Demon Hunt, page 16
As her bloodied mouth babbled obscure bits of arcane knowledge, her mind wove the spell. As she watched, the small dragon flew unnoticed to the skull and lifted the relic in its claws. The creature fluttered up a nearby staircase. She placed a picture in the mind of the dragon and a command. As she lost consciousness, the sounds of shouting and clashing swords rang in her ears. Her husband had come.
She awoke in a white room, lying in an old iron bedstead. The large Bible she had begged for in an earlier moment of lucidity lay nearby on the night table, its cover marked by droplets of her blood. It seemed that blood was everywhere. The final coughing fits of her life were leaving their mark. Her lungs had very little left to give.
Jack knelt beside her, holding her hand in a tight grip. Pearl sat in a nearby chair, clad in a demure gray wool dress. Her neck was heavily bandaged and her arm was in a sling. The madam’s ravaged face was paler than usual and her vivid eyes filled with tears.
“Raven, God forgive me.” Jack clutched her hand as he rocked back and forth. For the first time since she had met him, he looked helpless and lost. “Take the blood, darling, it’s the only way.”
“No.” Something in the darkness of her mind spoke sharply, demanding something terrible and unfair. She ran her tongue over her blistered lips. “Jack. You can’t follow me into death. You have to stay.”
He shook his head violently, almost crushing the bones of her hand in his grip. “No, if you won’t take the blood - I’m going to die with you.”
Raven hardened what was left of her heart. “I can’t take the blood, you know it. I’m too weak. But by my blood, I curse you. You can’t choose death until you make this right, Jack. This is not over.” Her command held a gossamer strand of iron. “It’s not fair but God doesn’t have to be fair, does He?”
“I love you, Raven,” he protested in a whisper.
She wanted to die so badly. “Love isn’t enough, Jack. There must be honor. Swear.” Raven’s free hand clutched at the coarse white sheets provided by the Sisters of Mercy.
He hesitated.
“Jack, I need to hear you swear.”
He stared back at her angrily. “How can you ask this?”
“Swear, Jack …”
He dropped her hand and turned away. “I swear.” Then Jack Blackthorne got up and stalked out of the room, past a shocked Pearl and away from his wife.
Raven heard him swear and groped about on the sheet, searching for his hand. She needed him to understand. She found Pearl’s slim, smooth hand instead and held on, trying to speak.
“He’s gone, Raven,” the madam told her. “But he loves you …”
Pearl’s voice was getting further away.
Then Raven passed from her body, upward, the tendrils of her sorrow clinging to her spirit like cobwebs of light.
* * * *
As Rhi slept, tears ran down her face. Outside, the skies opened, pouring more snow onto to little mountain town, following the meteor shower so closely that people who witnessed it later said that the snow was on fire.
Rhi finally awoke with a start as two large, scarred hands shook her silly. Caught in the nightmare, she gasped for air – a few rusty squawks came out of her throat.
Slapping at Blackthorne’s hands, she scuttled to the other end of the bed where Ellie Mae stood at attention. The hair on the dog’s neck was on end but she hadn’t interfered.
Rhi clung to the dog’s huge neck, finally getting enough air in her lungs to sob. The clean smell of linen and warm hound filled her head, replacing the sulfur stench of the dream. But the metallic taste of her own blood lingered in her mouth. She couldn’t bear the thought of the man who sat by her bed staring up at her, his face grim.
Stumbling out of bed, she padded down to the kitchen, ignoring Blackthorne.
The dog observed Rhi’s departure guardedly from her perch atop several snowy white pillows, the folds of Ellie Mae’s face more wrinkled than usual.
Water would wash away the taste of blood. Rhi’s hands shook as she clutched the glass and opened the tap. Blackthorne appeared beside her to reach for the glass as his other bare arm steadied her body. She purposefully dropped the glass and lunged at him.
A satisfying yelp escaped Blackthorne as her hands tore at his face. He struggled with her as she spit and snarled at him, catching her before she could do too much damage. He carried her, struggling, to the opposite counter, away from the pile of glass.
Ellie Mae pounded down the steps of the loft to stand in the entry to the kitchen. The dog’s body tensed, the fur on her neck standing on end. A low growl issued from her throat but she didn’t attack Blackthorne. Instead she gave the couple a look, walked into the living room and turned around three times to lie facing the other direction.
“Damn it, Rhi … stop it! God’s ears, what the Hell is wrong with you!” Blackthorne shouted, holding her arms against her sides as she tried to kick her way free.
“I hate your brother for raping me - I hate your brothers for letting him live and I hate you for bringing me into this again, you bastard!” She kept fighting, almost dislocating an arm trying to pry free.
His face whitened. “You don’t think I’ve spent the last hundred years thinking about what he did to you?”
“If you hadn’t broken your oath, none of this would have happened! Tell me, did you tell innocent little Raven what you were? Did you tell her, me, whatever, what you were? God, men are all alike even hundreds of years apart!”
Panting, she finally stopped her struggle. Blackthorne let her go and backed off with his hands in the air, palms towards her. Non-threatening? This guy was trying to appear non-threatening?
“Get out,” she hissed.
“No.”
