Savage Legacy

by Lora Leigh

  Like a fairy, an elemental ballerina, she danced with the wind and in all her glory became the warrior that only the Earth Mother could have envisioned.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Woman! You are insane…”

  When the battle was done, death and carnage from the enraged warriors and the forces of the Earth lay around them as they fought for breath and stared back at Ariel.

  She was like a luminous light, smiling in excitement, her amethyst eyes shining with power as she slid her sword and dagger quickly into their sheaths with a twist of her wrists.

  “My God! That was so incredible.” She was almost bouncing with energy as she stared at the slowly disintegrating bodies of the enemy. “How the hell do they do that? Just go away?”

  Within minutes the soft breeze dispersed the dark, powdery remnants.

  “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” Chantel said sadly as the last body disappeared. “The Guardians managed to steal the blaster, Devlin.” She nodded to where the weapon had sat.

  Like the bodies, it was gone as well, but there was no ash or dust to mark its passing. Only a charring of the floor where it had once sat.

  “Not that Ariel left much of it,” Joshua growled as he stalked over to the window, his long, black hair whipping around his body. “How do you control the lightning as well? Only the Mistress of Fire was said to know that secret.”

  Shane heard the anger pulsing just under his voice, dark and deadly as he stared back at Ariel. He could see the fury that beat in the air around the other man, a threat, a danger to whoever had caused it.

  Ariel laughed, a low, sarcastic sound that had Joshua’s shoulders tensing.

  “I controlled the wind, nothing more, big boy. Anything else that joined in wasn’t of my doing.”

  He watched her head tilt as though to catch the slight sound on the breeze. For a moment, just a moment, he sensed that sound. A voice thick with pain, filled with warning.

  Shane moved to Ariel then, desperate to touch her now, to make certain no harm had befallen her.

  “Did you see me?” She nearly jumped in his arms, surprising him as he caught her, pulling her against his body as her knees gripped his hips, her hands on his shoulders, her head tipped back as excitement spilled over from her. “Did you see me, Shane? I wasn’t crazy. They did what I told them to do. They destroyed my enemy. They did it.”

  She was burning bright and hot. He could feel it inside her. The clash of who she had been and who she was now. It merged in her eyes, shadows of knowledge, but not clear memory, and he thanked God for that.

  He couldn’t answer her. The emotion sweeping through him then was too intense, too filled with needs and desires he had never known. He had not seen Ariel fight like that, even when her own life had been lost. Twisting, gliding, her eyes shining with triumph, her light body moving like an avenging goddess as she covered his back, her sword slicing through the enemy with no hesitation.

  “Woman! You will make me insane…” he growled a second before his lips covered hers, his hands holding her hips in place as he pushed her against the wall behind her, devouring her.

  He couldn’t taste her enough. Couldn’t get close enough. Couldn’t find a way to assure himself that she did indeed live. But she moved against him. A moan vibrated in her throat, her breasts pressed against his chest and her hands gripped his hair to pull him closer, deeper.

  His cock was a swollen ache of hunger as he pressed against her hot pussy. He was dying for her. Aching for her. And he had no time now to take her.

  Gripping her hair, he pulled her head back, seeing the flare of excitement that the little pain caused her.

  “You are mine!” he snarled in her face, watching her eyes narrow.

  She jerked at his hold, nipping his kiss-swollen lips with a fiery caress. Adrenaline still pumped through her body. Lust, fiery hot, fueled by her triumph and her need for his touch had her giving in to the desires that pulsed just under her flesh. The desire to tempt, to tease, to test out her newly found sensuality on the man who had awakened it.

  “Prove it,” she dared him with a throaty murmur that had his teeth clenching against the lust rising within him.

  Aye, he would prove it, he promised himself. The next time he had her naked and slick beneath him he would make certain he proved it. Jonar had best have a weapon more effective than an energy canon the next time he attacked.

