There was no way he could keep this from her. She had to know the kind of dangers they were up against. “No. There was no trouble at the village. Everyone there was dead.”
“What?” She staggered back a step and the bird on her shoulder lifted his wings as if to steady her. “Everyone ? When? How? Did you—”
“No,” he snapped instantly. “I didn’t kill them. Whoever’s after us did. That’s my guess, anyway. Probably didn’t want any witnesses who could identify you or me to the feds.”
“Oh, my God.” She lifted one hand to her mouth and it wasn’t until then that Rune noticed she was wearing one of his T-shirts. She looked like a young girl. Innocent. Hurt. And he hated like hell to add to the burdens already weighing her down.
Then he remembered her inner strength and, as if she recalled it, too, she lifted her chin and asked, “Did they track us? I mean, did you see any sign of them following ?”
“No,” he said, shifting a quick look to the bright-eyed bird. “There’s nothing—for now, anyway. I picked up enough stuff in the village to last us a few days. We’ll take it with us when we go.”
“When are we leaving?”
“Tomorrow morning,” he said, and taking Teresa’s arm, he turned her around to walk her back down the long tunnels. When she hissed in a breath, he frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“My feet hurt, that’s all.”
He looked down and muttered, “You came through the tunnels barefoot? You could have cut yourself to the bone on these rocks.”
She shrugged. “I was in a hurry. I heard Chico and—”
“The damn bird again.” He bent, swept her up into his arms and held her close while he called on the fire and flashed them to the heart of the cave.
When they appeared in the plush living area, Teresa looked up at him. “Now why didn’t you do that the first time we came here instead of making me walk all the way?”
He gave her a quick look before he set her down on the edge of the bed and knelt in front of her. “Because I wanted to walk the tunnels. Make sure there was no one lurking there.”
“Ah,” she acknowledged. “Good point.”
“Thanks.” He shook his head as he shifted his gaze from her face to the bird perched on her shoulder. Its beady eyes were fixed on Rune and he had the distinct impression that the creature was watching him with malice. Nothing he’d like better than to get rid of the damn thing. He didn’t like it, but more, he didn’t trust it. How the hell had it found them? Did Teresa really believe that a small bird like this one could smell her across miles of desert? That it could avoid the raptors and other predators living in the wild?
“What’re you thinking?” she asked.
“What?” His gaze snapped back to hers. “Just wondering how your bird found you this far from the village.”
Teresa smiled and looked at her pet, bobbing up and down on her shoulder. “He’s amazing. He’s always been able to find me. I used to leave him at home and go into the desert to practice spells or whatever and after an hour or two, there he was.”
Maybe his distrust of the creature was born simply from his dislike for any bird. But in any case, Chico wasn’t his main concern at the moment. Teresa was.
She was his mate. Under his protection. But even as he tried to assure himself that his consideration for her was based on mutual respect, he knew it was more.
Teresa had already claimed a small corner of his heart and it would be pointless to pretend otherwise. He held her bare feet in his palms and looked at the dozens of scrapes and deep scratches. She winced and he saw it, hating that she was in pain, even this slight discomfort.
“Hold still.”
“Rune …”
“Shh.” He closed his eyes, called up the fire and let the living flames dance across his hands and the soles of her feet. Warmth spread from him to her and back again in a link that had been destined to be forged. The inevitability of it filled the empty spaces within him and he gave himself up to the rush of it.
“The cuts are healed,” he finally said.
“Thanks.” She tried to pull free, but he held on to her. Need swamped him and he yielded to the draw of the Mating ritual. To claim her again and again. To hold on to her despite the danger building around them.
He rose up, took her mouth with his and felt her surrender as her body answered his call.
A low, throaty growl erupted from his throat as he looked into his woman’s eyes. Her desire raged and fed his own. Her body ached and called to his. The Mating clawed at each of them and the skin around the branding tattoo burned.
Keeping his gaze fixed on hers, he swept one hand in front of his body and his clothing was gone in a blink. He did the same with the T-shirt she wore, baring her luscious, honey-colored skin to him. She sighed and reached for him, dragging her nails along his thighs and up until she was cupping his hard, heavy length in both palms.
Rune hissed in a breath and held perfectly still while her fingers explored him. Up and back, her hands slid over his rock-hard body and he groaned when her touch smoothed the very tip of him, sliding a single bead of moisture there in tight circles designed to drive him mad.
His thoughts racing, his body churning, Rune couldn’t stand another second of not touching her. He pulled her up, tossed her back onto the bed and saw her mouth curve in pleasure as he bent to lower himself over her. Body brushing hers, the tips of her nipples practically scalding his already heated skin, he took one kiss and then another, teeth tugging at her lower lip until she groaned and lifted her hands to cup his face.
Her scent surrounded Rune, pulling him in, drawing him closer to her heat, to the mystical bonds entwining them so completely. He swept his hands up and down her body, coveting every inch, exploring every curve. Every time with her was like the first time. His body ached for release and his soul stirred in recognition of the one woman he would always need.
