Carl (Guardians In Love Book 4)

by Brianna West

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  In a final ditch-effort to get the upper hand, grey and blue magic seeped from Niko. I barely managed to hold onto my foresight long enough to see where he intended to move, giving me only a half second to counter. Conall’s eyes shot over to me, his green barrier materializing from the floor and thickening around us. In a blink, he’d taken a hold of me and embraced my body with all of his strength.

  My stomach dropped and then was immediately knotted up with the sudden sensation of teleportation, which hit me with a force that nearly dislodged Conall’s hold on me. We collided with ground before another flood of green eclipsed us. The impact echoed painfully through my already weakened frame, stealing the very air from my lungs.

  Barely recovering from the first one, I was thrown into the weightless vertigo of magical travel for a second time; overwhelmed by the nauseous twisting in my belly before we were making another hard impact with unrelenting ground. I’d landed on top of Conall, straddling his waist with my hands firmly planted onto his chest.

  Pain frayed through every part of my body, as if I’d been torn apart, piece by piece, and then fitted back together. Magical travel was uncomfortable even when practiced to perfection. But when the caster was doing it the way Conall had, seeking to travel a long distance in teleportal jumps, it was excruciatingly painful and left its victims paralyzed by its torturous effects for long, terrible minutes afterwards.

  There weren’t words to describe the torment that persisted in those minutes after we’d arrived in some sort of snow-covered forest. Not even the hard bite of cold as my knees sunk into white slush could come close to the after-travel anguish. I attempted to recover from the havoc it had instilled within me, panting in sharp drags.

  Coughing, Conall’s eyes shut as a low, painful groan rumbled from his chest. “Bugger, that hurts.”

  “Are you some sort of fucking idiot?!” I barked loudly, when I could finally breathe again. “What kind of superior goes on a suicide mission to rescue someone without informing anyone? Are you so desperate to meet your end that you can’t tell one goddamn person where you are?!”

  I’d taken Conall by the collar of his shirt, yanking his shoulders off the ground while still pinning the lower half of his body to the thick blanket of snow beneath us, submerging him in the wet slush. His green eyes were widened with surprise as I snarled angrily at him and tightened my hold on his shirt, my hands shaking violently.

  When he said nothing, I clicked my tongue, emotion swelling inside my chest unlike it ever had before and then, reluctantly, I released his shirt. Before I could pull my hands away, Conall was grabbing them and keeping me from standing up.

  Luminous green eyes fixed to my face, searching my expression intently. Conall’s red hair was matted down by the wet snow, some of it sticking to his fair skin. His thin shirt was fusing to his skin with all the water soaking into it. Every muscle and line was being clung to by the transparent white fabric of his plain t-shirt. Every deep groove and subtle color, including the dusky nipples I couldn’t help staring at, was left exposed. If I hadn’t been so angry, I would’ve been enamored with how amazing he looked surrounded by a white canvas of snow, with every part of his strong torso lain bare for my eyes to feast on.

  “You’re right, of course. Even for me that was reckless.”

  His sarcastic smile effectively disarmed me, forcing me to sigh in defeat. I tried to prize my hands from his, but his grip instantly tightened. There was an emotion I didn’t quite understand ablaze in his eyes as he held me there, his jaw taut while the muscles between my thighs hardened to stone. Alarmed by the sudden sexual tension between us, I tried to pull away again.

  “Let go,” I demanded, unusually breathless.

  Conall’s strength kept me from escaping as he dragged me down, making me bend at the waist and hover uncomfortably close to his face. “I haven’t been quite myself since you came around,” he admitted softly, his accent coming out stronger and tainting the words in an unfortunately sexier manner than usual.

  His body tensed before he lifted slightly and chased my fleeing form as I attempted to keep our faces from colliding. “When I felt your distress and then realized you were gone, I couldn’t think. I’d spent all night fighting your lure, only to lose you the minute I finally let you go.”

  I listened with bated breath, all of the anger I’d felt up to that point seeping from me after hearing the forlorn note to his confession. Conall’s face was inches from mine, the soft hues of pale yellow and specks of gold in his green eyes crystal clear with the close distance. I was suddenly mesmerized by them.

