quick glance at Joan revealed that she was fighting off multiple attackers at once. She moved like a dancer and was inspiringly fearless.
But there were cuts all over her body, and she dragged her left foot slightly. She was an amazing fighter. Flashing lights were surrounding her, but with at least five attackers, Joan was suffering shots to her legs, arms, and torso.
Selene struggled even harder as she was lifted and towed towards the swirling black portal. She heard Joan scream in frustration. But then there was the loud collision of flesh on flesh. It was loud like a car hitting a brick wall. She heard a thump and then the flashes slowed.
Just as she was feet away from being dragged through the swirling vortex, another oval appeared and a figure in all black stepped through.
As she tossed her head side to side and fought to gain her legs, Selene was only able to catch a glimpse of the man. Romulus.
He glanced around the room quickly and then lasered in on the man and woman holding her twisting body. With a roar, his eyes turned entirely silver and a sword appeared in his hand. He cut through the people between them. Swinging his sword and moving like a predator his gaze was entirely locked on her. When he felt that he had removed enough obstacles he threw out his hand.
At first she thought that he was throwing something like a small dagger. But she realized that she was wrong when the portal she was being dragged towards suddenly slammed shut.
The woman dropped her legs and began yelling at the others to target Romulus. Left with a single assailant, Selene now had the opportunity to fight back. Biting her teeth into the man’s arm, she also stomped her heel down on the man’s foot. Howling in anger, the man threw her against the wall.
She felt the back of her head collide with the shelf and her selective collection of antique teacups and books crash to the floor. She struggled to get up but clutched her head. She just couldn’t seem to push her feet into the ground to step up.
Her whole living room was a flurry of spinning, unsteady movement. She felt the world shift and clutched for the wall, anything, to steady herself.
Joan arrived beside her and was clutching her side, bright red blood seeping between her fingers. “Selene! Are you alright?” Joan’s voice sounded muted, and Selene shook her head as if to dispel the cotton in her ears. She could still see Romulus from the corner of her eye.
Selene wasn’t sure if it was the hit she took to her head, or if he was actually moving that fast. In the midst of hacking at the swarm of attackers in her tiny living room, he turned so fast his long grey white blonde hair whished around his face. His eyes were completely silver. He slaughtered one man diagonally at the waist. Breathing heavily, his great chest rising and falling with exertion, he looked through the crowd.
Once he found her bleeding and resting against Joan’s shoulder, he let out a mighty roar and slammed his sword into the floor. Kneeling with his sword, a large wall of energy slammed through the room like a wave. All the attackers disappeared in a flash of light. Miraculously, a sparkling bubble-like dome had appeared around Selene and Joan.
At this point, she was feeling more nauseous than relieved. She felt her shoulders and arms go numb, and suddenly she was against a hard chest, her forehead tucked under Romulus’s chin. She could feel his heart beating rapidly against her chin. His strong arms holding her close. She wanted to reach up and touch his face, to thank him for coming to save them. But just as she opened her mouth to thank him, she promptly threw up. And then they were through the waterslide/portal once more.
Selene woke to find herself in a very comfortable, large, canopied bed. Her head was sore when she turned to the left. Groaning softly and turning her head the other way, she gingerly felt around the back of her head. Finding that her brain seemed to be intact, she moaned in relief.
It her to move her head but she felt an urgency to know exactly where she was. She didn’t recognize the room and it’s pearly wainscoting and thick curtains confirmed that it was not a hospital.
Her eyes moved to a man leaning against the large hearth. One arm was outstretched as to rest on the stone mantle. His other hand rested on his hip, and he leaned forward in thought. The light white hair pulled back at his neck and the muscular stance immediately made him recognizable. He looked like he was carved of marble.
Selene expected to feel scared that she was in a strange room with this man. Rationally, she knew she should be. But instead, she felt comforted by his presence.
He must have heard her stirring in the satin sheets. He lifted his head and they made eye contact. Usually, Selene would have felt the urge to babble rise. But they just stared at each other, suspended in time. There was no pressure to speak. No urge to squirm and make small talk.
Looking at each other in the calm silence was enough. It was more than enough.
Pushing away from the mantle he ate up the distance between them in long strides. A glass of water from the bedside table floated up. She struggled to lift herself up using her forearms and elbows but found that her head felt heavy and her neck weak.
What the hell happened?
“Shhh… may I help you?” His voice was gravelly as if he hadn’t used it in a long while. She was surprised that he would ask permission for something so simple but found herself nodding as much as her neck would allow.
He re-arranged the pillows at her back and helped her to lean back. Taking the glass of water, he handed it to her. “You took a hit to the head last night. Somehow Kem’s minions got into your apartment last night.” He clenched his jaw and looked away. “I barely got there in time.”
