Riya relayed the information.
“All your grandmother and I can think of is sending them back through another portal. I’ve put in an emergency call to your father, and the minute he gets back to Earth, we’re coming to see you.” Her tone said there’d be no point in arguing.
“Looking forward to it, mum.” Riya loved her parents, but they still thought of her as their little fledgling, barely able to catch a field mouse without help. A short visit would probably be fine, as long as none of the rest of the family came along.
“Hold on a minute, dear….” Riya heard mumbled conversation in the background. “Your grandmother says to tell you that the key to closing the gate is in the earth.”
Riya rolled her eyes at the prophecy that was no more helpful than the one Idrián’s family oracle had provided. “Thank her for me, and I’ll see you soon. Love you.”
She told Idrián about the prophecy, what her mother said about Spencer Emerson, and what he’d said in the warehouse when the demon had temporarily left him.
Idrián’s grim look returned. “Derorril’s ‘ride’ is dying. All the more incentive for it to find you.” He pressed down on the accelerator. “The wards on the ranch will slow him down, but they won’t be enough.”
She heard, or maybe felt, the despair in his voice, like he was blaming himself for something. She leaned toward him and put a hand on his blue-jean-covered thigh. Their ever-present connection amped up a little.
“I have faith in you. In us. We’ll figure it out.”
Riya didn’t need a fence or a signpost to tell her when they crossed into the sacred lands of Idrián’s people. One moment, she was alone in a dark truck with Idrián, and the next, she felt the watchful, wary eyes of dozens of spirits that powered the wards. Once past the perimeter, the land felt less forbidding and desolate than it had just half a mile back. It was impressively subtle protection magic that kept away unwanted visitors.
The rutted dirt road took them along a fence, and finally to a crossroads, where he turned onto a better graded road that turned out to be the long driveway leading to the ranch’s double front gate.
He used mundane remote controls to open and close the gates. Small solar-powered lights led toward darkened structures that she assumed were the ranch buildings. He drove slowly, then stopped. The headlights revealed a tan-colored mobile home with dark, curtainless windows, fronted by a small wooden porch.
An unexpected sense of comfort arose in her. She looked at Idrián and realized it was coming from him. He’d missed his home and his land.
He turned off the truck and switched off the headlights. “It’s probably not what you’re used to—”
“I camped in a tent and cooked over a butane stove in my warehouse for eight months while I was fixing it up.” She unbuckled her seatbelt. “A mobile home looks pretty damn luxurious to me.”
She started to open the door, but a flicker of movement stopped her. “Uhm, Idrián? There’s a huge orange cat with flaming eyes and ears sitting on the fence post. Should I be worried?”
Idrián chuckled. “That’s Necalli. She’s just hoping you brought a few charcoal briquettes.”
Riya grabbed her bag and got out of the truck. “Sorry, Necalli. I’ll know better next time.” She shut the truck door. The cat twitched her tail and yawned.
She walked to the front of the truck and waited while Idrián grabbed his bag and cane. In the stillness of the desert night, his brace creaked with every step he took toward the mobile home.
She waited for him to lead the way, then impulsively caught up with him and slipped her hand in his. Through their energized connection, she felt his deep, powerful connection to the land, like a network of underground power lines that radiated out to the wards. It was the feeling she’d been looking for her whole life, the one she’d started to build in her warehouse. “No wonder you love this place. You belong here.”
He opened the door to the mobile home, switched on a light, and led her inside. A woven mat to the right of the door held a pair of dusty boots, one occupied by a prosthetic leg with a stars-and-stripes paint job.
She moved into the room a few steps. The décor was spare and eclectic. One corner of the living area had neatly arranged art supplies for the sand paintings he’d told her about. The furniture consisted of mismatched but compatible work table, a small dining table and chairs, and a utilitarian kitchen, all in colors of sunrises and mountains. She liked the simplicity of it.
