The Nightwind's Woman

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  Over six million years—and tens of thousands of times of finding himself locked in Naamah’s imprisoning arms—later, he was ready for his Blood-mate to arrive for he had begun to tire of sex. He no longer found it enjoyable or entertaining. It did not keep the loneliness or the depression away. He could do without pouring himself into a female’s body but he was finding it harder than hell to keep the despair at bay.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  “And now here you are,” he said to the sleeping woman on the bed.

  He closed his eyes, willed her to wake, and when she opened them, her beautiful green gaze met his. He rose from the chair and went to the bed. Unhurriedly he sat down beside her on the mattress and gently reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “What did you do?” she whispered, searching his eyes.

  He smiled.

  “I healed you, dearling.”

  “My heart?” she asked. “You healed my heart?”

  “Listen,” he said.

  Her eyebrows drew together in confusion, then as the faint sound of her heartbeat grew loud enough for her to hear, her face relaxed and her lips parted.

  “You put my heart back in rhythm,” she said, her voice filled with awe.

  “And it will stay thus,” he said. He could not stop himself from reaching for her hand, taking it between his. “I will always take care of you, McKenzi.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the underside of her wrist.

  She was watching him intently—her gaze never straying from his face. He willed all fear of him, all unease to leave her. He didn’t replace it with anything else just simply took away her anxiety at his nearness.

  “Wh-what time is it?” she asked.

  “Close to ten of the clock,” he answered. “At midnight, your world will change entirely.”

  Disquiet flashed through her eyes. “How?” she asked. “How will it change?”

  “You and I will Join,” he said.

  Her gaze faltered, jerked to the left then came back to his. “What does that mean?”

  He leisurely, tenderly stroked her hand. “You will become my bride.”

  Her eyes widened. “Wh-what?”

  “You are my Blood-mate, McKenzi,” he said softly. “We were destined to be husband and wife. I will love and honor you, see to your protection and render unto you the blessing of forever time.”

  “The blessing of what?” she asked but he didn’t want to answer. He was afraid if he did, it would frighten her.

  “I cannot stay upon this plane nor can I take you with me to mine but I will come as often as I can to be with you,” he said. “When I am not with you, the Nightwind will be your sworn protector and—” He had to force himself to say it. “Your lover so you will not know being alone in this life.”

  She blinked. “You would be all right with that?” she asked, obviously stunned by his words. “To allow your wife to be with another man?”

  “I cannot ask you to remain celibate,” he replied. “I will not be. It is not a natural state for man or woman. The Nightwind has taken a blood oath to the women of your line and he believes you belong entirely to him. That is not the case and it angers him but the Fates made Their decision on our union long before he was a glint in his father’s eye. He will be here with you when I cannot be. He will be your champion, your guardian.”

  “My guardian,” she repeated. “I don’t need a guardian.” She lifted her chin. “You make him sound like a…a…warden.”

  He grinned. “Trust me, dearling, I know all there is to know of wardens and the Nightwind will never be that to you. Should he presume to infringe upon your freedom, he will answer to me. Besides, you will have powers of your own after the Joining.”

  “I don’t know what that means and I don’t think I want to,” she said. She eased her hand from his grip. “I’m not ready for marriage and even if I were, I don’t know you and you aren’t…” She winced. “Human.”

  “Human,” he repeated with a frown. “No, I’m not human, but then neither is the incubus and you gave yourself to him without so much as a single protest.”

  “Yes, but I’ve known him for…” She stopped as though realizing she was about to say something that wasn’t entirely true. She shook her head. “All of this is beyond my ability to process.”

  He watched her scoot away from him and leave the bed on the opposite side. She turned, wrapped her arms around herself and seemed to be trying to find the courage to ask him to leave.

  “I came here to work,” she said.

  “Aye, as did I,” he said. “But there is something more important that needs to be done.”

