Freefall

by Tyler Blackwood

  He buried his face in her neck, holding her so tight it hurt. “You’re the most beautiful wolf I’ve ever seen. I wanted so much…”—his voice broke—“…to be the one who made you happy.”

  Sara blinked and realized she was alone. She lay on her side, inside the circle, surrounded by darkness, amid a pool of black liquid. She felt a thousand eyes on her, but saw none of them. Her kind was here, waiting beside the Xylans. Yet, they weren’t supposed to be, for both were at war. She remembered now her father telling her the Sons of Sirius had broken into two factions and that one still served the gods of Olympus.

  The other served themselves.

  Maybe she should’ve taken comfort knowing her own kind were with her, that she wasn’t truly alone, but that was how she felt.

  Utterly alone.

  And then all she could think of was how he made her feel, and that she hadn’t been able to tell him. It was you all along, wasn’t it? He’d been there, at her side, and then he moved away. She saw him lower his head into his hands, saw those strong, broad shoulder tremble. What had the power to affect him like that?

  Out of the black pitch, Bartell rushed toward her, a gleaming blade in his hand. His weathered features contorted into a vicious sneer. As if he were shouting something, his mouth worked. She couldn’t hear a thing over the slow thump of her heart.

  Sara saw the whole thing happen in slow motion. Saw him raise the blade, the spittle on his lips as he shouted words she was certain she’d not want to hear. Saw the blade sweep downward.

  Suddenly he pitched forward. From the center of his chest, a long, golden blade protruded.

  Bryan’s dagger.

  Her very own hero rose up from behind Bartell, both hands still clinging to the dagger embedded in Bartell’s back.

  She was sinking, again, into a dark mire that seemed bottomless. A chill wind surrounded her, made her shiver and her teeth clatter. Was this what it felt like to die? Wasn’t so bad then, not like the few times she’d imagined it. Very peaceful. Quiet. More like a dream than reality.

  In her mind, Elliott stood above her. His intent gaze was focused on his surroundings. He missed nothing, this great warrior. She’d watched how he took everything in. Strong, courageous, and yet so sweet and tender. He had a sister and knew what to do with a flat iron.

  Then she saw him kneel.

  Absolutely, Father, he said. My life for hers.

  His gaze lowered to hers.

  Sara closed her eyes just as something large, hard, and warm fell beside her.

  * * *

  I’m not letting you go, he said in her mind. You belong to me.

  I’m afraid, she told him.

  Follow me.

  I can’t. I can’t see where I’m going.

  “Trust me,” he whispered.

  Sara looked in all directions. I can’t even see you. How am I to trust you?

  “Do you love me?”

  Yes.

  “Then let me take you from this place. You don’t belong here. Please, trust me enough to follow the sound of my voice. Come with me, Sara. Follow me…”

  She felt him move away more than she saw it. In her mind, fleeting images danced between shadows and confused her. How was she supposed to figure out which way to go?

  “Come,” he whispered.

  Where are you, she asked.

  And then she was falling. She tried to climb back up through the air, grasping for anything, anything! Flailing, blindly searching in absolute darkness.

  Deeper.

  Into what, she didn’t know.

  Farther.

  Finally, she stopped trying. Her mind and body relaxed. Her emotions stilled, and she waited to feel him again. Knew he was there. When she moved again, it wasn’t exactly moving but more like a stutter in time.

  Reaching out, she searched the blanket of fine gray mist for him. The warm, oppressive humidity clung to her body. If she’d been wearing clothes, they would’ve stuck to her skin. And while she couldn’t see her own body, she knew she was naked.

  “I love you,” he whispered against her ear.

  Are we dead?

  “No,” he whispered. “Wake up.”

  More tired than she’d ever been in her life, she let herself relax against him, let him wrap his strong body around hers. Let him shield her from whatever else might come.

  “I love you,” she said.

  The sound of her own voice startled her. At once, she became aware of her surroundings and inhaled deeply, taking a warm, familiar scent into her body. Jasmine and spice.

  A moment later, she opened her eyes.

  Blinked.

  She lay inside the circle of blood. Elliot lay beside her, his shirt splattered with blood, his golden arms covered with scratches and bruises.

  “You’re really here. Was it a dream?” she said, reaching to touch his mouth, his cheek. She needed to know if he was real.

