Raven Mask

by Winter Pennington

  “Oh, yes. I’m still trying to figure out all of those plans.”

  She pulled me suddenly against her, and my thigh slid easily between her legs. “This,” she said, “was my plan.”

  “Not a bad one.”

  “I do not think so.” Her voice was as smooth and rich as velvet. “Kassandra, you may find yourself physically attracted to other women. So long as I am the keeper of your heart, I am satisfied.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t get that.”

  The look she gave me told me she’d seen much more of life than I had in my twenty-six years. “How many women have you slept with?”

  “That’s the worst question to ask your lover.”

  “But you will answer honestly, won’t you?”

  “You really want to know?”

  “I asked, did I not?”

  I had to think about it, to make sure I wasn’t pushing anyone out of mind. I’d forced myself to forget some of them. “Five.”

  “You had only been with three women before Rosalin and me?”

  I nodded. “All of which were long-term relationships, or at least I thought they were at the time.”

  “How many women have you kissed?”

  “More than five.”

  “Do you see now how I know your loyalty will not falter?”

  I shook my head.

  “You admitted you were attracted to Eris, but it is as you told her. You are not a casual person. What happened with Rosalin was because you are not used to controlling your wolf on a sexual level. I would not feel threatened by Eris if you grew a fondness for her...” She shrugged. “I still do not believe I would feel threatened. Intrigued, mayhap. I have seen the way she calls to you.”

  “Are you saying Eris is fair game?” I was confused.

  “No.” She swept back the long onyx curls of her hair. “I am saying if something happens between the two of you I will deal with it when and if it happens. I am telling you that so long as you are honest with me I will not get angry.”

  “I would.”

  “If a woman threatens to take more of your heart than I have, if she threatens to take more of you than I have, then she will pay dearly. Does that knowledge of my emotions make you feel any better, my love?”

  “Yes, but I can think of something that would make me feel even better.”

  “What?”

  “Falling asleep in your arms.”

  Lenorre pulled me against her and I nestled my knee more deeply between her legs, resting the side of my face against the silken cloud of her curly hair. I wiggled, moving until I was able to bury my face in the bend of her neck. The warm scent she wore lulled me to sleep, but I clung to her unique, personal scent, breathing her in like the cool night air she reminded me of.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  There weren’t any lights on when I woke. Lenorre didn’t have a clock in her room, so it was impossible to tell what time it was. I crawled out on my side of the bed and flicked the switch just inside the bathroom door. My jeans were where I’d left them on the marble countertop, my cell phone still in the back pocket. I pressed the button on the side to illuminate the screen. It was twenty minutes till four. Lenorre was still awake, somewhere.

  My stomach rumbled, letting me know why I’d woken. I was hungry. I put the jeans back on the counter and snatched a dark green robe from the hook on the wall. Lenorre had enough robes to dress a small army. If it had been my apartment I would’ve walked to the kitchen wearing nothing but my undies and a T-shirt. As it was, others lived here, and I didn’t know quite a few of them. Walking around half-naked in front of strangers just isn’t my thing.

  I headed for the main room beyond the labyrinth of hallways, doing a little better at finding my way without getting lost. Every one of the many hallways in this place looked nearly identical to me. I followed a map in my head—forward, left, forward, right. Lights burned along the stone walls, making my shadow dance as I walked by. A spill of bright light at the end of the last hallway told me I’d made it to the main room all by myself. Point for me.

  I heard voices speaking softly and stopped, eavesdropping.

  “Her power is intriguing,” Eris said.

  “It is not her power that intrigues me,” Lenorre replied almost idly.

  One of them rose from her seat. “Her beauty, then?” Eris’s voice came from farther in the room.

  Lenorre laughed lightly. “It is her,” she said with emphasis. “Need there be any more reason than that? You are drawn to her for your own reasons. Must I explain my reasons to you? Perhaps you should be searching the depths of your own feelings instead of trying to penetrate mine, Eris. Why are you drawn to Kassandra?”

