Heart and Soul

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Heart and Soul Page 15

by Shiloh Walker


  Just one day. If he could have just one day with her . . .

  Sliding his hands down her sides, over the slight flare of her hip, he caught her legs around the ankles. Pushing her legs high and wide, he settled more firmly against her and palmed her ass in his hands.

  Her flesh was warm and firm. Under him, her body tensed, and he could scent the orgasm rising inside her. Her heartbeat sped up, and the sweet scent of her body seemed to grow hotter, sweeter. As she started to clench around him, Malachi gritted his teeth and pulled away, rolling her onto her belly and pulling her to her knees.

  He pushed inside. Bracing her hips with one hand, he fisted the other hand in her hair and used the silken locks to pull her torso upward. He wrapped one arm around her, palming a breast in his hand. From over her shoulder, he watched as his fingers pinched a blushing pink nipple.

  “Say my name,” he muttered against her ear.

  She moaned, the sound low and husky. Her arms came up, wrapping around his neck. “Please,” she whispered, pushing her butt back against him.

  Malachi just slowed his thrusts and held her still by closing a hand around her hip. In a demanding voice, he said it again: “Say my name.”

  She did, the word fallen from her lips in a broken moan. With a harsh curse, Malachi fell forward, crushing her into the mattress. Pushing deep, he felt the head of his cock butting against the mouth of her womb.

  The satin-soft sheath of her pussy clenched and spasmed, rippling around his cock, stroking him with an intense, milking caress. She cried out his name again, and the sound of it was enough to drive him over the edge. His cock jerked viciously as he started to come, driving deep and hard.

  The climax raged through him, dragging out endlessly as she cried and shivered under him. But even as he emptied himself, he felt unfulfilled.

  Mal rolled to his side, bringing her with him, his arms wrapped tight around her. “I cannot keep doing this,” he muttered, burying his face in her sweat-dampened curls.

  “You’ve told me that a thousand times,” she responded, sounding unconcerned as she caressed his arm with the tip of her fingers.

  “And sooner or later, I shall have the strength of will to stay away.” How, he didn’t know. He couldn’t control these dreams at all, couldn’t keep himself from having them, couldn’t break away once they started. Not until she was done with him.

  Malachi pulled away from her and tried to force himself to wake from the dream, but she wouldn’t let him leave. As he sat on the edge of the bed, she came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his neck. She pressed her naked, warm body to his, the warmth of her flesh penetrating the deep chill of his own.

  “Don’t leave yet,” she murmured. “Stay with me.”

  “Why?” he asked wearily, staring ahead at the ugly gray wall in front of him. They were in his room, surrounded by unpainted walls. The only thing in the room was his bed, a mattress bare of any sheets or covers, thrown on the floor behind the stairs. It was dark, dank, and depressing.

  Basically, it suited his mood to a T.

  “I miss you,” she whispered. “You avoid seeing me for so long.”

  “I do not see you.” Bitterness ate at him, and he tried once more to pull away. This time, she let him go, and he moved away, sitting on the edge of the bed and staring at the floor. “I come, we fuck like minks, and then you let me go. What is there to miss?”

  “Why isn’t this enough for you?” she asked softly. “We are together. Isn’t that enough?”

  “After all this time?” Malachi lowered his head and buried his face in his hands. “No. After hundreds and hundreds of years, seeing you only in dreams, never seeing your face, never knowing your name, never being able to touch you outside of a damn dream? No. It’s not enough.”

  Shoving at the bonds of sleep, Malachi tried once more to pull away. She didn’t say anything, but the soft broken sound behind him made him pause.

  “Go on,” she said, her voice husky. “You do not wish to be with me. So go.”

  Malachi laughed. It was a harsh sound that echoed in the room and hurt his throat. “Do not wish to be with you? You are all I have ever wished for, ever longed for, and I’m damned to an eternity of knowing you only in dreams.”

  “But it is me.” Her hand stroked down his shoulder, and he reached up, covering it with his and squeezing. “You are with me now.”

