by Leia Shaw
“Whoa!” She turned her head away from the heat until it settled down into a passable torch. Satisfaction burned in her chest and she grinned.
“Well done, witch.” Instead of disappointment, Geo looked at her with pride.
She raised her chin. “I’m not without some power.” Though compared to most witches, her skill level was intermediate at best.
“How long will it last?”
“Through the whole tunnel,” she said smiling. I think.
He nodded and held out his hand. “Give me the lighter. I’ll put it back in my pack.”
She dropped it in his hand and as soon as it touched his skin, it came to life, a tall flame bursting out the top.
“Ow!” Geo dumped the thing on the ground. The flame went out when it hit the dirt. He cradled his burnt hand. “What was that?”
“Sorry.”
He pursed his lips. “Explain.”
“Um.” She cringed. “My magic is somewhat…unpredictable.”
His sigh was disheartening.
“I can heal it for you. I know several spells that –”
“No!” He flinched back.
She frowned. Great. She was so unstable she scared the big, bad demon. Maybe she should take it as a compliment.
“I mean, no thank you. Look.” He held out his burnt hand. “It’s healing already.” At her sad nod, his eyes softened and he added, “You’re obviously very talented, but we can’t afford any setbacks.”
Yeah, yeah, quit fucking up. Story of my life.
Scooping up the now harmless lighter, he looked at her again. “Stay silent and don’t touch anything.”
Geo led the way through the tunnel with the torch in his hand – her torch. She was starting to feel like the helpless damsel again.
“How do you know the way out?” she asked, louder than she’d meant.
He tossed her a sharp look over his shoulder. “Shh! Trust.”
She rolled her eyes. “Trust me,” she muttered irritably. “I’ll keep you safe. I’ll only burn the skin off your shoulders then force you straight into the home of a mutant worm bent on making you his breakfast.”
“Lunch.”
She snapped her head up. “What?”
“It’s lunchtime, not breakfast.” He was laughing at her again.
Childish, but she had the urge to whack him over the head with something hard. Where’s a femur bone when you need one? She sighed. Well, he did save her life. More than once. She’d have ended up a werewolf pack gang bang if it weren’t for him. Had she thanked him for that?
“Geo?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you. For saving me.”
His shoulders stiffened. “It wasn’t selfless. But you’re welcome.”
Right. He needed her as much as she needed him. Everything he did was for his own purpose. She would do well to remember that.
They walked in silence for a long time and the air chilled with each passing hour, signaling night had fallen on the Underworld. She dared a glance around her. The torch lit up the walls and ceiling of the tunnel. On her left, a centipede the length of her arm scurried down the wall. Above her, what looked like an earthworm that had swallowed a glow stick stood out against a shadowy crevice. She quickened her pace to follow only inches behind Geo. With a shudder she forced her gaze to the back of his shirt.
Don’t look. Pretend it’s not there. Maybe it’ll all go away.
She looked up and another glowing worm peered back at her, as if to say “what’s your problem, bitch?”
Ugh.
Geo stumbled when she stepped on his heel. He looked back at her with his brows raised.
“Sorry,” she muttered.
“You’re not scared of a few bugs, are you?”
A witch? Scared of bugs? Unheard of. Bugs and reptiles made up most of their potions. They could even invoke certain animal spirits for spells. Witches embraced all forms of life – anything that Mother Earth created was theirs to use. Except for Samantha. Part of being a Blackthorn.
“Yes, you’re stuck with the one witch squeamish about bugs. Deal with it.”
“Ah, now they won’t hurt you if you don’t bother them.”
“I’ve heard that before.” When she’d been stung by a bee. Then again, a few years later, just before she’d been bitten by fire ants. Was it any wonder she hated them?
And now she was traveling through a giant worm tunnel feeling a lot like the too-stupid-to-live girl in a B-grade horror film. Cue the spooky spider music.
A distant rumble sounded from behind them and a sprinkling of dirt fell from the ceiling. She covered her head with her arms, spun around, and came face-to-face with a –
“Ahh!” The bugs on the walls scrambled away from her scream. The monstrous spider, six inches from her face, climbed back up its web.
Geo growled from behind her. A thundering roar came from the darkness. The tunnel shook. More dirt rained down from the ceiling. The ground trembled and the rumbling grew closer.
With a sharp glare, he grabbed Samantha around the waist and unsheathed his sword.
Why weren’t they running? “Geo?”
“When I tell you to, take a deep breath and hold it.”
What!
The ground shook so hard it was difficult to stay standing. Sand and dirt and bugs fell down all around them. The thundering grew closer. Geo squared his shoulders and faced the direction of the noise.
Closer it came.
Oh no. No, no, no, no.
She fought to get out of his grip. Her heart raced and a sinking feeling rose in her belly. Geo only held her tighter and stared into the deep black tunnel. She was in a panic now.
