Modern Magic
Page 152
“We must keep moving. It’s not safe,” Jared said, urging her forward. “There’s a cave with warmth just ahead.”
Erin pulled back and blinked. The battling creatures disappeared, leaving only angry clouds, drenching rain, and punishing hail whipped by a roaring wind. Then a bolt of lightning cut across the sky, coming right at her.
“Erin!” Jared shouted.
She imagined it was like staring at a bullet about to hit her right between the eyes. Jared plowed into her, knocking her to the ground, covering her body with his body. The lightning zinged and struck the earth right next to them. She screamed as pain ripped through her and she shuddered into a dark abyss.
Chapter Seven
Relieved to escape the confines of Shashur’s inflated ego for at least a few minutes, Cinatas cursed as he stepped from the white-gold Hummer limo into the miserable rain. He turned up his Burberry collar against the draft and adjusted the brim of his hat to see. Storms had delayed his flight from New York to the Tri-City Airport and grounded his helicopter, making the trip an exercise in torture.
Erin Morgan was turning into a thorn in his side and his men were proving to be incompetent fools. They had so many Hummers and trucks parked on the side of the road that Cinatas had to walk a quarter mile upon the greasy filth of road to reach the gathered men. Carrying a red pocketbook, Manolo, his security chief, parted from the crowd and met him partway.
“Tell me, Manolo. If you see a horde of flies all in one spot, do you pass by without a second look, or do you glance to find out if they’re on a pile of shit or a corpse?”
“Enough said, sir. Forgive me. I got caught up in trying to figure out what is wrong with every bloodhound we called in that I hadn’t realized we’d gathered such a crowd.” He held out the red purse. “Erin Morgan won’t get far without this.”
“Put it in the limo when we’re done,” Cinatas said, after a long stare. He barely restrained himself from wrapping the purse straps around Manolo’s throat. Whether it was prized information or not, walking around with a handbag killed image. “What’s wrong with the bloodhounds? I expected you’d have her by now. They can’t have gotten far.”
“We’ve two action teams scouting the woods, but haven’t turned up any sign of them so far. By all reports, the man lit out of here at a fast clip, carrying the woman. I’m assuming she was injured in the crash. So he couldn’t have gone far. We think they’ve found a cave to hole up in. But every damned hound that takes a whiff of the car goes whimpering into a corner and won’t budge.”
“Really,” Cinatas said, thinking fast and going with his instinct. He glanced back, assuring himself that Shashur was still out of the way. “Send the hounds home. I don’t want to call attention to the problem. Tell everyone the hounds couldn’t pick up the trail.”
The only time Cinatas had seen dogs behave like that was in Pathos’s wake. Was it possible that another entity just as powerful as Pathos had appeared? Cinatas’s pulse kicked up a notch at the pleasing possibility. “Where’s her car? We need to eliminate it.”
“Up in the hayloft of the barn. You’ll need a crane to get it out. We’re still not sure why the loft hasn’t collapsed. Must be the oak beams supporting it.”
“Remove the license plates. Clear everyone out and torch the barn. As far as the world is concerned, Erin Morgan has disappeared. Call on all resources necessary, I want them found before anyone else sees them. And I want them both alive.”
“Consider it done. We’ve one other problem.”
“What?”
“There’s a dead man on the side of the road where Morgan’s tracking device was knocked off.”
“Does he have anything to do with her or us?”
“Not that we know.”
“Then leave him where he can be easily found and we’ll see what develops. With a corpse to investigate, the locals aren’t going to be too concerned about an old barn burning down.” Disgusted but pleased, Cinatas returned to the limo. Careful not to contaminate the alabaster interior with his shoes, he shed them on the street. Then, making certain water droplets from his coat splattered Shashur, he ditched his coat and hat on the empty seat across from him.
“Well?” Shashur said.
“Nothing. Seems as if Erin Morgan has managed to escape again.”
“Only until nightfall. The damned are so much more competent than you mortals.”