She whispered to him, her words broken, coming on a sigh, lost in the cavernous room. But he didn’t need to hear her to know that she felt as he did. That the fire burning inside him was also engulfing her. She arched up, offering him her breasts, and he accepted the offering. His mouth closed over her left nipple and he felt it pebble and harden with a few quick flicks of his tongue. Desire pumped thick in his veins as he drew back far enough to run the tip of his tongue across the branding tattoo already beginning to encircle her breast.
Lightning bolts.
His witch. His woman of power, dazzling in her strength, humbling in her vulnerability. He wanted all of her. Craved all of her.
A roar of something primal and purely male rushed through his system as he stared at that brand. His mark on her skin. A claim staked. This woman was his and no one else’s. Her luscious body, strong spirit and quick mind were sworn to his keeping.
“I need you, Teresa,” he whispered, bending his head to kiss her neck, the curve of her throat. He felt her pulse beat beneath his lips and wished that his still heart could beat in tandem with hers. To make them even more of a unit. One whole. At last.
“No more talk,” she whispered, her gaze locked with his so that he couldn’t mistake her hunger. “Take me, Rune. Fill me.”
Her sleek thighs parted, baring her center to him, and Rune looked his fill. She was uninhibited, as wild and driven as he. And he loved that she craved him with a raw necessity she was unafraid to show him.
He slid the tips of his fingers over her slick folds and felt her tremble in response. Enjoying the play of emotions on her expressive face, he dipped first one finger and then another into her heat. Her head tipped back and her body bowed gracefully as she strove to meet his touch, to lift her hips to his questing hand.
There was no shyness between them. Only the hunger. The need.
She shouted his name when his thumb pressed down hard on that single bud of sensation at the very heart of her. Her body jolted, her hips rocked as his fingers caressed her inside and out. His own body was screaming, aching for completi
on, but first he had to watch her tumble over the edge. He needed her release even more than he needed his own.
It was innate. Instinctive. He pushed her higher, faster, his fingers moving over her skin until she twisted and writhed beneath him. She was open to everything and Rune knew that he would never have enough of her. She was deeply sensual, reacting to his touch like a fuse to a match. Explosive. Compelling.
“Damn you!” She shouted again, hips still gyrating in a frantic race toward release. “I wanted you in me for this!”
“I will be.” He couldn’t wait. His cock throbbed with need as blood pumped and pulsed inside him. “First you. Go over, Teresa. Stop fighting it, just go over.”
“No, damn it!” She laughed a little wildly and fixed her gaze on him. Dark brown eyes shining with passion and hunger, she stared at him. “I won’t let go and you can’t make me.”
“A challenge,” he whispered, grinning at her now as his thumb moved in a tight circle over and over that nub of flesh until she was groaning and gritting her teeth in an effort to hold her own climax at bay. “You’re still the stubborn witch.”
“Ha!” A short, harsh laugh shot from her throat as her hips lifted again and again. “I’m stubborn? You’re the one who won’t give me what I want!”
“I know what you want, Teresa, and you’ll take it.”
“You bastard,” she whispered, that tight smile still curving her mouth. “Do you want me to beg?”
His free hand snaked up her body to tug and tweak at her rigid nipple. She groaned again, more fiercely this time, as if it took everything she possessed to keep from succumbing to her climax.
“Yes, Teresa,” he coaxed her, loving how she gave herself up completely to the sensual give-and-take between them. Loving her stubborn refusal to climax. Loving every damn thing about her. “Beg.”
She reared up off the bed, grabbed his face between her palms and kissed him hard and long, chewing at his bottom lip in a frenzy of emotion and sensation. When she finally let him go, she snarled, “I won’t.”
Rune laughed and withdrew his hand from her body despite her howl of protest. Instantly, he scooped his hands beneath her, lifted her off the mattress and covered the heart of her with his mouth.
She screamed his name as her body immediately shattered in his grasp. Again and again, her body shook and trembled with the force of a series of orgasms that pushed her close to the brink of madness. Every time he felt one climax end, he pushed her into another one, loving the taste of her as her body melted under his tender assault.
Breathless, boneless, she finally collapsed, unable to call his name or shout epithets at him. Only then did Rune release her. He set her back onto the bed, looked into her eyes and saw those dark brown pools flash with defiance. “You win this time. But next time, I’ll hold out until I get what I want,” she warned him.
“You get it now,” he said, his cock as hard as stone and aching from the torturous wait he’d inflicted on himself.
“Finally!” She grinned and reached for him, but Rune shook his head.
He lifted her, flipped her onto her stomach and drew her behind up. She sighed, understanding exactly what he wanted and she wasted no time letting him know she wanted it, too. She got onto all fours, lowering her head to her crossed arms, and spread her legs wide for him.
Looking back at him, she wiggled her hips in invitation. “Take me, Rune. Give me what I want.”
“Always,” he promised. Grasping her hips, he slid into her from behind and drove himself to the hilt.
That first hard thrust nearly stole his breath as he felt her hot, wet flesh mold itself to his. Her inner muscles still trembled in reaction to the series of orgasms, squeezing his cock in gentle, consistent pulses.
She swiveled her hips, urging him on. Rune didn’t need any encouragement. His own need pushed him now. Again and again, he pulled free of her body only to reclaim it in the most intimate way. She groaned and moved with him, taking him deeper at every thrust, and still he wanted, craved, more.
