She had the sleeves of her blouse rolled up and she could see the streaks were past her elbow now and the hand the soul-sucker had bitten was so puffy it looked like a balloon or a rubber glove filled with water. Just twitching her fingers was excruciating and Cass wondered uneasily if Jake would really be able to heal it. And if so, exactly how much was it going to hurt?
I’m not going to think about that. After all, I want it to hurt. It’s better than making a fool of myself if it feels…too good instead, she told herself. Resolutely, she let her hand drop to her side and looked out the window again.
“I see you’re admiring my view.”
The deep voice behind her startled her so much that Cass jumped and let out an involuntary squeak. She turned to see Jake standing behind her with an unreadable look on his face. He had removed the charcoal suit jacket and the sleeves of his crisp, pale green shirt were rolled up, revealing tanned and muscular forearms.
“Uh, yeah,” she said, feeling incredibly glad that all he’d caught her looking at was the scenery. “I was actually trying to figure out where we are though. Last time I looked at a map of Florida, there were no mountains—especially not in the Tampa Bay area.”
“Not where—when,” Jake emphasized. Seeing her puzzled expression, he explained. “Elves don’t look for particular locations in which to build their homes, they look for particular times. In fact, the physical area my house occupies changes almost daily but the time it occupies—which is exactly seven thirty in the evening—does not.”
“Wow that’s really weird. And interesting.” Cass looked out the window again at the mountain range wreathed in mist imagining what an elfin real estate ad might look like.
This three bedroom, two bath condo is priced to move and located at beautiful 3:15 in the afternoon. Just the idea made her head hurt.
“Why?” she asked Jake. “I mean, what’s so special about seven thirty in the evening?”
“Remember I told you that my people draw their strength from the light of Lady of the Evening star?” Jake nodded at the single brilliant star high above the mountains. “That is she and I can always see her at this time. My lady,” he murmured and made a slight bow in the direction of the window. Cass realized he was addressing the star.
“Can it—I mean she—hear you?” she asked, wondering how much stranger things could possibly get.
“If she chooses.”
“But…but how? I mean, a star is just a flaming ball of gasses, isn’t it? Like the sun?”
“Maybe in your world,” Jake murmured. “Not here.”
“Well where is here, exactly?” Cass asked in exasperation. She was beginning to feel like they were talking in circles and combined with the strangeness of his house it was more than her sleep deprived brain could take.
“It doesn’t matter.” Jake frowned, getting back to business. “What matters is seeing to your hand before you get soul poisoning.”
“Soul poisoning? That’s an actual condition?”
“A deadly one if left untreated. Now let me see your hand, Cassandra.”
Reluctantly, Cass held out her hurt hand. She was disturbed to see that while they had been talking, the red lines had spread so high they disappeared into the rolled-up sleeve of her white blouse. Whatever the hell kind of venom the paint monster had been packing, it was certainly no joke. Now her whole arm was throbbing like a rotten tooth.
Jake sucked in a breath, a worried look flitting across his chiseled features when he saw her arm. “This isn’t good. The poison is moving very quickly.”
Cass felt a stab of fear.
“Hey, that’s my painting hand, you know. Even though I can’t really do any painting right now but still…can you heal it?”
He furrowed his brow.
“I think so if we begin immediately but it’s not your hand I am concerned with—it’s your heart. If the venom of the soul-sucker reaches your heart before we can draw it out you’ll become inherently evil for the rest of your life.”
“So I guess that’s considerably worse than just being a bitch once in a while, huh?” Cass tried to make light of it but his words and the worried look on his face scared her. What had she gotten herself into? And would her court-appointed elf be able to get her out?
“Do you ever stop joking?” A corner of Jake’s thin but sensual mouth quirked up in a half smile. “Never mind. Come sit down so I can work on you.” He led her over to the dark blue leather couch and seated her in front of the blue and green fire still crackling quietly on the hearth.
