by Lora Leigh
Chapter Twenty
The merging of two lifetimes inside her head wasn’t a comfortable feeling, Ariel thought the next afternoon as they continued their ride toward their destination.
The winds whipped around her unhelmeted head, filled with so many voices as memories began to slowly emerge from that dark well in her mind that she had always known existed.
It wasn’t déjà vu, it wasn’t visions or dreams, it was memories slowly unfurling within her mind.
My warrioress… Shane’s voice, filled with devotion.
That emotion in his voice struck her. Deep inside a hidden part of her soul, she could feel it burning her alive. He had always spoken to her in such a way, a way no other ever had. His rough voice holding a hard, masculine rasp, deeper than normal, his gray eyes swirling with an emotion that had always made her heart swell.
Woman, your courage often outdistances what little common sense Mother Earth selfishly bestowed on you! He had been enraged when she had slipped from him that night, taking vengeance for a young woman who had been mercilessly raped. She had shown the attackers the same coin in mercy, rendering one incapable of ever raping another woman.
But she had seen the pride warring with the fear in his eyes when he came upon her, breathing heavily, wounded herself. He had carried her to their camp, bathed her with gentle hands, and held her through the night as he whispered his fears of ever losing her.
I have never known such love, my heart, he had whispered in her ear. It fills my soul and leaves my insides shaking with fear at the thought of ever losing you. What, Ariel, would I do without you to warm my soul?
That word again, love. And she had responded. She remembered responding, and though she didn’t remember the words, she remembered the happiness that consumed her, that filled her with joy each time he said it.
She sensed her emotions from that earlier time. Her shock that he could say such words to her. Her knowledge that somehow she was scarred, broken inside, but she knew Shane had healed the pain of it. Somehow, he had done the impossible, and made her believe in him. How had he done that?
They were disjointed, those memories, and she knew something important, something tragic was missing from them. But she drew strength from them. Drew comfort from them.
The few memories she had of their passion left her confused, though. Shane, touching her with the utmost gentleness, as though determined to cause her no fear, no excessive pleasure such as he had shown her the night before. And Ariel knew she had hidden a part of herself from him as well, though she wasn’t certain why.
“Stop thinking so much, Ariel,” his voice came through the comm link she wore at her ear as they passed the third state police cruiser in an hour.
The patrol officer didn’t even glance at them and Ariel knew they were exceeding any speed limit allowable on the powerful cycles.
“We’re going to get a ticket,” she informed him darkly, ignoring the softly voiced order he had given her.
“As far as that officer is concerned, we’re doing the speed limit.” He shook his head in denial, his body tense.
He had been tense all morning. Hell, it had begun last night.
“Nice trick,” she drawled. “How did you manage it?”
Her hands smoothed down his back as she leaned into the padded rest behind her. She was tired of him ignoring her. Tired of his dark silence that morning. He had barely spoken to her through breakfast, and had said little on the ride.
“I don’t manage it.” He sounded as though he were speaking through gritted teeth. “That is Derek’s job.”
“And what’s your job?” she asked him curiously, her hands tugging at the material of the soft cotton shirt he had tucked into his leather breeches that morning.
“Keeping you out of trouble?” There was just an edge of mockery to his voice.
She chuckled at that. “Did Devlin rip your ass for the fight the other night?”
He snorted at that, though he seemed to tighten further as her hands slid around his bare waist, loosening the shirt from the front of his pants as well.
“Devlin wouldn’t dare,” he growled. “No harm was done.”
“Hmm…” she murmured, spreading her hands along the flat planes of his abdomen and feeling them flex with tension. “According to your opinion of harm I guess.”
A hiss sounded through the link as her nails scraped across his hard-packed flesh.
“Behave,” he growled, though she heard the rising lust in his voice.
“Do you know what?” She leaned closer, smoothing her cheek along his back as the wind whipped around them. “I remember another ride we took once. There was this huge horse that you insisted I ride with you…”
He groaned as her hands dipped into the snugly laced waistband. Instantly, his hand covered hers, lifting her fingers as she smiled against his back.