  He shook his head, kissing her fingers as they whispered over his lips. “No, baby. It wasn’t. I was there with you. The whole time, I was there.”

  Suddenly filled with fear, her hand flew to her own throat. She brushed the smooth, damp skin, then exhaled her relief. “You brought me back.”

  “No, you came back on your own. I was there only to guide you.”

  Sara looked around. They were alone. The sun had just crept over the horizon. A new day was beginning. “Where’s Bryan?”

  Elliott thought about that for a moment. When he looked at her again, his eyes were clouded. “Gone. Bobby killed him, only seconds after he killed Bartell.”

  Sara bolted upright. “Bryan’s dead?”

  Elliott caught her shoulders and eased her back into the warmth of his arms. “Bartell wanted you either dead or so much a part of the Dogs of Xyla, you’d never realize what you truly were.”

  “What was I?” she asked, yawning.

  “Half Xantu Guardian, the daughter of a great fighter. Your father, Xenon, was the strongest guardian of Apollo’s temple. It was said that your mother was a goddess. As their progeny, you had the unique strength to lead the Guardians against the Xylans, to finally end the war between the two factions. Bartell couldn’t allow that because it would’ve meant defeat for his own kind, but when he tried to kill you, Bryan stepped in. He gave his life willingly so you would live. He is a great warrior.”

  “Was,” she corrected absently.

  Chapter Eleven

  Is, Elliott said silently.

  He looked up.

  Prometheus stood nearby, still clad in the leather pants and dark T-shirt he’d donned as a human. His face still echoed the pain of his loss. Elliott knew his friend would hurt for a long time to come. Sara’s love was a gift, one he cherished more than anything in the world.

  You won, my friend, Prometheus said. You gave your immortality back to Zeus and now you’ll live as one of them. Is it worth it?

  Elliott smiled and quirked an eyebrow. “Do you really have to ask?”

  “What?” Sara asked.

  “Nothing, sweetheart. Just rest.” He curled his arms tighter around her. “It’s all right.”

  No, I don’t, Prometheus answered, a tight smile on his lips. I know the answer. See you in sixty years or so.

  He dissolved into the early morning light.

  Elliott kissed the top of Sara’s head. Sixty. Eight. Forty. Whatever time he had with her was worth the power he’d relinquished. Every morning he woke up beside her would remind him of what he’d gained.

  She’d been the catalyst that brought about the end of the Dogs of Xyla. Once their leader, Bartell, was gone, they’d weakened enough that the smaller faction, the Zantu Guardians, could defeat them. His beautiful Sara was a miracle, the daughter of a Guardian and a goddess. The half blood who died as an animal and was reborn human. No other half blood before her had ever survived long enough to complete the regeneration of human cells. No one even thought it possible. She proved them all wrong.

  * * *

  Sara
lay on her side. The nearby LCD clock read ten-thirty. Morning, she thought groggily. Guess it was time to get to work.

  She pushed the blankets off her legs, sat up and stretched. Tight muscles protested the simple movement. Rubbing her face, she yawned and blinked and tried like hell to clear the cobwebs from her mind.

  Coffee.

  She could smell it from her bedroom upstairs. Who’d made coffee?

  Blinking again, she scanned the bedroom, working to figure out why she couldn’t quite manage to rise above the fog.

  Well, she decided, coffee would certainly help.

  Donning her tattered robe, she descended the stairs and strode into the kitchen. The blinds were open, dishes had been done, and the dark granite countertops gleamed in the late morning sunlight.

  “Toto,” she said, gawking at the sight. “I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.”

  “Good morning. How do you feel?”

  Sara whirled around to find Elliott standing in the doorway, an apron covering his black T-shirt and faded denim jeans. Brown smudges adorned his arms and face.

  “Elliott! What are you doing here?”

  He grinned. “Waiting for you to wake up. I wanted to be certain you were all right.”

  Sara pushed the tangle of dark hair from her face. “How long have I been asleep?”

  “Just a day.” He planted a kiss on the top of her head as he walked to the coffee maker. “Want a cup?”

  “Sure,” she said absently. An entire day?

  He poured a cup, handed it to her, then leaned against the counter.

  Sara took a sip. “Mm,” she said, savoring both the warmth and flavor. Best cup she’d ever had.

  “How do you feel?” he asked again.