  The clock in the sitting room began to chime the half-hour and he knew he had little time to do what had to be done. An hour and a half wasn’t enough but he would not wait another day to seal them together. He stood. He regretted there was no time to court her, to woo her, to allow her to grow comfortable with him, but he would not lose her. She was his.

  He held out his hand. “McKenzi, come to me,” he bid her.

  “This is moving too fast,” she said, twisting her hands together. “I’m confused and I’m…I’m scared.”

  “Not of me,” he said. He came around the end of the bed. “There is no reason to fear me, dearling. I would rather pluck out my heart than cause you a moment of hurt.”

  “You’re asking me to take a leap of faith,” she said. “I’m not sure I can.”

  He lowered his hand, sensing she might consider it a threat. He tried to reassure her.

  “You are a beautiful woman and I want you. I have pledged my life to you. What more can I do to convince you we belong together?”

  She was attracted to him. Deeply. He sensed it. Knew it. He could smell her arousal. She was a sensual woman, not a prude, a modern Terran female who knew her own mind and yet she hesitated. He saw the disquiet in the way she was looking at him and yet her body was reacting strongly to his.

  It was well within the scope of his powers to make her come to him. All he need do was command and she would obey but he didn’t want to resort to that. He wanted her to come into his arms of her own accord.

  “Just lie with me,” he said. “Lie in my arms and let me hold you. I’ll do nothing that you are not comfortable with me doing.”

  Still she hesitated, stayed where she was with her fingers twisting and turning over one another. Her bottom lip was tucked charmingly between her teeth and her breath was fast, shallow.

  “Lie with me,” he asked again.

  Her eyes darted to the bed. “On top of the covers?” she asked.

  He put his hand over his heart in pledge. “Atop the covers.”

  “No hanky-panky? No funny stuff?”

  “Not unless it is what you want. I will be on my very best behavior.”

  She took a step closer to the bed but stopped when he kicked off his loafers and lifted his leg to put his knee on the mattress. She watched him sit down, put his back to the headboard and stretch out his legs. He was careful to move slowly.

  “Okay,” she said. He could hear her heart racing but it was with a normal, natural beat. She sat down gingerly on the bed and turned so she too could lean against the headboard. She folded her hands in her lap—looking prim and proper and virginal.

  He thought of the night he’d first lain with Naamah. How he had felt like a sacrificial lamb being led to slaughter. Slowly he reached over to take one of Kenzi’s hands, threaded his fingers through hers.

  “Let me tell you of my world,” he said softly as the clock struck the quarter hour.

  He told her of the ferocious hurricanes in the South. The fiery deserts in the West. The fierce seashores of the East and the frigid ice fields of the North. He told her of the cold, lightless landscape of the Abyss. Of his mother, her sisters—omitting the fact that one of them was at that very moment at Tearmann.

  “What about where you live?” she asked.

  “Prysson is an un
speakable place, dearling,” he said, flexing his fingers upon hers. “It is a lonely and despairing place. Once taken there, a prisoner never leaves. Some—like those I tracked here—have managed to escape the holding cells but I always find them. I always bring them back. I, and I alone, hold the keys to Prysson. I am the only one who may leave that gods-awful place.”

  “Aren’t you just as much condemned to be there as are those who are incarcerated?”

  He looked over at her. “I suppose I am,” he replied. “I’ve never considered it in that light.”

  “Is that why you said you would not take me with you when you leave?”

  “I would not have you there because it is a terrible, violent place filled with those creatures so vile, so evil not even hell will take them,” he answered.

  “Are you in danger there?” she asked and surprised him by leaning her head on his shoulder.

  “I am immortal, dearling. I cannot be killed or hurt. No, I am in no danger in Prysson.”

  “I will worry just the same,” she said quietly.

  That made his heart jerk in his chest. “I will be fine. There is no need for you to worry.”

  The clock chimed once. It was a quarter ’til and he flinched. There was precious little time left before the Midnight Hour.