Then it stopped. It was silent except for her beating heart and Geo’s steady breaths. He shoved the torch forward and lit up the area in front of them. A centipede crawled across the ground. She startled when something moved above them but it was just that damned spider making its way to the ceiling. Beyond the few yards lit up by the fire, it was pure black.
They waited.
A soft plop behind them made her gasp. She looked over her shoulder. An oversized beetle had fallen to the floor.
She turned back around. Geo narrowed his eyes, staring into the darkness. Was it over? “Um –”
He stiffened. “Hold your breath!”
A loud whoosh swept through the tunnel like an airplane taking off.
It came out of nowhere – a giant red toothless mouth, wide open. She screamed then they were inside.
Swimming. Suffocating in goo. She couldn’t see, couldn’t hear. Just fought her way through the jelly vacuum. Geo’s arm remained unyielding around her as she felt him thrust and stab with the sword. Her lungs burned. She couldn’t tell up from down. She kicked and flailed in a panic. Her head spun and just when she thought she’d pass out, the worm exploded and they poured to the ground in a fountain of blood.
She was alive.
On her hands and knees, she sucked in a deep breath then blew worm goo out her nose and mouth. It stank like death. She gagged once then vomited the contents of her stomach. With a groan, she fell forward onto her elbows, resting her head on her hands.
“I fucking hate this place,” she hissed through her teeth.
The torch was out and the tunnel pitch black. Something moved beside her.
“Geo?”
“I’m here.” The flame from the lighter stood out against the darkness then the torch came to life, casting a dull light around them. Blood spattered the tunnel walls and ceiling. Pieces of worm goo dripped down onto the bloody ground. Well, what’s a horror movie without a few gallons of blood?
Geo looked down at her, his skin and clothing dyed dark red. But he stood straight like a pillar of strength, his expression fierce, and muscles bulging. How could a man possibly look sexy covered in worm guts? Meanwhile, she looked like the crazy chick from the movie Carrie. It just wasn’t fair.
And how did he make the torch? Her one contribution proved
null.
He held out his hand. “Come on. I smell water. Hopefully there’s somewhere to clean up.”
She rose to her aching feet without his help then got a closer look at his torch. He’d tied a piece of fabric around the end of the bone.
He noticed her gaze and said, with a small smile, “Apparently worm guts are flammable.”
She couldn’t help herself. She laughed. It sounded hysterical, but she didn’t care. She laughed hard, holding her cramping stomach.
Geo arched a brow. “You done?”
Her chuckles faded. “Yes.”
They started through the dark tunnel once more.
Chapter 6
“Why aren’t you yelling at me?” Samantha asked as they trudged through the bits of dead worm littering the floor.
He looked at her, puzzled. “Why would I yell at you?”
“For screaming. It was my fault we got eaten by that…thing.”
“I never yell.” Geo’s ability to remain level-headed was what got him his position in Ares’ army. And it was probably the only reason he wasn’t in hell right now. A translucent spider with blue veins scurried across his shoe. Ah, he may not be in Hades, but he was in hell all right.
“You never yell?” She snorted. “We’ll see about that.”
He couldn’t resist teasing her. “It wasn’t entirely your fault. You’re a girl. I should’ve known you’d scream like one when you saw a spider.”
Just as he’d expected, she huffed. “That’s insulting.”
“But it’s true, isn’t it?”
He chuckled softly when she didn’t answer.
Five silent minutes later she asked, in a curious voice, “You really don’t yell?”
His half-brothers had goaded him for that very thing. Pushing him to provoke his temper. His mother called him do̱ri̱tí̱eirí̱ni – peace giver. “Yelling is an expression of anger. Anger is a good thing in small amounts. It spurs change. But getting angry over something I can’t change is pointless. And I’m not one to waste my time doing something for nothing.”
She grew silent again. It made him wonder what she’d expected him to do. A lecture and a beating? He’d killed men, but he’d never struck a woman and he certainly didn’t plan to start now – no matter how frustrating a certain witch was becoming.
The smell of water grew closer. Finally, they stepped out of the dark tunnel and into a wide circular opening. Above them, fire bugs covered the ceiling, creating a warm glow over a natural spring.
Samantha squealed with delight when she saw it. She ran forward then stopped and turned to him. “Is it safe?”
He didn’t sense danger. The cavern was empty aside from the fire bugs and a few other insects. The water smelled fresh and clean. “Yes, but be careful. I don’t know how deep it is.”
Her bright smile rivaled the sun and his heart clenched. She dropped her satchel and sword on the ground and walked straight into the water – shoes, clothing, and all.
“It’s warm,” she said gleefully.
“Go slow.”
“I will.”
Turning his back on her, he went in search of kindling for a fire.
