by Tena Stetler
Slipping his hands under her sweater, he unfastened her bra to caress her breasts. His thumb teased her nipples until they were hard. He eased away and pulled her sweater over her head. Planting a tantalizing kiss in the hollow of her throat before kissing his way to her breasts, he took first one nipple then the other into his warm mouth.
As if she were light as a feather, he swept her into his arms, carried her to the bed, and eased her onto it. He joined her, sliding his hand inside the waistband of her jeans. Before she could object, his hand found her moist center. His magical fingers explored, danced, and teased until she let out a low moan and shifted to allow him better access. He pushed her jeans to her knees and continued his ministrations.
On the edge of ecstasy, she reached for him and tugged his shirt over his head. She flicked the button on his jeans open, pulled the zipper half way down, slipping her fingers inside before he stopped her.
“I’m not through. Wait your turn.” He captured her wrists in one hand and held them above her head wrapping the bed sheet around them. On his knees between her legs, he shoved her jeans to the floor with his foot. He trailed his tongue around her belly button, tracing the little dip then licked farther down. The ecstasy was pure and explosive. She screamed her release, writhing beneath him as his mouth found its target.
Rising up with a satisfied smile curving his lips, he whispered, “Liked that, did you?” He picked up a lock of her hair and caressed it gently. The fingers on his other hand continued to tease a bit more as she whimpered and shivers of pleasure followed his touch.
Without warning, she arched her back flipping him over. “My turn.” She snickered and waved her hand. His clothes landed in a heap on the floor. “Oh…that’s much better,” she purred. Her gaze lingered over every inch of his luscious body. She straddled him and her fingers caressed his broad chest tracing the sinewy muscles down to the V of soft hair pointing between his legs. There she tangled her fingers in it until she touched him, teased him, and positioned him at her entrance.
“If you don’t stop right now, you’re going to regret it. It’s been too long.” He growled. Grasping her around the waist, he arched. She welcomed him into her body, and he buried himself to the hilt. Her breath came in long surrendering moans as the heat of his body rippled down the entire length of hers. She rose up only to have him pull her back down. Exploding in a downpour of fiery sensations, she rode him until the waves of ecstasy throbbed though him. His last thrust sent her over the edge again. Her body shivered, then melted against his, and her world was filled with him. He’d shattered the hard shell that she’d built so carefully around herself. Now what?
Chapter Twenty-Four
Preparing for Battle—the Wedding will go On
The trip home from the Island did nothing to quell his desires for Synn. She rode astride his massive gryphon body, the warmth of her sinking into him. He barely maintained control as he landed, lowered her to the ground, and shifted back to human. Even if he couldn’t act on his desires, it was satisfying to know he had the same effect on her. Never had a woman touched him like she did. He had no intention of ever letting her go.
Reaching out, he tugged on her long braid as she started to walk off toward her bedroom to change and get ready for work. “Need some help?”
“I think you’ve helped enough. I barely have the strength to walk let alone work a full shift tonight.” She paused for a couple beats. “Thanks to you.”
“I aim to please, lass.” He couldn’t hide his smug expression. Gathering her into his arms, he bent to kiss her.
She placed a couple of fingers to his lips. “That you do.” She smiled and wiggled out of his hold. Blew him a kiss before she slipped into her bedroom, closed the door and the lock clicked.
Her intention came across loud and clear. He blew out a breath and trudged to his room to change into work clothes.
****
A few dried leaves rustled as they blew across the street. He held the door to the pub open for her. Laughter, a delicious aroma of Mulligan Stew, and fresh baked bread spilled out into the cold evening air as he peered inside. Tourist season was upon them. There wasn’t an empty seat in the pub.
The several hours they’d spent on the island was enlightening as well as a well-deserved break for both of them. By the looks of things, they were going to need it. He waded through the crowd, smiling and calling out to the regulars. Synn followed in his wake then escaped under the pass through and into the kitchen.
