by Alyssa Dean
It took her and the horses a good while to find it. She wasn't sure of its exact location, and the horses didn't appear certain, either. A couple of times they had to backtrack, but Kent didn't notice, although once he roused himself to give her a confused, puzzled look. After that, he seemed content to let the horse take him wherever she wanted. At last, settled in the bushes to look as natural as possible, she found the green-and-brown prefab hut she'd been looking for.
The horses stopped in front of it. Their sudden lack of movement seemed to jar Kent awake, and he glanced around, shaking the rain out of his face. "Is this your neighbor's place?"
"Not exactly." Faye slid down to try the door—it was both locked and padlocked. She felt around in her bag, and found the small glass tube containing the remainder of the acid she had used on the locks at Sharade Research. There wasn't much left, but it was enough to dissolve both the padlock and the door handle. She breathed a thankful sigh, as Kent came up behind her.
"What's going on?" he mumbled. "What are we doing here? I thought we…"
"I—I thought we should get out of the rain," Faye explained. She looked at him anxiously—perhaps she should have checked with him before coming here.
"Good idea," he said, nodding. He glanced back in the direction of the horses, but they had wandered up to take shelter among the trees. He gave half a shrug and followed her inside.
It was a storage hut more than anything else—one square room occupied almost entirely by four padlocked metal lockers placed against one side and along the far wall. When they closed the door, the room was pitch-black. Faye left it open a crack, and checked her tube of acid. "There's not enough left," she said to Kent. "Can you open those locks?"
"I don't know." He sat down in the middle of the room, crossed his legs and closed his eyes. For a few minutes she didn't think he had enough strength left, then, at last the padlocks popped open, one by one.
"I hope that's all you need." Kent mumbled. "I don't think I can do that again for a while. Where is this place?"
"Out here," Faye said absently. She skipped around, checking the locker contents. Blankets, foam pads, bottled water, a container of kerosene, a small heater and a lamp. Kent lit both while Faye spread out the foam pads and arranged blankets. He was still strong enough for modesty—he turned his back while she pulled off her wet clothes and wrapped herself in a blanket. Then he made her turn away while he stripped. When he let her turn around, he was sitting on one of the foam pads, under a blanket. "This was a brilliant idea," he enthused. "I'm soaked."
He was, too, although he'd made an attempt to dry off. His hair was attractively mussed, and the muscles of his arms shimmered in the faint light of the lantern. Faye sat down on the other pad, feeling her body warm from the inside as she looked at him. "I'm not sure we could get across the river in all this rain," she told him rather breathlessly. "We might have to stay here until the rain stops."
"Where exactly is here?"
"We're a bit off-course. We're about halfway between Taggert's place and mine. The only real access to here is by the river. That's why the place is here. It's an emergency hut for one of those white-water rafting tours they bring down from MacKay. I'd forgotten it was here."
Kent's brow furrowed. "That's not very far. Those men…"
"The rain should make it difficult for them." She folded up a corner of the blanket, then straightened it. "I was thinking… um… if I were one of those men, I'd go straight to the neighbor's and wait. For us, I mean."
"I didn't think of that." Kent hid a yawn behind his palm. "You're right. That's what they'd do. We'll have to be careful when we approach Taggert's place. Real careful."
"I thought it might be better if you rested," Faye went on. "I mean, your magnetic field…"
"Is worn-out," he agreed. He patted her hand. "You're one clever lady. I could sure use some sleep, although I'm not sure it's wise."
"It's okay," she soothed. "I'll know if someone is coming."
"Good thing." He flicked a finger down her palm. "I sure won't. Let's get some rest, then come up with a plan before we tackle that crowd again."
Faye tingled more from his touch than from his praise. He must have felt it, as well. He bent toward her and kissed her mouth, softly and gently, nothing more. As she parted her lips under his, he groaned and moved away.
"What's wrong?" Faye asked. She put her head to one side. "I told you we were going to be lovers, and…"
"And I don't go around molesting pixies. It's the first thing they tell you in Wizard school. Keep your hands off the pixies, or you get turned into a toad." He lay down and pulled his blanket up to his chin.
