Elijah: The Nightwalkers

by Jacquelyn Frank

  Elijah had not meant to attack her in this manner, but the moment he had sensed her nearness, smelled the perfume of her skin and hair, he could not do anything else. He devoured the cinnamon taste of her mouth relentlessly, groaning with relief and pleasure as her hands curled around the fabric of his shirt and her incredible body molded to his with perfection. He pulled her hips directly to his own, leaving no question about how hard and fast her effect on him was. He felt her swinging perfectly with the onslaught of his pressing body and adamant kisses.

  Everything was perfection. Top to bottom, beginning to end, and he had been starving without her. He also knew she had been just as famished without him.

  She was the first to put any distance between them, by breaking away from his mouth, letting her head fall back as far as it could as she drew for breath hard and quick.

  “Oh no,” she groaned huskily, shaking her head so her hair brushed over the arms around her waist.

  Even those strands betrayed her, reaching eagerly to coil around his wrists and forearms, trapping him around her effectively, just in case of the outrageous scenario that he might want to move away from her. She lifted her head and opened her eyes, their golden depths full of her desire, and her anguish.

  “I did not want this,” she whispered to him, her forehead dropping onto his chest when the heat in his eyes proved too intense for her to bear. “Why will you not let me go?”

  “Because I can’t,” he said, disentangling one hand from her hair so he could take her chin in hand and force her to look at him. “No more than you can.”

  “I hate this,” she said painfully, her eyes blinking rapidly as they smarted with tears of frustration. “I hate not being able to control my own body. My own will. If this is what it means to be Imprinted, it is a weakness I will abhor with my last breath.”

  Then she pushed away, defying every nerve in her body that screamed at her to step back into his embrace. She could only backtrack a couple of steps, however, because her hair remained locked tight around his upraised wrist, pulling him along with her…as if he wouldn’t have followed her anyway.

  When she realized her back was to a window, she felt a moment of panic. However, she realized no one was likely to see them, because they were over three stories up from the houses and people below.

  “You call it weakness, and yet as affected as I am by it myself, I choose to call it strength.”

  His rich baritone voice echoed around her, making her heart leap in alarm. She grabbed his wrist and pulled him farther down the hallway, the dark shadows enclosing them as they reduced the potential for echoes.

  “Why are you here? And do not blame it on a holy day that will not arrive for two days.”

  “I do not intend to ‘blame’ anything. I don’t believe I need an excuse to see you, Siena.” He reached for her face, but she jerked back and dodged him. “And it is because of that holy day two nights from now that I am here. We need a little bit of resolution between us before that night comes, Siena.”

  “I am not in need of resolution. If you are, you must come to it on your own.”

  She turned to walk away from him, but she forgot he was just as quick as she was. No one could outrun the wind. His hand closed easily around her forearm, pulling her back…and snapping the temper and pain she had been holding in tenuous control for days.

  She released the cry of a wounded animal and flew at him. He saw the flash of claws and felt the sharp sting of their cut as they scored his face. Shocked by the attack for all of a second, Elijah reacted on instinct. He had her by her hair in a heartbeat, wrapping it around his fist in a single motion, turning her around so her back was to him and her claws pointed in a safer direction. She grunted softly and then screamed in frustration as she found herself trapped face first against the stonecutter’s art.

  His enormous body was immediately flush against her back, securing her to the unforgiving stone as he caught one hand and pushed it against the stone as well.

  “Let go of me!” She struggled in vain, unable to move a micron in any direction. “You’ll have hands full of a spitting-mad cougar if you do not release me this instant!”

  “I highly doubt that,” he purred easily into her ear, his mouth brushing over the lobe of it in a way that made her shiver involuntarily. “Your hair is bound around my wrist, and if I am not mistaken, that is more than adequate enough to keep you from being anything than what you are in this moment. Which is nothing more dangerous than a spoiled child, I think.” Her response was to call him a name he was not familiar with, but had a good idea as to its meaning all the same. “Then stop throwing tantrums because you cannot have your way, kitten,” he instructed her smoothly, his mouth drifting down the side of her neck slowly. “I have come here before Samhain because I did not want to hurt you, Siena. If you do not reconcile yourself to the inevitable by then, I will end up doing just that. And you may not believe it, but it truly is the last thing I want to do.”

  Siena closed her eyes, trying not to listen to his words and the patient, soothing tone they were delivered on. She clenched her teeth against the rivers of fire bleeding into her body from the touch of his artful mouth. She did not want to be swayed so easily by him. He could call it a tantrum or anything else he wished—it was her independence that was at stake, and she would not give it up without a fight.

  “I am not here to rob you of your independence, kitten,” he said softly, making her exhale in frustration at how easily he was beginning to know her thoughts. “In fact, I would rather cut off my own hands than do equal damage to you. It is your spirit, your independence, your fight, and all those instincts you cradle so close to your heart that make you so perfect for me. And make me perfect for you.”

  “How are you perfect for me?” she asked bitingly. “Because you can make my body respond to yours? Is this your idea of perfection?”

