Simon had ordered "all available hands on deck", meaning he intended to use Order personnel to man the barricades instead of police. He was so impressed with the way Glen had handled Elora's rescue, he put him in charge of briefing the rest of the participants in the dining hall and called the meeting over. They would reconvene at 0600.
Kay slapped Ram on the shoulder and smiled. "Like shooting ducks in a barrel."
Ram's mind was too preoccupied with the furtive looks he had seen exchanged between the fae prince and his sister. When he gave Song a warning look, her responding flush was curious and troubling. He made a mental note to ask what that was about later. At the moment he had more pressing matters: a wife who could use a lot of tender loving care, a new elflin', some vampire in need of a cure, and a wayward Baka who had, apparently, gone and gotten himself captured and turned into a vampire. Again.
Ram returned to Elora's room while the other three knights followed Heaven to the stash of pistols that had been redesigned to deliver cure canisters. They discovered that two of the rapid-fire dart guns were missing. No surprise. Storm and Kay had surmised that Baka had gone off half-cocked on a rogue, solo mission. A stupid ass, rogue, solo mission.
Just to be on the safe side, Simon recalled a team of four knights who were currently on duty in London as backup. The operation, now code named Close Dawn, was an all or nothing proposition. As Storm had said, they couldn't take a chance on playing their hand with the vampire without a complete extermination. Simon had been quick to remind Storm that the new politically correct terms were "cure" or "reversal", not extermination.
Where planning was concerned, the only real gamble was that they didn't know how many vamps might be using the Underground vaults as their current address. There were enough pistols for each of the eight knights to have two, plus another two for Glen if they decided to include him. There were also about two hundred vials of cure ready to snap into the canisters right before they headed out and they were pretty sure there wouldn't be more than two hundred vampire.
The safety team was scheduled to arrive sometime during the night and be briefed at meeting the following morning. That would be plenty of prep for experienced hunters. After all, if this worked, it would be like Kay said. Shooting ducks in a barrel.
Storm hadn't realized how sore he was until he eased under the covers with Litha. Fresh from a hot, muscle-soothing shower, he let her warm her feet on his warm naked body, which instantly stole every bit of relaxing benefit from the shower. He wasn't used to riding a horse for hours, or being so damned cold, and he was getting too old to lose an entire sleep cycle. Still, his thoughts turned to lovemaking and, as tired as he was, he was glad his wife was safe and alive and there where he could see and touch her. He sent her a signal with a naked body and a lusty kiss as he unbuttoned her flannel night shirt and pulled her on top of him.
She laughed deep in her throat in that sexy way that always made him harder. It must be a sex demon thing. "You're not tired? Or sleepy? Or sore?"
"Hey. You know a lot of women wouldn't question having a guy in their bed with a big need aimed straight at them."
"How big?" She smiled and wiggled around a little.
He chuckled. "You remind me of one of Elora's stories. 'Not too big. Not too small. But just right'."
Litha's eyes turned dark. Or was that green? "Elora tells you stories about penis sizes?"
Storm laughed. "No. About bears. I'm the one trying to get you interested in a story about penises."
"Oh I'm interested. At least in the one. As in singular."
"That's the way I like it."
"Uh huh. Uh huh."
"You've been spending too much time with Katrina and her disco music."
Litha laughed. "Uh huh. Uh huh."
It was too cold in the room to sit up and ride him with abandon. Giving up the covers was too big a price to pay even for sex with Storm. So she spread her legs a little farther and eased down, letting him fill her slowly. Storm groaned at the incomparable pleasure of having his cock so sweetly and effortlessly embedded in hot, tight witch. Delicious. Delectable. Perfect.
She moved up and back, leaving enough space between their bodies so that her breasts dragged against Storm's bare torso, creating their own delightful kind of silken friction. He couldn't decide which he loved more, the raw animalism of the push that covered him to the hilt, or the retreat that created the kind of suction that made his eyes threaten to turn back into his head.
