Xamien’s fingers dug into her hip bones when he felt the burst of rage sweep through her veins. “He has no say about who I fuck.”
Harsh, but true. They’d kept their fling simple, but suddenly Xamien felt the repercussions of what they were doing. The ebb of jealousy was beginning to raise its monster head as the thought of her laying in another man’s arms sunk into his mind. He’d never considered Delara fucking anyone else because they’d always kept the discussion of other men and women out of their bed. He slept with other women, their relationship wasn’t monogamous by any means, but when she visited Spain she was completely his, and the reality is that she wasn’t his at all. And that bothered him.
Jedrik bowed his head and nodded. “I know. He doesn’t. But I assumed…Delara I just thought one day—” Xamien stiffened and Jedrik noticed, stopping mid-sentence. “I just think this might be the last web to put him over the edge. He can’t watch you with another man, Delar.” Jedrik cleared his throat. “Especially not…well sorry man, but you.” Jedrik left them in the doorway then and his footsteps could be heard in the kitchen.
Xamien tried to push into her mind, but that stupid barrier came crashing over her emotions like a garage door. He could easily open it, but decided to give her the privacy.
She stepped away from him and walked out the door to the car. Xamien needed to get her to Spain, not only for her safety, but so this didn’t blow up in their face. Waleron may not like that he was sleeping with a woman he loved and Xamien wanted to be standing on his territory when shit went down.
He had to grab her bags, but he needed a taste first. Strolling down the steps he walked straight up to her and, despite her protests, cupped her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. “You’re sexy when you’re pissed off at me.” She rolled her eyes and began to open the car door. He slammed it shut with his hip. “My limit has just been reached. We’re joining the mile high club.”
She sucked in her breath as he lowered his mouth and claimed her lips, tasting the sweetness he was beginning to discover he wanted more often than originally planned. She attempted to pull back, but he deepened the kiss. Their chemistry was what first drew them together and trying to deny it was like trying to put out a house fire with a squirt gun.
He felt her push hard on his chest and her lips weren’t moving beneath his. He knew immediately what the issue was—Waleron.
When she first went to Xamien, it had been to purge the ache of Waleron. To forget everything. She didn’t want the effort of thinking or worrying—just to be swept up into Xamien’s arms and forget. He did that for her. He gave her the power to forget what waited for her on the other side. His lips were rough and demanding, his grip on her unforgiving as the fire ignited between them. But suddenly, she didn’t want the lips to be his. Waleron’s words kept pulsating—lose his Taldeburu because of her. She had to go to another Talde. The reality that they would be separated... Hadn’t that been what she wanted? Wouldn’t it stop the vicious circle of love and hate?
Xamien jerked back, his hand in her hair alarmingly tighter than usual.
“Xam—”
“Down!” he shouted. He shoved her away from him and she fell backwards into a pile of snow.
She opened up her Tracking senses and scanned the area; she smelled a mixture of garlic, fish, and some unknown substance—chemical. Suddenly Xamien grunted, then his eyes shuttered and his hand went to the side of his neck where blood oozed between his fingers.
“Xamien!”
“Delara!” Jedrik shouted at the same time, running from the house. “Move!”
She rolled to the side and another dart shot into the snow, inches from where her head had been. Jedrik’s eyes were blazing as he ran and scanned the area using his vision. Suddenly he dove to the ground. A dart flew past him and embedded into a tree behind him.
Xamien fell to his knees, his fingers holding a dart protruding from his neck. Delara crawled to his side, her shoulder going beneath his arm trying to hold him up. “Get away, Kitten,” he grit out. “Get to...cover.”
She ignored him. “Xamien? Shit, Xamien.” The dart contained some sort of drug. She could smell it. She fell forward with Xamien’s weight as he lost his strength. “Jedrik!” she screamed.
He was already at her side, arms coming underneath Xamien’s limp body and heaving upward. “Phone. Back pocket. Anstice is at Danielle’s.” He struggled to haul Xamien up and over his shoulder, but managed the dead weight with her help. He ran with Xamien towards the house.