“Stop,” he growled. He almost sounded as though he meant it.
“Do you remember the gown I was wearing?” she whispered. “You lifted it so easily, and made me ride you instead. Perhaps I should find a dress to wear tomorrow. If the cops can’t see we’re speeding, could they see if we were fucking?”
She could feel the effect her words had on him, not to mention the vague memory that was slowly driving her insane.
“If you do not stop this madness, I will not care who sees me fucking you.” He was snarling, she could hear it in his voice.
Her hands snuck between his thighs before he could stop her, her fingers curling around the thickness of his cock beneath the leather breeches.
“Have you ever done it on a Harley, Shane?” she asked him a second before she allowed her teeth to rake across the material that covered his back.
He shuddered. A hard flexing of muscles as she tempted him. She hated his silence, hated it more than anything she had ever known. Something inside her was smothering, hurting with a hollow, violent ache she couldn’t explain.
“I told you,” his voice was darker now, deadly. “I have taken no other woman since your death. Not in a bed, on a horse, or a Harley.” He lifted her hand from his cock, placing it instead on his waist. “Now, unless you wish me to scatter our bodies along this highway, I suggest you keep your hands above my waist.”
He was pissed. She could hear it. Hell, she could smell his anger on the wind around them.
“I won’t let you be angry with me,” she said then, pushing back the hurt the thought of it filled her with. “Why are you angry with me, Shane?”
But she was afraid she knew why. This was her punishment for not returning his words of love. She breathed in deeply, refusing to let it hurt her. She had known her refusal would come with a price.
Didn’t it always?
It shouldn’t hurt either. It shouldn’t feel like a dagger was piercing her chest and ripping her soul wide. But it did. That was exactly how it felt, and she didn’t like the sensation at all. It meant he mattered. She couldn’t afford to let anyone matter to the point that they could wound her so severely.
But Shane did.
“I’m not angry with you, Ariel.” She couldn’t see his face, but she knew he was lying to her.
Slowly she moved her hands back from his flesh, almost whimpering at the loss of his warmth as she eased back, placing the distance between them that she thought he needed. She could feel the fear rising inside her now. Like a dark specter, it inched through her mind, reminding her of a dark, enclosed closet, the smell of her own fear.
He could hurt her now. She hadn’t expected that to happen in such a short amount of time.
She took a deep breath, her hands clenching on her thighs, fisting against the sudden bleak agony that filled her. It wasn’t so much his anger but the distance she felt from him. She had no fear of him, knew he wouldn’t hurt her. He loved her. Didn’t he? He had said he loved her.
She had no experience with that emotion, but she knew he wouldn’t lie to her. He had to believe he loved her. But what if his definition of lov
e was similar to her father’s? Would he punish her for some imagined slight, some wrong she had done him?
She remembered her Grandmother whispering she loved her. Remembered a sense of warmth, but not enough to use as a basis for love.
“I need to stop.” She was going to be sick. The darkness rose inside her until it boiled in her stomach, clashed within her head and made her dizzy, weak from the effects of it. “Stop, Shane. I need to stop.”
She wasn’t going to lose herself at this point, she couldn’t. But she could feel it in her head, the twisting, demon-filled darkness coming closer, ever closer. Darker than the closet her father had locked her in, darker than the pain…
It struck her abdomen first. A fiery strike of remembered agony that lashed at her flesh and sent her grasping for purchase amid the insanity boiling in her mind.
Her hands locked on Shane’s waist, nails digging into him as the motorcycle suddenly swerved, then picked up speed and began to race forward. She could hear his voice in her ear, but the winds blocked it. Screams echoed around her and they weren’t her own. If only they were then she might have endured it. Memory couldn’t really hurt, but this, this was more than just memory.
She was gasping for breath when she felt the motorcycle jerk to a stop, her eyes wide, dazed, as Shane jumped from his seat and jerked her from her own.