  “Before I realized, I was already tracking you halfway across Europe. Don’t really know how I got there myself, now that I think about it,” Conall admitted, grinning mischievously. “I was just as surprised to see you as you were me, if I’m being honest.”

  Unable to hold onto my anger, I exhaled deeply and nodded. “It was rude of me to chastise you. I’m grateful that you helped me escape.”

  Conall’s smile was radiant as he brushed a thumb across my cheek, cradling my face intimately. “I’m just relieved to see you well enough to lecture this reckless old sod.”

  Uncomfortable, I endeavored to get up again. Conall finally relented, releasing my hands so I could stand up and look around. Getting to his feet, the soaked Irishman peered down at his clothes with a cocky smile.

  “I look absolutely debauched!” he squealed, feigning shock. “Who let me out of the house like this!”

  “It’s a wonder why they ever let you out at all.”

  Conall’s eyes danced with delight. “If they could, they’d keep me locked up. I can’t be contained! The world must know my adorable charms!”

  Smirking, I ignored the belligerent Irishman in favor of scenting the air to see where we could go from here.

  Another thing about magical transportation was that it required a great deal of power to accomplish. Not many could do it, let alone in jumps like Conall had. I was surprised we survived the ordeal and, if I were honest, a little impressed that he could do it under the dire circumstances we were under.

  The only other person I’d known to magically travel as well as that was Pavel. The Russian warlock-faerie, who had been Lucas’ partner, was immensely talented and revered for his abilities. He’d been the first to train me in long-distance magical travel, though I’d never accomplish it to the same level as he did. But, unlike my idiotic brother, I managed short distances with ease. However, I knew how much it drained our power to do it. Especially on the scale Conall had. It was surprising that Conall hadn’t collapsed in the minutes after arriving.

  Smiling against my will, I peeked over at him before walking a few paces ahead. “I can smell a town not far from here. Unless you’re hiding a phone and a change of clothes in those pajama pants you’re wearing, I imagine we don’t have any other option but to walk and find a place to stay.”

  Conall grinned playfully, while making a show of patting his pockets down. “If I’d been the clever sort and not a total gobshite, I’d brought two pants’ worth of necessities and another pair of underwear, for that matter.”

  I was barely holding back from smiling at the total nonsense Conall was spouting. I didn’t want Conall to think I approved of his antics, especially since it could’ve gotten him killed.

  “I’m surprised you still managed to bring a weapon, seeing how you forgot everything else,” I retorted dryly, taking large steps and attempting to put some much-needed distance between the soaked Irishman and I.

  Conall clumped through the snow beside me, proving that even vampires could be obnoxiously loud walkers. “I don’t go anywhere without Jenny.”

  I knew I shouldn’t bother asking, but with nothing else to talk about, I did anyway. “Who’s Jenny?”

  “My nifty dagger,” Conall responded, lifting said dagger with sparkling eyes. “She’s my one and only love. Saved my throat more times than I can count.”

&n
bsp; “Probably from other women who didn’t appreciate your affection like she does,” I teased, finally feeling a bit more like myself now that all of the chaos had settled.

  I absently thought of my favorite Glock. It had been a gift, and become somewhat of a security blanket over the years. I felt naked without it holstered to my belt but, at the very least, I was glad that it hadn’t been left anywhere I couldn’t retrieve it.

  Conall barked a laugh, nodding a little too happily. “Right you are. See, I knew we’d get on well.”

  “If this is what you think getting along looks like, I’d hate to see what holds true of the latter.”

  The tension from being kidnapped and faced with the ghosts of my past had somehow been eased with the back and forth banter. Even though I was eager to speak with Victor, I knew that there was no sense in letting it unsettle me.

  Being a Guardian as long as I had been, it was vital that I didn’t let what was occurring with Niko to get to me. I could very easily lose myself in it, and I’d only survived thus far because of my ability to push down my emotions in favor of due process. I never lost sight of a goal, but I did it with the proper procedures in place.