Another dart whizzed past Delara’s head and if she hadn’t tilted forward to look at the phone it would’ve been embedded in her neck. She ran after Jedrik, her finger trembling as she pressed number two on the cell. Every nerve was shooting off electrical jolts as she waited impatiently for Anstice to pick up. The Healer managed a half hello before Delara was relaying what happened, which was not much besides Xamien having a dart shot into his neck. By the time she hung up, she was sitting on the bed in the guest room with Xamien lying still as death, his skin looking like the snow he had pushed her into. She grabbed his hand; the warmth had vanished leaving behind a limp iciness.
Jedrik passed her the dart. “Any ideas what this is?”
Delara used all her scenting abilities to try and decipher what had been injected into Xamien. “The best I’ve got is animal hair, most likely dog, and alcohol based.” Probably the animal part was from whoever shot it, either they had a dog or they’d stolen the drug from a place that had dogs. Vet’s office maybe. Her finger slid over the tip and she noticed a thick, syrupy solution. Anstice would know. She was a veterinarian, although no longer practicing since she had joined the Senses and became Keir’s maite. Being a Healer for a bunch of Senses warriors was a full time job.
“Delara,” Jedrik’s voice rose as Xamien’s breathing became erratic. “What the frig is happening to him? Crap, where the hell is Anstice?”
“Right here,” Anstice said striding into the room with Keir behind her and her faithful Newfoundland dog, Grim. “Move.” She shoved Jedrik aside and glared at Delara as if to say drop Xamien’s hand.
Delara refused, wanting to feel what was happening in Xamien’s body. Anstice raised her brows with curiosity and then shrugged after a few seconds, laying her hands over Xamien’s neck.
Xamien’s body began to convulse. Delara’s mouth went dry and her insides curled in distress at the thought of losing him. He may be arrogant, cocky, and exasperating at times, but through the years he’d also helped her whenever she needed someone outside of her Talde. He was patient and kind and he always listened to what she needed emotionally and physically.
The healing seeped into him and Delara felt the sudden impact of the dart as it hit his neck and then she felt his heavy limbs, slowed breathing, and saw his foggy vision. She saw Xamien stumble and felt the fear in him. His first thought was for her safety.
Delara tightened her hand on Xamien’s as his body fought the drug pumping through him while Anstice’s heat chased and burned it. Delara felt the intense temperature from Anstice’s healing and a few times she wanted to break contact with Xamien, because her palm burned so hot she thought her skin was going to melt. But she gripped tighter, knowing Xamien had no one here for him except her.
“Dormitor,” Anstice said. “Large enough dose to kill a horse. A Senses? I’m not sure.” She lifted her hands and moved back a step, leaning into Keir’s embrace as he wrapped his arms around her waist and took all her exhausted weight onto him. “I suspect it wasn’t meant to kill.” Anstice nodded to Delara. “I’ll check in on him later.” Keir led her from the room and Delara noticed Anstice sway against him. It took a great deal out of her to destroy the drug through healing.
Jedrik ran his hand through his blond locks. “Jesus that was a close one.”
“It was meant for me. He...he pushed me out of the way.” The horror affected Delara more than she cared to admit. One moment he’d been kissing her and the next he was on the ground and
white as death. She reached up and smoothed his hair back with a gentle sweep of her index finger.
She never heard Jedrik leave the room nor did she notice Waleron standing in the doorway.
Chapter 6
Waleron had received the call from Jedrik about the darts and Traced to the house. He immediately ordered Damien and Ryker to scout the area. He called Balen in to assist with making certain all the perimeters were secure. Obviously, someone had been able to get close enough to the Talde house without being detected until the last minute.
He ran down the stairs looking for Delara. It had been close. Too close. His heart was racing a marathon as he thought of what could have happened. If the darts had hit their target…
Waleron stopped dead in front of the open guestroom door—watching. Delara sat at Xamien’s bedside, her hand gently smoothing back his hair. Her eyes were filled with sorrow and her brows were lowered. She was worried. There was a quietness about her, as if shewas caring for someone she knew… No. That was impossible. She just met Xamien. They were virtual strangers.