“Whew, what a crowd for a week night.” From the peg on the wall, she grabbed her change apron, tied it around her waist, and checked the pocket for her pad and pen. The door swung open, and Gavin emerged.
“Aye. It’s going to be a wild one tonight. A lot of new faces. The tourists have arrived.” He kissed her on the cheek, grabbed clean towels, and piled freshly washed glasses and mugs on a tray. When he started toward the door, he heard footsteps and backed out of the way.
Bridget swung in through the kitchen door skidding to a stop a mere foot from him. “It’s about time. Been like this since we opened. You ready?”
“Yep.” She squared her shoulders and followed Bridget out into the pub.
Hoisting a tray of glassware, he pushed through the door and slid the glasses into place beneath the bar.
Customers were lined three deep at the counter. Tim and the new guy were working the far end. He scooted to the other end of the bar, taking orders and pulling pints. After a few hours, the crowd thinned. A group of tourists seated at a table in the far corner started a shoving match among themselves. It escalated, and a couple chairs toppled over in front of her. Her tray of drinks crashed to the floor as she tripped over a chair.
Gavin vaulted over the bar and sprinted to the ruckus. He grabbed one man by the collar and the other by the back of the shirt. The material tore revealing bulging muscles and ancient tattoos over most of the younger man’s upper torso.
Quinn waded into the fray and encouraged the younger man to go outside and clear his head. When Quinn returned, Gavin had cleared the area. Broken glass and beer spread across the polished wooden floor. Synn brought a mop and a bucket. Katie carefully bent down and picked up the large shards of glass.
A rush of cold air blew through, and the young man returned to the pub. His face twisted, he took a swing at Quinn over the top Katie. Synn blocked the man’s arm and shoved him backward with the mop handle. He reached out, grabbed her shoulder as another man cinched his arm around her waist. Gavin reached for her. A glint of silver winked on her wrist and quickly climbed up her arm.
She glanced down as silver encased her other forearm. A look of surprise then recognition spread over her face. Wrenching her shoulder out of the man’s grasp, she kicked backward and connected with his groin. He went down like a sack of potatoes. Arms behind her back, she ran toward the ladies’ room.
Tristian appeared at Gavin’s back and took control of the flailing young man pinning him to the wall. A hush fell over the crowd, and all movement ceased.
“What the hell is going on?” He stared at Tristian.
“Spell froze all the non-magical beings so I could get a handle on what’s going on. This place reeks of magic, but I don’t see the culprits that could be wielding…”
Gavin jerked his head in the direction she had disappeared. “It’s Synn.”
“Oh, no, she’s not the only one. This one here—” He slammed the man’s head against the wall knocking him out. “Belongs to Baltizar. The others…” He turned to find all the individuals that started the brawl had disappeared. “I suspect this was a test. We failed.”
“But Synn, she’s…”
“She was the target of this attack.” At his sides, Tristian’s hands clenched and unclenched. His face flushed with fury. Raising a booted foot, he placed it across the unconscious man’s throat. “Not one of you noticed the magic?”
Gale picked her way through the paralyzed crowd pausing in front of Tristian. “I did. But I j
ust got here. It was so well disguised. I’m not surprised no one else noticed.” She glanced toward the ladies’ room. “Then the Kilara gauntlets made their appearance and the magic was overwhelming which allowed the culprits to escape undetected. It wasn’t Synn’s fault. Her reactions were perfect to protect the mortals in this establishment.”
Bridget stuck her head out of the ladies’ room, and her mouth gaped open. “Oh, my God, what in bloody hell?” She ducked back inside and closed the door.
“Looks like we’ve got some explaining to do,” Gale said calmly. “Let’s hope she’s the only one.”
“How did she avoid—” Tristian scrubbed his hand over his face.
“If I had to guess, I’d say Synn inadvertently blocked the magic. Bridget must have followed her into the ladies’ room where she probably witnessed the powerful Fae magic from the gauntlets.” Gale tapped her index finger to her lips.