  Having escaped for now, there was no reason for me to hover over what could’ve been. Once I’d spoken with Victor and expressed my desire to convince Niko, only then could I feel free to do something about it. But until then, I’d worry about finding a place for us to change our clothes and contact headquarters.

  If we were in better shape, we could use some magic to help fix things, but I was barely keeping myself upright at this point. Using magic would only lead to an all-out collapse.

  Chapter Eight

  The bed and breakfast we’d stumbled upon was the only place we could stay and freshen ourselves up for miles, as the owner informed us when we’d inquired after where we were. Somehow, we’d managed to travel beyond Ireland and instead to somewhere in Dartmoor, near Princeton.

  The homeowner was an elderly woman, whose short bob and bottle-thick glasses only served to endear her more to me. Whether or not I’d freely admit it, I was raised to be a southern boy with all the southern hospitalities. And while I never realized I was so keen on them, elderly women were one of my few soft spots. Patience, the elderly woman who walked with a limp to her side and smiled like there wasn’t a sadness she’d seen in all of her eighty years, was extremely hard of hearing, so it took a great deal of effort just to find out if there were any available rooms. When she led us upstairs, it was only to a single room with a single bed to be shared.

  Her eyes trailed from Conall to me before she smiled brightly, giggling secretively to herself. “You make a very lovely couple. You’ll find everything you need inside the room. Breakfast is at eight. And don’t bother yourselves over keeping your voices down. I’m an old woman and I sleep like the dead.” Winking, she turned and hurried down the corridor without a single glance backwards.

  I was left flabbergasted in her wake, my soft spot for sweet elderly women making it difficult to comprehend her progressive insinuation, while the steadily louder laughter behind me was evidence that Conall was having a very different reaction to the mistaken assumption.

  “Well, darling, should we freshen up a bit?” Conall snickered to himself, enjoying the glare I sent him over my shoulder. “We can be as loud as we want, she says.”

  Eyes narrowed, I pushed past the giggling Irishman and searched the room for a phone, still reeling from Patience’s smooth speech. “Go on and shower. I’ll call Victor,” I commanded, holding the receiver to my ear and trying to control my racing heartbeat, which hadn’t calmed since I’d straddled Conall in the snow.

  The door clicked behind me, the sound of it setting my nerves on edge for some reason. Shaking away the unusual anxiety, I began to dial Victor’s personal line. But I sensed Conall coming closer, the sudden scuffing of his deliberate steps making it difficult to focus on the numbers I was pressing. And before I had time to ponder his reason for heading towards me and not where the bathroom was, his hot breath encased my ear and his cool heat pressed into my back.

  Dropping his forehead onto my shoulder, I felt Conall breathe me in. A shiver raced down my spine as his lips trailed over my shoulder to the wet skin at the back of my neck. Hackles raised, I shifted away as much as I could, but Conall’s hands grasped my hips and kept me from going very far.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Your scent is driving me mad,” Conall whispered huskily, his teeth scraping over the protruding notch in my spine. “I’ve barely held on until now. I’m up to ninety. I don’t know how much longer I can hold off. It’s making me absolutely mental.”

  The scent of his arousal was so potent it was actually debilitating to be surrounded by it, and the sensation of his lips and teeth had my stomach twisting into tight knots. My pulse had already taken off, but his scent was now giving me the oddest sensation in my belly—a warm sort of burning that gradually rose into my throat. With my head growing foggy, I was having a hard time catching my thoughts, or even thinking at all.

  The hand holding the phone weakened with each touch he paid to the back of my neck, the friction strangely entrancing. When his mouth trailed the curve of my neck and shoulder, I finally dropped the phone entirely. His teeth grazed the flesh, one of his fingers drawing away the snow-soaked fabric of my shirt in order to expose more of my shoulder. Tensing, I fought the sound desperate to leave my throat.

  This was wrong. I shouldn’t be letting him touch me. I should be fighting back with my usual strength. But I couldn’t find the willpower to escape him. His scent was draining any strength of will I had left.