She is mine! Delara belongs to me!
He felt like he’d been punched in the gut by his most loyal warrior. His Scar shifted violently on his neck, their rage building to a catastrophic level. No pills were going to ease the Scar this time and he knew he’d have to escape before he lost control.
He Traced home and walked to the basement where he unlocked the door to his steel room. The room was virtually bare except for the chains attached to the wall and a steel box on the floor that contained medical supplies just in case he required them. Asking a Healer here was out of the question.
He locked then bolted the door.
His Scar was now traveling up and down his arms, then back up to curl around his neck and slither across his chest. He felt the uncontrollable urge to smash his fist through something, to kill, to destroy—it was magnified within seconds. He quickly locked the chains around his wrists and ankles.
The Scar was now at full power, along with the anger it carried from all Waleron’s lifetime, letting loose as it swirled across his body, the movement making his skin feel like it was on fire. His flesh crackled as the snake hissed and fed off the encapsulated anger that was racing through him.
He was becoming his Scar and it was pissed.
Torment ripped apart his insides as his Scar chewed through every part of him, feeding off his flesh, teeth tearing, pieces of skin being ravaged.
It went on for hours and Waleron could no longer withstand the pain. He finally screamed out, throwing his head back, his muscles tightening as the snake moved angrily. His screams echoed again and again until the Scar, tiring of its rage, settled back into place on his neck.
Waleron collapsed and he hung limp in the chains, his throat and body raw. He closed his eyes, exhausted, and a fleeting image of Delara swept across his mind.
****
Xamien felt like he had been hit by a train then dragged over rocky terrain for hundreds of miles. His head pounded and every muscle ached. It took him three tries to open his eyes, but luckily the room being in darkness alleviated some of the agony. He went to raise his hand when he felt soft fingers laced with his.
Delara. He watched her sleeping form with utter fascination. She was sitting in a chair beside the bed, her hand resting in his. Her cheek lay on her crossed arms and her breath was slow and rhythmic. At one time, they were in opposite places. When she came to him after losing her child she was grieving and, between them, a bond had formed—trust, nothing sexual. Then she watched Waleron choose Trinity and she’d been desolate and hurting. For days he sat at her bedside holding her hand, feeding her homemade soup. It was that visit to Spain where they’d become intimate.
With his free hand, he stroked the side of her cheek, not wanting to wake her, but needing to touch her skin. She instantly jolted, sitting up with her brilliant eyes wide with alarm. He was glad when she didn’t release his hand.
Their eyes met and it took all his restraint to avoid pulling her beneath him and sinking his mouth over hers in a deep kiss. Just looking at her weary expression, those sweet luscious lips, and jagged, Telwar-cut strands of hair flouncing in every direction had his body forgetting about the aches and pains.
“Someone didn’t like the idea of you kissing me,” Delara teased. She attempted to slip her hand from his, but he wasn’t ready to let her go.
“You know damn well that wasn’t meant for me.” Any enemies he had were in Europe, at least that he knew of. He touched where the dart had punctured his neck. Whatever was in it, it sure had some kick. God, he should’ve sensed the bloody thing coming at them sooner. What happened? You were distracted, Xamien reminded himself.
She squeezed his hand. “Thank you Xamien.”
“Door locked?” Xamien asked. Without waiting for a reply he focused his attention and slid the bolt in place, wincing at the pain it caused his mind for such a simple action. Delara suddenly looked like a frightened rabbit, but he ignored her response and tugged on her hand. “Keep me warm, Kitten.”
“What?” she sputtered. “Xamien, I told you not here. Anstice will be coming to check on you and—”
“I’m not asking.” He gave another tug and half dragged her onto the bed beside him. “No one would dare unlock that door.” No way was he wasting another second over her fears. He had no intention of making passionate love to her tonight—although the thought was tempting—but he was going to feel her body up against him while he slept for the next twelve hours.
Xamien gave another sharp jerk and she landed with her back to his chest, just the way he wanted it. He wrapped his arm over her waist and tucked his head into the crook of her neck, breathing in her sweet, succulent scent that already had his temperature rising to an incredible height. “Stop struggling, Delara.” His tone was gruff and assertive.