  “It is a start,” he mocked her, chuckling against her pulse. “But there is much more to it than that, and I don’t think you need me to point that out.” He moved close to her ear once more, whispering his next words on the softest of breaths. “What better mate for an accomplished huntress then a warrior who brings the scent of her prey on the breezes? Who better to be the companion of the sensual cat then the male who will never get enough of her scent, her movements, her taste, and her touch? And who would you prefer over the one who can bow his head beneath the power of your hold around his throat? Have you forgotten that, kitten? Have you put away the memory of how easily I accepted your assertions in that moment, and all the moments when we were in bed together?”

  “I am amazed your ego survived such wounds,” she said, her bitter sadness heavy in her voice as she struggled to ignore the truths she did not want to hear.

  “My ego is satisfied just to hold you. To feel your body against mine and know it will be there always. I would be happy simply to watch you as you hunt, hold court, sleep…” Elijah touched his mouth to her temple. “And I wish you would look into me to know what it means for a man such as myself to say such things.”

  Elijah released his grip on her hair, stepping back from her.

  She took a long moment before she pushed away from the wall and turned to face him. It took her a moment more to lift her golden eyes to his.

  “Why would you allow anyone to do such a thing? To invade your thoughts.” She shivered in such a way that he felt it along the fine hairs of his body.

  “Because I grew up in a society where such things are commonplace. We are very forward and up front with our thoughts and feelings. We share easily with one another. Something you may find liberating one day.”

  “I already do. I speak freely with Syreena and Anya, my thoughts as available to them as they would be to the probes of your Mind Demons. The difference is, I choose to do this. The choice is not taken from me without my permission.”

  Elijah leaned his back against the opposite wall from her and folded his arms across his broad chest. The movement made h
er suddenly aware of the fact that this was the first time she had seen him in perfect health since last Beltane. He emanated it. He was a tide of power, a current of lethal strength, and an elemental sexiness that made her shudder within her own skin. What would it be like, to make love with him now that he was strong once again?

  He smiled, a cocky, amused grin that made her remember he was attuned to the things she thought. She made a sound of vicious frustration and purposefully looked in his eyes, refusing to act girlish.

  “My people believe that the moment a female accepts the Imprinting,” the warrior said with deceptive neutrality, “she has given her permission to be a part of all that it means. The telepathy is included in that.”

  “I did not give my permission for this! You know that!”

  “Untrue. The permission was given the moment you moved into my arms of your own free will. The moment you told me you wanted me and accepted me.”

  “I wish I had never said those cursed words!” she bit out vehemently. “You have been throwing them back at me ever since, to the point where I wish you would choke on them!”

  Siena realized she had gone too far about a heartbeat before she actually finished saying the harsh words. Elijah’s eyes flared with green fire, causing her breath to freeze in her lungs as he sprang away from the wall and seized her arms with incredible strength. She had never felt anything like the power of those gripping hands. She suddenly realized exactly how much restraint he had constantly been using with her. By feeling this power, she now understood the vastness of his gentleness.

  She found herself so close to him that she could see the striations her claws had dotted across his cheek. It had been only a glancing blow, the marks only releasing tiny drops of blood that looked like someone had stamped Morse code over his skin.

  “You can’t undo what has been done by your own actions no matter how hard you wish it away,” he ground out, giving her a single, harsh shake. “Don’t say things you will come to regret, kitten. We can make this easy between this, or we can make it hard. The choice is yours and you have two days to make it in.”

  “You will have to find me first!” she hissed back at him before she thought better of it.

  “Very well,” he said coldly, releasing her so suddenly she stumbled backward. “If this is the way you wish it to be, you will only have yourself to blame for it.”

  Elijah lifted his arms and with a blink twisted into the nothingness of the wind.

  Once again he took his path right over her, whipping through her dress and hair violently, stamping her with his emotions of the moment in a dozen ways at once.

  When she was sure he was gone, Siena finally let her rubbery knees give way.

  She slowly sank to the floor, her back sliding over intricate carvings of a pair of swans, their necks entwined in such a way that it was impossible to tell which head belonged to which bird.

  Isabella lifted her head from its position over the baby’s crib when she heard the windows shudder in their casings. It was not a windy day, so she suspected it was not a naturally occurring phenomenon. She hurriedly kissed her fingertips and touched them to the sleeping infant’s head before moving to close the nursery door and taking quickly to the stairs.

  She paused halfway down when she saw Elijah pacing back and forth, his hands running repeatedly through his hair. Now that she was looking for it, Isabella noticed the change in the color that had previously escaped her notice. She rolled her eyes at herself.

  Some Enforcer you are, she remarked to herself mentally.

  Elijah looked up at that second and looked relieved to see her. He hurried over to her, leaping up the stairs and practically dragging her down them and into the living room. He gave her a little push that sent her bouncing into a seat on the couch.

  “I need to talk to you,” he said restlessly, immediately resuming his agitated circuit across the carpeting.

  “So I gathered,” she responded dryly.