  “Kanna has the van packed, Shane,” Devlin called from the darkness then. “We ride. We can’t stay here.”

  He tensed, breathing harshly, everything inside him clamoring at him to take her now. To sink his erection into the tight, wet grip of her hot cunt. To lose himself in her heat and the power he could feel swirling around them.

  “Soon,” he rasped, his lips curling back from his teeth in feral promise. “Soon, Ariel.”

  He released her slowly, feeling her slump against him for the smallest second before she straightened. And to his shocked horror, his once very circumspect wife lowered her hand, cupping the heavy weight of his scrotum within it before pursing her lips slowly in a silent kiss.

  “I can’t wait.” Her throaty little growl spiked his lust and frayed his control.

  Had she not released him when she did, moving away slowly, brushing her swollen breasts against his arm, he feared what he might have done. No matter who was watching.

  Let me hide, Ariel… Don’t let him weaken me again…

  The words drifted over her as sleep would have claimed her. Hugging close to Shane’s back, a leather jacket dwarfing her body, the motorcycle throbbing beneath her as they sped through the night, she let the voices come to her.

  It was raining, and Ariel considered riding in the rain the height of stupidity, but she knew distance needed to be placed between them and where they had been. Besides, it was the strangest rain she had ever known.

  She wasn’t wet as she knew she should have been. Insulated, somehow protected from the wet drops, she wasn’t protected from the sound of it falling around her and the whisper of tears in the sound.

  Whose voice was she hearing? Drifting between sleep and reality, she reached out with her senses, looking for the source of the sound.

  He will destroy me…

  Sadness filled her soul as tears whispered around her.

  Turn back, Ariel… Make them turn back…

  She opened her eyes then, seeing the man who rode at their side, wet, rain drifting like tears down a haggard face and the pain of it engulfed her.

  Derek didn’t look at her, seemed unaware that she watched him. He lifted a weary hand from the handlebars of the motorcycle and wiped his face tiredly. His expression was stoic in the reflective glow of the gauge lights.

  “See him.” She surprised herself at the whisper, and Shane as well if the tensing of his body was anything to go by. “He sheds tears as well.”

  A wizard’s tears, the voice scoffed, though she heard the fear beneath it. An illusion for all to see, for trapped inside the stone of his land, did he hide his tears of shame. The Wizard knows no tears… The voice faded away as Derek moved ahead of them, alone, swallowed by the dark landscape, the rain as tears on his face. An illusion…

  “Shane?”

  “You should rest, love,” his voice answered through the link. “We’ll ride ‘til daylight and rest ‘til the next morning. But you need to rest now as well.”

  “Do you know anything about him?” she whispered. “The Wizard.”

  Shane sighed. “I know much of him, Ariel. I know him to be an honorable warrior, a fine man, and a true brother. But I know not the man who played the role of Caitlin’s husband. As I told you, those were dark years; years that even now can strike at us with the sharpest fangs are we not careful. Only Caitlin knew that man.”

  And if Ariel wasn’t mistaken, whoever Caitlin was, she would destroy him…

  Chapter Sixteen

  The motel they arrived at that night was right next to a tattoo shop and a honky-tonk. At first
, Ariel paid little attention to the Harleys parked outside the large building. She heard the music, loud and pulsing, the roar of the engines and the sounds of laughter but she paid little attention to it.

  Once inside, after dinner and a shower, she sat on the bed, her head tilted, hearing the whispers of information that came to her. The raucous glee, innuendoes and liquor-slurred voices.

  She had never gone to a bar. She had rarely drunk a beer, let alone liquor. She knew her father had people watching her often and had refused to take many chances with her freedom. Now, as she listened, her eyes closed, it was almost as though she heard something else.

  A different kind of music, freer, filled with joy. The voices rougher, the clang of swords, the neighing of horses. When the memory washed through her mind, it wasn’t a hard slam or a slap into her brain. It was a gentle, sneaky wave that took long minutes before her eyes flew open in surprise, her gaze finding Shane as he watched her from the end of the bed.