  “I need to call Victor,” I said slowly, thoughts scattering as Conall’s lips trailed nonsensical patterns over my skin. “He’ll send someone to…”

  Conall’s tongue swiped along the line of my neck, instinct causing me to bend it away so that he could reach more of the skin. “It can wait. No need to be so prompt all of the time.”

  As his mouth continued to pay special attention to the skin of my neck, Conall’s hand slipped beneath the hem of my shirt and slid up over my abdominals. He stroked the pads of his fingers over every deviation along my stomach before reaching over with the other hand and lifting the fabric all the way up to expose my panting torso.

  “I’ve thought of nothing else but tasting you again.”

  Conall’s body pressed firmly into my backside, locking me against the bedside table where the phone rested. His solid weight against mine felt so damn good that I was momentarily stricken by it. I felt every curve, every hard muscle, and there wasn’t any mistake that Conall was aroused. Not only by his lustful scent that was currently making my head sway, but because it was firmly pressed into my backside.

  “Conall,” was all I managed to utter as I swallowed around another groan bent on leaving my throat.

  Conall took the lobe of my ear between his teeth, tugging it gently before licking around the shell. “Has anyone touched you like this, Carl? Were they able to make you moan and pant? Because I will. I’ll have you begging for more before morning comes.”

  Oh Lord, have mercy on me.

  The husk of his voice trembled against my ear as his hands stroked over my thighs, increasing the subtle quake in my overtaxed body. Faltering, I braced my weight onto one hand by using the wall ahead of me. Fingers teased over the rim of my pants before Conall grasped me around the hips and dragged me backwards, bringing my rear harder into him. My head dropped forward as a small groan escaped my lips, the new sensations tearing apart my hard-fought control.

  “You can’t…” I pleaded, unable to pull away from the intoxicating pleasure he was giving me.

  I’d never felt like this, not in all of my years. Losing control had never felt so good. My head was a jumbled mess. I couldn’t make sense out of anything. Being touched and overpowered, it was like a craving I never knew was inside of me. The yearning for more was growing in my belly. Nee
ding. Wanting. Desperate for him.

  Conall’s hips pushed into me from behind, his hand cupping the strained erection I was already sporting. “Do you want me to stop?”

  My legs were shaking so violently that I could barely keep myself upright. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Neither rejecting nor accepting him, all I could manage to do was pant with great effort while Conall’s hand wrapped around my throat and forced my head to fall backwards onto his hard shoulder.

  Conall’s mouth touched where the blood was quickly thrumming at the side of my neck, the sharp feeling of his fangs dragging across it before he drew away. “If you tell me to stop, I will. Just say the word.”

  The yearning had grown to uncomfortable levels, making my entire body tremble. My legs would surely give out at any moment. I’d never been so out of control.

  My weight shifted as I struggled to keep from collapsing, pushing back into Conall’s solid body at the last second to stabilize myself. Then, I unconsciously undulated my hips, hearing the sharp intake next to my ear as I inadvertently rubbed Conall’s front, where his arousal had hardened him. The sound of his surprise sent a jolt right through me. I suddenly had an overwhelming urge to do it again. I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t help myself. I pressed back into him, making Conall’s hand fly to my hip and grasp me painfully as a short grunt left his lips.

  “Feck it,” Conall cursed, roughly twisting me around to face him.

  Green eyes suddenly violent, he slammed me hard into the wall, making it shudder with the impact. My head hit with a low thump, the abrupt collision baffling me for a short second. A glass frame shattered on the wood floor as Conall took my face into his hands and crashed our mouths together, passionately kissing me for the second time since I’d met him. My hands raised and took hold of his wrists, but I couldn’t find the will to drag his hands away.

  Instead, I found myself kissing him back with just as much passion as he was, his fang nicking my lip in all the chaos and dislodging a grunt from my throat. Conall groaned, lapping at the blood greedily. He hurriedly sucked my bottom lip into his mouth and then kissed me again so that his tongue could collide with mine. The metallic taste of my blood passed between us, which was oddly arousing. Pulling away, Conall’s green eyes were already bleeding to red. His jaw clenched and unclenched as he inhaled in quick, short pants, the look in his eyes purely primal.