Cass glanced up at the TV puddle, hoping he wouldn’t suggest turning it on while he worked. She was profoundly grateful when he ignored it in favor of studying her hand. No doubt the bitchy reporter face was going to tell on her for watching his news the first chance it got but Cass preferred not to be there when it did.
There was a black oval coffee table with a bowl of steaming water on it, sitting in front of the couch that Cass hadn’t noticed before. Looking closer she saw some kind of pink and purple flower petals floating in the bowl. A soft floral scent like lavender and some kind of herb she couldn’t name was rising with the steam. Beside the bowl of scented water were some soft white bandages and a little pot with a label written in some flowing cursive script that she couldn’t read, even though she felt like she ought to be able to.
“First of all I need you to take off your blouse.” Jake was still looking at her hand with the distracted air of a surgeon faced with a serious case so he missed the incredulous look Cass was giving him.
“Right. Take off my shirt so you can heal my hand. I’m so sure,” she said flatly.
Jake looked up, his pale green eyes blazing.
“Cassandra, this is no joking matter. I need to see how far the soul-sucker’s venom has spread. Remove your blouse or I will remove it for you. Now.”
His arrogant tone set her teeth on edge and Cass wanted to tell him to go straight to hell. Why did he always have to be so high handed? But she remembered the genuine fear in his eyes when he’d examined her hand and also how fast the red streaks were climbing up her arm. Maybe she’d better do what he said.
“Fine.” With a short, exasperated sigh, she attempted to unbutton the white blouse—which was one of Phil’s old ones that Cass had borrowed to have something professional and non-black to teach in. To her dismay, the fingers on her hurt hand were so swollen that she couldn’t make them move—the buttons were completely beyond her.
“Here.” Without waiting for permission, Jake pushed her hands aside and unbuttoned the white silk blouse swiftly, his warm knuckles brushing the inner curves of her breasts.
The quick, impersonal touch seemed to start a fire inside her which only made Cass angrier. Damnit, she didn’t want to find him so attractive, especially when he was ordering her around like this!
When he had the blouse all the way unbuttoned, he drew it swiftly off her arms and studied her chest closely. Cass knew he was only looking to see if the red streaks had spread past her shoulder and down toward her heart (they hadn’t as far as she could tell). But she couldn’t help but be conscious of the fact that she had on a sheer white lace bra that clearly showed her dark pink nipples and areolas through its nearly see-through fabric.
Pretty underwear was her one clothing indulgence—it made her feel sexy and feminine even under the shapeless black artist clothes she usually wore—but she hadn’t expected to be showing this bra off to anyone when she picked it out. Well, no one but Brandon, but he wasn’t one to admire what she was wearing.
Cass had tried to give her boyfriend a strip tease once or twice but he preferred to skip the foreplay and get straight to the sex—a fact that always kind of pissed her off. But then, what could you expect from a guy who was still fourteen emotionally? After all, it wasn’t like she’d picked him for his brains or maturity so she didn’t exactly have the right to complain.
“It’s spreading quickly but it’s not as close to your heart as I’d feared. We
still have time if we act quickly.”
Dragging her mind away from her irritating boyfriend, Cass realized that the look on Jake’s face was a little less grim.
“Oh good,” she said dryly. “And here I thought you just wanted to stare at my endowments.”
Sharp leaf-green eyes flickered up to her face and one side of his narrow mouth quirked up in a smile.
“I assure you, Cassandra, that I am much too concerned with healing your hand and keeping the soul-sucker’s venom from spreading to consider your breasts, no matter how luscious they may be.”
Cass felt her cheeks heating as his eyes met and locked with hers. For a moment she held up her end of the staring contest but then the intensity of his gaze was too much and she had to look away. She bit her lip and thought some choice curse words that would have made her Nana’s silver hair curl. Why did he make her feel like this? And why couldn’t she control herself around him?
“I need you to dip your hand in the bowl,” Jake said, breaking her train of thought. “The water is spelled to draw the poison from your wound as I work.”
