Even Crazier

by Eve Langlais

  Only then did he send out a new thought. Levi, is that you?

  He sure as hell hoped so when that single eye opened and stared at him from over a gaping maw lined in teeth.

  Thirteen

  Felicia watched Tariq go into the water and worried. She might have encouraged him to go along with Ella’s suggestion because they had no other choice, but that didn’t mean she had all the confidence it would work.

  A sea monster as a pet?

  “I know. I’m jealous, too.” Felicia knew better than to be startled when Ella appeared at her elbow and seemed to read her thoughts.

  “Are you sure this is the right course of action?”

  “It’s that, or we bob like a cork and miss the end of the world,” Ella stated.

  “Expecting a leviathan to drag us to shore is nuts.”

  “Think of it as epic. It will be great for the book I’m gonna write.”

  “You’re writing a book?”

  “Not yet, but I’m going to. The Adventures of Ella.” She struck a pose.

  “That’s crazy,” Felicia retorted.

  At that, Ella snickered. “Crazy was the story of my falling in love with Zane. The next one will be about how we save the world.”

  “Which is even crazier.”

  “Why yes, yes, it is.” Ella beamed. “Thank you.”

  “For what?” she asked, but Ella was gone, and Felicia remained, staring out the cockpit window at the dark, rolling waves.

  Waves that suddenly churned, sending the plane bobbing wildly. She grabbed hold of the armrests and held on. Jamaal, staggering into the cockpit, cursed as he slammed around. “What’s happening?”

  “I think we’re about to find out if your brother’s plan succeeded.”

  In another moment, they saw proof it had when the head of the beast emerged, Tariq standing atop it. She noted his wave and then his pointing. She looked down to see the rope he’d fashioned into a harness strung around the neck of the monster.

  Then she was yelling as the leviathan took off. Jamaal went tumbling back, and she was glad she’d remained in her seat because they were traveling too fast to stand. Planes might count speed in G-force, but this was sea monster speed, and it sluiced through the waters so fast the plane was airborne, like a kite pulled behind someone running with it.

  But it worked.

  A few hours later, and before dawn could crest, they came within sight of land.

  Only then did the beast stop its mad swim. She was too busy trying to not vomit—which was undignified for a vampire who didn’t eat—to notice the monster leaving, but she did sense when Tariq was on board once more. His scent gave it away.

  “You did it!” she exclaimed, happier than she should be to see him.

  “Did what?” grumbled Azzam, appearing in the cockpit. He took a look around before declaring, “I warned you what would happen if we flew.”

  “I handled it,” Tariq said in his defense.

  “By crashing. In the water. Great job.” Azzam snorted before leaving again.

  “You did good,” she reassured, placing a hand on his.

  “He is right. We’re not safe yet. We need to get off this plane. Prepare to abandon it,” he announced.

  “But we’re still at sea.”

  “I’ve called us a boat.”

  Less called than commandeered, it turned out. It seemed some pirates in these waters noticed the bobbing plane and came to investigate. Felicia and Zane, feeling peckish, took care of the crew and then used the boat to complete the short distance left to shore.

  Dear sweet land. She might never leave it again.

  Bedraggled didn’t describe their state when they finally arrived; however, no one complained. They lived only because of Tariq. The poor man looked utterly exhausted. The planes of his face sharp with fatigue. A fine tremor noticeable in his hands. While he didn’t have enough magic to even give them all a fresh outfit, he’d gotten them to shore alive. Which meant he could rest because, on land, Felicia had her power again. The power of money.

  In short order, they’d been bustled to a luxury hotel in the heart of Casablanca. A massive four-bedroom suite that housed their whole party.

  Ella and Zane got their own room, farthest from everyone else because when those two got busy, the poltergeists went nuts.

  That left three rooms. As queen, Felicia took the master.

  Azzam took the third bedroom.

  She assumed the brothers would bunk together. After all, their bedroom did have two beds. She assumed wrong.