As Litha settled into a rhythmic pace, his big hands moved from her thighs to her waist, over her back, and finally between them to coax her pleasure zone into a frenzy. The leisurely ride went frantic fast as Storm teased the swollen bud. He watched her lips part, her eyes go closed. When he knew her climax was close and inevitable, he covered her buttocks with two big hands and forced her to slide back and forth faster so they would come together. At the last second, she took his earlobe lightly between her teeth and growled. It made him shout something unintelligible about gods and almightiness and shoot deep into her in the most satisfying way.
Litha let her full weight down on the hard body underneath her and rested her cheek on his chest where she could hear and feel his heart beat. She was clearly happy to stay that way. As was he. Storm put his arms around her waist and let out a deep sigh of contentment.
When he had climbed into bed, he hadn't thought he had the energy to say goodnight. He couldn't have guessed that he would end the past day's ordeal with a new sex position high up on his list of favorites. To be sure, Litha was one of a kind. And she was all his.
"Are you worried about tomorrow?" she asked.
"Not a bit. And you shouldn't be either. It's safer than a training exercise."
There was silence between them for a few moments. "When I got to the rescue site?"
"Yeah?"
"You looked so comfortable with the baby."
He smiled. "I know. Life is strange, right? I can't explain how that feels, holding somebody who's brand new and completely dependent on you. I don't know. It's just not like anything else."
"In a good way?"
"Hmmm. Maybe we should rethink waiting for a few years."
Litha raised up enough to see his face. "I'm so glad you feel that way."
"Why? Were you thinking the same thing?"
"Not exactly. I was more thinking, 'Guess what?'" She brought her face up and rested her chin on her hands so she could see his face.
Storm looked confused. "Guess what?" He barely got the question out before his trademark intense gaze bored straight into her. "We aren't."
"Yeah. We are."
"I thought we were on birth control."
"We were. I guess the little demon really wants to be born."
Storm stared for a few more seconds, silently searching her face then, without warning, he laughed out loud which caused his flaccid penis to slide out of Litha's body.
"Uh. I was hoping you would stay right where you were."
"Sorry," he chuckled. She rolled off onto her side.
He was brimming with rapid fire questions and hardly paused for a breath between.
"Are you sure? Is it a boy or a girl? Not that I care. I don't. It's just that I don't know anything about girls. Have you told anybody else? You haven't told your father, have you? Do you know when? Oh. And we need to make sure it's safe for you to ride the passes because..."
"Storm." She put her forefinger across his lips lightly. "I can't remember all those questions. You're going to have to ask them one at a time. The main thing is... you're happy about this?"
Litha was treated to one of his heart-stopping, but rare grins.
"I am so happy about this." He experienced a moment of visceral memory and thought he could still feel the weight of Helm's little, trusting body sleeping on his shoulder. "So much more than I could have ever guessed. But, if it's a boy, it has to be the only one."
"Why?"
Storm was wearing his so-shall-it-be face. "No second sons." He
moved his hand under the covers until he found her bare belly, put his palm flat against her then smiled. "If it's a girl..."
"We're not naming her Elora."
"Damn. That's what I was going to say. Can we talk about it?"
Litha pulled back far enough to see the teasing gleam in his eye. He was so relaxed and happy he didn't notice her reaching for the corner of the pillow until it smacked him full in the face. Gods Almighty. A Black Swan knight shouldn't have to be on guard in his own bed.
After a very brief struggle, he pinned her underneath him and blew softly into her ear, a ploy that never failed to produce a special moan and an arch into his body. "Don't be jealous of her, mi esposa. You're the one that I love." Litha melted like chocolate over flame when he talked to her like that. Storm shifted to the side quickly and looked concerned.
"What is it?"
"I just replayed what you said: little demon. Were you using that phrase in the spirit of 'little rug rat' or are you saying we're parenting a demon?"