  “I hate that clock,” she said. “I need to turn it off. I’ll never be able to sleep with it chiming every fifteen minutes and gonging every darn hour.”

  “You want it off?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said.

  He lifted his other hand, flicked his wrist. “There. No more bonging or chiming.”

  She craned her head to look up at him. “Just like that you made it stop.”

  “Just like that.” He reached over to cup her chin. “Anything else you’d like me to do?” He wanted so desperately to kiss her. He could not wait. He lowered his head to hers and took her lips gently.

  Kenzi tensed as his mouth closed over hers but the warmth of his lips, the taste of them was intoxicating. She’d always liked a man who held his woman’s face when he kissed her and Kerreyder’s hand had gone from cupping her chin to pressing softly against her cheek as he worked his lips over hers. The moment his tongue slipped smoothly, unhurriedly past her teeth she melted. His mouth was like wild honey. There was a faint scent of cinnamon clinging to his body. It was a scent that aroused her. His hand spiked outward into her hair until he was cupping the back of her neck. She felt her womb clench as he moved over her, ran his arm under the small of her back and eased her on the bed. His lower body pressed intimately against hers, the hardness at the juncture of his thighs making her womb twist again.

  “My pretty lady,” he whispered against her lips then pulled away to kiss the tip of her nose, her cheeks, her chin, her forehead. He stared down at her—his mouth mere inches from hers. “My pretty mate.”

  He was so handsome with his thick dark hair and vivid blue eyes. The dimples in his cheeks made him look boyish but there was nothing boyish in the way he was looking at her. That look made her ache between her legs.

  “I want you, McKenzi,” he said, his breath hot across her mouth.

  She stared up into that face that looked exactly like a man whose movies she’d watched—all nine of them—and who she waited anxiously to see each week on Cinemax. His azure gaze held her captive, his hard body was pressed to hers. His warm hand was cupping her neck. A strong arm was locked around her body. What wasn’t there to want? Declan Brady was the stuff of millions of women’s erotic dreams and his doppelgänger was lying atop her with a hard, thick cock paused for impalement.

  “I want you too,” she told him.

  She gasped for as soon as the words left her mouth their clothing was gone! Vanished! His body was wedged between her legs, the length of his cock pressed along her folds. He took her hands in his, spread his fingers through hers and locked her hands to either side of her head as he hungrily slanted his mouth over hers. The weight of him pressed her into the bed and was so pleasurable she could barely draw breath. He was feeding from her lips, his tongue pistoning in and out of her mouth but in such a way it was mesmerizing and the feeling did strange things to her lower body. He ground his hips against her, hiked up one knee to push her thighs farther apart. His hard chest surged against her breasts—flattened them—and the contact turned her nipples as hard as the sweet shaft gliding against her core.

  As the clock struck the first note of midnight, he slid effortlessly into her body. He jacked his other knee up until her thighs were split wide, her hips partially raised from the mattress. Instinct brought her legs up to latch around his hips as he began to move inside her.

  Second chime. He swiveled his hips.

  Third chime. He pressed deep.

  Fourth chime. He put his mouth to the side of her neck.

  Fifth chime. He eased back, almost all the way out of her.

  Sixth chime. He slammed forward, going deeper.

  Seventh chime. His hands tightened around hers, sliding her arms higher along the mattress.

  Eighth chime. He pulled back, shot forward with a grunt.

  Ninth chime. He ground hard against her as he made quick thrusts into her cunt.

  Tenth chime. His thrusts became wild, hard, rapid. She began to feel the overpowering release building like wildfire inside her.

  Eleventh chime. His cock jerked inside her, he stopped moving as he spilled deep into her body, her body impaled upon his. The climax that took them both at the same time was so fierce lights burst across her vision and she felt her body spiraling out of control. Her skin itched with the release. The orgasm went on and on and…

  The twelfth chime. Her entire being became one fiery inferno of unadulterated lust. She snarled as his cock continued to pour warm fluid with its every kick. He was snarling as he ground his hips brutally against her as though in doing so he could drain every last ounce of cum from his body.