The ladies’ room door creaked open. Synn stepped out tugging Bridget behind her. The faint traces of magic emanating from her direction ceased. Silver gauntlets gleamed under the lights in the pub. The stone in the center of each glowed red fading to blue then to opalescent white and back to red. “How the hell do I get these things off.” She held up her arms and walked toward the group.
The corners of Gale’s mouth twitched. “Relax. As soon as they sense no danger, they’ll disappear. No appearance by your sword?”
“Oh hell—no.” Synn glanced around apparently satisfied the sword hadn’t made it into the fray. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. Gavin moved to her side wrapping an arm around her. The silver wrist guards faded.
“Tristian, I think you’d better remove the spell before we have more to explain than to Bridget—this is a public establishment.” He glanced at his da rooted in place, eyes wide and mug in hand. The foam ran down the side of the glass and dripped on the bar. Tim shook his head, reached for a cloth, and wiped at the mess.
The warlock shrugged. “If mortals walk in the door, the spell will snare them. That’s why I can’t understand what the deal is with Bridget. She should be frozen. But you’re right.” With a quick wave of his arm, the spell was broken and activity resumed.
Her eyes wide, Bridget remained planted next to Synn.
Quinn stared at his girl. “You all right?”
She nodded slowly, her gaze shifting quickly from each of the persons in the magical group.
“Bridget, let’s take a walk.” Gale took her friend’s arm and started toward the back door that led to the deserted porch.
“Hey, wait up. I’m coming too.” Quinn strode toward them.
Synn took two steps to follow, and Tristian snared her arm. “We need to talk.”
“Hey, I sure as bloody hell can’t handle what’s left of this rowdy crowd by myself,” Katie howled. “Get your arses back here.”
Her voice broke the uneasy mood floating over the group. Synn smiled while the others chuckled. “Point taken.” She glanced at Gale and Bridget then locked eyes with Tristian, his expression stormy. “This matter will have to wait.”
Tristian gave her a curt nod. “I don’t like it.”
Shrugging one shoulder, she flounced to the tables and resumed taking orders, then made her way to the bar.
Having returned to serving customers, he touched her arm as she approached the bar and rattled off a list of drinks. “You doing all right?” He searched her eyes before setting a tray on the bar, grabbing a couple mugs, and begin to fill her orders.
“I have to be.” She picked up the loaded tray and sauntered into the crowd.
****
The next morning Synn sat at the kitchen table hands wrapped around a cup of steaming coffee turning it around and around. Storm raced in circles near the table and between Gavin’s feet as he scrambled eggs and fried bacon. A pitcher of orange juice sat in the center of the table, and two small glasses waited next to the plates. “Synn, pop down a couple pieces of bread in the toaster.” He glanced at the whirling dervish at his feet. “I can’t move without stepping on your pup this morning.”
“Sure.” She grinned and got up doing as requested. “Any word from Tristian this morning?”
“Nope. I was surprised that he left the pub without talking to us—you last night.”
Shrugging one shoulder, she took a sip of the coffee and set the mug on the table. “Hannah came in shortly after the commotion and said something to him. They left together.”
She bounced a ball of crackling light from hand to hand, drawing it into different shapes, and colors. Storm settled at her feet intently watching the ball.
Though ill advised, he’d noticed playing with magic was a way of soothing her nerves or working out a problem. Part of the time, he didn’t think she realized she was doing it. Of late, she’d made a habit of keeping her magic signature disguised as Tristian insisted in her training. “Expecting problems?”
“No. Not looking forward to working with Tristian today. I should have—” The toast popped. She jumped up leaving the ball of magic hanging in the air. Quickly, she buttered the slices and placed the stack on a plate.
The unspoken intent of her unfinished statement hung between them. He jerked his chin toward the dog. “You better extinguish that ball before Storm pounces on you in an attempt to get to it and gets hurt. Breakfast is ready.” Picking up the skillet off the stove, he slid eggs onto the plates, scooped the last bit of egg into a bowl over the pup’s kibble. He left it on the counter to cool, put the pan in the sink, and eased into the chair beside her.