  “Aye. I am with you now, but I need you for longer than a few dreams, for more than a fuck. I need all of you, and it is killing me inside, never truly having you.”

  It was killing him inside. In his heart, he knew he was barely even alive anymore. After each dream, each time he woke alone, a little more life drained from him.

  But Malachi knew he would continue to dream of her, whether he wanted to or not. Just as he knew, even if he finally did discover a way to stop dreaming of her, he wouldn’t do it.

  Malachi was too damned weak. He would take whatever pathetic scraps he could get.

  “PLEASE TELL ME THIS IS ANOTHER ONE OF YOUR SAD attempts at humor.”

  Kelsey stared into Tobias’ eyes as she spoke, but even as she said it, she knew he was serious. It wasn’t that he didn’t have a sense of humor. He did, but he was so serious, so solemn, that when he did make a joke, it was usually so obscure, only he understood the humor. But Kelsey knew, as odd as most Hunters were, even Tobias wasn’t this strange.

  Kelsey wouldn’t have been called to England unless Tobias was dead serious. Brendain was the home of the original Council. All serious Council issues were addressed here. The Council itself met at Brendain every other month, like clockwork. No more, unless there was emergency.

  Kelsey shouldn’t have needed to return to England for another month, easy. It wasn’t that she didn’t like being at Brendain. She did. Centuries old, Brendain was both awe-inspiring and comforting. Well, under most circumstances.

  Right now Kelsey didn’t feel at all comforted. She felt irritated and pissed off.

  “None of the others can even locate him, much less get close enough to speak with him,” Tobias said quietly. “I have a feeling you can.”

  Tobias was a quiet man, a strange one. Black hair, unreadable black eyes, surrounded by an aura of power that would unsettle most people, gifted or otherwise. Kelsey didn’t know what form he took when he shifted, but she could imagine he was one hell of a predator. That power was combined with an enigmatic quality that Kelsey hadn’t encountered very often. There was almost something fey about him.

  Even after knowing him for close to fifty years, she barely understood him.

  All that aside, Kelsey trusted him, completely and implicitly. And she knew he did not ask for things lightly.

  But, damn it, wasn’t there somebody else he could ask?

  Kelsey looked down, staring at the huge russet and gold rug that covered the stone floors of the Council’s meeting room. It was priceless, several hundred years old, just like much of the furniture and art in Brendain. But try as she might to focus on it, the lovely rug couldn’t hold her attention. Feeling Tobias staring at her, she looked up at him with a glare.

  Propping her hands on her hips, she lifted her chin and met his black eyes. Through gritted teeth, she said, “I probably could.”

  Arching a black brow, Tobias simply stared at her, waiting. The look in his black eyes assured her he would wait forever, if he had to.

  Kelsey was patient. And under most circumstances, she was calm and steady. But Tobias was one of few who made her feel nervous and unsure of herself.

  More than seventy years old—and he could look at her and make her feel like she was ten years old. Spinning on her heel, she stalked over to the huge window that dominated the southern wall. She pressed her forehead to the cool pane of glass and closed her eyes.

  Go after Malachi.

  She didn’t want to see Malachi. He bothered her. And it had nothing to do with the fact that she’d nearly sent them both up in flames a few months ago. Malachi had bothe
red her from the first time she’d seen him over ten years ago. Of course, there was also that damned dream from two nights ago, a dream that still dominated her thoughts.

  With a smirk, Kelsey wondered how it would look if she whined and tried to use that to get out of doing what Tobias wanted. I can’t go looking for him. Any time I even think of him, I get turned on. Then there’s this wet dream I had. One look at him, and I’m going to want to make the dream come true. Make somebody else do it.

  Yes, that was definitely the way to handle her responsibilities.

  Blowing out a breath, Kelsey ran her hands over her hair and gathered the thick curls in a loose tail at her nape. Do your job.

  It wasn’t like she didn’t understand Tobias’s request. She did.

  They needed Malachi.