  At one tick past Midnight—the traditional hour of Joining—McKenzi Delaney became the undisputed Blood-mate of Kerreyder Abaddon. She would be his for all eternity. At one tick past that, her humanity was taken away to be replaced by immortality.

  She would live forever as Kerreyder’s consort.

  * * * * *

  The Nightwind went still as death as what had happened wove its way down to him from Kenzi’s room. Ungodly pain ripped through his being and he threw his head back and howled in misery. Another male was rutting with his female and the hopelessness, the despair was overwhelming.

  Serves you right you warty newt for not being male enough to protect your female from an interloper, Naamah sent to him in a goading taunt. Her wild laughter drove through his mind like a steel spike.

  Fury and outrage ripped through Randon Kayle as his talons dragged viciously down the titanium wall of the cell.

  Chapter Eight

  They were assembled at the conference table waiting for the archdemon to arrive. The Supervisor was at the head of the table. He sat with his hands locked together on the table. To his right the Prime Reaper Viraiden Cree reclined in his chair with his brawny arms folded over his chest. Across from Cree was the Panthera Reaper Darkyn Sorn who was fiddling with a vid-pad and ignoring everyone else. Two seats down from Cree the Nightwind sat with his arms on the table—forehead resting on his crossed hands. He had been silent since being let out of the cell no one knew he’d been in until Kerreyder had sent word to free him.

  “I don’t like waiting,” Cree grumbled.

  “Neither do I but he asked that you be here,” the Supervisor said. “Why he needs our help in tracking down and finding his prey isn’t clear but he asked and we are obliged to obey.”

  A derisive snort came from Sorn but he didn’t look up from the vid-pad. His thumbs were moving at warp speed over the small keyboard.

  “What the fuck are you doing, Reaper?” Cree demanded.

  “Sexting,” Sorn mumbled. He glanced at the Prime. “My woman.”

  “You’ve a mate?”
Cree asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “Aye, a beautiful woman.” He returned to his typing.

  “A witch,” Randon said without lifting his head.

  “A mate,” Cree said. “She has my sympathy.”

  The Nightwind chuffed. “I had one too until that bastard prick took her from me.”

  “I did not take her from you,” Kerreyder said from the doorway. “We are sharing her.”

  It was Randon’s turn to snort but he still didn’t take his head from the table. Sorn, however, looked up with avid interest apparent in his green eyes then put his vid-pad aside.

  “Sharing her?” Cree repeated. His eyes narrowed. “And you are accepting of that, incubus?”

  The Nightwind didn’t reply but everyone in the room heard the low growl that came from his throat.

  “I wouldn’t be,” Sorn stated emphatically.

  “Nor would I,” Cree agreed.

  “Neither he nor I have a choice in the matter,” Kerreyder said as he took his seat. “He is blood sworn to her family line and she is my Blood-mate. In the annals of time that has never happened before. This is new territory for each of us.”

  “She was mine long before you staked claim to her,” Randon stated.

  “He made her immortal,” the Supervisor said. “That should be of some comfort to you, Randon.”

  “Aye,” Kerreyder agreed. “She will not grow old, wither and die before your eyes as the other women of her line have before her. She will be with us for all eternity.”

  “There is that too,” the Supervisor acknowledged. “Does that not help ease you, Kayle?”

  The Nightwind raised his head and turned to give the Supervisor a steady look. “She was my salvation,” he said. “The one who would have made me human again. Who could release me from my servitude to Lilith. What good is humanity to me now? I cannot become human only to die and lose her for all time.”

  “Shit,” Cree said. “No wonder you’re pissed.”

  “You think?” Randon threw at him. He put his head down on his hands again.

  “You could always return to the Abyss,” the archdemon said quietly.