Cinatas smiled, seeing in his mind’s eye Shashur on his knees, begging for life. He could barely wait for the day.
A monkish chant—or was it more of a wolf’s low cry?—called to Erin, luring her from the pleasure she wanted to fly away to. She felt weird, warm in some places and oddly cold and wet in others. Part of her ached like a mega flu bug had taken a bite out of her hide—make that several chunks—and part of her felt too pleasant to be real. Her head throbbed with a vengeance again and an all-over heaviness weighed upon her, as did a worrying sense that she needed to do something very important. Yet she couldn’t move. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to try. She’d seen the otherworldly light again. But this time it had been brighter, more beautiful, and so soothingly welcoming that she hadn’t been aware of anything else.
“Erin.” The deep voice vibrated through her, calling to her. “Erin.”
She drew a breath and had the oddest sensation that she hadn’t been breathing until then. Her heart squeezed painfully, then pounded as if it had beats to make up for. Her thoughts were like thick clouds—obscurely dense from a distance and disappearing into a wispy mist when she grasped for one.
“You’ve returned to me.” Even though it was almost a whisper, the passion filling his voice shook her. “I’m forsaken, but not yet damned.”
Jared! Her mind shouted. Memory sent her eyes fluttering open to meet his intense gaze, his face mere inches from hers in a dimly lit place. He held her cradled in his arms, her head resting against his right shoulder as he leaned over her, his full mouth grim and his brow furrowed with deep concern. Even though he was wet, heat radiated from him, warming her chilled body. He smelled of rain and the antiseptic she’d applied to his burn before bandaging it.
The storm raged, but no rain fell on them, telling her he’d found shelter.
Her insides trembled and her nerves tingled. She felt as if she was awakening from numbness to an over-sensitized level of awareness. She groaned, immediately recalling the creatures battling in the heavens, the iridescent blood that had rained from the supernatural battle, the lightning, and then the pain.
This time, Jared had moved faster than lightning itself to save her from a direct hit. The agony that had ripped through her after the bolt hit the ground had to have been electricity. Too many weird things were happening, and more and more, Jared was a part of them in some strange way and not an accidental encounter.
Throat dry and words slurring, she rasped her questions. “What happened? Who and what were those fighting creatures in the sky? Who are you? How did you move faster than lightning?”
His eyes widened in an expression that said, You’ve seen something you shouldn’t, not What in the hell are you talking about?
Move over X-Files, there’s a new weird in town. She wasn’t going to take it lying down. She tried to sit up, but dizziness washed over her as her head throbbed almost unbearably. She groaned.
“You’re hurt.”
“My head. This past week I’ve had headaches that even Ben & Jerry’s triple raspberry fudge can’t fix. Believe me, I have the pharmacy bill and the added pounds to prove it.”
“Where?”
“Where what?” If he couldn’t see where the added pounds were, she wasn’t going to point them out.
“Where does your head hurt?”
“All over, but here is where I hurt the most.” She touched her eyes, then her temples, careful to avoid the cut on her left one. The skin there was swollen and tender.
Jared brushed Erin’s hands aside and placed his palms against her head, pressing as he clo
sed his eyes to focus his being on hers. Her hair was damp, but still soft, as was her skin. And even though he held her in his arms, even though he knew he’d won against the darkness that had tried to steal her from this life, it wasn’t enough. He wanted more than just to hold her. He wanted to know all of those things that his desire for her urged him to explore.
Inside, he felt as if he was still out in the storm, knowing she was about to be struck by a lightning bolt from Heldon’s Fallen Army. His heart still thundered, and his stomach twisted and turned like a wind battered twig. He’d been standing near her and had almost failed to protect her.
Was there a reason he’d been condemned instead of being executed?
Did Logos have a plan? No other mortal had ever seen him before, but Erin saw him in his Blood Hunter’s cloak last night. Her horrified expression had distracted him in his fight with the Tsara. Meeting her golden gaze through the cracked windshield had been the first time he’d ever looked a mortal in the eye and he’d been unprepared for the depth of her soul. That one look had cost him his own.