  Nessa’s seat on the Council still sat empty. Malachi wouldn’t return any of the messages that were sent after him. The remaining four Council members were damned good Hunters, but they were young. Among them, only Tobias had seen more than two centuries.

  So far, they had not found one suitable candidate to replace Nessa. Grief wrenched her heart. Replace Nessa . . . That would be impossible.

  But her seat on the Council had to be filled.

  There had been one witch they had spoken of that would have done a damned fine job. But he’d refused. Several possible candidates had been contacted and would be traveling to Brendain, but Kelsey knew they were months away from having a complete Council. And if Malachi didn’t return—no. She wasn’t going to think of that. He would return.

  It was just going to take a while.

  Kelsey closed her eyes and blew out a harsh breath of air. She had to do it. There was no way around it.

  “Fine. I’ll find him.” Sending Tobias a dark look over her shoulder, she said, “You realize this is probably a waste of time. He’ll come back when he’s ready.”

  Tobias cracked a rare grin. “I know. But I’d like some inkling when that might be. Wouldn’t you?”

  MALACHI DIDN’T WANT VISITORS.

  Bugger—he certainly didn’t want this visitor. Especially not on the heels of a dream about his ephemeral dream lover. His temper was still raw from it, and he ached to feel soft, warm flesh against his own.

  Even under the best of circumstances, Kelsey Cassidy was entirely too warm, entirely too appealing. She was hard enough to deal with when all she did was haunt his thoughts. He didn’t need her there in the soft, sweetly scented flesh to make it worse. Especially after what had happened the last time he’d seen her.

  He’d touched that silky flesh—probably left bruises—when she’d stepped between him and Leandra. She’d left burns on him when she used fire to stop him. They had faded quickly enough; it was too damn bad he couldn’t say the same for his memories.

  But it wasn’t the burns on his own flesh that bothered him. It had been seeing the ugly red blisters on her flesh.

  Hell, she should have flamed his ass until he was nothing more than ashes. At this point, he would have welcomed it.

  As she pounded on the door for the third time, Mal entertained the idea of simply leaving. It wasn’t exactly running away. Kelsey was better off staying away from him. It was better for both of them.

  But even as the thought was completed, Kelsey said in a level voice, “Open the damned door, Malachi, before I open it myself. I didn’t travel here and risk turning into an icicle just so you could ignore me.”

  Her voice carried as clearly as if she had been standing right in front of him. Through the solid oak door, he could hear the steady beat of her heart and faintly, he could smell the warm scent of her skin. It hit him in the gut like a vicious sucker punch.

  How in the hell could just the sweet perfume of her body affect him like this? Damn it, another woman could strip herself naked, and it still wouldn’t affect him like this. Bloody hell, it seemed she had a more powerful effect on him than the nameless, faceless woman of his dreams.

  That lady made him hungry, made him want, but when he woke up and left her behind, those needs faded away, and she didn’t crowd his thoughts. But Kelsey—she crowded him, all right. Right now, his skin felt tight and an electric buzz rushed through his system, just from her being so close.

  Kelsey made him feel alive.

  And he didn’t really care for it.

  But she also wasn’t going to leave until she did whatever the hell it was she had come here for. Swearing hotly under his breath, he threw the door open and glared at her.

  She met his glare with one of her own, her pretty hazel-gold eyes narrowed, her soft mouth a tight, angry line.

  “If I had wanted company, I would have sent out invitations,” he barked.

  “And here I was, hoping we could have a nice little tea party,” Kelsey snarled back. Her irritated tone might have carried a little more weight if her teeth hadn’t been chattering violently.

  Although she hadn’t stood outside more than a couple of minutes, the cold of the Alaskan winter had sunk inside her bones, and she looked frozen. Reaching out, he closed a hand over her elbow and pulled her inside. Without letting go of her arm, he slammed the door closed.

  Then he dragged her over in front of the fire. Without saying a word, he turned away and knelt in front of the crackling flames, tossing another log on and jabbing at it with the poker. Sparks flared, and flames began to lick at the wood as he stood up.