  Tariq entered her room, the aroma of him teasing her.

  Whirling, her shirt and slacks already on the floor, she wore only the thinnest of lingerie. He might have been tired, but he noticed. His eyes glowed.

  “Did you need something?” she asked, breathless.

  “Yes.” Only the one word, but he advanced on her, his movements slow, almost predatory.

  How exciting…

  She deliberately said, “You’re probably wondering about our next step. I’ve got a local contact.” Abd al Jabbar, the leader of the small coven in this city. “He’s arranging vehicles, supplies, and a guide to take us to the coordinates of the temple.”

  “Don’t care.” He prowled closer, entering her space. The heat of him rolled off in waves, and she basked in the warmth.

  A languorous feeling spread through her. “We should remain vigilant.”

  “We will. We also need to recover.” He ran a knuckle down the side of her face, and she shivered.

  “I was going to have a shower then get some sleep.”

  “Shower, yes. But there’s something else we have to do before sleep.” The words purred from him softly.

  Another shiver trembled her frame. “What would that be?”

  His lips curved into a slow, sexy smile. “Don’t you owe me something?”

  “You’re right. I did promise you a kiss.” She leaned up and brushed her mouth over his. A teasing slide. “Consider yourself paid in full.”

  “That’s not a kiss.” Before she could say another word, his mouth caught hers, savored it. She grabbed hold of him, pressing close, feeling the evidence of his erection.

  Despite the urgency burning through every part of her body, he seemed intent on taking his time. Slowly, he kissed her. Without any haste, he finished stripping her. Only then did he lift her and carry her into the bathing chamber. He reached for the water, never once breaking their kiss, and turned on the shower.

  Since they had a moment while it heated, she took a turn stripping him, removing his shirt, her hands caressing the smooth, muscled planes of his chest. Stroking lower to the waistband of his slacks. She undid the button and shoved them down, biting her lip in hunger as his erection sprang free. Long. Thick. Hard.

  Delicious.

  But she wasn’t allowed to nibble on it yet.

  He tugged her into the shower with him, the wide head spraying them both. It felt good to sluice the grime of their trip from her skin; however, it wasn’t just the heated water stroking her flesh. His fingers explored, too, traveling feather light over her curves, a light, teasing touch that ended in him cupping her full bottom.

  As he pulled her tight against his frame, his rigid cock pressed against her lower belly, throbbing and ready. Just like her cleft was ready. Wet. Aching…

  Still, he took his time, kissing her, squeezing her cheeks. She explored him in turn, her hands skimming over the toned muscles of his arms, down the strength of his back. She stood on tiptoe, her hard nipples rubbing against his chest, the friction so delightful.

  She found herself pushed against the shower wall, but only so he could explore further. He kissed his way down the column of her neck, soft nibbles that brought delicious shivers. She caught her breath as he traveled lower, making his way to the buds that were peaked and waiting for his touch. He cupped her breasts, pushing them together, presenting them to his mouth. When he latched his hot mouth onto an erect nub, he drew a cry from her.
Her hips arched.

  “Yes,” she hissed, encouraging him to do more.

  He sucked the tip and then nibbled again. She shuddered as she threaded her fingers through his damp hair, holding him to her breast. Not ready for him to move on even as the vee between her legs cried for attention.

  He lavished her nipples with attention, sucking and biting and teasing until she gasped for breath. Only then did he drop lower. His face was level with her mound, and yet he didn’t touch it. He instead kissed each thigh.

  She growled. “Stop teasing me.”

  “So impatient.”

  “The end of the world is coming. We don’t have time to waste.”

  “How true. And yet, you should be savored,” he whispered, placing a kiss on her mound even as his hand slipped between her thighs. He dragged a finger across the swollen lips of her sex, parting them that he might penetrate her.

  She sighed in pleasure. Arched her hips as he thrust that finger.

  But it was when he placed his mouth on her that she cried out. “Tariq.” His name slipped from her lips, and he made a sound against her, a rumble of pleasure that vibrated.