  I leaned against the wall, listening, trying not to make any noise. Which was hard to do, since vampires hear as well as any lycanthrope. I didn’t want to participate in the conversation, but I was curious as to what they were saying about me.

  After a long moment of silence Eris responded. “I do not know.” Her tone was thoughtful. “She is a complex and passionate creature, unlike the women that fall at my feet begging for a nightly embrace.”

  I didn’t know how I felt about being called a creature.

  “Kassandra would not throw herself at anyone’s feet.” Lenorre sounded mildly amused. “Unless it is what she desired.”

  “I have noticed. She’s quite capable of taking care of herself, isn’t she?”

  “Yes. Dare I say,” Lenorre put a little faux-awe in her tone, “that you have gained a certain amount of respect for the woman you once deemed my pet?”

  Eris laughed then. “I was wrong. Has Rosalin told you her news?” She changed the subject so abruptly they almost lost me.

  “That Kassandra has claimed her as one of her wolves?”

  “Yes.”

  “Rosalin informed me some hours ago.”

  “I think your wolf is blossoming.”

  “I believe you are correct.”

  “She has the mark of an alpha,” Eris said. “Is she aware of such?”

  “Yes.”

  “And?”

  Lenorre didn’t respond and I wondered if she shrugged.

  Lukas Morris had told me the white in my hair was the mark of an alpha because it was the same color as my fur. Of course, he’d told me that before I’d littered his chest with silver bullets. But Lukas hadn’t been the first to say that.

  “How do you think Sheila will react to this news?”

  “She will view it as a threat to her control over the pack and a personal challenge.”

  My stomach chose that moment to rumble, and the room beyond fell silent. I mentally cursed it.

  “Kassandra, you may come out now. You were more than welcome to interrupt the conversation at any moment, but it seems your stomach has decided to accomplish the task for you.” Lenorre’s voice carried throughout the room.

  I stepped around the corner. “You knew I was listening?”

  Eris’s brows rose an inch. “I do now.” She turned to look at Lenorre.

  The smile Lenorre gave her was devastatingly impish. It suited her, making her storm-cloud eyes sparkle mischievously.

  “How much of our conversation did you overhear?” Eris asked.

  “You have no idea why you’re attracted to me and Sheila will throw a hissy once she finds out I’ve claimed Rosalin. Right?”

  “I’m not fond of being spied upon.”

  “Get used to it,” I said, “because if you’re talking about me and I’m within hearing distance I’m going to spy.” I clutched the robe around me, finally summoning the will to walk into the room. “By the way, I have no idea why you’re attracted to me either. Unless you’re just into difficult women and I’m the first one that won’t throw herself at your feet.” I wasn’t sure where the snide comment came from. I couldn’t hide the resentment in my voice. I wasn’t entirely sure where it came from either.

  Eris’s beautiful features were empty of any reaction, like she’d thrown on an
impenetrable mask. I’d worn that expression before and seen it on other cops. It was a way of hiding. She didn’t want me to know what she was feeling or what she was thinking. I was fine with that.

  My stomach ruined the moment again, grumbling loudly. If I didn’t eat soon, I’d get a stomachache.

  “Come.” Lenorre stood and offered her hand to me. “We will find something for you to eat.”

  “Thank you. That would be nice.”

  *

  I had thought the hallway led to more rooms, but I was wrong. Lenorre showed me to an underground kitchen, and though it was small, the dining room connected to it was vast. A long wooden table with intricately carved chairs sat in the middle of the room, with a candelabra chandelier over it. The table could’ve easily seated twenty people. Lenorre struck a match and lit three long red taper candles set in a candelabrum that was placed at the middle of the table, not bothering with the ornate chandelier. The walls of the room were almost a peach color, but too light to be peach and too bold to be beige.

  I ended up eating a bowl of fruity cereal, sitting across from Lenorre and trying to ignore her watching me.