As far as he knew, mortals were blissfully ignorant of the horror in the spirit world. No mortal he’d ever protected had seen him, or the Guardian Forces battling Heldon’s Army, but she had. Was there one last task he was needed for? It seemed so. He’d protect Erin for as long as he could. As a Shadowman he’d been bound within the spirit realm, as were all of the Guardian Forces with few exceptions. Maybe Logos needed a Blood Hunter made mortal to be at Erin’s side to help her fight the predator she faced.
Jared didn’t believe for a moment that Aragon would be so foolish to chance a Blood Hunters soul on a possibility of redemption. Not after what happened to Pathos. Not after what Pathos had done in his Blood Hunter’s cloak to mortals before descending into Heldon’s lair. The brutality of Pathos’s werewolf attacks still haunted the mortal world today, though a thousand years had passed. And Pathos’s leadership in the Vladarian Order had completely warped Logos’ truth on Earth, bringing much darkness to the world.
Jared couldn’t let that happen to him. Already the Tsara’s poison grew stronger. Every breath he drew served as a growing reminder of the sweet purity of Erin’s Chosen blood and sharpened his need. He had never understood how Pathos had gone from protecting mortals to tearing them apart in the twinkle of an eye. Now a part of Jared, a still small but rapidly growing part of him, understood Pathos bloodlust with a sickening clarity.
Holding Erin close to him helped ease the blood hunger, but also fed another. She never failed to cause changes to his fleshly form with her nearness, and his desire to meld his mortal body to hers was becoming a driving passion, almost as strong as his hunger for her blood.
In the spirit world he’d never bound his spirit with another because such chains made a warrior weak. So as much as he wanted to experience a mortal melding with Erin, experience all that he’d never known and now craved, he couldn’t afford it. Only unbound spirits made effective warriors, and he needed his warrior strength to fight the Tsara’s poison as long as possible.
But how could he stay strong when her very nearness made him weak, made him crave intimacy? He closed his eyes and tried to call upon everything good that yet remained in his spirit to help her. He felt the throbbing ache in her head and eased it. He felt the exhaustion weighing heavily upon her body and strengthened her. He felt the fear and the worry in her spirit and sent his comfort around her. Then something else deep within her called to him, and he sent his mind deeper into her spirit. There he found a very lonely part of her that yearned for the passion of another. That yearning sent his blood surging, hardening his desire for her to an excruciating point.
In his mind he saw himself melding his lips to the tender fullness of her lips and delving into the passionate warmth of her mouth. He felt his hands exploring the soft curves of her feminine flesh, feasting upon the sensations of exploring her body with his. Then he saw himself driving all of his hard desire into the depths of her, totally melding his spirit to hers in a life-generating explosion of pleasure.
He groaned deeply at the fire coursing through him and opened his eyes to gaze into Erin’s. She was staring at him, her golden eyes dark with desire. Her lips were parted as if waiting for his.
He groaned again, unable to deny himself just once the feel of her lips upon his. Sliding his hands from her temples to cup her cheeks in his palms, he bent his head toward hers and pressed his mouth to hers. Instead of leaning into him and opening to his caresses as he knew she desperately wanted, she pushed against his chest.
“How did you do that?” she whispered. “How did you take away the pain? How did you warm me inside? It was as if you were there inside me, and we were…”
He sighed, dropping his hands, thankful she’d called his warriors spirit back from a ledge that would have only weakened him more. “Spirits made mortal have the strength and abilities that mortals have slowly lost over the ages.”
Erin shook her head, trying to figure out what had just happened between her and this strange man. He’d taken away her pain like some miracle healer. She’d felt the energy of him inside her, as if by his touch he’d eased part of himself into her mind . . . and further. She felt as if he’d made love to her, kissed her, touched her, buried himself so hot and deep inside her that even now she quivered from the experience.
