He almost thought of them as one soul, neither being able to survive without the other. The thought actually filled him with joy. To think that two were one seemed the very essence of love, and something that was rarely found.
But he had found it.
Why?
That was an odd question and one he felt he hadn’t asked, and yet it was there for him to comprehend. Why should he even question it? He instinctively knew that if he did question it, it would help him understand many things. He hopped out of bed, determined to pursue the thought.
He took a quick shower and slipped on black jeans and a black sweatshirt.
The knock at the door came as he left the bedroom and by the time he was descending the stairs Tempest had answered it.
He came up behind her, his arm wrapping protectively around her waist. He pulled her back firmly against him.
“What do you want?” he said to the man outside. He recognized him immediately. He was the man who had stared at him when they had lunch at Swan Inn. He didn’t care for him then and he cared even less for him now.
“I think it is time we talk.”
He had an emotionless voice and Michael instinctively knew that he possessed no compassion.
“I know you?” Michael asked, though he knew the answer and the thought that he once was connected with this pitiful man disturbed him.
Tempest remained silent, understanding this was for Michael to handle.
“You know me,” the man said with a single nod of his head. “And the time has come for us to talk.”
“There’s nothing for us to discuss,” Michael said with a firmness that Tempest felt rush over her.
“There is much to discuss,” the man persisted. “Time draws near.”
Michael wondered briefly if this man could provide answers to some of his troubling questions. If he could it would be worth a talk with him, and since he felt superior to the man he saw no harm in talking with him.
“Come in,” he offered, and the man shook his head adamantly.
“I cannot cross the threshold of the Ancient One. She has too strong of a protection around her home.”
The symbols.
Michael recalled the symbols and understood. They kept evil away and the man standing outside was evil and had once been a part of Michael’s life. The thought unnerved him and made him angry.
“Join me out here,” he offered and took several steps back, his eyes focused on Tempest.
Michael tightened his hold around her waist until he realized she felt no fear from this man. It was he who feared her.
“Go to him if you wish,” she said softly and for his ears alone.
He hesitated, wondering if it was wise to speak with this man, this stranger who wasn’t a stranger. And yet he felt a need. A need to know more, and if he could satisfy that need then it was necessary for him to speak with him.
“I won’t be long,” he said and kissed her sensitive neck.
She shivered and pressed herself back against him. “Be safe with my love.”
He felt a surge of power race through him and realized she had wrapped him in the protection of her love.
Unselfish love.
He kissed her again and squeezed her waist before stepping around her and out the door.
Tempest closed the door after him, resting her forehead against it. “Keep him safe. Please keep him safe.”
The man walked with a pride and arrogance that irritated Michael. He thought himself superior to others and cared nothing for the common man. But Michael had been and remained a common man. He could not forget his youth and the many hardships that followed. He could not forget the struggle to survive and the loneliness of having no one who cared and no one to love him. His past was very much a part of him. It made him who he was today, but then had he chosen it to help him build character? To help him understand what he had never understood in his previous life?
“It is good to see you again,” the man said, stopping beneath a large spruce tree. “You would remember me as—”
“Roland,” Michael finished, the name suddenly rolling off his tongue.
He smiled. “You do remember. I am relieved. I thought perhaps we had lost you.”
“We?” Michael asked, standing to the side of him to look him over and realizing he presented a more powerful image than he actually possessed.
“The other warlocks who survived after your untimely demise. We have waited patiently for your return. We have remained away, concealed for safety sake. But with your return we will be able to once again regain our former power and glory. We will once again rule.”
“I am no longer Marcus.”
“No,” Roland said with pride. “You are more. Your power has sustained you and it has grown. You are near to invincible by now.” His voice turned to a whisper. “Even the Ancient
One would have difficulty going up against you.”
“I repeat,” Michael said, curtly, “I am no longer Marcus.”
Roland retreated a few steps. “You are Michael, I understand this.”
He wished he did. “You understand nothing.” His irritation grew and he paced in front of the man whose eyes suddenly widened with fear.
“Whatever you wish me to understand I will and whatever you wish me to do you have only to ask.”
Michael felt his feet leave the ground and found himself planted directly in front of the startled man. He towered over him in strength and character. “What do you want from me?”
“Only to serve you,” he said nervously.
“You served me well once, many, many years ago,” Michael said as though suddenly remembering.
“You had only to command and I did it.”
“You never questioned me?”
Roland shook his head. “Never. Why would I? My job was to serve.”
“What did I give you in return?”
Roland smiled with the pleasure of his memories. “Everything I ever desired and more. I wanted for nothing. I had everything.”
“Did you have love?” Michael asked.
Roland laughed. “Why would I want such a foolish thing? It serves no purpose and causes nothing but problems.”
“You never desired it?”
Another laugh and a smirk answered his question. “Why would I when I had so much?”