His hips pistoned against her body as he drove them both to the very brink of release and then stopped. Hovering on the edge, he held perfectly still inside her, relishing the hot slide of her flesh on his, the rapid, gasping breaths shooting from her lungs.
“Don’t you dare stop now,” she ordered, turning her head to fix a dark glare on him.
“I dare much, Teresa. Always have.”
She shuddered when he reached around to stroke the bud of her desire at their bodies’ joining.
“You’re making me crazy,” she muttered, moving into him again, helpless to stand against what he made her feel.
“Good to know,” he said, running his hands over the curve of her behind before holding her hips tight and pulling her even closer.
She sighed and arched her body into his and that was all he could take. He couldn’t wait another moment for the climax hovering just out of his reach. He needed to finish inside her. Needed to stake the claim of the Mating again.
Picking up that hard, fast rhythm once more, Rune wasted no time driving them each to a feverish peak and this time he gave up control and surrendered to his witch. His body exploded into hers and she held him within her, taking all that he was and giving herself over to him in return.
Chapter 38
“Bastard thinks he’s in charge,” Miguel muttered, steering his battered jeep down the rutted desert track that passed for a road.
He was still burning over the incident at the tavern the night before. The insult of that prick knocking him to the floor and sneering at him. What the hell was that about? He was supposed to be a partner in this, wasn’t he? He had romanced Teresa as he’d been instructed to do. Was it his fault the little bitch didn’t fall in line?
Miguel threw himself a look in the rearview mirror and smiled at what he saw. He’d been able to get women to do whatever he wanted since he was fifteen and first realized that women liked the way he looked. Handsome, with an edge of danger, he had women flocking to him like stupid little dogs. And they stayed with him until he decided to cut them loose. Nobody disrespected Miguel Hernandez. Nobody.
And that included that pompous prick with the fire hands.
Big deal. So he could do magic. That made him no better than the very witch they were chasing. He was a mutant. Like Teresa. Like the rest of the women with power. And they all thought they were better than humans. Better than him.
“Well, fuck that,” he said aloud, letting his temper burn unrestrained inside him. He would show them all just how good he was.
They wanted Teresa, fine. He’d show them how it was done. He was finished taking orders. He knew where she was going to show up, so he’d be there. Waiting for her.
“Bastard fire man wants to call the shots, but he’s too stupid to listen to me.” Miguel had told them all that Chiapas was the secret to catching Teresa. No one wanted to just follow his advice and finish this. So, he was on his own. Fuck the rest of them.
He would do this himself and then they’d realize that he was a man to be taken seriously.
The village tavern was already miles behind him and still Miguel was fuming. He’d slipped out just before dawn when the bastard with gray eyes had left on business. Suited Miguel just fine. He had business of his own and when he was done, they’d all have to admit to his face that he was the one who knew what to do. That he, Miguel Hernandez, had come through for them when no one else had.
“When this is over,” he promised himself, “I’m not going to take shit from anybody again. I’ll have the reward money and I’ll get out of this fucking desert and never look back. Then we’ll see who’s the important guy around here. Fucking Parnell with his fire thinks he’s so bad? We’ll see how impressive he is with a bullet in the head.”
He smiled at the thought. Indulging his fantasies made the miles go by faster. Soon he was deep in the desert, heading for Chiapas. And his destiny.
Chapter 39
“Trust the Et
ernal and fear the immortal?” Rune repeated, lying back on the bed and crooking one arm behind his head. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know,” Teresa said.
“Focus your power. Aim the lightning at me.”
“And if I hit you?”
“You can’t kill me.”
She threw a white-hot bolt at him. But he had already flashed away. The lightning hit the cave wall instead, making the crystals buried there light up like neon.
“I’m an Eternal and an immortal,” Rune reminded her unnecessarily when he popped back in just a foot from her.
“That’s what I told her.” Teresa spun, dropped and threw one hand out, spitting sparks from her fingertips.
Rune grinned and disappeared.
“She wouldn’t—or couldn’t, maybe; I don’t know which—explain any further,” Teresa said when Rune flashed back to her side. “She just said that there was danger and that the immortal wanted me, specifically. And not just for the witchcraft.”
“She was right about that, anyway,” Rune whispered, reaching out to grab her.
Teresa jumped away, swung one hand in the air and reached for her magic. “You’re not worried?” she asked.
He flashed to stand behind her, wrapped his arms around her middle and held on. “Worried, no. Interested, yes. Now don’t depend solely on your magic. Conjure a knife. Like I showed you. You never know what you’ll have to fight with.”
Teresa held out one hand, focused her gaze on her palm and in a moment a long-bladed knife, gleaming silver in the torchlight, lay in her hand. She smiled, curled her fingers around the hilt, then swung it experimentally through the air.
Admiration for her swelled inside Rune. She’d been practicing. This time together had been good for her. Time to mate. Time to focus on her growing power. Time to connect to each other in a way that they hadn’t over the centuries. Her magical skills were impressive. She hadn’t needed teaching—only to remember her own past and what she had once done as easily as breathing.
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