by Fawn Lowery
Marcus smiled at her. “It was not a bad thing, my sweet. Drucella rid the world of a monster.”
She drew nearer, her curiosity peaked at his words. “You speak well of Drucella? Only earlier you called her a hag—“
“She sentenced me to imprisonment—a fate worse than death. And my brothers, she sought them out and sentenced them as well. She hates vampires.”
A blond brow rose. “Then why didn’t she kill you and your brothers?”
“She chose to imprison us instead—to impose her will upon us.”
“Then she could awaken any of you at any time?”
He shook his head. “Witches are not immortal.”
“I see.” She locked gazes with him. “But you have the power to make others immortal—like yourself. Why didn’t you make Drucella immortal so that she might have at some time awakened you and your brothers?”
His black gaze bored into hers. “Because I did not love Drucella.”
His words wrapped around her heart. A tiny part of her subconscious had somehow feared that he was asking her to interfere in a lovers’ quarrel even though he had denied it earlier. Now, the intensity in his voice spoke otherwise. And she believed him.
A wave of peace settled inside her. She sighed and allowed herself to turn loose the worry lurking at the back of her mind. Had she begun to have feelings for Marcus—this vampire who had suddenly come into her life?
“That is why we had to return to this time—because now Drucella lives and only she knows where my brothers are imprisoned. We must find them and set them free. You must awaken them as only a witch can do.”
“But how do you know that I could wake them? Are you certain Drucella’s spell is bound only by the curse of witchcraft? Are you certain your brothers aren’t dead?”
“She told me she was sentencing them to the same fate as she was sentencing me and that only the touch of another witch would break the spell. Ronna, you are meant to awaken my brothers—as you awakened me.”
She felt her cheeks flush. The thought of placing her hand on his brothers’ cocks and breaking the witch’s spell sent a rush of embarrassment traveling through her insides.
He chuckled. “You must help them, Ronna. You must awaken them—no matter the method. It is your witch’s powers that will break the curse. Please say that you will help them?”
Ronna strode toward the end of the great room. Beyond the window high on the wall, daylight was nearing. The sky was growing lighter by the minute.
“Is it true that you must sleep in the daytime? Is it true that you cannot stand the rays of the sun to touch your skin?” She turned to face him, sitting nude, bound in the large wooden chair, his muscled body beckoning to her. “Marcus, is it true that you must go into the earth to sleep?”
“The earth is my sanctuary. But I am not like some mole that must burrow into the earth—I sleep beneath the earth because of its darkening capability.” He sighed. “My chamber lies in the lower level of this fortress. It is secure and I am safe there.”
“You fear for your safety?”
A tiny smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Thank you for feeling concern for me, Ronna. It is true. I fear for my safety. Drucella lives and I am certain she knows that I have been awakened.”
Ronna pulled in an audible breath.
“She will come looking for me. And she will not be happy to find you in my home when she arrives. You must be on guard.”
A quiver of fright snaked up Ronna’s spine. She crossed the room to Marcus and kneeled before the chair. “Earlier, when I tried to break the fire spell on the book, I saw the face of a woman. I sensed she was very angry.”
“Drucella is ruthless.”
She stared at him, fighting the urge to touch him, to reach out her hand and caress his naked chest, to lower her fingers to his swollen manhood. He had told her much, answered all her questions, with the exception of one.
“Marcus, did Drucella punish you because you did not return her love?” She bit her bottom lip and waited for his answer.
His laden sigh echoed in the quiet room. “We were both young and quite foolish. She had just taken the head of the coven and felt compelled to exercise her exalted powers. She felt she possessed me. I merely saw her as the witch she was. I did not love her. And when I rejected her, she cursed me. By that time, she had already destroyed Darrias and knew of my turning. It was a vengeful act against me, but then she decided to hurt me further by involving my brothers.”
“Marcus, the face of the woman I saw—she was very beautiful.”
“I was not taken by her beauty.”
Ronna stared at him. “You and she were lovers?”
He nodded his head. “Yes.”
Perhaps you seduced her—like you seduced me.
There can be no comparison.
“She is still in love with you.”
He stared at her. “She hates me. Else she would not have cast her spell on me.”
Ronna smiled though the action didn’t reach her eyes.
“You are ignorant in the ways of love. A woman scorned is a vicious demon—a force to be reckoned with. She cast her spell over you in an effort to make you see the error of your ways. She wanted to control your heart, Marcus—not your sleeping patterns.”
CHAPTER 7
His flesh was cool beneath her palm as she took hold of the rope binding his wrist. Her fingertips played across his skin as she released the knots. For all the time she had kept him confined in the chair, not once had he tried to free himself, though she held little doubt that he couldn’t have gotten loose with little effort—had he wanted to. She smiled as she worked on the knots. He had indulged her need to be in command.
Or else she had played into his hand without his having to command her.
Ronna, trust me.
She paused, her hands on the rope at his wrist. A slight smile played across her lips. Her insides burned for him. Her breasts were thrusting against the front of her cashmere sweater with an urgency born of need. Her crotch was moist and aching for his male cock to slip inside.
