by Lynn Lorenz
"Was she treated?"
"Aye, the cuts will heal with no scarring. After I saw her, her mother took her to the healer to have the wounds tended and to get the potion." Rolf gestured with his cutting knife.
"Well, thank goodness her family is of the mind to spare her that disgrace. No one wants a bastard, Rolf." Thatcher shook his head.
"The family wants it kept as quiet as possible. She was only fourteen, a child. Under the bruises I could tell she was fair." Rolf took another bite of chicken.
"And the suspect?"
"We had to let him go, of course. No evidence. He was clean. No torn clothes and no blood. I even made the man undress in the barn, in hopes of finding some trace of blood. He swore he'd never left the road as he traveled between Avea and Reynolds Grange." He shrugged. "I sent a man there to check his story."
Thatcher stood and nodded. "I'll expect your written report later tomorrow. Get some rest tonight, Rolf."
Rolf gave a weary salute to Thatcher and continued eating. The chief left the hall.
* * * *
Damon fell into his chair and let out a great sigh. "Gustav!"
"Sir." The addler appeared before him. "Your boots, sir?"
Damon stuck out one leg and the addler knelt to pull off his boot. Damon's ears felt a slight change in pressure, signaling a teleport, and he tensed.
"I'll take over now, Gustav." A soft alto voice spoke.
"Aye, madam." The addler bowed to the woman and left.
Damon looked up into the smoky gray eyes of Inspector Mercy Loch and smiled. "You're wearing your hair up today, my love."
"Yes, I am. It's nice of you to notice." She kept her smile small as she knelt before him and pulled off his remaining boot.
"You know how it bothers me. Now, I'll have to take it down." He pulled her to him as his large fingers began searching for the delicate copper pins that held her hair. Tress by tress, the light amber hair fell to her shoulders. Finally, her hair released, he took her face in his hands and pulled her to him for a kiss. His mouth found hers and his tongue delved between her parted lips.
She ran her hand through his grey-flecked red hair, then cupped his face.
"It's been a long day, Mercy. Let's go to bed." The look in his blue eyes told her he had no intention of sleeping. She stood, took his hand, and led him to the bed they'd shared for the last five years.
"You need your sleep, old man," she teased him.
Pulling her to him, he kissed her again. This time he didn't hide his hunger for her. "Old man, eh? I may not be young, but I think I can still satisfy a woman." He pretended to growl.
"Prove it," she whispered back, as she bit his ear.
* * * *
Stefan dreamed of Sarah. Naked, he was lost in a thick veil of her ebony hair as it trapped him. Tendrils of it wrapped around his ankles and wrists, binding him, pulling him to the ground. He tried to pull away, but the strands were too strong and held him fast.
Lying bound to the oddly warm ground, his desire built. Each time he struggled to get free, muscles flexing, back arching, the bindings that held him tightened. Each time, there was an answering tightening of his loins as his rod hardened. He struggled until he was so exhausted he could no longer offer any resistance. However, his erection held strong, like a long, thick staff hot and hard against his belly.
With a final tensing of his entire body, he gave in, panting, beads of sweat standing out on his forehead.
The bindings disappeared.
Sarah knelt over him, smiling into his eyes. Her hair fell over her shoulders in glorious waves of black, brushing his chest. His nipples tightened as she moved her head back and forth, dragging her hair over him, its weight heavy against his tingling skin. His erection jerked in response.
He reached up to her and wove his fingers into her hair. It felt like silk as it flowed through his hands. Inhaling, her scent went straight to his groin, animal-like in its intensity. His body ached for her.
"Sarah." He moaned.
Moving back, her hair trailed down his chest, across his taut stomach, followed by her hands. He suppressed a shudder as the silken midnight fall passed over his engorged member, leaving its very skin on fire.