“And do you still possess such wealth?”
Roland held his head high. “My wealth has grown over the years. I possess much, unlike the Ancient One who lives in nothing more than this menial cottage. I have everything, where she has nothing. I have achieved where she has failed.”
Michael felt his anger rise, though suddenly cool. He could almost feel Tempest touch his arm and warn him that the man before him deserved his sympathy, not his anger. He calmed considerably, and smiled. “You measure your achievements by your possessions?”
“Of course,” he said as though the question was foolish.
“And friends?” Michael asked. “Do you have many?”
“I need none.”
“The other warlocks you speak of. Are they not your friends?”
“I would not trust them,” Roland said. “They are jealous of me and desire what I have.”
Michael began to walk around the man, his dark eyes assessing him slowly. “You tell me that you have much, and yet I feel that you wish me to give you more.”
“Your protection will afford me more wealth,” Roland said greedily. “I have waited long for your return and feel I deserve a reward for my patience.”
Michael smiled. “You deserve a reward?” His temper mounted. There was no controlling it. “I have suffered these many years and you deserve a reward?”
The man began to shake. “I have remained faithful to our ways.”
“And for this I owe you?” His voice rose and echoed through the trees and over the land, causing the birds to fly off in fright and the animals to scurry off to safety.
Roland retreated several more feet, though Michael
advanced on him as he did so. “I will serve you well again.”
“What will you do for me?” Michael demanded to know.
“Whatever you ask of me,” the man offered, bowing his head.
“There is nothing you won’t do for me? Nothing? I have only to ask and you will do my bidding without objection?”
“As I always have done,” Roland said without hesitation.
Michael’s words shocked both Roland and himself. “Find me love.”
“What?” Roland asked, confused.
“Find me love,” Michael repeated, clearly and calmly.
“You wish to love?” Roland asked as though Michael had asked something disgusting of him.
“Do you not wish its power, Roland?”
“Love has no power. It is a foolish and worthless emotion.”
“Love possesses the strongest powers.”
Roland shrugged indifferently. “If you wish love then I will attempt to find it for you.”
“You think it’s that simple?” Michael asked with a chilling laugh.
Roland shivered.
“If love possesses the strongest of powers, what makes you think it would be easy to find? What makes you think you could find it at all?”
Roland remained silent, fear of giving the wrong answer evident on his perspiring face.
“You disgust me. Leave,” Michael ordered with a wave of his hand.
“But there is much for us to do,” Roland objected.
Michael’s raised voice chilled the air. “There is nothing I wish from you. Leave!”
Thunder rumbled overhead and caused Roland to jump and scan the suddenly darkening sky. He hurried off without another word and without glancing back at Michael.
Michael paced beneath the tree, his emotions running strong.
Love.
It always came back to love.
But there was something missing. Something he couldn’t quite grasp hold of and understand, and he felt if he could understand it he would have all the answers he needed to make a prudent choice.
Thunder continued to rumble overhead and the skies grew darker along with his mood. He could go to the cave and cast the stones. He could walk the woods and feel the earth’s energy, or he could bury himself in books and look for answers.
The front door to the cottage opened as the first drop of rain fell on him.
Tempest stood in the doorway, watching as the rainstorm soaked Michael. He made no attempt to move. He simply stood there and let the rain fall on him.
It was a torrential downpour and it cleansed the earth, the trees, the plants, the animals and Michael.
She felt the urge to step out in the rain and join him, though she didn’t wish only to join him—she wished to join with him.
To love under the rain, to feel it soak her skin along with his touch.
She shivered at the thought and Michael noticed. He held his hand out to her and without thought she went running in the rain to him.
His arms captured her, her arms wrapped around his neck and she whispered in his ear, “I want you.”
Her words startled him and raced his blood and his lips took instant action, coming down on hers. His tongue entered her mouth with a swiftness that surprised though welcomed, and they kissed as though their souls were blending.
He lifted her up so her feet dangled above the ground and began walking toward the cottage.
She reluctantly tore her mouth from his. “No, here in the rain. I want to make love here in the rain.”
He laughed and found her mouth again. “Damn, but I love you,” he said before kissing her with an urgency that had them both eager and impatient.
He walked her under the tree, letting her feet touch the ground while he continued to kiss her. His hands unbuttoned her sweater and he was pleased to find her breasts bare. His hands roamed them with a tender roughness and her nipples hardened, more from the stinging rain than from his touch, he suspected. But he didn’t care. Her wet nipples felt so good that he couldn’t wait another minute to taste them.
His mouth captured her fast and hard and she cried out, grabbing hold of his shoulders, dropping her head back and closing her eyes against the rain and the exquisite feel of his mouth feeding on her nipple.