She stabbed a piece of egg as if it was the enemy and raised it halfway to her mouth when a knock sounded on the door. “It’s Tristian.” Slipping the bite in her mouth, she washed it down with a sip of coffee and picked up a piece of toast.
He snatched the piece from her, taking a bite and padded over to the door, letting the warlock in. “Good morning.”
“Morning.”
She took a bite of bacon and chewed as Tristian strode into the room. “To what do we owe the pleasure bright and early this morning?”
“Bruce and Angie arrived earlier. He wants us all to meet at the ruins of a castle on the coast within the hour.”
She swallowed and raised an eyebrow. “Who all is included in this little impromptu meeting?”
“Magic folk involved in last night’s fiasco including Bridget and Quinn.” He took out a piece of paper from his coat pocket. “Here’s a map. No magic, we’ll all arrive by mortal means.”
“But Bridget had no idea what is going on,” she protested.
“She does now. Quinn opened her eyes last night. Not how he’d planned on telling her, but he and I had a little conversation. Eventually, he understood it had to be done.”
“She had no idea he was a gryphon?” Her amazed stare shifted from Gavin to Tristian. “Bloody hell, she lived with the man.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Meeting in a Castle Ruins Takes an Unexpected Turn
She leaned forward fighting the wind as she walked up the winding trail to the castle ruins on the rocky cliffs. Pulling her coat close around her, she tugged her hat down over her ears. Gavin touched her on the shoulder and said something, but his words were lost in the strong gusts buffeting them rounding the bend.
“Bruce could’ve found a more out of the way meeting place, but I’m not sure how,” she grumbled.
“Had his reasons,” he yelled over the howl of the winds.
She stopped and stared at the crumbling stone castle and shook her head. A groan echoed through the stone structure when Gavin pushed open the heavy wooden door which barely hung on its hinges. Inside the castle at the far end of a huge room stood Bruce and Angie, Tiarnan and Erin, Hannah and Tristian, Bridget and Quinn warming themselves in front of a stone fireplace with steaming beverages in hand.
The roaring fire sent up orange and blue flames a couple feet high. Gale was snuggled down in a large overstuffed chair several feet back from the fire. Her feet we
re tucked beneath her.
“Guess we’re the last to arrive,” Gavin whispered.
She shot him an incredulous look and backed out the open door blinking up at the crumbling structure.
“Come on, Synn. You can admire the architecture—or lack thereof—later,” he urged.
“B-but…” She paused and took two steps through the door and rubbed her eyes, not believing what she was seeing for the second time.
This time Bruce’s booming voice echoed off the stone walls as he turned to face them. “Welcome. Come warm yourself by the fire before we proceed. You look absolutely frozen.”
“The castle is enchanted.” Gavin waved an arm in front of him. “I’ve heard stories about them, but never been inside one.”
Her mouth formed an O, and her gaze flitted around the huge open room. Stone staircases hugged opposite sides of the walls towering up to what appeared to be second and third floors. Paintings on the walls depicted bloody battles on one side and a magical faerie land on the other. Portraits of Bruce and Angie, and Andre and Matiah hung on either side of the fireplace. “Is this your place?” Sidling next to the fireplace, she glanced in Bruce’s direction. Ohhh…it was so warm.
“No… It belongs to my father. He prefers the tropical climate of Tahiti these days but keeps this for special occasions. It shields against prying eyes or magic of any creature. Consequently, the venue fit our needs today.”
“I don’t mean to be disrespectful, my lord, but this is my battle. Baltizar brought his minions here to disrupt the lives of innocents because of me. I can’t allow anyone to become collateral damage because of me.”
Bruce looked thoughtful, tented his fingers, and rocked back on his heels. “First, it’s Bruce. Not my lord. You know better, Synn. Second, you may be his intended target for revenge. However, he’s crossed the line once again regarding Brandy and Stefan. This time disrupting their wedding plans. I owe a debt to Stefan for saving Angie’s life. Baltizar’s behavior is traitorous. We’re going to terminate him and anyone connected to him.”