Litha searched his eyes. "Don't tell me you never thought about the fact that our children will be more demon than human. You're half. I'm... of indeterminate proportion, but we know it's something more than half. When I do that math..."
"Okay. Point taken. It gives demon seed jokes a whole new perspective. I guess I hadn't thought about it. And I guess we should expect some parenting challenges?"
"Well, let's just say that he or she is probably not going to public high school, i.e. Carrie." His expression turned from playfulness to intense. "Uh oh. Here comes the 'Storm cloud'. What's the problem?"
"You're scaring me now."
"It was a joke."
"It wasn't funny."
Litha laughed in his face. "It was hysterical. You're just a tough room. Alright, then. We'll take it as it comes. But we're still not naming her Elora."
"You think it's a girl."
"Not saying."
"Shit."
"Good night." She rolled over. "And go to sleep. You've got a vampire reckoning early in the morning."
It was quiet for a few seconds. "What time will you have my breakfast ready?"
That time he caught the pillow well before it smashed into his nose.
Heaven went to her room, took a warm bath, put on pajamas, got in bed, and began a ceiling-staring vigil. Now that the decision had been made that she was going to play, she was imagining that she could hear the flute singing to her from underneath the bed. She tossed and turned for a couple of hours, but finally gave up and got up.
When Heaven had moved to Edinburgh Headquarters she'd brought her stuff in a set of nested luggage. After they were unpacked, she put each size back inside the other like one of those Russian doll sets. It was a marvelous trick of storage genius.
On hands and knees she reached behind the bed skirt and pulled the luggage out from under her bed. Sitting on the floor, she unzipped each bag in turn until she came to the smallest, which was inside three others. Buried under a cache of woolens that were out of style was a handcrafted wooden box with rounded, carved corners and inlaid rosewood. She had always felt that even the box itself was somehow magical.
The inside was lined with plush, black velvet treated to keep the silver polished and free of build up. Inside the lid the master craftsman had placed a tiny brass plaque that said Breandan O'Hare, Belfast.
Opening the lid made her breathing stop. She'd forgotten how beautiful it was. As a child she had thought so, but, as an adult, she had a far greater capacity for appreciating its precious and unique qualities. All these years she had carried it around like it was part of her soul that had accidentally escaped her body and been trapped on the outside. She took it with her whenever she moved, but never gave herself permission to even look at it. Touching, of course, was out of the question. She knew that, if she touched it, she would want to play in the worst way.
When her fingertips first came in contact with the cool, smooth metal, her eyes slid closed in a rapture that was all her own. It was a communion that was unique to her in all the world, as if she'd been reunited with that piece of her wayward spirit that had been a vacuum inside her, always gnawing to be filled.
Right then, she was thinking that the prudent thing would have been to test the soundness of February's research before involving the entire Headquarters staff. Too late for that. As the gamblers say, it was go for broke.
Carefully, lovingly, she put the pieces together and held the instrument up to her lips without blowing. It felt as familiar as one of her flesh and blood appendages. She hadn't played in well over a decade and yet she knew, without a doubt, that she could and would, when the time was right.
What she didn't know was how to "think" about what she wanted to summon. She hoped it would come to her the way playing the flute had come to her. If not, a whole lot of people, including the fucking prince of all bloody Scotia, were going to be standing there looking at her like they wished they had slept in.
Heavenly Days. You've really made it up now.
She glanced at the clock. It was a quarter past two. Tossing the portaputer on top of her bed, she fired it up and checked to see what the weather would be like at 0800. Six Celsius, cloudy with a good chance of drizzle. She needed to keep the flute warm until it was time to play. The practical solution seemed to be putting it together, then carrying it next to her first layer, underneath a sweater and rain coat. She also needed her hands warm and dry.
Pushing the device aside, she pulled together the clothes she would need, and set them on the bed. After she zipped the thinsulate lining into her rain coat, she sat on the edge of the bed looking at the clock. Her thoughts drifted to Baka. She wondered if he was cold.