“Make it stop now.” He shook her harshly, his eyes blazing down at her as she stared up at him, dazed.
The screams continued, hollow and almost broken. Were they hers?
“Ariel, listen to me,” he snapped furiously. “Hear me now. It is over. There is no more pain. Do you hear me? No more pain.”
She shook her head, gasping for air. She had to breathe, but God, it hurt so bad.
A memory, demonic, deadly, seared her brain. A face of such beauty it was inhuman, and eyes evil, glowing with hatred, with rage as an arm drew back, energy building between his fingers, white-hot, blistering as he aimed it and let it strike.
The winds screamed. Or was it her? Lightning slashed at the sky above them, dark clouds moving in, heavy with the threat of rain.
“Help her!” he was screaming at someone as her body arched. The pain was horrendous, deadly. She would die beneath it and she couldn’t even see it.
She reached out to the crystal that lay burning hot at her breast. It spoke to the winds for her, she thought desperately. It was her protection. Why wasn’t it protecting her?
Then it came, like a healing touch, warm, blessedly warm where she was cold. Cool where she burned. The pain no longer blistered. It no longer attacked with such brutality that it stole her breath.
She slumped in Shane’s arms, realizing only then that somehow he had managed to get them onto a secluded back road before pulling into a hidden canyon.
“Make it stop,” she whispered, realizing only then that tears wet her face, perspiration soaked her body. “I can’t make it stop.”
But it was going away. The darkness in her mind was slipping back, back into the hidden recess that it had been secreted into.
“God! Fuck!” A line of curses, some she had never heard began to leave his lips as he held her tighter to his chest, his head bent over her, his body still, tense with whatever emotion filled him. Fury? Pain?
Her hands gripped his arms, her head held to the spot above his heart, hearing it beat with a rough, driving rhythm that matched her own now.
“Don’t you ever do this to me again, woman.” He held her away long enough to stare into her face with her dark, pain-ridden eyes before jerking her to him again. Holding her closer, tighter.
“Shane, let her go.” Chantel’s voice was soft, concerned, her hand touching Ariel’s shoulder. “Let’s make sure she’s okay. Let me see her.”
He eased her back again, lifting her until she sat crossways on the seat of the motorcycle, staring up at him in confusion.
“Ariel, I need to check something.” Chantel stood before her, her green eyes glowing. “I want you to lift your shirt and let me see your stomach. Just for a moment.”
Confused, Ariel watched as Shane nudged the other woman aside, gripped the hem of Ariel’s shirt and pulled it above her abdomen. Her gaze followed five other sets, then widened in horror.
Bloody tracks were showing in the flesh, not deep enough to scar, but there all the same, crisscrossing over her abdomen. She raised her hand, touching the long, thin marks with trembling fingers. Pulling back, she stared at the blood before raising frightened eyes to Shane.
Her lips trembled, her body shuddered. There was blood, enough to drip down and stain the leather pants she wore. Enough to cover the tips of her fingers.
“This isn’t insanity,” she said hoarsely, realizing only then she had believed her father’s warning. “Shane…” She heard the plea in her voice and was helpless against it. “This is madness.”
Chapter Twenty-One
The horrible lashes were gone hours later. If Shane and the others hadn’t seen them, hadn’t been able to assure her that they had indeed been there, Ariel would have lost her mind then.
She stood in the middle of yet another motel room, staring down at her bared stomach, her expression blank as Chantel touched the unmarred flesh lightly, her green eyes glowing.
“Something’s wrong,” the other woman whispered, her voice so soft that Ariel knew none of the men in the other room of the suite could hear her. “Do you remember how it happened?”
Ariel shrugged, the motion jerky, betraying the nervous energy that filled her, the realizations she couldn’t run from any longer. No, she wasn’t crazy. She sighed wearily at that thought. She would have almost preferred the insanity.