“All right.” Biting her lower lip against the pain of the hot water, Cass lowered her hand into the steaming bowl. For a moment the temperature change against her fevered skin was unbearable and her eyes watered with pain. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to relax and get used to the water, and the agony began to ease. A warm tingling was left in its place that felt almost good.
“Are you all right?” The deep voice made her realize that Jake was watching her reaction to the steaming water with concern.
“Fine.” Cass blinked back the tears that had risen to her eyes. “I’m fine.”
“You’re very brave for a human, you know,” he murmured. Cupping her cheek in one hand he brushed a stray tear away from her cheek with his thumb. “Very brave and very beautiful.”
“Why, because I didn’t scream like a little girl just now?” Cass frowned, trying to ignore the way his compliment made her heart beat faster. “And don’t start that ‘for a human’ crap again. Just because I’m only one eighth fairy doesn’t mean I have to be a coward.”
“I didn’t mean it that way.” He shook his head impatiently and dropped his hand. “And it’s not just this—I’m talking about the way you fought off the soul-sucker for as long as you could. Most people would have run from the daemon but you were shielding the children when I got to you—even though I get the distinct impression that teaching little ones isn’t your profession of choice.”
“I was just doing my job,” Cass protested. To her intense irritation she could feel her cheeks getting hot with a blush. “And no, it’s not my first choice but I do what I have to in order to support my art. Not that I’ll be painting in the foreseeable future, even if you can heal my hand.”
“Oh, I am going to heal you, Cassandra. And then we’ll take your godmother to court again and extract justice for all the pain and suffering she’s caused you. Make no mistake about that.” Jake’s mouth was set in a firm line, his dark brows drawn low. “Keep your hand in the bowl and try to relax as I work,” he murmured, scooting over so that he was closer to her on the couch. “And I warn you, there may be some pain. Some magic has to hurt in order to heal.”
Biting her lip again, Cass tried to do as he said. But how was she supposed to relax when she was expecting to be hurt?
Or when I know he’s about to touch me again, her mind whispered but she pushed the thought away.
Placing his fingertips lightly on her shoulder which was where the red streaks had stopped, Jake began to murmur something soft in the Gaelic dialect he used when he did magic. As he spoke he stroked down her arm as though encouraging the red streaks to shrink or recede.
Spell-singer, Cass thought as she watched him work and waited for the pain he had promised. I wonder if that’s why he’s called that—because his words have power?
She was so tense as she waited to be hurt that the warm flow of magic that ran down her arm like water surprised her. It didn’t hurt a bit although it was a strange sensation—as though he had coated her skin with warm wax. But as the warmth spread from her arm to the rest of her body, she began to feel uncomfortable in a whole different way.
It started in her nipples which were suddenly hard and achy. The lace of her bra felt itchy and too tight and she had the sudden urge to take it off and let the cool air caress her naked breasts.
Can’t do that—what’s wrong with me? she wondered hazily. But already the warm, pleasurable sensation was spreading to the rest of her body, making it hard to think.
She became aware that her pussy was wet, her thighs trembling as she pressed them together tightly under her black pencil skirt. Her clit was throbbing under the matching white lace panties she was wearing, aching to be stroked and caressed just the way he was stroking her arm. Aching to come.
Suddenly Cass realized that it was happening again—he was making her hot with his magic. Making her want him, want his touch on her body, his mouth on hers…
“Wait a minute!” she gasped, leaning away from his big hands which were still caressing her arm. “What kind of game do you think you’re playing here?”
“Game?” Jake’s eyes blazed. “This is no game, Cassandra. Look at your arm—if I don’t get rid of every last trace of soul poisoning you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life.”
“So you say, but why should I trust you?” Cass demanded angrily. “You said it would hurt, not…” She shook her head. “I just wish you wouldn’t lie to me about it. I was expecting to have pain not…not…the opposite.”
She could feel her face getting hot as she spoke but she glared at him anyway, refusing to let her embarrassment stop her from speaking her mind.