0600
Everyone crowded into the Director's outer office. Simon and Storm gave last minute instructions about who would do what and when: things such as, there was no need for transportation as it was only a seven minute walk. That was followed by a simple either or addendum. If you understand, go get breakfast and be in the foyer at 0730. If you have a question, stay after and ask Simon, Storm, or Glen.
When Finnemore arrived for breakfast, Katrina gave Kay a pat and said she was going to sit with Litha, Aelsong, and Heaven.
When Storm arrived, he went straight to Litha, leaned down, kissed his wife, casually took from her hand a fork with a large strawberry caught on the tines and popped it into his mouth smiling.
"You're going to have to stay back from this operation, Storm. You're clearly too anxious to be of any use."
He laughed while finishing off her strawberry. "So what are you doing after breakfast?"
"We're going to see Lady Laiken and the beautiful baby boy."
"Okay. This won't take long, but, if all goes according to plan, we may be bringing company home for dinner. If you take my meaning."
"You mean you're not sure when I'll see you next."
"That's my bottom line, babe."
"Okay. I may take some plastic and go for a ride. If you take my meaning."
He leaned down and said right next to her ear. "Please don't ride the passes until you know for sure it's safe for the baby."
She snorted quietly enough that only he heard her right before she stood and pulled him a short distance from the others. "You worry like an old woman, Sir Big Brave Knight. You do know the two of us already made several trips safely. Since she's more demon than either of us, she's probably very much at home in the passes."
"She?"
"Not saying."
"You're gonna make me say please, aren't you?"
Her response was a smile so wicked that she looked like she could be the popular notion of what a sex demon might look like. He put his lips right next to her ear and nuzzled as he breathed warm air on her and whispered low in his throat.
"Okay. I'm begging you. Begging..."
Litha pushed him away giggling, wondering if she should cast a spell to make herself less vulnerable to that breath-in-the-ear thing. He was getting far, far to
o good at it.
"You do know you have a room upstairs, right?" Aelsong raised her voice, but wasn't serious. Just amused. She hadn't even known Storm was capable of being playful, much less romantically playful. Life is full of surprises.
Litha smiled at Song before turning back to Storm. "One. I'll discuss it with my dad before I go. Two. You sure are bossy."
He looked around to make sure he could get away with a quick fondling of the derriere without anyone seeing and made her squeal as a parting shot. The memory of that squeal would be a hundred times more satisfying than Irish oatmeal. It would keep him going all day long and give him a smile whenever he thought about it.
Glen knocked lightly on Elora's door before opening it a crack. Blackie, who was lying on his side on a pallet by the wall, thumped his thick tail in welcome, but didn't move to get up. The clinic staff had been hot as Hades about having a 'nasty' dog in their sterile premises, but, if the Laiken-Hawkings were formidable as individuals, they were a force of nature when united in a cause. If they wanted the dog there, the dog would be there. By all the gods and Paddy, too.
They were not unreasonable elves. They simply knew what they wanted and insisted on it.
Ram was just finishing breakfast in Elora's room. As he motioned Glen inside, Elora looked over and smiled. "Hey Einstein."
Glen grinned at her.
"Heard Simon gave you a big boy job."
He ducked his head like he was embarrassed.
"I'm so proud of you."
"Yeah. Well, I'm glad you're alive and, after what I saw out there, a little amazed, too. When you're stronger, I'd like to talk to you about what happened with the wolves."
Elora grew instantly sad and teary eyed. "It was wrong to just leave their bodies lying out there exposed like that." She grew more upset as she talked. "They died because I was there and then we just flew away without so much as a here's-a-bone-and-thanks-a-lot."
Ram stood up and came to the side of her bed. "We have somethin' to sort out this mornin', but, when done, the lad and I will return to the Forest and take care of it." He looked at Glen. "Will we no'?"
A Summoner's Tale - The Vampire's Confessor (Black Swan 3) Page 26