  “There was a bar,” she whispered. “In France. I know it was in France. A dirty little bar…” A smile spread across her face. “We went in for a drink and dinner, the others were too tired, they were bedding down in the stables.” She tilted her head, the details slowly coming together in her mind as soft laughter filled her voice. “We got into a fight, didn’t we?”

  Shane snorted, though she read his delight in his eyes. “You started that damned fight, woman.”

  She smiled slowly. “He was a bear of a man. A loud-mouthed bastard who thought I should be under him rather than beside you…”

  She chuckled, closing her eyes, remembering the brash, piggish prig who had come up to them.

  “I knocked him out.”

  “He was an influential member of the town.” He was chuckling as well. “Several of his guards were there as well.”

  Bittersweet joy filled her as her eyes opened once again.

  “I’m not crazy, am I, Shane?” she whispered. “It’s real. Truly real?”

  He knelt on the floor in front of her, his hand, so large and strong rising to cup her cheek as he stared into her eyes.

  “I have lived, Ariel, for one thousand years. In France, we inhabit a castle from the first century, and there you will find artifacts preserved through the ages, as beautiful now as they were then. Objects that you found great joy in during that time of darkness and of war. And you, my love, were the greatest warrior to ever strap a sword to your hips. Your eyes were brighter, your joy like a flame when you fought by my side. No, dearest heart, madness is not a part of your mind. Truth. Honor. Courage. Those are all a part of you. But never madness.”

  God, she could remember him. Remember. Not just sense the truth, but she saw him in her mind’s eyes, a memory as clear as those she had of yesterday. Dressed in leather and furs, his hair longer, his eyes gleaming as he laughed while she fought.

  He had toasted her with a mug of ale as she struggled with one of the guards. Drained the mug then used it to brain the man.

  She should be terrified, she thought. She should be screaming, disbelieving, she should be checking herself into the nearest institution. Instead, she stared back at him, wonder filling her.

  “I want a tattoo,” she said then, something inside her exploding with joy. She wasn’t crazy. There was nothing wrong with her.

  His eyes widened though laughter gleamed in the mercury depths.

  “You want a what?”

  “A tattoo.” She grinned. “Of this.” She reached out, her fingers gripping one of the runes he wore about his neck. “I want it, on my shoulder. The other…on yours…” She smiled as something inside her shifted into a joy she couldn’t explain.

  His head lowered. The runes lay in her hand. Strength for her shoulder, protection for his.

  He looked up at her once again. “You’re certain?” he asked her then. “Runes are not to be taken lightly, beloved. It will tie you to me for all time.”

  Her other hand slid from his shoulder to the strong column of his neck.

  “I thought I was already.” She knew she was. There was no question of it.

  “Aye,” he smiled back at her slowly. “You always have been, and you always will be.”

  “There was a tattoo parlor beside that bar,” she reminded him. “It was open. I saw the sign.”

  He cast her a knowing glance. “Devlin will have our heads for this, Ariel.”

  “Do you care?” She could feel the excitement rushing through her.

  For years she had restrained herself, pushing back the least hint of impulsiveness, hiding the need inside her to have fun, to make waves. She had hid from herself, and she was only now beginning to realize that.

  “Did I ever?” His lips quirked in amusement. “I think we could sneak away for a bit. It’s been a long time since I’ve experienced your brand of trouble, woman. And I must admit I’ve missed it nearly as much as I missed you.”

  There were so many emotions she heard in his voice then. Pride. Tenderness. Caring.

  “Was I a good person, Shane?” She couldn’t stop the question that whispered from her lips. Despite the returning memories, she still feared so many mistakes at that time. “Did I make you happy?”

  She hoped she had.

  He ducked his head for a moment. A strong, brave man. One who towered head and shoulders above others, whose strength was unrivaled by any. When he lifted it again, his expression was tender, his gaze soft with memories.