“It just happened,” she finally frowned, trying to remember the exact moment she felt the dark power swirling around her.
She moved away from Chantel, uncomfortable with the subtle effects of her crystal reaching out to the sister stone Ariel herself wore. It was—odd—was the only description she could find for it. Not exactly uncomfortable, but unfamiliar perhaps?
She turned away from the other woman, straightening her shirt before crossing her arms over her breasts.
She wished Shane didn’t feel so far away from her.
Ariel shivered at the thought. She could feel the distance between them and for the first time being completely alone was more frightening than ever before. She needed him.
She swallowed tightly, her throat thick with emotion, with hurt. She couldn’t understand it. It made so little sense that he would suddenly become so angry with her.
“Ariel…” Chantel hesitated behind her. “Nothing just happens. Especially not where Jonar is concerned. The crystal should have protected you. With Shane’s strength, it can keep Jonar from attacking you at anytime, anywhere. Something had to have happened.”
“Nothing happened,” she forced the words past her lips as she shook her head fiercely. “We were just riding. I was teasing him when I shouldn’t have been.” She blinked back the tears as she remembered the coldness in his voice. “I shouldn’t have distracted him, I guess.” She tightened her arms, holding herself closer. But there was no warmth in her own embrace. “I don’t know, Chantel. One moment everything was fine. The next…”
The next minute hell had whipped through her mind.
Ariel drew in a ragged breath at that thought.
“I can feel it,” Chantel muttered then. “I just don’t know what the hell I feel.”
Now that made sense, unfortunately. Ariel could feel it herself. The air was constantly shifting around her, pulling itself into thick, warming threads that wrapped around her, making her suddenly conscious of just how heavy air itself could become. As though gravity had become heavier.
“Is she all right?” Shane’s dark, brooding voice sent a hard shudder down her spine as he spoke from the doorway.
She turned slowly, facing him, as Chantel did as well. He looked so much larger than he ever had before. His chest was bare now, the hard-packed muscles
flexing beneath the tough, bronzed flesh. The waistband of his breeches rode low on his hips, emphasizing the lean hips, the bulge between his thighs. Her mouth watered at the size of his erection, her pussy heated. Which was sad, she thought, very, very sad considering how angry he appeared to be. She should be ready to spit in his face rather than fuck him silly.
“As far as I can tell,” Chantel finally sighed. “The marks are gone, and her crystal seems very active. I just don’t understand it. I can’t figure out how Jonar got to her.”
Ariel nearly flinched at the dark look Shane cast her then. As though Chantel’s comment had somehow angered him further.
“We’ll figure it out.” She didn’t like the brooding sound of his voice. If Chantel’s expression was anything to go by, she didn’t think much of it either.
“I’m sure we will.” She turned, giving Ariel a long, concerned look. “Will you be okay?”
“She’ll be fine,” Shane answered for her, surprising Ariel as much as he did Chantel. “I think she needs to rest for now. We’ll see the rest of you in the morning.”
There was no mistaking the command in his voice. Chantel turned back to him as Ariel tensed, anger churning inside her. What the hell was his problem?
“I see,” Chantel murmured then, her voice cool.
“Shane’s right, Chantel.” Ariel tightened her fingers on her crossed arms, staring back at Shane, knowing the challenge that glittered in her eyes. “I might just need to rest.” Or hit the brooding Viking with a very thick, very long board.
Turning, Chantel moved to her, hugging her quickly, taking Ariel by surprise. The comfort, the consolation in that small embrace had tears dampening her eyes.
“I’ll see you in the morning then,” Chantel whispered at her ear. “Call me if you need me, Ariel. You know how.”
A sudden flash, a dizzying shift of reality, washed over her as she suddenly saw the other woman, her face pale, tear-streaked…dying.
Ariel pulled back, fighting to distance herself from this new, flashing bit of knowledge. Past? Or future? Was she seeing what happened or what would happen? God help her, she couldn’t handle seeing the future as well as a past that she should have no knowledge of.