Kneeling between his legs, her fingers blazed a trail of fire across his stomach, tracing the path of her hair. Making lazy circles as she made her way lower, her fingertips brushed the smooth head of his thick manhood and a jolt of pleasure shot through him. The One God forgive him, he prayed for more than just a glancing touch and, by her mercy, she obliged him by wrapping her hand around his shaft and began stroking him.
He writhed as she tortured him with her slow, sweet touch. Stefan prayed for it to last forever, to leave him in this place, where they existed together.
Sarah lowered her head to his engorged rod and took him in her mouth. Stefan woke with a groan as he released, his body arching off the bed. Spent, he fell back. He kept his eyes closed and tried to hold onto the image of Sarah from his dream, but it slipped from him, as elusive as her hair as it slipped through his fingers.
He hadn't spilled in his sleep in a very long time. The dream had been vivid and erotic, so powerful, and his desire for Sarah so great, he couldn't control his sleeping body's response.
By the One God, twice in one night?
He'd eased his aching for Sarah before falling asleep. Eased, but obviously not slaked. He was unfamiliar with this damnable thirst. He knew the desire for a woman and the need for release. He'd been with enough whores and wenches to recognize it. This was something foreign to his experience. Powerful and, in a way, frightening.
He'd never quench his thirst for Sarah until he could taste her in his mouth and feel the supple flesh of her body beneath his fingers.
That started him on a new tangent. What sweet flesh that would be. Soft like velvet, firm, yet yielding to the touch. The flavor of her skin would be addictive--one taste would never be enough. And the thought of her petals hiding between her legs brought on throbbing in his loins.
Stefan sat up and clutched his head in his hands. She'll drive me mad before long.
Flinging off the quilts, naked, he went into the bathroom and started the water running in the soaking tub. He stood at the toilet, stretched, and emptied his bladder.
In the tub, the water level rose steadily. Slipping into its heat, he stretched out. Too tall to lie in it fully, if he sat up, at least his legs could be straight. He laid there, arms resting on the sides of the tub, eyes closed, and thought of her.
What was Damon thinking bringing her here? And why do I have to watch over her?
He tried to think of another woman, but his mind gave him only Sarah. Had a woman ever affected him so strongly? No, not even when he was eighteen and Cordelia Waterford, Marsh Waterford's older sister, had clouded his judgment with her pale beauty.
Sarah was infuriating, headstrong, proud. She was unskilled and could be a danger to herself and others. She was the most beautiful, intriguing woman he'd ever laid eyes on.
Why would he think she'd want him when she could have any man? The One God knew there were better men than he. Richer, certainly, and with much to offer her.
He throbbed again with wanting her.
It's wrong.
He was her superior officer, even though she was the station's trainer. Surely, any fraternization was against station policy. To fulfill his desires meant dishonor, both for her and him. What he wanted to do to her, with her, outside of sacred marriage was against the One God. She was no wench for him to bed and leave at morning's first light.
Sacred marriage?
What was he thinking? A woman like her, independent and strong-willed, wasn't interested in marriage. She was a career woman, like Mercy Loch. Besides, she would never accept him. Stefan shook his head.
You just met the woman, you old fool.
What the hell was he doing, even thinking like that? He could have his thoughts, couldn't he? As long as they stayed thoughts, dreams, fantasies
.
Taking a deep breath, he slipped a little deeper into the water and bent his knees until his body was submerged. He came up, hair soaking, and began to wash himself. With warm water from the spigot, he used a pitcher to pour the water over him.
"Firestone!"
"Aye, Inspector!" A redheaded addler appeared. "You're early, sir. Is something or someone keeping you up?" He gave Stefan a knowing look.
"Never mind," Stefan snapped at his servant. "Get my uniform ready. Please."
"Aye, sir. And your reports?"
"I'll look at them later. Just put them by my chair."
As Firestone worked in the other room, he called out to Stefan, "Did you know there's a new addler at the castle? She says she belongs to the new patroller."
"Aye." He grunted, rose from the bath and grabbed a towel. Water sluiced off his lean, muscular body, and dripped from his long hair. Leaning over, he twisted the wet locks to remove excess water.