  “You made me very happy, Ariel,” he told her then. “So happy, that in a thousand years, I could not forget you or your unique touch. There has never been another for me. And there never will be.”

  She leaned forward and touched his lips with hers, staring into his eyes as she let a smile curve her own.

  “Let’s go play,” she whispered.

  He grunted, but caught her lips in a quick kiss even as his eyes flared with hotter passion.

  “Come then.” He jumped to his feet, tugging her along with him. “We’ll go play.”

  She thought getting the tattoo was a weird experience. The tattoo artist looked like a stalker reject, with a beard nearly to his oversized belly and more decorations on his bare chest and arms than she had thought a man could have.

  His needles were clean though, as were his hands. The gloves he used were an added protection that assured her that he might even know what he was doing. She was in the mood to be adventurous, but not infected.

  Shane went first. He bared his incredibly muscular shoulder, snickering when the artist bitched and moaned about the toughness of his flesh. But the rune design went on without too much difficulty, and she had to say, it looked incredibly sexy on him.

  She sat down next, pulling the slender strap of her shirt down her arm and baring hers then. She almost flinched at the first prick of the needle, and though it burned like hell for a minute, she felt a glowing excitement infuse her. Shane carried her mark now. That of protection. The winds would always wrap around him, protect him for her. And his symbol of strength would now grace her body as well, giving her a measure of his unique abilities too.

  How she knew they would now share this bond as well, she wasn’t certain. Like the memory before, it just flowed over her, through her, became a part of her. It was a whisper in the air around her, a glowing warmth that invaded her soul.

  She glanced at him with a smug smile when the artist finished, flashing him a teasing, sex-filled smile that she knew would make him hard. Make him want her. And she succeeded.

  “You two be careful if you’re headed to the bar tonight,” the artist warned them as he turned his back to them, cleaning his instruments. “We’ve had a different crowd in lately. They’ve been causing some trouble. Mean bastards.”

  “How so?” She heard the casual inquiry, almost innocent voice that Shane made.

  Uh-oh, she knew that voice. Her eyes narrowed on him.

  His gaze had sharpened with a flare of danger, or excitement. As though he was looking forward to whatever dange
r presented itself.

  “Just different,” the artist shrugged his wide shoulders as he turned back to them. “Usually, we don’t have much trouble here, but this new crew that rode in makes a mockery of any we had before. Two of our girls were almost killed the other night.” He cast Ariel a warning glance. “I’d hate to see yours get hurt. I’d just go back to the motel and hope they don’t cause too much ruckus if I were you.”

  Shane flexed his sword arm. He wasn’t wearing his sword, but she had a feeling that wouldn’t matter.

  “You know, there was once a time when such trash was easily dealt with,” he sighed in regret for those bygone days. “Now, we must be politically correct and pretend to be the little pussies this world would make of us. No offense intended, beloved.” He flashed her an endearing smile. “While disease such as your new crowd sneaks through the night and destroys all we are sacrificing our manhood for.”

  “None taken,” she choked back her laughter. “But I haven’t seen you sacrificing any of your manhood lately.”

  “Only to you, Precious.” His teeth flashed wickedly. “But I will regain it here in just a bit. I promise you this.”

  The tattoo artist chuckled roughly. “She looks worth sacrificing to,” he said, though without offense, his hazel eyes admiring. “Keep her away from that bar, though. Or she may not be come morning.”

  Shane frowned, clearly insulted by this.

  “I can protect my woman should there be a need.” Shane frowned fiercely at the other man.

  The tattoo artist tilted his graying head, his eyes sharper now, having picked on something in the way Shane spoke or perhaps the confidence in his voice.

  “They own the cops,” he warned them then. “It could be more trouble than you want.”

  Shane shrugged. “Some men don’t always remember so well. They will have to remember us to describe us.”

  Surprise crossed the other man’s features.