He shut the front door behind her, took her bag and set it on the floor with his, then wordlessly wrapped his arms around her in a long, tight hug. She relaxed into him and simply held onto his waist, feeling like time stopped for those few, precious moments.
“Welcome to my home,” he said quietly. He kissed her so thoroughly that whatever she might have thought to reply dissolved into pure sensation.
Insistent waves of white noise arose from all around them. She broke the kiss to look for the source of the sounds. Idrián sighed.
He pulled back from her a little, looking at something behind her. “Yes, yes, all right.” She looked around but didn’t see anything but the door. She gave him a questioning look.
He slid his hands to her shoulders. “My ancestors want to meet you.” His expression was apologetic, and his tone said he thought he was imposing on her.
“It’s okay. I want to meet them, too.” She smiled. “If it’s any consolation, my family isn’t any better at boundaries than yours seems to be.”
The corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. He muttered a few words in a language she didn’t recognize, then touched his index finger to her forehead above each eye. She felt the power of his earth magic through their connection with each touch.
Suddenly, the room she’d thought empty was filled with at least a dozen spirits, some overlapping, and more drifting in through the floor, ceiling, and walls.
Idrián touched both of her ears at the same time, and spirit voices began clamoring for her attention. She couldn’t make out individual words or even languages. An overwhelming sea of sound filled her ears and head. She closed her eyes and tried to make sense of it.
“Enough!” bellowed Idrián. The clamoring stopped.
Riya opened her eyes and peeked up at him, then looked around the room. The spirit of an older woman in a brown skirt and pale blouse with a colorful sash around her thick waist drifted closer. She had plain features but the warmest smile Riya had ever seen. “I’m Juana Morales, Idrián’s great-great aunt. I’ll speak for us because I speak the best English. I hope you’ll forgive us.” She gestured at the other spirits that were all staring at her with frank curiosity or looking at their spectral feet. “Dreamwalk partners are uncommonly rare, and Idrián is our favorite living relative still here.”
Idrián snorted in amusement. “I’m your only living relative still here.” He gently urged Riya to turn so her back was leaning against him. “This is Riya Sanobal, my dreamwalk partner, and I am hers.”
He patiently introduced her to all the spirits that approached. She gave up trying to remember any of the names, especially the complex ones in his ancestral language. She wanted to do better, but all she could think of was how he’d said he was hers.
Of all the moments to realize she was in love with the man, she couldn’t think of a more awkward time than when meeting the ghosts of his powerful magical ancestors.
Idrián told the assembled spirits about the demons that were after Riya, and were very likely on her trail now.
“You must renew the wards,” Juana said. “We can’t hold the lands without them.”
“I know, but how? They were keyed to Black Fox, and he isn’t here to tell me how to change that.”
“That man loves secrets too much, and now look where it’s got us.” Juana frowned in annoyance. “Usually, dreamwalk partners have weeks to figure this out.” She crossed her arms. “You and Riya need to bond and dance together at the nexus point for the wards.”
Riya remembered the question she’d asked Idrián. “Does the dance have to be the exact movements, or is it just the intent and the focus behind it?”
Juana beamed. “Oh, Idrián, bond with this woman before she gets away. You have to dance both on Earth and in dreamwalk to unlock the wards, and you can only do that once you’re properly bonded.”
“What is ‘properly’ bonded?” asked Riya.
Juana’s laugh sounded like a joyful, babbling brook. “You’ll figure it out.” She turned to face the rest of the spirits and made shooing motions. “We’re all leaving now. Yes, elder, even you.” She grabbed the ear of the spirit trying to hide under the table and hauled him out. The old man in the loincloth squirmed, then faded away. The other spirits left, leaving only Juana, who gave Idrián a meaningful look. “The new moon is a good time for planting seeds.”
She melted like water into the floor and was gone.
Riya turned to face Idrián. “Did she just tell you we should be making babies?”
* * * * *
Idrián blushed, but stood his ground. “Yes, pretty much.”