She did and he heard her sigh. The corners of his lips curved upwards and he chanced a quick kiss on the side of her neck which, to his delight, caused goosebumps on her skin.
“It was Dormitor,” Delara said. “Someone tried to—”
“I care not, sweetness. I live and now I have you in my arms to keep me warm. That’s all I wish to think upon.”
“But—”
She tried to turn around and face him but he kept her immobile. “Kitten, can we just lay here quiet please? I need a moment.”
It took her half an hour before she relaxed in his arms and then another ten minutes before she finally fell asleep. Only then did he let himself nod off.
When Delara woke at dawn, she was still locked in Xamien’s embrace. His fingers were stroking her hair while his other hand was under her shirt and caressing her stomach. She felt a flicker of wetness on the base of her neck. Then his lips were suckling her ear, which had her wide awake and pulling towards the edge of the bed.
“No.” Xamien purred, pulling her back into his arms. “It is not time to rise. Well,” he chortled. “It can’t be helped for some areas. You tend to do that to me.”
Her body stiffened. Months ago she’d have yearned to immerse into the sweet pleasure of his arms and whatever else he tempted her with, but in Spain, not here. It was different here. And different now. This was her home. She’d already fallen asleep in his arms. Now the entire Talde would know, which meant Waleron too.
“Xamien. You promised.”
“Did I?” he replied while kissing the back of her neck.
“Xamien, we can’t do this here.” Delara rolled over to face him.
He leaned forward and nibbled on her upper lip. Then he kissed her eyes, the tip of her nose, and her lips. “Yes we can, sweetness.”
They’d been doing this for years but now…now it felt wrong. God, it pounded into her head like a sledge hammer. It felt like she was betraying Waleron. Stupid. How could she betray him when he refused to love her? But this…this with Xamien was casual. It shouldn’t matter. It wasn’t as if she was throwing the new love of her life into Waleron’s face.
Xamien grabbed her chin. “He’s in bed with us.”
She slowly lowered his hand from her, then leaned forward and placed a light kiss on his lips. He was referring to Waleron of course. “Please Xamien.”
Xamien was laid back, but there was this intensity in him that was, in a way, stronger than Waleron’s. It was his calm that made him dangerous. If Xamien fought, she knew he’d never lose his cool; he’d be relentless and patient. Waleron had rage burning inside him that threatened to explode at any moment. He fought with cold, detached anger.
Xamien rolled onto his back, his hands gripping the headboard. “Kitten, I need to own you and you won’t let me.”
“You will never own me, Xamien.”
“True, but I own your body in Spain.”
“Oh get over yourself.” She hit him in the chest and he grunted in dramatic fashion.
Xamien laughed and made a grab for her again. She loved that he could let go of the seriousness easily. But her mind was still fractured with thoughts of Waleron.
“I need to shower.” Delara scrambled from his reach so fast that she fell off the bed and landed in a heap on the floor. She swore beneath her breath while climbing to her feet. She avoided looking at Xamien, although from the corner of her eye she saw him sit up and watch her.
“I could do with a shower myself,” Xamien teased and proceeded to get out of bed, half naked.
Delara backed up towards the door. “No way, Xamien. I’ll use another bathroom. You use this one.”
She had to get out of here. If Waleron came by he’d know she spent the night in Xamien’s bed and this time he may not be able to... What was she thinking? She and Waleron were over. This had nothing to do with him. And yet, it always did.
She yanked open the door just as a mist of cool rain touched her skin. She spun around abruptly.
“Hello, Delara. Xamien.” Genevieve, the Wraith of Water stood by the bedroom window in all her magnificence. It was as if she purposely picked that spot so the sunlight could emphasize her beauty. The morning rays caught her blond hair, making it appear almost translucent, while the moisture clinging to her skin scintillated. Genevieve smiled at Xamien, perusing him up and down as if she knew intimately what was beneath his jeans. Maybe she did. “It is a pleasure to see you again, Xamien. You look well.”
FALL (The Senses) Page 13