“Get out or I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”
“I’ll be with you when the skull surfaces, Rhi, whether you like it or not. Unlike you, I’m tired of this world and am ready to seek another.”
She pulled a hand back to strike. He caught the arm and wrenched it behind her back, forcing her against him.
Her soul blazed as she stared up at the familiar lines of his face. He said nothing but the look of fury he gave her made her think suddenly that this was a good time to consider running.
Blackthorne lowered his mouth to hers as she struggled in his arms. “A hundred years of needing you, Rhi.” Then he kissed her and she felt like he was inhaling her into himself. Half hating herself, she closed her bruised lips against him. He paused and pushed her away. “Go to bed Rhi. You’ll have a long day tomorrow, whether you want to or not.”
“We’ll both have a busy day, Blackthorne,” she replied, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as he stalked away to clean up the mess. “The skull is close. I dreamed of it and I don’t think it will stay hidden long. The skull is calling me - I can hear it. And the damned thing wouldn’t know my soul if not for you.”
The skull was closer than he could ever imagine, trapped in a Bible Rhi bought in a junk store on a whim two days before. She banished the thought before he could pick up on it. The thing might as well be in Timbuktu since she had no idea how to release it. And she had no reason to trust either of the Blackthorne brothers.
She stood in the kitchen staring at the wall for ten minutes as she sipped a new glass of water. Finally, she felt her emotions become cool to the touch, the fire in her belly sparked by his kiss burning down to a pile of embers. She’d go to bed, go to sleep, wake up and this would be some kind of nightmare brought on by too many books full of tales from the 1800s.
He didn’t say a word as she crept past where he stood at the living room window, staring out at the night. Blackthorne had taken his sweater off and wore only jeans. His chest glistened in the dim light of the room. Rhi could smell the scent of him, clean sweat and mossy woods. A surge of heat rose again as she examined him, imagining his hands on her body.
So much for that fire going out, she thought ruefully. If it weren’t for the nightmares, she could have walked away. She needed his touch to wipe the memory of the dream away. She stepped towards him and stopped.
“What the hell am I doing?” she whispered.
He turned to face her in time to see the tension lighting her frame.
“Make up your mind, Rhiannon. I can’t take this, I’ve waited too long.” His raw voice forced her a step closer.
“I just need tonight, Blackthorne. No more.” She broke off when he stepped across the room in one stride and crushed her against him. Heat flowed and when he kissed her again, the world stopped. It wasn’t a soft kiss … it was hard and feral. She clutched at his arms as superheated blood raced through every vein in her body. She squeaked in terror when he pulled her head back to expose her neck.
“Rhi, damn it, I’m not going to drink your blood … okay?” He groaned and lowered his head to gently nibble, while his hands slid over every available inch of skin the t-shirt left exposed. “I might eat you alive, though,” he muttered against her breast before taking a cloth-covered nipple in his mouth.
“Uh … I’m okay with that,” she managed to gasp, lost in a wave of sensation.
“You know, there’s too much fabric here.” He pushed her against the wall beside the stairs, trapping her against the hard lines of his body. He ripped the shirt away like tissue in a swift movement.
“I liked that shirt.”
“I’ll get you a new one.”
Rhi’s heart jumped into her throat when she saw his face, inches away in the darkness, almost demonic himself, his lips parted, the tips of his demon blood teeth visible.
The irises of his eyes flamed to blue and the light spread over the pair as their lips met again.
Rhi shivered. It was so easy to forget what he was when he held her like this until he lost control. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck to bury her fingers in the softness of his hair.
Nuzzling her neck and breasts until every hair on her body stood on end, he pulled her to the floor with him to cradle her smaller body in his big arms.
Something cut loose inside of her. Outside of the cabin streaks of blue light marked the sky, flashing past the windows at increasing speeds. They lay quietly for a moment in each others arms before he raised his head to examine her face. “Rhi, do you truly want this? Here and now?”
“I need this, Jack.” Her voice was muffled, her face hidden behind a curtain of black hair.
“So do I, baby, so do I.”
He got to his feet, leaned down to scoop her up into his arms, and easily carried her to the loft bedroom.
In the darkness of her room, he looked frightening again, his lips slightly parted, the tips of his demon blood teeth showing over the edge. He did not bother to conceal his true self from her.
He carefully lowered her to the bed and stood back to remove what remained of his clothes.
“Not to ruin the moment but do 800 year old ‘changelings’ need to use condoms?”
She could see his teeth flash in the darkness as he gave her one of her rare smiles.
“We’re not susceptible to human disease, if that’s what you’re asking,” he replied as he pulled his jeans off and threw them in a corner.
“So if I want to have condom free sex, all I have to do is go hunt down one of you guys?”
His glowing outline stalked towards the bed, as predatory as a mountain lion and probably at least twice as dangerous. The darned-near-close-to-immortal knight lowered himself to the bed, moving close, placing his lips against her ear.
“I’m not giving you time to hunt one of us ‘guys’ down,” he hissed, sending a thrill of fear down her spine. His mouth traveled to her breasts, his teeth raking the throbbing skin, sending another flicker of fire through her body to pool between her legs. Then he closed his mouth over an aching nipple, drawing deeply as his battered hands slid into her hair to grab double handfuls of silk.