The idea didn’t shock him as much as he once would have thought. It terrified him, but in a good way, because they’d be Riya’s and his children, and he’d love them as much as he loved her. He wanted to tell her all that, tell her how he felt, and find out if she could love him, too, but the words bottled up in his throat when he remembered the wards and why the needed them.
She put her hands on his shoulders and looked up at him. She was heart-stoppingly beautiful. “I wish we had time to do this right, but those demons have to be stopped. If they don’t come here, we’ll have to go to them. We can’t let them eat Denver. How do we bond?”
He tightened his grip on her. “It doesn’t have to be us to stop the demons.” He didn’t want her anywhere near Emerson, who would carelessly destroy her.
She shook her head. “It does have to be us. That’s what the prophecies are about. I’m the key, remember? You’re the earth.” She rose up on her toes and kissed him softly. “Shifters describe bonding as two puzzle pieces snapping into place. Maybe with you and me, it’s the blending of our magic.”
She tasted so good that he returned her kiss with interest, then pulled her flat up against him and nuzzled her ear. “Maybe it has to be done in dreamwalk.”
She kissed his chin. “Could we talk about this after you show me where the bathroom is?”
“Oh, sorry.” He was an idiot for not thinking of it sooner. “I don’t have many guests.”
He took her hand, not willing to lose contact yet, and led her past the kitchen, down the hallway with its solar-powered safety running lights, to the only bathroom, between the two small bedrooms at the back. He went back to the kitchen and poured two glasses of water, then drank one. Now that they weren’t running for their lives, his body lodged multiple complaints about the bruises, scrapes, and muscles he’d strained in their escape. He’d come so close to losing her.
He scooped up Riya’s bag and took it to the hallway just in time to meet her coming out of the bathroom. “I want to make love with you tonight.”
She blinked, then smiled. “I want that, too. The sooner the better.”
He nodded and led her into his small bedroom in the back and switched on the dim overhead light. His unmade queen-sized bed took up most of the space. He put her bag on the floor next to the closet, then turned and pulled her into his arms and kissed her for all he was worth.
She kissed him back as she started pulling his T-shirt out of his pants. Her hands branded him with warmth wherever she touched him.
“I want to unwrap you like a present.” He found the bottom edge of her T-shirt and pulled up.
She grabbed the hem herself and pulled it off over her head, taking her sweater with it. “Next time.” She urged him to pull off his own T-shirt, which he did. She started on his belt, then hesitated. “Does your brace come off first?”
He swore under his breath. “Yes.” He sat on the edge of the bed and worked the straps. She deserved more than a damaged man. His fingers slowed. Sooner or later, she’d figure that out…
“Idrián, look at me.” The command in her tone would make a drill sergeant listen. “I want you, scars and all. This”—she patted his brace—“is no more important than freckles.”
“Freckles?”
“Yes,” she said, kneeling on the floor next to him and unbuckling the straps on his brace. “Girls with freckles think that’s all anyone else sees. Everyone else just sees a girl.”
She helped him slide the brace off and lean it against the wall, then moved in between his legs and attacked his belt. The vision of her there sent blood racing to his groin, and his erection grew with each touch of her fingers, each brush against his thighs. The smile on her face said she knew the effect she was having on him.
He stood and pulled her to her feet for a hard kiss, then boldly slid a hand to her breast and drew his thumb against her pebbled nipple. She moaned and arched into him. “Yes, Idrián. More.”
He trailed kisses down her neck and tugged at the edge of her sports bra. “How does this come off?”
She leaned back and pulled it off over head, leaving him momentarily transfixed at the sight of her beautiful, round breasts with large, plump, dark nipples.
She cupped his face with her hands. “Get naked.”
She didn’t have to tell him twice. He was spurred on by the sight of her wriggling her pants and underwear down and tossing them onto her bag, leaving her tantalizingly bare before him, except for a small delicate chain she wore around her waist, and a thin strip of dark pubic hair on her mons. He eased his jeans and underwear down, freeing his erection, then sat on the edge of the bed to push them off his legs, only to realize he had to remove his shoes first.