Her throat was sore as she nodded. She was only able to manage a raspy “did...did someone bring me to a doctor?” She rubbed her forehead.
God, did they remember to bring her identification? How am I going to explain this to the doctor? The guys at work won’t leave me alone until I tell them who hurt me.
He pulled a chair to sit next to the bed. “We have a doctor in house. Laura. You’ll see her later.”
Well, thank god for small miracles. At least that dealt with the issue of identification and seeking human medical attention. But that didn’t solve the second part of her problem. Feeling immediately anxious, she needed to ask, “what time is it?” What did these people have against clocks? There wasn’t one anywhere in this room.
“It’s 2pm Wednesday.”
That really had Selene scrambling. Had she really slept through the whole day? She was surprised the guys at work weren’t already looking for her dead body.
How the hell am I going to explain this?
“I need to call--”
He pulled out his cellphone and put it on the bed beside her. “Joan called your work this morning to let them know that you were taking a sick day.” He had a sardonic grin. “It appears that you don’t usually take sick days?”
Selene laughed, “poor Joan, she probably thought it would be a simple call. Who’d she get, Marty?”
“Someone named Ashley?”
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br /> Selene laughed and pulled herself up a bit more. When he gave a puzzled look at her response she felt the need to explain why she was laughing like a loon. “Ashley’s our lead interrogator and one of my friends. I bet she gave Joan a run for her money.”
Romulus thought back to meeting with Joan after the phone call. The woman had stormed into the room and slammed his cell phone on his desk. She had practically hissed at him for making her deal with it and threatened to do some serious damage if he made her call Selene’s work again. “That she did.”
“So, Joan’s ok? She was bleeding-- I think.” Selene rubbed her forehead as if to clear her memory. God, her head hurt.
He reclined in the chair he had practically dragged over and propped a hand on his outstretched knee. He looked completely at home with his tailored shirt and the firelight at his back. He sat patiently and comfortably beside the large bed. “Her mate’s healing her.”
Selene raised an eyebrow. “Joan has a mate?”
The sharp contour of his face was softened by a smile. His dark eyes searched her face. “I’m more surprised that was your question and that you’re not asking me about healing.”
“If mates could do that you would have already healed me.”
He shook his head and moved his hands so they were together. “I didn’t want to touch you while you were asleep.” Raising a finger, he shook his head “let me correct--- I wanted to touch you but didn’t want to without your consent. You were asleep.” She raised a disbelieving eyebrow at his statement. He felt obligated to explain. “I would never dishonor you or myself that way.”
“So now that I’m awake...um...would you mind, please?”
He couldn’t help but chuckle. “So eager to embrace magik. I would have thought you were a disbeliever.”
She shook her head and then winced at the movement. She gestured towards her head, “my brain is my money maker. I can’t afford to be out of commission.”
She looked him up and down and was then silent a moment as she thought about the complications associated with letting a stranger play with her head. She turned pale as the bedsheets when she realized that some stranger with strange magik would be playing with her brain. She looked at him suspiciously. “It won’t…. you know?” she waved to her head.
“I wouldn’t do anything to harm you. You might feel a bit of warmth, but that’s about it. May I?”
She gulped and then moved closer to him. He put out his hand to stop her and indicated that he would come to her. Standing from his seat he unfurled to his great height. He moved to sit on the side of the bed and leaned into her.
She began to adjust to lean forward, but he gently nudged her back. His hands and his eyes were tender. He seemed pained that she was injured. “It’s ok, you just relax. Tell me to stop if anything hurts, ok?”
She expected his hands to be cold and his bedside manner to be cool. He gave off this massive aura of power and she had seen him brutally cut down people he perceived to be his enemy. Now, leaning over her, he was an imposing figure. His shoulders and biceps that had wielded a weapon hours ago were now on either side of her. But where they had once been used for violence they were now comforting.
Instead of baring his teeth and sporting a murderous look he searched her face for any hints of pain. She thought he’d clench her head like a wanna-be psychic. But she should have known that he’d be gentle. Endearingly so.
He had such strong hands, but he cradled her face like she was made of glass. His thumbs kissed her cheekbones gently, and they were so close she thought that if she leaned forward ever so slightly, she might be able to slide her lips across his.
She wondered what it would be like to kiss him. To pull him close and to feel those arms surround her waist.
A warm glow-- this one not from the fireplace-- filled the space. She could hear him murmuring something under his breath. But he spoke so softly that she couldn’t hear a word. A warm breeze of air lifted the ends of her hair, and she felt a tingle at the base of her head.
As promised, it didn’t actually hurt that much. Instead, it felt more akin to the sensation she felt when a limb “falls asleep.” Little pin pricks dotted the base of her neck and she resisted the urge to touch the spot where his hands had passed.
The glow ebbed slowly until they were under the canopy bed with just the firelight. Here was this beautiful, strong man, cradling her like precious spun glass.