  She nodded over her cup. “Fine.” Damn, he looked good. He hadn’t shaved, and the dark stubble along his jaw made him look utterly untamed. Wild. Sexy as hell. Thick biceps stretched the dark T-shirt, rippling beautifully, dangerously, even though he wasn’t doing more than pushing a hand through his hair. His innate sexual heat made her think of his earlier passion, after he’d fed her small broccoli florets, and told her she needed to be strong for him.

  “You kissed me,” she blurted.

  “You wanted me to,” he answered easily, a little half grin on his face.

  “So I did.”

  He crossed the floor, took her in his arms, and backed her up against the wall. “And now you want me to do it again, don’t you?”

  She looked up at him. His lips parted in anticipation, his gaze focused on her mouth. “Oh, yeah…”

  His head descended and his soft, full lips claimed hers, crushing and possessive. His hands came around to the front of her robe. Pushing it off her shoulders, he quickly found her breasts and cupped them over her nightshirt. His tongue explored her mouth while his fingers tightened over her nipples.

  She moaned against him, her fingers digging into his hard-as-rock biceps.

  “You want me to make love to you, don’t you,” he whispered against her lips.

  She feathered her lips across his, back and forth, letting her tongue slip out to ever-so-gently slide along his lower lip. “Mm-hmm,” she answered. “Now.”

  “Mmph,” he groaned. “I love a woman who knows what she wants.” Elliott unzipped his jeans and, keeping her still against the wall, let them drop to his ankles. Grasping her bottom, he lifted her up, spread her thighs, and tucked his hips beneath her to keep her up against the wall. Once again his mouth was on hers, his tongue dancing urgently with hers.

  “Don’t need these,” he said, a moment later. A quick tug, and her panties were on the floor.

  His cock pressed against her slick folds. Without another word, he lowered her onto his thick shaft, stretching her more with each pressing inch.

  He filled her so completely, so perfectly, she couldn’t breathe. “Oh, God,” she whispered.

  His thrusts were gentle at first, sweet and tender. But then he tightened, moaned, and buried his face in her hair. “I wanted this to last, Sara…” he said. “Can’t…” Each thrust became harder, faster, until she was panting and nearly in tears from the pleasure of it.

  He drove his cock in to the hilt and shuddered, moaning, taking her right along with him.

  Spiraling higher, her body splintered into a million pieces, pulsing around him, drawing his hot fluid deeper into her body. She laid her head on his shoulder, waiting for her breath to slow.

  “I love you,” he said softly, still catching his breath. “I forgot a condom.”

  She chuckled. “Yeah, I just realized that myself.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s all right,” she said, a hint of a smile on her lips. “I’ve never been sick and never had a period. I don’t think anything’s going to come from it.”

  “You were a half blood,” he said. “But you’re human now.”

  “Yeah,” she agreed thoughtfully. “I am.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Hours later, Elliott lay between Sara’s thighs, his cock still hard, even after a marathon love-making session where he’d driven into her so hard, he’d pushed the bed flush against the wall. And when he’d exploded inside her, he’d seen stars. And galaxies, thousands of them.

  “I can’t get enough of you, Sara,” he whispered, curling his fingers around her lush, full breasts. He dipped to tease her rosy nipple, sucking hard enough to make her whimper.

  “I can’t believe what you do to me,” she cooed. “But I want you to do it again. And again.”

  What a great idea. “Turn over.”

  She rolled onto her hands and knees.

  He grasped two silk scarves from the nightstand and bound her hands behind her back with one of them. “Trust me?” he asked mischievously.

  Sara looked at him over her shoulder. “Absolutely.”

  “Glad to hear it.” He blindfolded her with the second scarf. “Still trust me.”

  “Yes,” she said, smiling.

  Pushing her legs apart, he pressed his cock against her folds. “I love you, Sara.” With that, he made love to the woman he’d crossed two dimensions for.

  And two years later, after he’d married her, he still woke up with her nestled in his arms, a contented smile on his face.

  BIO

  Tyler writes fast-paced, high-action romantic fantasy. Her work often explores the special relationship between man, animal, and nature – with a twist of magic. Eerie, sensual, often dark and alternately funny, her stories have been called “fascinating, and… imaginatively drawn” (RT Bookclub).

  See more work by this author at

  www.Venuspress.com