  He lapped at her, his tongue lithe, his lips teasing. He licked her until she thought she would come. It was close. She clutched at his head, not only to hold him there but as support given her legs trembled.

  Sensing her weakness, he gripped her by the hips and held her prisoner to his tongue and the pleasure it gave.

  Such pleasure…

  She couldn’t hold on. Didn’t want to. She let her climax come, felt it bursting inside, an explosion of her senses that left her gasping and throbbing, especially since he continued to suck at her clit.

  Still thrust with his fingers. Kept her orgasm going.

  She uttered a cry of disappointment when he stopped, only he wasn’t done. He stood and grabbed hold of her leg, lifting it to wrap around his hip. He guided his cock to the entrance of her sex, and she welcomed it. Welcomed the hard thrust.

  His cock filled her so perfectly. Stretching her channel. Going deep enough to touch that inner pulse that craved a hard pounding. With long strokes, he thrust, over and over, hitting her in just the right spot.

  Completing her.

  And as if he read her mind, his lips found hers, and he whispered, “You’re mine, little queen.”

  His. A possessive claim that triggered her second orgasm, and in her excitement, she nipped his lip.

  Nipped it hard enough to taste blood.

  Not enough to feed, but enough that it exploded her senses. In that moment, she came a third time, an orgasm not of the body but…something else.

  She could swear she felt him. Felt his pleasure. His need. A link formed between them, and it was the most intense thing she’d ever experienced. So intense she hugged him close, letting it echo through her.

  That closeness enveloped her in a haze that followed them from the shower to bed.

  Had something special happened? She wanted to ask him, and yet, only a moment after hitting the mattress, he snored.

  Seriously? She turned to look at him and saw his expression slack, his body relaxed. Sleeping.

  Almost insulting except she knew how much trust it took to sleep with someone else. It helped that he reached out to grab her, hook her, and draw her back against his body. His mouth nuzzled the hair at her nape, and he whispered, “Sweet dreams, my queen.”

  And then they spooned.

  Fourteen

  “Rise and shine, brother. It is late afternoon and time for your lazy bones to get out of bed.”

  Awareness took a moment. The restorative rest he’d fallen into a deep one. But at least he could say he felt much better. Refreshed.

  Sated, yet hungry. His gaze darted left and right. “Where’s the queen?” he asked, sitting up in one smooth motion. Casting out his senses, he quickly realized only his brother, Jamaal, was in the near vicinity.

  “Your dictator is in the office the staff created for her, handing out orders and getting shit done in a way that is uncannily more efficient than our methods.”

  He couldn’t help but smile. “She is queen for a reason.”

  “And are you planning to become her king?”

  The sly query caught Tariq by surprise. He ignored it a moment as he noted a pile of clothes on a chair. The tags still attached. He snared the pants and drew them on to find them a perfect fit. “I see you helped her.”

  Jamaal snorted. “Not my doing. I woke up to find my own pile of clothes and wondered how she knew all our sizes.” He pointed to his outfit: khakis, button shirt, and vest. “The steel-toe boots were a nice touch.”

  “I hope you were mannered enough to say thank you.”

  “I’m pretty sure you thanked her for all of us.”

  The slam of his brother against the wall knocked enough sense into Tariq to realize he held his Jamaal by the throat. On account he was angry. “Stop disrespecting the queen.”

  “Or else what?”

  He lifted Jamaal, his hand tight on his throat. “Or else I’m going to forget you’re my brother and find you a new bottle with a cap.”

  “You wouldn’t.” Jamaal’s eyes narrowed. With good reason.

  Threatening to imprison another djinn was the worst punishment imaginable.

  “I will do it and not feel an ounce of regret. Felicia is a lady. My lady.” Something that felt incredibly good to say aloud. “You will be respectful.”