She resumed her work to release the knots in the bindings. He had little time before having to go below and slumber. She felt his urgency. Knew of his need to have her body before leaving her.
He moved suddenly, causing her to jump back. He caught her by the wrist and pulled her onto his lap. The remaining ties were lying on the floor beside the chair, him having gotten them off without further help from her. She grinned in knowing he had been indulging her. A chuckle sounded deep in her throat.
He trailed one hand beneath her sweater at her back and slid his palm up to the back of her head, tangling his fingers in the fall of hair at her nape. He urged her forward, tipping her head so he could claim her mouth. His lips was hot against hers, pressing tightly and urgently.
Ronna moaned and leaned against his chest, her hips settling across his lap and her hands going to his hard erection. She wound her fingers around the tall shaft, tightening her grip as she began to stroke him. Her fingers delved within the nest of dark hair surrounding his large balls. She circled each orb with her fingertips, making him gasp.
He forced his tongue inside her mouth, stroking her tongue and slicking along her gums. He played across her teeth, tasting her sweetness. He pressed her head back with the force of his kiss, driving his mouth against hers in intense possession. He moaned deep in his throat.
Ronna commanded her clothes be gone and instantly she was naked, perched atop Marcus' lap. Her breasts heaved with the exertion of her breathing—her nipples thrust forward in tight little buds begging for his hands. She pressed his erection toward her crotch as an intense feeling of need gripped her insides.
She let out a shuddering sigh as she fitted her wet crotch atop his towering shaft and slid hotly along its length, engulfing his organ inside her body. She pulled back, breaking their kiss and opening her mouth to gulp in a breath of air as the fullness of him exploded inside her body.
/> “You are so big!”
“You are tight.” He released a shuddering breath. “Your body holds mine like a tight glove. You were made for me to love.”
He moved suddenly, grasping her buttocks in his big hands. He thrust upward into her cavity with such force that she cried out.
She dug her nails into the hard muscles of his shoulders, holding on as he moved rapidly in the wooden chair. She relinquished her body to his movements, clinging to his strength for the orgasm she knew he could reap from her.
The firelight played across their naked flesh, kissed their heated skin with amber lights. Sweat beaded on Ronna’s back and buttocks, her muscles tensed and released with every thrust of Marcus' powerful body. She hunched her hips and rode the rampaging ardor building inside her.
Passion exploded in a crescendo of spiraling electrical shocks racing along her nerve endings. A multitude of tingling sensations overtook her emotions and caused her to close her eyes, to sigh deeply, to knot her belly as tight waves of ecstasy engulfed her senses.
Marcus released his wad inside her, gripping her buttocks tightly in his hands as he drove his shaft in to the hilt. He rose upward out of the chair, cradling her body against his chest as he climaxed. He drove his mouth down on hers, sealing their coming together with a force that belied definition.
He carried her across the room, her naked torso clinging to his as the orgasm still lingered inside her. He mounted the stone staircase.
Ronna’s breathing was erratic, her eyes closed in total abandon. She had never experienced orgasms like Marcus could deliver. Her whole body felt alive, on fire with possession and passion running rampant along her limbs. Her belly curled with waning sensations that warmed and heated her insides.
She felt the chill of the upper floor as Marcus carried her down the long hallway to the bedroom she had awakened in. She clung to him, not wanting him to separate his body from hers. Pale daylight lit the small room as he entered the door and crossed to the bed. He lowered her to the mattress, his mouth finding hers in a goodnight kiss that ended too soon and left her wanting more.
He waved a hand and renewed the fire before he disappeared from the room, leaving Ronna tucked beneath the sheepskin fleece in the middle of the bed. The door creaked on its metal hinge as he left her. Her eyes closed in needed slumber as the room warmed and she drifted off to sleep.
* * * *
She awakened with a start. A noise beyond the stone walls beat into her subconscious. She jerked upright in the bed, her back paining from the lumpy mattress, and her heart racing with fright. What had awakened her?
She threw aside the fleece coverlet and swung her bare feet to the floor. Shivering, she crossed the room to the window. The glass pane was covered with frost. She scraped her fingers across it, wiping away the concealing vapor to peer outside.
A wide courtyard lay below the window, spacious and covered with early morning frost. She craned her neck, looking from side to side in the cleared space on the window pane. A small village set nestled in a valley beyond the courtyard. She could see several people moving about amidst the thatched roofs.
I wonder if that is Morganford lying beyond the courtyard.
She peered through the window, realizing beyond any doubt that she had in some manner, traveled back in time. She was no longer in Brooklyn. There were no high-rise buildings stabbing at the landscape or crowded lanes of traffic beyond the window. She felt her knees become weak.
She turned from the window, one hand clamped over her mouth.
This isn’t a bad dream.
She paced across the room, her eyes widening as she took in the small space. It was primitive beyond reason. The floor was bare, the small bed sagging and fashioned out of tree limbs. A clay urn and washbowl sat on a small table near the bed. She sucked in a quick breath and turned toward the hearth at the far end of the room. The fire had burned itself out.