  “I do not know what to do about this insanely stubborn female!” He said “female” the way some would say “nuclear weapons.” “She is determined to drag her paws, kicking and scratching every inch of the way. She will force me into doing something rash and painful, and the very idea of it is burning a hole right through the middle of my chest!” He barely paused for breath. “Iron weaponry is nothing compared to this, I promise you that, Bella. This is exactly why I never sought a mate—you know that, don’t you? I knew it would be nothing but trouble.”

  “Yes, I can see how you’d feel that way.”

  Her sarcasm went completely over his head.

  “All I had to do was watch how Jacob gets turned into knots over you and I just knew it was not for me.” He stopped short and looked at her with sudden sheepishness. “Not to imply it is your fault, of course.”

  “Of course,” she agreed wryly.

  “But all you have to do is look at the way you had to tell him to back off when you were trying to help me. There’s no sanity, no reason behind thinking and acting like that. I think I even understand what Siena is so afraid of. It is taking me over like some kind of…of…”

  “Disease?” Isabella supplied helpfully.

  “Exactly! It is like a sickness, and she is the only cure. Her! The most pigheaded, stubborn, irrational, pigheaded—”

  “You said that already—”

  “—woman in the world!” he finished, a sharp gesture of his hand punctuating his declarations. “Do I have time for this? I mean, really have time? There are two psychotic female Demons running loose out there and I need every last ounce of my attention focused on that if I am to be any use to Noah and Jacob. Any one of us could fall into another of Ruth’s traps at any time, or be Summoned because she knows so many power names. It sickens me to think of her running around with such deadly knowledge. Her next victim is not likely to be as lucky as I was.”

  “Yes, there isn’t a Lycanthrope Queen running around in every forest, after all,” Bella added.

  “Exactly!” Elijah looked relieved that she seemed to understand. He was completely oblivious of the giggle she smothered behind quick fingers. “And then there is your daughter, poor thing, running around without her names because of all that has happened. At this rate you will be calling her ‘Hey you!’ for the rest of her life.”

  Isabella bit her bottom lip, resisting the urge to give in to the smart remark that surfaced.

  “And don’t get me started about necromancers and hunters.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” she assured him.

  “There now, see? How hard was that? You understand, right? You use simple logic. One plus one equals two. There is no other answer, no changing it no matter how hard you try. So the only other choice is to accept the inevitable and move on. In spite of all the trouble this is causing me, I am willing to do that.” He gestured to make an invisible path in front of himself. “Just accept what is what and move into the future. But she refuses to see that.”

  At last, Elijah ran out of steam. He plopped down onto the couch next to Isabella so hard she bounced in her seat. He sighed with heavy frustration and defeat, closing his eyes and leaning his head back.

  “I have a headache,” he complained. “What kind of Demon gets a headache?”

  “A tense one?” Bella offered.

  “Exactly!” He sighed again. “I am so glad we could talk about this. There aren’t many people I would confide in, but I trust you, Bella. You are more like me than the others. Your attitude, sense of humor…your total disrespect for all this bull we all take too damn seriously.”

  Elijah stood up again, bending to give her a brief kiss on her cheek.

  “I will stop back later. I am going to go hunt down some necromancers and blow off a little steam.”

  In an instant he was nothing but a breeze blowing out of the open windows he had entered the house through not five minutes earlier.

  What in hell was that all about? Isabella’s exasperated husband asked in the fo
refront of her mind.

  Well, my guess would be woman troubles.

  Well, little flower, I would say I know exactly how he feels…

  Except you’d get killed when you got home.

  Exactly.

  CHAPTER 10

  Jacob drifted gently down from the sky, manipulating gravity with a perfection of Earth Demon skills unparalleled amongst their kind. In fact, it was widely believed that Jacob would be the first of his element in over a thousand years to reach the level of Ancient.

  It was not comforting, however, when one understood that was because all the rest of them had simply not lived long enough to reach the age of 700 years, the time where such distinction took place.

  Jacob’s feet rested lightly on a thick tree branch and he lowered himself into a crouch until his hands also touched the bark of the old oak tree.

  The Enforcer could very well be considered the closest thing to a Lycanthrope their people had. He could hunt, scent, camouflage, and behave in dozens of ways that all the beasts of the Earth could behave. Not many of his people knew this, but he could not only charm the animals, he could mimic them by taking their form.

  It was not like the Lycanthropes, however. It was all just a Xeroxing…an adoption of physical makeup and skills. Changelings were as much the animals as the animals themselves. Jacob would need several more centuries with his relatively new ability before he could enjoy a perfection of emulation that could be considered on par with the Lycanthropes’ natural metamorphosis.

  At the moment he was in his normal form and seeking through the night and the trees with his uncannily sharp vision. He had been tracking the Demon for quite some time, finding it easy to mask himself from his target in spite of the other’s skill. It only proved how distracted and intent the Demon was on its course of action.

  The wind blew harshly through the creaking limbs of the forest trees, tugging last, stubborn leaves down into spiraling deaths where they would join the others at rest on the forest floor. Jacob glanced up at the nearly full moon, rechecking his position by it, then watched as a whirlwind of leaves burst apart to coalesce into Elijah’s natural form.