"I thought you said you weren't a Wizard."
He closed his eyes, his lips twitching into a smile. "I thought you said I was."
"You're a Wizard, all right." Faye stretched out a hand and turned off the lantern, darkening their surroundings to almost-total blackness. "You're just an… inhibited one. I guess that can happen, although it's not what I expected."
"I don't know what you're expecting," Kent said, his voice sleepy. "That's part of the problem. You're one sexy little lady, and I'd certainly like to comply with your wishes. It just wouldn't be right."
"Why not?"
She heard him shift around. "I was married once, babe. It was big mistake—one I have no intention of repeating, in any form. I am simply not good at commitment."
Faye wasn't quite sure what he was getting at. "What's that got to do with… ?" Then it struck her. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "You think I want to marry you?"
He yawned again. "Not marriage, maybe, but if you've waited all this time before being with a man, it's only logical to assume that you've got something permanent in mind."
Faye was incredibly insulted that he thought her so foolish. "I certainly don't!" she retorted. "Wizards are terrible at long-term commitment. No one with any sense wants to be married to one. They're restless and easily bored and—"
"It's okay," Kent interrupted. "You've convinced me you're the leading Wizard expert in the room,"
Faye could hear his amusement, and was unaccountably annoyed by it. He had rescued her, she was ever-so-grateful, and she thought he was marvelous. On the other hand, he kept acting like she was a mental case, and refused to allow them to become lovers. She lay down and pulled the blanket up to her chin. "They're also supposed to have strong libidos," she muttered. "Although, I guess that isn't true in all cases."
Kent's breath hissed out. "Where did you learn all this about Wizards?" There was an unusual tone in his voice; not anger, but a hint of warning.
"M-my mother," Faye stuttered.
"Perhaps she should have advised you not to torment one when he's tired."
"She did," Faye told him. "Not even Ayaldwodes always follow their mother's advice."
The warning note in Kent's voice darkened. "In this case, it might be wise to do so."
It sounded like more than a suggestion. Faye decided to take her mother's advice. She retreated over onto her side, and closed her eyes.
When she awoke it was still raining, and Kent was still asleep. She fumbled in the blackness to light the lamp, then slipped outside to peer at the cloud-covered night sky, and to get a feel for the time. It was just after eight o'clock, she decided. She'd been asleep for about six hours. She drank some water, ate some dried beans, and huddled back under the blanket to think. There was no point in waking up Kent. They couldn't go anywhere in the pouring rain. They might as well wait until morning, since he wasn't about to do anything more than lie around.
She lay on her side and watched Kent sleep. His jaw was heavily stubbled now, his lips slightly parted. The blanket only half covered his bare chest, the crisp curls wickedly enticing. She felt that unusual warmth begin again inside her, and turned away from him. She'd told him they were to be lovers, and he hadn't done much about it, other than kiss her. He was one weird Wizard, all right.
All that stupid talk about being married—what
was that? She knew how it was with a Wizard. She knew they had no talent for futures and commitment, and she certainly knew better than to fall in love with one. Her mother had warned her about that. All she wanted was to defeat the Alchemist, and to do that, they had to become lovers. Now that he was here, and they had this opportunity, she was anxious to get on with it. It was supposed to be a relatively painless experience. She was certain Kent could make the magic happen, and then it would be behind her.
Kent shifted over, making a little grunting snore. Faye touched her fingertips to her lips, remembering the way his mouth felt on hers, and that ache inside her began again. She wanted this to happen, she wanted it to happen with him, and it was her responsibility to make sure it happened. However, he'd made it dear he wasn't going to cooperate. What was she supposed to do now? What on earth could be wrong with him?