The thought that she had to save herself—get back to civilization, as she knew it—came full force in her mind. She conjured up jeans, a sweater, and warm boots for her cold feet then crossed the floor to the door. The place was appalling. Never in her worst nightmares had she dreamed of such a desolate place.
She hurried from the room, rushing down the winding hallway to the top of the stairs. Last night’s account of Marcus and his revealing story of his life filled her mind. He had warned her to be on guard against Drucella, the witch who had imprisoned him in the suit of armor—
She shook her head, sending her hair bounding across her shoulders. God forbid she should meet an angry witch—especially one so adept at her craft that she could cast a spell that imprisoned a vampire for centuries. She couldn’t contain the shudder of fear that raced up her spine.
The great room was empty and, just as she feared, it existed. The hearth blazed in the end of the room, the long table flanked with numerous chairs sat before it, and the walls were adorned with heavy tapestries. She gazed about, biting her bottom lip.
Reality is so cruel.
She crossed the room to a heavy wooden door and lifted the latch. A loud squeak echoed into the room as she pulled it back on its hinges. A blast of icy air surged inside, engulfing her body. She gasped and stepped through the opening.
The courtyard was barren, dirt moist with morning dew rustled beneath her boots. Glancing about, she spied several people working near one of the outbuildings at the side of the courtyard. She crossed her arms about her body, hesitating.
Should she ask someone for help—or accept the fact that she hadn’t dreamed the whole episode?
She looked beyond the courtyard and the outbuildings, past the rows of houses nestled in the valley below. The surrounding countryside was a wasteland. Winter pallor embraced the trees and pastures as far as the eye could see. She turned suddenly and gazed at the structure at her back. Marcus' home was indeed a fortress, a towering two story stone building with turrets at one end and tiny high windows along its gray façade.
“Holy shit!”
The feeling of complete abandon rose inside her body as an icy blast of wind chilled her to the bone. She grasped the neck of her sweater and rushed back inside the building, slamming the door behind her.
“Of all the ridiculous situations to be in—“
Suddenly she felt something brush against her leg and glanced down, halting her angry words. A sleek black-coated cat pressed its side against her boot and turned a green eyed gaze upward. At first glance, she felt inclined to kick the cat then in the next instant, wondered why in hell she had such a thought. She loved animals, especially cats. She bent and smoothed her hand across the cat’s head and onto its back.
The cat arched its back against her palm and began to purr.
Ronna smiled. A measure of relief traveled through her insides. She stroked the black shiny fur, noticing that the animal appeared well tended. Perhaps it belonged to someone at the house. She rose from her stooped position beside the cat with intentions of putting it back outside when it suddenly leapt against her thigh, nearly knocking her down.
A bitter stench bubbled up, spewing forth in a rancid gush that stung Ronna’s nose and made her gag. She lurched back, separating herself from the cat, only to watch as the animal transformed. Sitting up on its haunches, it pawed the air with one front foot. Elongating its sleek body, it grew in height.
Ronna clutched her sweater at her breasts and backed further into the room. The animal had lost all semblance of the black cat she had allowed inside the house. It continued to grow in height and width until the figure of a woman stood in the floor. Long blond hair framed a cherub-like face with piercing green eyes and a bow mouth. A gown of purple silk reached to the floor and billowed around the form concealing the true shape of the woman.
“So, you have awakened the vampire.”
The voice spilled softly into the room as the green eyes latched onto Ronna’s face. She felt drawn forward, as though summoned by an unknown force. Instinctually, she fought the force
, calling on her witch’s powers to keep her distance.
Drucella!
The shrouded figure drew closer, traveling on seemingly invisible feet. She glided across the floor to stand before Ronna.
Ronna tried to contain her fright. She needed her wits about her should a volatile situation arise. She swallowed down her nervousness and met the witch’s stare with a steady gaze.
It was bad enough that she had awakened in that place—and now to be confronted by an angry witch—she wasn’t about to stand idly by and lose her life.
“Who are you?”
Her tone was demanding. Ronna stared at her, a number of answers coming to mind. But then she realized that she already knew she was a witch—else Marcus would still be imprisoned inside the suit of armor. A wave of homesickness washed over her insides. If only she hadn’t gone into that antique shop—
“Who are you?”
Ronna realized her anger had increased. She moved closer to her and she retreated a step.
“You are not of my coven.” Green eyes narrowed. The bow mouth drew downward into an angry scowl. “How dare you release the vampire.” Her voice was a sharp hiss.
Ronna realized she would have to take a stand. She would have to refuse to be intimidated. She drew herself up to her full height, squared her shoulders, and gathered her courage.
“You must be Drucella.” She stepped to the side, making Drucella whirl around to face her.
Drucella raised one arm and immediately Ronna cast a spell to make her arm useless. It fell to the witch’s side as Drucella let out an audible huff of air.
“We can’t be nice?” Her tone was condescending.
Drucella chuckled loudly, tipping back her head she bellowed into the room. “So your powers are not great. Should you risk death to defend Marcus?”
A smile pulled Ronna’s full lips upward at the corners. “He told me about you.”
“While you were locked in the throes of passion? While his long cock was thrusting inside your hot body? While his male juices were being released inside you?”