  She finally broke the silence. “Did our conversation bother you?”

  I finished the last of the cereal. “I don’t know. It made me a little uncomfortable.”

  “Why?”

  “Why were you talking about me in the first place?”

  “Eris was trying to figure herself out through me.”

  “How does that work?”

  “She apparently believed if she could pinpoint my attraction to you, it would explain her own.”

  “But it won’t.”

  She gave a half nod. “Correct, and I believe there was more truth to your retaliation than you knew.”

  I shrugged. “I’m getting used to women being attracted to me because I’m either something to conquer, someone to play with, or someone to use for their own benefit.”

  “Your past?” Lenorre asked in a gentle tone.

  “Yeah. Rearing its hideous head.”

  She seemed to understand. Lenorre didn’t ask me about my past and I was grateful. She didn’t expect me to rip my heart open and spill its contents on the table between us. I’d learned some lessons, and several had been harsh. I remembered those especially, but even when I looked back over the pages of my history I had tender moments, though those often hurt the most. The sweetest memories have a way of reminding us that not everything is absolutely bad or absolutely good.

  I’d tried to run from love, but one way or another, love always catches a person off guard.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked, without seeming to pry. She had too much grace and elegance. She would ask a question when curious about something, but was as unobtrusive as possible.

  “That everything happens for a reason,” I said, “and that nothing in life is set in stone.”

  Lenorre smiled rather melancholically. “Love is stronger than stone.”

  I sighed. “I’ll agree it’s a very strong force, but it’s still capable of dying.”

  “Think of love as a garden,” she said thoughtfully. “Everyone knows if you do not tend to it, it will not grow. But in order to have a truly beautiful garden one must pull the weeds.”

  I laughed. “Are you comparing my past relationships to weeds?”

  The corner of her mouth twitched. “I might be. Does the thought amuse you?”

  “Yes, and strangely, it makes sense.”

  Lenorre bowed her head. The long curls of her hair framed her porcelain face like some mythological painting of a dark Goddess. Her startling eyes met mine in a way that made the breath catch in my throat. The candlelight reflected off her pale features, and she tilted her head slightly to one side. “Does it?”

  My pulse quickened, thudding against my ribs.

  “Yes,” I said, mouth inexplicably dry. I blinked and her chair was suddenly empty. Arms wrapped around me from behind.

  Her breath was hot against my ear. “Truly?”

  I flinched, making one of those girlish sounds. I tried to get out of the chair but Lenorre pinned my wrists to the wooden arms with supernatural quickness and held me prisoner. I tried to turn to look at her, to see what expression she wore, but her face was too close.

  “Lenorre?”

  She knocked the chair out from under me, using her grip on my wrists to swing my body around in a graceful motion. I tried to catch my balance, nearly losing my footing before she picked me up and set me on the table. She grabbed the sash on the robe, jerking the tie loose. I made another startled sound, but this time it wasn’t girlish. Somewhere inside me the wolf’s eager anticipation was adding fuel to my leaping pulse.

  “Yes, Kassandra?” She spread my legs with her hands.

  “You didn’t throw me near one of the candles, did you?”

  She grinned, flashing petite fangs. “Now,” she murmured, “would I do such a thing?”

  Lenorre moved too quickly for me to form a response. She put a hand on my chest and pushed me backward on the table. I obeyed as her hand caressed down my body, her fingertips sliding beneath the band of my underwear. I heard the bowl of milk tip over and crash to the floor, then drip in a steady stream over the edge of the table.

  She drew the underwear down my legs in a sensual glide, baring the most intimate part of my body to the warm candlelit room.

  “Remove the shirt.” Lenorre spoke in a silken voice from where she stood between my legs. I could feel the smooth finish of the wooden table against the back of my knees, where my legs draped over the edge. “You may keep the robe.” Her hands swept across my thighs, making my body ache with desire. Her voice dropped into a breathy whisper. “I want to watch the candlelight dance across your breasts.”