Perhaps something unforeseen had happened. That was a possibility. Accidents did happen to Wizards, and he was a rather unprepared one. Perhaps there was more to this failed marriage of his than he was telling her. She sat up and eyed him uncertainly. He looked physically all right, but then again, she hadn't seen all of him, had she? He'd made certain she turned away while he undressed earlier. And, this morning, he'd had her leave the room before he got up. Perhaps, just perhaps, he was being so difficult because he had a physical problem that meant he couldn't… function. She lay back down, then sat up again. If she just moved his blanket a bit, she could easily check out the situation without him knowing. Under the circumstances, that might be the best thing to do.
There was a cold breeze on his leg. Kent grunted and rolled over, but the breeze persisted, dragging him away from the very suggestive dream he'd been enjoying. He opened one eye, realized he must still be asleep, and closed it again. He was not awake, he assured himself, and little Miss Tinker Bell was not, repeat, not, studying his body as if she were his personal physician. This was a dream, and if it wasn't, it had exactly five seconds to turn into one.
The blanket settled back over him. Kent peeked from under an eyelid again. Totally naked, Faye was sitting on the foam pad beside him, legs crossed, elbows on knees, chin supported by her palms, her expression a mixture of confusion and relief. Kent stopped breathing as his chest tightened with unexpected emotion. She was so darn sweet, so incredibly well put together—her pink-tipped breasts, her white skin, that pale blond triangle of curls… His body responded at once, and his annoyance, and all his good intentions slipped away. She'd made it clear what she wanted, and he wanted it, as well. Fighting it seemed pointless.
He rolled over onto his back and opened his eyes. "Hi, babe," he drawled. "Whatcha up to?"
She jumped back, and he thrust out a lazy hand, catching hold of her ankle. "Don't run off, now."
She swallowed nervously, glanced down at his hand, then directly into his face. "I… um… didn't mean to wake you up."
"Uh-huh. What did you mean to do?"
"Um…" Her entire body blushed, a fascinating, enticing effect. "I'm… um… I was… f-finding out if… um… there was a problem."
"A problem?" he repeated. "What sort of problem?"
She swept her eyelids down, declining to answer.
Kent sat up slowly, and took her hand, massaging the palm with a finger. "What sort of problem?"
"A… a physical problem."
Kent pressed his lips together to control his smile. "A physical problem, eh?"
She nodded, her breath catching as he slid his hand into her hair, holding her head for his kiss. He rubbed his lips over hers until her mouth opened, then slid his tongue inside, tasting her soft moistness. When he raised his head, her eyes were dazed and beckoning, and her color had deepened. "Go on," he encouraged. "What's all this about a physical problem?"
Her face was about one inch from his, and the pulse in her throat raced nervously. "It doesn't matter," she whispered. "There doesn't appear to be one."
"I'm pleased to hear that." He put a hand on each of her arms, slowly stroking upward across her shoulders, then down to brush across the tops of her breasts. "Can I interest you in a demonstration?"
Her pink tongue slipped out to moisten her bottom lip. "A dem-demonstration?"
"That's right." He cupped her breasts in his palms, touching his thumbs to the hardening tips, watching the telltale pulse in her neck throb with reaction. He bent to press his lips against it, and she kept very still, except for one slight shudder. He rested his forehead against hers and looked her straight in the eye. "Do you still want to make love?"
Her lips trembled into a smile as she nodded.
"You're sure, now?"
Again, she nodded.
"If you really are a virgin, there could be some… discomfort."
"I really am a virgin," she whispered. "I want to make love with you, Kent. It's inevitable."
"You won't be sorry later?"
She pressed a small, scented palm to his lips. "I'm not going to be sorry—ever."
"All right." He kissed her again, but when her mouth opened under his, he resisted the invitation. It would be too easy to get caught up in his own passion, to forget that this was her first time, and accidentally hurt her. She made tiny purring sounds, wound her arms up around him, pulling him closer, pressing her breasts against his bare chest. He caressed the softness of her bare back, then gently pressed her down beside him. Her silver-blue eyes half opened to gaze trustingly up at him. He watched her expression as he stroked her breasts, taking great delight in her pleasure.