He untied the right one and kicked it off, then ignored the left one and went straight for pulling off the prosthesis, then the liner. She took the liner from him and placed it on the homemade rack by his bed, then dug in her bag. How had he gotten lucky enough to find someone who took the daily realities of being with an amputee in stride? Her hands on his thighs focused him on her like a laser, and coherent thought flew out the window when she kneeled between his legs.
* * * * *
Riya glanced up at her sexy man to make sure he was still with her, then slid her hand up his smooth thigh and wrapped her fingers around his shaft to pump slowly. His breath hitched, and she smiled. She liked that he wanted her as much as she wanted him. She gave the head of his shaft a tentative lick with her tongue.
“No teasing. I’ll come right here, and I’d rather be inside you.”
His words made her core clench. She gave him one last pump, then crawled onto the bed and showed him the condom package in her hand. “Now or—”
He practically launched himself at her, pushing her onto her back and licking her upturned nipple, then closing his lips over it and swirling it with his tongue. Electricity raced through her and headed straight for her core, making her moan.
He switched to the neglected nipple, covering the first with his hand and rolling it gently. “So beautiful.”
He settled on top of her, resting on his elbows, then slowly kissed down her belly. “I’ve been dying to taste you.”
She wantonly spread her knees wide, trusting him as she’d trusted no other lover. “Please.”
He slid his tongue between her lips and lapped upward, sending her hips thrusting toward him as he found his target. His tongue worked mortal magic and drove her near the edge in moments. He thrust a finger inside her, then two. She ground herself against him and grabbed her aching nipples. “I’m close…” He added a third finger inside her and flicked her clit back and forth rapidly with his tongue.
She cried out as an intense orgasm swept through her, making her see pinpoints of light like the stars of dreamwalk. She reached for him blindly, wanting to hang onto him if the dreamwalk overtook them.
“Shhhh.” He slid his bo
dy up hers sensuously. “I’ve got you.”
He took the condom package from her hand and ripped it open. “I need to be inside you.” He rolled it onto his beautiful male shaft.
“Yes, hurry.” She covered her shakiness, and the seriousness of what they were about to do, with humor. “Your family’s spirits won’t stay gone for long.”
* * * * *
Love swelled in Idrián’s heart as Riya smiled. He knew he should give her more time to recover, but he couldn’t wait any longer. He lined himself up at her entrance and pushed in gently, knowing she’d still be sensitive, but needing her heat more than he needed air. She gasped and spread her legs wider, the way only a dancer could. He thrust deep into her tight channel, and he was home. He stayed still to give her time to get used to him.
“Move,” she breathed. “I want to feel you.”
He retreated, then thrust in again, and after that, he couldn’t have stopped for anything. He pumped hard and fast, leaning down for a quick kiss or to latch onto her tempting nipples. A tingling at the base of his spine said he was done for, and he didn’t fight it. The rush of orgasm rolled over him like a power wave, roaring in his ears like the winds of dreamwalk. He was dimly aware that he shouted as he thrust spasmodically into her.
He opened his eyes and looked down at her flushed face. The words that had stuck in his throat before came tumbling out. “I love you.”
Tears leaked from her eyes, but she smiled. “I love you, too.” She pulled him down to rest more of his weight on her. “This is going to sound crazy, but I think we need to dreamwalk. I feel it calling me.”
“So do I.” He kissed her forehead. “We’ll be glad later if we make ourselves comfortable here, though.” He reluctantly rolled off her and took care of the condom by wrapping it in a tissue. He shoved his naked stump into the specially lined prosthesis he kept by the bed, which was better than hopping one-legged or crawling to the bathroom.
He took the opportunity to brush his teeth and rinse the worst of the dirt off his face. It was a wonder she hadn’t refused to kiss him.
In Graves Below Page 13