  Crossing his arms in front of him, he stared at her and waited.

  She was ignoring him. As always. She stripped away her coat, a sweater, a scarf, tossed her woolen hat on the couch, and crouched down to deal with her boots.

  “What do you want?” he finally asked as she continued to remain silent.

  Before answering, she moved a little closer to the fire. “The Council has been looking for you.”

  “Really,” he drawled with complete disinterest.

  “They wish to speak with you,” she said.

  Was it him, or did she sound just a little irritated?

  “Well, I’ve no wish to speak with them, sweet. You can go now.”

  Oh, yes, she was irritated. She turned away from the fire, her pretty eyes flashing. “You are part of the Council, Malachi. You can’t just ignore them when it doesn’t appeal to you.”

  Cocking a brow at her, he leaned against the mantel and studied her. “No?”

  Her lips flattened into a grim line as she bit off, “No.”

  “I will not return to Brendain,” Malachi said. Her eyes met his, and he added, “Not now. Maybe never.”

  They’d been looking for him. He knew it—knew he should have sent some sort of message. But since Agnes’s death, he simply didn’t care about the Council and the causes he had spent so much of his life fighting for.

  Very little mattered to him anymore. He wondered if anything mattered.

  Then Kelsey spoke, her voice soft, sad. And he knew there was still one thing that mattered. Or at least one person.

  “They need you, Mal.” She looked away, staring at the wall. “We need you.”

  “I’ve given the Council enough of my life. I cannot keep giving when there’s nothing left.”

  He watched as she turned away from the fire and moved toward him, her eyes sad. “So you plan to spend the rest of your life in solitude?”

  Malachi lowered his gaze and stared at his hands. In his mind’s eye, he saw what had happened just a few months earlier. All she had been trying to do was keep him from doing something he would regret the rest of his cursed life.

  He had grabbed her, had dug his fingers hard into her soft white flesh. He could remember how fragile her bones had felt under his hands, the heat of the fire she’d called, fully prepared to turn them both to cinders.

  “It’s more than just Agnes’s death, Kelsey. More than a thousand years of serving the bloody Council, and those are just the years since I started keeping track,” he murmured, shaking his head. “I’ve served the Council for so long, I barely remember a life outsid
e it. I’ve lost more friends than I can count. I am empty. Apart from the Council, I am no one. I have nothing.”

  “You have your friends.”

  Malachi smiled, a sad, bitter smile. “Friends that I can no longer face, Kelsey. Do you think I can look at Leandra again after what I did to her? To you? I can hardly stand to look at myself, much less a friend.”

  She stood in front of him now, and he could barely bring himself to look into her eyes while the guilt flooded him. Stepping to the side, he tried to go around her, but she reached out, closing a hand around his arm. He stood frozen in his tracks. Her thumb stroked up and down the inside of his arm, and he found himself staring at her hand, mesmerized by that slow, gentle stroking.

  Malachi could count on one hand the number of times she had voluntarily touched him, and still have fingers left over.

  “You are needed, Malachi.”

  Need—

  She spoke of the Council’s need for him. Aye, he knew they were floundering now, all of the remaining members young. Was there one among them who was fully prepared for the responsibility of governing over the legions of Hunters? One who could handle supervising the rest of the gifted men and women of the world?

  If they hadn’t so recently lost Agnes, his absence wouldn’t be felt so much. But without them both, he knew they were in trouble. Tobias was capable, smart, and dedicated. As was Kelsey. But the Council was a responsibility meant to be shared by more than one or two people. And he doubted the other two who served alongside Tobias and Kelsey were prepared.

  Niko and Andreas were hardly equipped for the responsibility that had been thrown at them. Malachi had suspected as much when they were appointed, but that had been before . . . Grief once more ripped through him as he thought of Nessa.

  “You are needed, Malachi.”

  Malachi wondered if Kelsey even understood the word.

  He did. He’d been living with a need for her for a decade now, a need that would go unanswered. Malachi seemed to be damned to spend his life needing women he could never have.

 

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