"Am I supposed to feel like this?" she gasped.
"I don't know." He circled her lips with his tongue. "How do you feel?"
"W-wonderful," she gurgled. Her back arched, and he responded to the invitation with his lips, tugging gently on each eager nipple. She tasted like nothing he'd ever tasted before, yet it was totally familiar, and he couldn't get enough of it.
Faye made little cooing sounds, urging him on, whispering soft words of pleasure at each touch. Kent was absolutely enamored by her reaction. He explored every inch of her with his hands and mouth, fascinated by the look of his dark flesh over her pale skin, and enjoying her taste, her scent. When he slowly parted her thighs and stroked the silky flesh between, her entire body trembled. She tossed her head restlessly from side to side, murmuring his name. He moved to kiss her, and her fingers danced over the muscles in his back, her touch feather-light, yet scorching. "Oh, please, Kent," she moaned.
"What do you need, honey?" he said softly. He slid a finger inside her. "This?"
"Yes, oh, yes."
She was moist and warm and definitely ready. He knelt between her legs and gathered her hips up to meet his. Then, with a slowness he found almost painful, he moved into her.
She gasped and her eyes flew open. "Am I hurting you?" he whispered.
"Yes,b-but I-I-like it."
Her trembling honesty was as appealing as the incredible sensation of being inside her. He ran his hands through her hair, caressing her delicate little ears, her cheeks, her lips. She gazed up at him with absolute trust and adoration, her eyelids flickering down as he cautiously began to move. She buried her face into his shoulder, while her palms pushed against his buttocks, urging him on. He became lost in it, forgetting about hurting her as he gave in to the demands of his own body. She breathed his name into his ear, whispering pleasure and encouragement.
Together, as she had foretold, they were magic.
"See!" Fate murmured, her tone both sleepy and triumphant. "I told you there would be magic."
Kent patted her shoulder indulgently. "So you did," he agreed. If she wanted to call it magic, she could go right ahead and do it. In the dim light of the little hut, with the wind hushing sighs around them, with her soft body pressed against him, the air itself seemed to tingle, and it was almost possible to believe she was right. "Go to sleep now," Kent encouraged. "You're not supposed to talk after making love."
She leaned up on an elbow to look at him, her brow slightly furrowed,
her eyes still hinting of wonder. "Why not?"
"Because it always turns into either a performance review or a motivational dissertation, either of which usually leads to some kind of argument. It's better all around if everyone just shuts up."
"It's a strange custom, but okay." Faye brushed a kiss over his cheek, slid away from him and threw back the edge of the blanket.
Kent reached out a hand to hold on to her. "Where are you going?"
"Back to my own bed."
He snuggled her down against him. "Rule number two—you have to spend the night. It's rude to run off."
"All right." She slid over to flick off the lantern and rolled onto her side, with her back to him. "Good night."
"Not like that!" he said, exasperated. "You're sup posed to cuddle. Get back here!"
"There sure are a lot of rules no one tells you about," Faye said with a sigh. She slid over and rested her silver-blond head on his chest.
Kent held Faye close in the pitch-blackness of the hut, smiling to himself. He usually enjoyed sex, but with her it had been an almost-mystical experience. It was probably because it was her first time, he reasoned. The wonder and enjoyment she'd felt had been transmitted to him. "Are you all right?" he asked after a few minutes. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"
"Oh, no!" she breathed. "I feel… marvelous."
"Good," he muttered. The pleasure in her voice assuaged the slight twinge of guilt he felt at taking her virginity. She'd wanted it to happen as much as he had, and it didn't sound like she was going to have any regrets in the future. Unless… He had another thought—one he should have had before—and groaned. "Faye?"
"Hmm?"
"We… uh… weren't what you'd call careful, here. Is there any chance…?"
She yawned, her breath fluttering against his chest. "Don't worry about that. We won't have a child together."
Kent found it hard to believe that Faye had given the matter even one second of consideration. "Are Ayaldwodes in charge of conception, as well?"
"No, but you are."