  “Fine. I will show respect for her,” Jamaal said grudgingly. “You’re still fair game, though. Worm rider.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “After that stunt you pulled in the ocean, I’d say you earned the name. And many more. The possibilities are endless. Memes of your holding the reins to that beast, the caption reading: Can handle any big serpent. Wrangling the mighty beast.”

  “Be sure to show my good side,” Tariq replied as he released his brother. “Now, if you’re done being jealous of my mighty worm, tell me what’s happened. I assume there were no attacks while I rested.”

  “You mean while you snored up a storm and slept like the de—” Jamaal halted and instead said. “Slept like a baby after a bout at the tit. Not much occurred other than the queen frightening the staff. We’ll be leaving at sundown.”

  “How long will we have to travel?” Never had he been more conscious of how he’d come to rely on the teleportation he used without thought. Forced to travel via mundane means, he understood how difficult it could be.

  The good news, though? The demons appeared somewhat restricted as well. Other than the incident with Ella, they didn’t just appear in places. They also had to travel, hopping bodies and quite possibly only having a short time to do so. He’d noticed there were fewer and fewer demons attacking each time.

  Either some of their essences were dissipating or they were busy elsewhere. He really hoped for the former.

  “The queen says we’re not stopping for more than refueling, which means, at top speed, it will still take us more than a full day of driving. Probably two.”

  “That puts us driving in daylight. I’ll have to do something about the UV rays,” he mused aloud. It would deplete the magic that hadn’t yet completely restored. The power in this area appeared weak. Hopefully, he’d find some bigger pockets to siphon on their trip.

  “Hold on, wannabe superhero. You don’t need to do shit. Queen says the vehicles will be equipped with special windows that block the UV rays.”

  “Which is great until we’re attacked and the windows broken.” As djinn who’d once upon a time presided over wishes, he knew all about loopholes.

  “Even if they’re broken, they’ll be fine. They’ll be wearing special suits to block the sunlight.”

  “How many vehicles are we taking?”

  “Three.”

  “Why that many?”

  “It’s safer in the sense that, if one breaks down, we can still go on as a full group.” Because most vehicles could only handle five passengers, not t
he six they traveled with. Seven with a guide. More if the queen insisted on guards.

  With the serious stuff taken care of, Tariq looked closer at his brother and noted the ragged edge of his core, but nothing leaking from it.

  “How is—”

  “My magic?” Jamaal held up a hand, and a golden ball of energy floated just above it. “I have some, but I’m weaker than a tadji.” The baby version of a djinn.

  “Give it time to heal.”

  “Demon wounds can’t be fixed.” Jamaal didn’t need to gesture to remind of the scars on the side of his face.

  “Have you asked Ella if her magic can heal them?”

  He shook his head. “No. And I won’t until this is over. She needs her strength. We all do.”

  The change in Jamaal’s attitude proved striking. “Look at you, sounding old and wise like our grandfather.”

  “Don’t compare me to that crazy fool. You don’t even want to hear what he thinks we should do.”

  Sliding on his own pair of steel-toed boots, Tariq paused. “Dare I ask?”

  “He thinks we should give Ella to the demons. Says it’s the right thing to do. Which, of course, sent her husband into a fit.”

  “I can see how it might,” was Tariq’s dry reply.

  “To make things worse, Ella agreed. Said the ghosts were advising her to do it as well.”

  “Given she might be the strongest weapon we have, why would we do that?”

  Jamaal shrugged. “No idea, but glad to see I’m not the only one who agrees with Zane. It’s stupid. But Grandfather is insisting. Says the gods have spoken to him.”

  “And what does Felicia say?”

  Jamaal smirked. “Queen says since we’re heading to the temple anyhow, everyone should shut up.”

  Tariq’s lips twitched. In other words, don’t decide yet and wait until they got closer and knew more. “Let’s go see if Azzam has caused more trouble in your absence.”

  Grandfather sat moping on the opposite side of the sitting room. Zane and Ella had chosen to sit at a short breakfast bar, the witch eating to refuel her human body.