She ran her hands over the strangely familiar planes and contours of his body. There were many scars, some she somehow remembered and many that were obviously new. The puckered scars showed a decided lack of association with the neater skills of the present day providers of medicine.
When a big hand finally slid down to her thigh, she was afraid that she would cry out with relief. He yanked at the wet scrap of silk panties, which ripped apart as easily as her t-shirt earlier. When he ran a finger over her sex, she flinched. “You’ve waited a hundred years and now you’re gonna tease me?” she gasped, straining against him. She could feel his cock brush her thigh, thick and hard.
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m gonna do,” he whispered and glided his finger into her wet entrance.
After a few moments of making her writhe in his hands, he slowly moved down her body, his mouth nuzzling every curve. Rhi experienced a brief moment of panic. “What are you doing?”
“Eating you alive,” he replied as he settled between her thighs.
A strangled gasp was all she could work up for a moment when he lowered his head for the first lick. She made an effort to wriggle free without thinking but an iron grip pinned her arms to the mattress.
“Blackthorne … I don’t think I can take this.” She strained against him, shuddering with anticipation of the next onslaught of sensation.
He growled and lowered his head again, taking another taste. Then his tongue plunged deeply into the sweet heat of her sex, delving and devouring.
“Please … Jack,” she pleaded.
He raised his head, the outline of his body glowing in the darkness. “You’ll more than beg, Rhi.” Then his mouth closed over her, suckling hard and after several minutes of exquisite agony, Rhi detonated with a hoarse scream.
Blackthorne released her arms and rolled to her side as she lay sprawled in a pile of pillows and comforters, every pore quivering. He rested his head on one arm, staring down at her.
“Been practicing since 1896?”
“Once or twice.”
She sat up and turned to shove him down against the pillows. She could make out a lazy grin on his face in the darkness as she moved to straddle his waist, scooting her backside downwards.
“What are you doing?”
“Something my past self was probably a bit too repressed to do to you.” Rising to her knees, she reached down to guide him into her body, sinking onto him slowly, impaling herself with him inch by inch.
* * * *
He groaned the moment he entered her body and her silken heat gripped his cock. He threw back his head when she moved, at first in a slow, agonizing movements, then faster, corkscrewing into smaller, quicker spirals. He rose to meet her, his hands encircling her tiny waist, her long black hair whipping his thighs.
“Rhi …”
Control was lost. He sat up and pulled her legs around his waist as she continued to grind against him. Rhi wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him blind, wrapping her tongue around his as he pushed her down to thrust into her. He braced himself on his forearms as they both coiled together. As her climax drew her body into a bow, she hoarsely called his name as he came with a roar.
* * * *
Rhi felt like she had run a marathon or at least was on the down side of drinking a six pack of cola. They lay in each others arms, silent and still, recovering from a shocking passion. Her heart close to bursting, only one thought ran through her head. One night would never be enough.
“Rhi, I …” He started to speak but stopped as she placed a finger on his lips.
“I am snuggling here, pretending you are some normal guy I met in a very normal way. Can we just go with that for tonight? Please?”
He tightened his arms around her. “Where did we meet?”
She made a face. “In the produce aisle at the grocery store. You were buying tomatoes and I was buying pineapple when I got a good look at your butt.”
“And we’re already sleeping together?”
“It’s a really good butt.”
Later, she lay wide-awake beside her sleeping knight. She placed a hand on his chest to feel his steady heartbeat and listened to the soft intake of his breath. He was alive.
She sighed and drew away from him to curl into a ball on the other side of the bed. Why couldn’t the love of her life have been some average guy her mother wouldn’t have approved of? That kind was so easy to let go in the end, she decided as she examined the dusty dresser. Her mother would have loved this guy, though. Even if he was a few hundred years old.
* * * *
Across town, Pearl observed the raging sky from her second story bedroom window, her figure framed in the heavy velvet drapes. When the bizarre storms of light subsided and a decidedly golden glow arose in the night from the general area of Horse Thief Gulch, Pearl pulled the velvet drapes together and turned from the window with a sly smile.
The huge storm-gray cat sitting on the bed sat up at the sound of her voice.
“I’m glad somebody around here is getting laid, Gandalf,” she told the cat. “Maybe I should give Houston a call? No, he’s been traumatized enough.” On cue, the phone rang. Pearl picked up the receiver and for a few minutes listened to the rants of the lawman on the other end. After a short conversation, she hung up pulled on her boots.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Melon Evans awoke with sunlight on his face, the suffocating scent of straw in his nostrils and a ginger cat the size of a small dog sitting on his chest. Startled, he jolted up to examine his surroundings. The cat leapt backwards to balance perfectly on Melon’s blanket-covered legs.
He managed to make it to Pam Douglas’ barn on his snowmobile a few hours earlier after taking a torturously long route through the back woods and snowy fields of the Pike’s Peak region. Besides several frantic pauses to cut through barbed wire fences, he’d also stopped at a friend’s house to steal a can of gas from the shed he’d pay for later. If he managed to live that long.