  Her demand made a shiver run through the lower part of my body. I did what she asked. If she had told me to ditch the robe, I would’ve done that too, albeit against all of my modesty. I sat up, shrugging out of the hunter green material, letting it slide down my arms. Lenorre stepped back, watching me with eyes like storm and sea fog. The chill of her power caressed my skin, causing my nipples to harden. I crossed my arms over my chest and tossed the shirt to the dining-room floor.

  My hair was long enough to cover my breasts. Lenorre reached out, guiding the long tresses across my shoulder. I inhaled deeply. The merest brush of her fingertips caused my body to stir. The hair tickled along my skin, falling in a silken veil down my back.

  “Lie down.” The chair legs scraped against the stone floor.

  Lenorre pulled the chair to the table, looking like some dark queen upon her throne.

  “Kassandra?” she asked, and I realized that I’d been staring at her. The breath filling my lungs was shallow.

  I reclined, holding myself up on an elbow as I slipped one arm through the sleeve of the robe, then the other. It wasn’t about being covered, though the thought had crossed my mind. If we were interrupted I wanted to be able to dress quickly. I don’t believe in giving free shows, or any shows at all, for that matter. The material was undeniably soft against my skin, and the sensation of that softness was comforting. All of my senses heightened, and each touch echoed throughout my body in a wave of subtle pleasure.

  Her hands wrapped around my calves as she pulled me across the table. Startled, I managed to catch myself, keeping my gaze on her as her hands caressed the back of my thighs, stopping at my ankles. “Put your feet on the arms of the chair.”

  I braced the soles of my feet against them, and her hands wrapped around my ankles like shackles. My heart gave one startled thump that beat above the other beats as her mouth brushed the arch of my foot. Her tongue flicked out and I couldn’t decide if it tickled or felt good. I tried to draw away and her grip tightened as she held my legs in place. I was transfixed by her beauty as her mouth traced an invisible path up them.

  She watched me, sliding her hands up the back of my thighs, dangerously close to more intimate parts. A flood of warmth puls
ed between my legs.

  “Lenorre,” I breathed, tossing my head back when she cupped my ass in her pale hands. “What are you doing?”

  A breeze swept across my body, almost like a draft of air, but it wasn’t that. Her power caressed me like a lover, causing my nails to scrape loudly on the surface of the table.

  “Feasting,” she said.

  If I had thought one little brush of power was something, I had been wrong. It was only a taste, a sample of what she was capable of. Her power soared up my spine like a gasoline-soaked rope set on fire, causing my back to arch off the table. The room swam in streamers of darkness as my hips rose and fell. Her hands were suddenly on them, holding me down. Her nails dug into my skin, creating small crescent moons as she held me against the rising moon of her power, and as if her power were the moon, she called, but not to the beast. She called to my body.

  I caught a glimpse of the candlelight reflecting in her eyes in an eerily cat-like fashion before the power hit me like a wave and took me under. It tore a long moan from my mouth, brought my back off the table again. I felt her hands again, like a weight wrapped around my ankles, pinning my feet back to the chair. My entire body thrummed with energy. A flicker of fear rose in me, but her power took me under its spell again. From the tips of my fingers to the soles of my feet, heat sailed through my veins, coursing over every inch of my body, and where it touched, every muscle contracted. As if coaxed by an unseen hand, I cried out and clawed the air, searching for something to grab on to, for something to tear in the moment of passion’s chaos.

  The table was cool against the side of my face. My breath came too quick and too deep, and my vision was blurry with the aftermath of orgasm. I wiped the sweat away from my forehead and drew in a deep, slow breath, trying to teach my lungs how to work again, trying to remember I had a body. I turned my head enough to see Lenorre lounging in the chair, watching me with a dark, triumphant expression.

  I tried to speak, and my mouth was so dry I had to swallow. “Did you…” I breathed. “Did you just mind-fuck me?”