Jake sighed and sat back on the couch. “I don’t understand what’s happening here but I assure you that I am not lying to you, Cassandra. Just now when I was working on you, it should have felt like a thousand red ants biting your arm everywhere the streaks had appeared.”
“Well it didn’t,” Cass said. “It felt…a lot different than that.”
He frowned at her.
“Maybe you’d better tell me exactly what you were feeling when I was healing you. And why it disturbed you so much.”
“I don’t see why you need to know that,” Cass flared defensively. She removed her hand from the bowl full of water, noting that it looked much more normal and crossed her arms over her chest. There were still red streaks on her arm but there was no way she was letting Jake start on her again until he promised not to make her feel like she was going to lose control every time he worked on her.
“I need to know because you’re obviously not going to let me finish until I can promise to stop whatever it is my magic is doing to you as I heal you,” he said, sounding impatient. “How can I know that unless you tell me? Don’t make me place a truth spell on you, Cassandra. Just tell me.”
He looked so stern that Cass didn’t feel like she had any choice.
“Fine.” She blew out a breath and looked down at her lap, refusing to meet his eyes. “At first it felt tingly and then it was like you’d poured warm wax down my arm—coated my skin with it. Okay?”
“It sounds considerably more pleasant than the sensation of ants biting you which was what I expected you to feel,” Jake growled, his jaw clenching. “I’m afraid I don’t see the problem.”
“The problem is that it was a hell of a lot more than just pleasant.” Cass shook her head, still refusing to meet his eyes. “It…it spread. The warm tingly feeling, I meant.”
“Spread where?” Jake tilted her chin up, looking into her eyes. “Tell me, Cassandra. I need to know.”
“Here.” Reluctantly she unfolded her arms and pointed to her breasts. Her nipples were still stiff and achy under the white lace bra and she knew he could probably tell how hard they were through the thin material.
“So the sensation—the pleasure—spread to your breasts?” Jake’s voice was suddenly l
ow and intimate.
Feeling both ashamed and defiant, Cass nodded.
“And…other places.”
“Where?” he murmured. “Tell me, Cassandra.”
“Between…between my legs,” she whispered, feeling like she was drowning in his leaf green eyes.
“To your sex. Your cunt?” His voice was like rough velvet along her spine.
The blunt, dirty word uttered in his polite British accent sent a shiver through Cass and she bit her lip, willing the unwanted desire away. “Yes,” she whispered in a strangled voice. “Yes, there.”
“Did it make you wet, Cassandra? Did it make you slippery and hot and wet when I was touching you…healing you?” Jake was still cupping her chin, forcing her to look at him.
“What do you think?” Cass demanded, making herself meet his hooded eyes. She couldn’t believe he was talking to her like this. Couldn’t believe that her body was still reacting to his even though he’d stopped healing her. “And why do you need to know?”
“I think my healing did make you wet. Very wet and ready indeed.” He stroked her cheek, his eyes never leaving hers. “And I needed to know because I need to understand what’s happening.”
“What is?” Cass whispered. “Happening, I mean? Why do I feel this way when you heal me?”
Jake looked at her intently.
“Your blood is only part fairy—not enough to feel the pain my words of power would cause to another of the Realm but enough to respond to my magic. You’re responding in a human way to my particular set of skills for a very specific reason.”
“And what is that?” Cass pulled her chin away from his hand and sat back, trying to regain her composure.
Jake looked thoughtful, as though he was trying to think how to explain.
“The Realm of the Fae is separate from your own human world by a barrier that is created and enforced by the Queen of the Realm’s magic but it was not always so. Thousands of years ago there was no barrier between the two worlds and my people, the high elves, came and went in your world as they pleased. They were worshiped by some of the earlier humans—worshiped as fertility gods, in fact.” He leveled a stern look at Cass who was still trying to pretend that nothing had happened. “There was a reason for that, Cassandra. And there was a reason for the virgin sacrifice the humans offered my people to ensure that the crops would grow and their women would be fertile.”
Be Careful What You Wish For Page 15