He tormented her with pleasure but then she wished to torment back and she ran her hand down his arm and dropped it to reach between his legs and intimately caress him. His mouth left her but only for a moment, only to warn her that she was playing a dangerous game with him and she laughed, her touch turning forceful.
He groaned and dropped his head to rest against her forehead and feeling empowered by his response she opened his zipper and slipped her hand inside his jeans. ““Tempest,” he said on a moan.
She laughed softly in his ear and her warm breath tickled his skin, made him shiver and grow even harder. She felt the change and laughed again.
“You’ll pay for this,” he whispered on a groan.
“Promise?” she asked with a teasing laugh.
He raised his head and his dark eyes locked with hers. “Oh, I promise, sweetheart.”
He locked her lips with his and she continued to touch him, explore him, and excite him. And when she thought herself completely in control he took charge, his hands doing to her what she had done to him—touch, explore and excite.
The rain continued to fall, soaking them completely and adding to the sensuality of the moment. Their wet flesh became highly sensitized, and it was with hurried hands that they reached out to each other, he pulling up her skirt and she releasing him from his jeans.
He braced her against the tree, his hands on her backside, and he entered her with a forcefulness that had her crying out and wrapping her legs firmly around him. Theirs was a hungry joining, an aching need, and the heavens opened up, drenching them as they moved together in a precious rhythm that united souls.
They clung to each other as climax after climax racked both their bodies and though thunder rumbled overhead and lightning sparked the sky they remained together, not wanting to part, not wanting ever to part.
Michael finally turned sensible and he scooped her up into his arms and carried her into the cottage. He carried her straight to the bathroom and stripped her and himself of their wet clothes. He ran a shower and joined her under the hot spray.
They continued to cling to each other and Michael reached for the soap and began to wash her. She, in turn, took the soap from him and followed suit. Calm and gentle touches turned to passion and they were once again caught up in desires that raged out of control.
This time Michael made certain that they finished making love in bed and as the rain continued to pound the earth and cottage Tempest cuddled in Michael’s arms and they both drifted into an exhausted sleep.
They woke later that afternoon, hungry.
Bear greeted them when they entered the kitchen, though his greeting was more of a protest. They had not fed him and he was perturbed that they had forgotten about him. Michael saw to feeding him while Tempest saw to feeding them.
When they finished a simple meal of turkey sandwiches and chips they moved to the living room to cuddle on the couch.
The rainy day had turned them lazy and loving and that’s what they continued to do as night fell on the earth.
“Did you know Roland?” Michael asked as they lay wrapped in each other’s arms on the couch, a fire in the hearth chasing an evening chill from the room.
“I knew him as Tobias,” she answered, resting her head comfortably on his strong shoulder.
“Tell me about him.”
She didn’t wish for such a perfect day to end on talk of warlocks but she understood his need to know. “He was close to Marcus.”
“To me,” Michael said.
She was pleased he acknowledged the fact, though she understood that his acknowledgment could also draw the time to choose nearer. “He served Marcus, providing him with whatever he required or desired. In return Marcus provided him with
an exceptional material life.”
“He gave him whatever he desired?”
“Whatever he desired,” she repeated. “And Tobias or Roland was a greedy man. Money, women, power—he wanted it all, and Marcus gave it to him in return for more greedy souls.
And the more Tobias gave Marcus the more his wealth grew.”
“So Roland feels now that Marcus has returned he will resume his old ways and in doing so provide him with more wealth.”
Tempest nodded. “Once one possesses material riches, one wants more and more and more. Roland wants more.”
“You have wealth, Tempest,” he said as though he questioned her.
She smiled and traced circles on his chest. “Yes, I am rich. I have a loving family and good friends. What more could I want?”
“But you do have money that helps provide you with a good life.”
“It assists me in helping others, but it is not my primary concern. It is who I am and what I can do for others that concern me. If I lived my life with only myself in mind, what would I have to show for my life? Nothing but selfishness.”
“Do you ever think of yourself?”
She laughed. “I have my moments, and today was one long moment.”
He found her response amusing, but he felt the need to learn more about her. “You puzzle me at times.”
“Why?”
“You give without asking for anything in return. You never demand, never stamp your foot and complain. You merely accept.”
Her laughter was strong. “Untrue. I have a temper and I attempt to contain it, though I am not always successful at doing so.”
He hugged her. “But your temper flares for others, never for yourself.”
“I detest injustices and try my best to help those souls in need.”
“Marcus was a soul in need, wasn’t he?”
Her voice held a hint of sadness. “He was a soul rich in power and possibilities. His potential went far beyond anything he could ever imagine and yet he surrendered it all for a false power.”
Michael stroked her arm and wrapped his leg around hers. “I think I’m beginning to understand about the power of magic.”
“What do you understand?” she asked hopefully.
“That magic is based on love.”
Magical Memories Page 32