Careful not to injure his bandaged shoulder, Erin pushed herself up from Jared’s arms to crouch on the ground next to him. He had carried her to a small cave, deep enough to protect them from the storm yet shallow enough to catch a little light from the fading day. A few feet away, water steadily dripped from a stalactite into a pool about the size of large mixing bowl before disappearing into the rock. She shifted her gaze back to Jared.
“Who and what are you, Jared Hunter? What happened out there in the storm? What just happened now?”
He leaned toward her and said, “You must seek cover whenever you see a storm brewing. There are forces in the spirit world at work against you. You are in more danger than ever before.”
“What do you mean more than before?”
“Your near death experiences with the spirit world have weakened your protective aura. You are also in an area where the spirit barrier has been eroded by centuries of worship from the ancients. Such sacred places make you more vulnerable to the dark forces.”
She got the danger part, but the rest? “You’re saying those creatures I saw in the sky are gunning for me? No,” she said, forcing herself up on rubbery legs to stand. “I didn’t just ask that question. What I saw wasn’t real. I had to have suffered a headache-induced hallucination.” She threw her hands up as she paced the short distance across the cave. “This whole day hasn’t been real. Yesterday and last night did not happen. I am not in a cave right now with a miracle man talking about personal auras, spirit barriers, and creatures out to get me.”
And she hadn’t just had telepathic sex with him either.
Hell, the world had gone mad, and her scalp tingled with what seemed like a permanent itch.
She was vaguely identifying with Alice in Through the Looking Glass, even down to the rabbit hole she was now in. Except instead of a mad hatter or a racing rabbit, she had a tall, dark fantasy man wearing a yellow towel kilt who was capable of making love telepathically.
In some ways she still felt as if he were inside her . . . her mind, that is. The rest of her was as solid as Jell-O. Icy drops of water from the wet hem of her dress dripped down her legs, making her shudder. She desperately wanted a hot bath and a bed. Or better yet, she wanted to burrow back into his embrace, against his heat, and repeat that sensual journey she had to have imagined.
And she was certifiable to even have that thought at this moment.
Jared wasn’t doing much to help her, either. His attraction to her stood out loud in clear beneath the yellow towel as he stood facing her with a pained expression on his face.
Jared clenched his fist as frustration built within him. S
omething had changed between them since he searched her spirit and mind with his. He didn’t feel it until she pulled away from him and stretched the bond that seemed to have fused between their spirits. Her reaction confused him. He had sensed a yearning deep inside of her to meld herself with him. Yet after they’d melded, her spirit had run from him. He couldn’t decide if she feared herself or feared him. That and her disbelief oddly pained him, making him feel more vulnerable than ever before, a place no warrior should be.
He shook his head and rolled his shoulders, trying to shrug off the unfamiliar emotions. He either wanted to flee to the forest and run until the wind burned his face, or to deepen the bond between them by re-entering her spirit again.
He couldn’t do either. It was essential to build a greater trust between them and for her to believe in the reality he was revealing to her. Not doing so could get her killed.
How could he reach her? Would telling her more about the spirit world help her understand? Even though she kept rejecting the truth, she was still aware of it on some level.
Before he’d attacked the Tsara, he’d sensed something more potent about Erin’s blood. The Chosen were special, but Erin was even more so, though he didn’t know why. The fact that this doctor hunting her was involved in taking blood from mortals raised red flags in his mind. Any time blood was involved, Jared immediately thought of the Vladarian Order. There had to be a connection here.
Jared decided to be as truthful and direct as he could. Honesty and acceptance paved the pathway to trust. “You do not trust me, Erin. Why? Have I failed you in some way or been unworthy?”
Erin frowned at him then went to the opening of the cave and faced the falling rain. “It isn’t a matter of trust, Jared. It is a matter of reason.”
He clenched his jaw at the sharpening of the pain inside him. He could not escape the fact that her nearness eased the effects of the Tsara’s poison; the farther she moved away from him, the harder the Tsara’s poison hit. But it would seem more than physical distance between them caused this to happen. He realized that an emotional distancing had the same effect. This was new, as if the bond he’d forged by ministering to her had made this happen.