"She's very pretty. Word in the attics is, so is her mistress." Firestone stuck his head in the door and wiggled his bushy red eyebrows up and down.
"Is she?" Stefan ran the towel over the muscles on his taut stomach and then swung the towel to his broad back, pulling it back and forth, as he dried himself. He did not intend to tell Firestone he'd already met Sarah. That would just start the addler off on another lecture about his single status.
"You should make a good impression on her, sir, since you're the chief's second!"
"What has that to do with anything?" Seemed he was going to get the lecture this morning regardless.
Stefan stood in front of the mirror, the towel now wrapped around his waist, as he worked the lather in his shaving cup. He glanced at his face and thought of her beauty next to his looks.
All he saw reflected were eyes that couldn't decide from one day to the next if they were green or brown. A straight nose that was too prominent. A square jaw with a small scar on his chin. Thick, straight, shoulder-length black hair parted in the middle.
In comparison to Rolf and most of the other men at the station, his looks were lacking.
When the lather was just right, he began applying the thick froth using a bristle brush over his lower face, obscuring part of the image in the mirror.
Firestone appeared at his side. "You're in your prime, sir! You should've long ago taken a wife and started a family!"
The addler was really in a mood today, Stefan thought.
Perched on the side of the tub, Firestone held out a cup of tea on a saucer for his charge.
"You have to be able to offer a woman something first. I have nothing any woman wants." He took the cup from Firestone, sipped, and then placed it back on the saucer.
Firestone looked at his charge. "You've got much a woman might want, under that towel." He waggled his eyebrows again.
"Never mind what's under my towel." Stefan couldn't help but smile, although briefly. "I just can't seem to figure out what it is women want."
"Well, if you'd listen to me..." Firestone rolled his eyes.
"Firestone, have you got a female?" Stefan turned to look at his servant, his hands on his hips.
"Well, no. Not yet." He frowned and then looked hopeful. "But I have my eye on a very pretty young earth addler in housekeeping."
"Well, when you capture her heart, let me know." His lips turned up in a half-grin. "Perhaps then I'll take your advice."
Firestone's head dipped and his shoulders hunched. "Aye, sir."
After opening his straight razor, its blade reflecting flashes of light on the wall, Stefan reached down, took the end of the leather strop in one hand, and pulled it tight. The other end looped over the wooden towel bar of his sink. He began to work the blade back and forth in long, purposeful strokes, honing its edge.
When Stefan decided it was sharp enough, he placed the blade against his jaw line and started to shave his cheek, dragging the blade upward to his sideburn. His eyes watched his image in the mirror.
Firestone looked up. The dark mark burned into the flesh of Stefan's shoulder blade was just visible to him and he dropped his gaze from it. He sighed. "Your uniform is laid out. I shined your pins and your boots."
"Thank you, you can go now." Stefan wiped the blade clean of the lather and the short black bristles from his face across the small towel that hung on the wooden bar.
The addler placed the cup and saucer on a small table by the tub and teleported out, leaving Stefan to finish his shave.
Stefan's hazel eyes looked again at the face in the mirror. He lifted his chin, closed his eyes, and touched the blade to his throat.
Chapter 6
Sarah was taking a bath when Tandy appeared in the doorway, the blush on her face a becoming shade of soft green.
"Miss, it's here." The little addler bounced on her toes.
"What is, Tandy?" Sarah rinsed her hair, pouring water from a pitcher over her head.
"Your equipment, of course!" Tandy's little hands clapped.
"Great!" Sarah rose, squeezed out the water from her hair and took the towel Tandy offered her. Wrapping it around her, she stepped out of the tub. "Get my clothes ready, please. I want to get dressed and down there as soon as possible."
Tandy nodded as she followed Sarah to help her get ready. Dressed in a comfortable long skirt and blouse, Sarah let Tandy lead the way to her new training room.
She and Sarah reached the dungeon and followed the brightly lit corridor, past Inspector Loch's office.