She had read somewhere that staring into someone’s eyes for thirty seconds or more could make a couple fall in love. Looking up at his deep, dark eyes she could almost believe it. He had the body of the warrior and the soul of a healer. And now, he looked at her as if he was a poet and she was the muse.
Their foreheads were almost touching. His minty breath fanned out across her nose. Healed now, she reached up a hand to feel the back of her head. Finding no sensitivity, she relaxed.
Using the same hand, she reached out and touched his cheek. She had been abrupt and dismissive when she spoke with him last time. Like a porcupine, she had thrown out barbs because she had felt cornered. But now, here with him in the bed, he was closer to her than he was the first day they met.
She understood now that this man could never do her any harm, and she felt a tinge of shame at the way she had treated him earlier. Despite all her efforts to push him away and to insult him he had waited for her to wake so he could heal her. She wasn’t very good at apologies, but she could muster a thanks. “Thank you, for healing me.”
His jaw was stubborn and set and proud and had a day’s worth of growth. His whiskers rubbed into her palm as he leaned into her hand. His hair had been pulled back in the usual way she’d seen him wear it, but its shoulder length silver strands fell to the side of her face as he leaned over her.
When she looked into his eyes she didn’t see a violent man, a leader of a powerful order. Instead, she saw a resolute passion. A man who would give her the world if he could.
Maybe it was the hit to the head. Maybe it was her brush with death. But Selene felt a sudden urge to throw caution to the wind and just live. She lifted her other hand until she cupped his face. She tangled her fingers in his hair and brought his lips down to hers.
Wow. She thought. THIS is what all those books were talking about.
His lips were firm and strong against hers. He seemed to be paralyzed by disbelief at first, but after she nipped at his bottom lip he growled low in his throat and began to kiss her in a way that took her breath away. He kissed her as if he couldn’t taste enough of her. Like he wanted to consume her wholly. Suddenly, she couldn’t be close enough to him. She wiggled underneath him and pulled him impossibly closer.
Forget about butterflies. This feels like fireworks.
His tongue swept through her mouth. His kiss was deep and possessive. With an impatient groan, he clasped both of his arms around her back and hugged her to him tightly.
Every inch of their skin touched, and it felt like liquid fire. He drew her into his lap and clutched her to him. She felt that this man wanted to consume her until she was a part of him.
Her arms were still tangled in his hair but now she sat with her legs across his, his one hand holding her neck to him so he could angle her head for the kiss, and the other bringing her just as close.
Wow, no adolescent pawing from him. This man could KISS.
Breathing heavily, he tore away from the kiss and pushed his hair from his face. His great chest and shoulders heaved with exertion, and he clenched his jaw. He had looked away from her, and so she gently turned his chin so she could see his face. She watched in shock as his eyes flickered from black to gunmetal silver.
Her hands were still tangled in the hair at the base of his neck. She removed her hand and traced his jaw down to his cheekbone. She blinked a few times. “Your eyes.”
He gently closed his lids and drew her to him again. The crown of her head was tucked into his chin, and his hands clenched and unclenched at her side as he breathed in an
d out slowly.
It sounded like he was chewing on stones when he said in a low, gravelly voice “my god, woman. How I want you.”
This man did not mess around. Selene had not expected to be so...consumed by the kiss. Her stomach quivered and she felt shaky. She wasn’t usually one to make such a bold move, but something about this man…
He drew the covers of the bed back and tucked her legs under the sheets. He gently pulled the sheet up until she was covered. With his hand still grasping the base of her neck, he lowered her slowly until she rested on the upright pillows again. His eyes still flashed but he seemed much more in control now. Resolute.
“The beautiful Selene. Here, in my bed. It’s enough to make me come undone.”
“You didn’t tell me that the healing process would...affect me so.”
He stood from the bed and placed the cell phone on the bedside table. Like a dark angel he loomed over her. Placing his forearms on the canopy, he rested his head against the structure.
“It doesn’t.”
Selene inhaled deeply. “that wasn’t the healing magik?”
Chuckling low, he stood away from the canopy and strode to the door like a man fleeing a house on fire. “No, my love.”
He opened the door and gave her one last penetrating gaze. “That was magik of your own making.”
Chapter Seven
..and when one of them meets the other half, the actual half of himself, whether he be a lover of youth or a lover of another sort, the pair are lost in an amazement of love and friendship and intimacy and one will not be out of the other's sight, as I may say, even for a moment...
-Plato
Romulus pushed against the heavy wooden doors and strode into the council room. He was still flustered from his heated encounter with Selene in the bedroom.
He remembered the softness of her skin and his fists clenched and unclenched. He couldn’t get enough of her and they’d barely known each other for more than a handful of days. If she continued to kiss him like that he’d be unable to focus on anything else for the rest of his rule.