"That is Inspector Creel's office, and this is Inspector Bane's office." Tandy pointed out two doors, on either side of the hall.
Relief flooded Sarah at the sight of Stefan's closed door. She was determined to avoid him, if possible. Rolf's stood open, though, and she stopped as she passed and knocked softly on the doorframe.
"Good morning, Inspector," Sarah said.
Rolf looked up from his writing. "Oh, Sarah, it's good to see you." He stood and came around the desk, his hand extended to her.
She took it, and Rolf gave it a soft squeeze.
"I wanted to thank you for being so kind to me at dinner the other night." She smiled at him.
"Not at all. I remember what it's like to be the new man." His eyes crinkled in the corners when he smiled at her. "Come to look at your new digs?"
"Aye. I've got a lot of work to do to get it ready for my classes." She gave a quick glance to Stefan's closed door.
"He's not around. Out on assignment," Rolf said.
"It's just as well. We didn't exactly start off on the best of terms."
"Stefan is... well, he's a difficult man, Sarah." Rolf scratched behind his ear, searching for the words.
"To say the least." She smirked, then sobered. "A man searching..."
"Aye, that's him." He stared at her, his head cocked to the side, as if seeing her in some new light. "Well, then, I won't keep you from your work." With that, he went back to his desk, and she stepped back into the hall.
Tandy stood by a door on the other side of Stefan's office. "Here's your room, miss."
Entering the room, Sarah looked around. Thanks to Tandy, the center chandelier, a large, black, wrought iron wheel with twelve candleholders placed around it, was already lit. The size of the room was perfect. At least forty feet long and twenty feet wide, Sarah would have plenty of space for her students to move around in.
Discarded furniture, tables, benches, and even a speaking podium sat strewn about the room.
"Well, we have our work cut out for us, Tandy."
They began moving the benches against the walls, Sarah using her wand, and Tandy with just a flick of her delicate wrist. Addlers harnessed fire, earth, air, and water, the elemental powers; their bodies amplified their power, boosting it. Humans used wands to amplify and direct the majik locked inside their minds.
Once most of the furniture had been stacked to one side of the room for removal to another room, Sarah and Tandy rested. Sarah sat on a chair, and Tandy was perched on the edge of a smal
l table.
"Try it, miss, like I taught you--use your entire body." Tandy pointed to a heavy teacher's podium against the far wall.
"All right. But it's bigger than any of the other things I've moved." Sarah bit her lip.
Standing, she faced the podium and put her wand away. Raising her hand, she concentrated. The podium began to vibrate. Sarah focused her thoughts. Visualizing a path, she pushed the power from her mind, sweeping it through her body, down her arm, and out her fingertips.
The podium trembled, but didn't move. Then, it shook as Sarah concentrated, refocused her thoughts, and opened her mind to more power. With a loud scrape, the podium slid across the stone floor to the far side of the room.
Tandy clapped her tiny hands together. "Well done, miss! I wager you've got a drop or two of elemental blood in you."
Sarah knew exactly whose blood was in her veins and wished it were only elemental blood.
"That was a clever trick without a wand." Bane's deep voice came from the shadows near the door. "It's obvious you don't need my help."
Sarah jumped and whirled around.
The shadows darkening the back of the room hid Stefan's face as he leaned his long body against the doorframe, arms folded, legs crossed at his booted ankles.
"I thought you were gone, sir," Sarah said. "We're just finishing." She placed her hands on her hips. "Are you here to help?"
"No, I'm not." He looked down and regarded the nails of one hand. It was a large hand, to fit his body, with slender, tapering fingers. He wore no rings.
His fingers would be smooth to the touch, she imagined. No calluses on those hands, they would glide over her skin, leaving every inch of her tingling...
Stop that.
She rubbed her own hands together, feeling what years of hard work off-world had done to them. Feeling the heat rise in her face, she moved her hands behind her back.
Physical labor among women was unknown on-world, unless you were common folk with low majik skills.