Once he had a decent fire going, he emptied his pack. He laid the blanket on the ground and placed the clay pot with leftover stew onto the fire. Then he retrieved what he knew would be the way into the woman’s heart. Not that he wanted her heart. But he sure did like to see her smile.
He stripped off his clothing, grabbed his little gift then waded into the water.
Samantha turned toward him then gasped and spun back around. “Could you warn a girl?”
He chuckled at her modesty. She’d have to get over that. He only had one clean shirt for her to wear tonight.
“Don’t come over here!”
In the dim light he could see her near-naked form facing the cavern wall. Pink bra straps blended into her peachy skin.
“I have a gift.”
“I’m just sure you do.”
Well, yes, he had that kind of gift too. “Sam. You’ll want this one.”
She turned her head to look over her shoulder, curiosity written on her face. He held out the bar of soap.
She gasped and spun to face him fully. “Oh my God, I could kiss you!”
To his surprise, she flung her arms around his neck and planted a big kiss on his lips. He’d forgotten how soft a woman’s lips were. And she tasted like the sugar candy his mother gave him as a boy.
His arms itched to wrap around her, pull her closer, but she broke away too fast. She stepped back, a big grin stretched across her face. He fought to keep his gaze from her breasts.
“Samantha, I –” He cleared his throat. “You can’t…”
Her smile faded. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I’m just…” She looked deep into his eyes for a soul-searching moment. “Just…thank you.”
She was so open and trusting and her skin so soft, and even with the worm guts she still smelled feminine. He swallowed hard. No, Geo. You can’t have her. “You’re welcome. But I’m just fulfilling my promise.”
She dropped her gaze. “I know.”
Shit. He hadn’t meant to hurt her. But in the end, he’d do worse than that. An uncomfortable knot formed in his chest. Means to an end, he chanted in his head.
It was silent for a while, except for the soft splashes as Samantha scrubbed her clothing. She ducked down into the water and began washing her hair.
“Do you need help?” His croaking voice surprised him.
“No.”
He waited until she finished then asked, “Are you done with the soap?”
“Yeah. Here.” Still facing away, she held it out behind her.
His gaze locked on her slender shoulders. The angry sunburn had lightened to a freckled pink. He had the urge to trace those freckles with his tongue. And now, after using his soap, she smelled like him. He almost hummed with contentment.
Means to an end. The mantra was beginning to lose meaning.
When he finished cleaning himself and his clothes, he walked to the blanket and pulled on his extra set of leather pants. He looked at Sam, her back barely visible in the distance.
“Come on out. You can wear my spare T-shirt.”
“Um. Just leave it on the rock. I’ll be out in a minute.”
A few minutes later, he heard the water swish as she stepped out of the pool. He gave her privacy while she dried off and put his shirt on, though it almost killed him. He pictured her naked, water drops dotted along her plump breasts. Her smooth belly and shapely hips – hips he could grab a hold of while pumping into her from behind. Shaking his head, he tried to clear the image. His cock couldn’t get any harder without exploding.
“You can turn around,” she said, startling him from his thoughts.
After a deep breath, he did. The first thing he noticed was her silky thighs barely covered by his black shirt, so dark in contrast to her pale skin. For a moment, he was glad he’d packed the shorter one. But it’d be a long night of torture knowing she was bare underneath.
A pair of fingers snapped in front of his face. “Snap out of it! Geez. Haven’t you seen a woman before?”
His gaze moved from her thighs to her face. “Of course. There are females of every species here. But I haven’t touched one in almost two hundred years.”
She gazed up at him, surprise in her eyes. “Oh.”
He smiled and ran a knuckle down her cheek, catching a drip of water. “And you are the tastiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Where the hell had that come from?
She blushed a pretty pink. “Yes, well,” – she cleared her throat – “you haven’t touched a woman in two hundred years. I’ll bet a harpy looks good to you.”
He moved his hand along her cheek then stroked her wet hair. Stop this! “I never knew freckles could be so sexy.”
Her breathing turned shaky as she stared up at him.
Get a hold of yourself, man! He blinked and the spel
l was gone. “You can hang your clothes to dry over there.”
He pointed to a rope he’d rigged as a clothing line then walked to the fire before he did something stupid like take her to the ground and taste those pretty pink breasts.
Her soft sigh seemed to echo across the cavern.
When she finished hanging her clothes, he pointed to the blanket. “Sit.”
She did.
He handed her the warm bowl of stew with cloth wrapped around it so it didn’t burn her. “Eat.”
She took the bowl with a soft thank you. He felt a surge of pride when she hungrily slurped the contents. Providing for her just felt right.
No. He gave his head a shake. She wasn’t his. During his centuries in the god realm he’d taken many women in lust. But he’d never loved one. Maybe he was a hopeless romantic but he believed in true love. There was a woman somewhere in the god realm that was meant for him and him alone. One day he would find her – spoil her, protect her, possess her in every way. By the gods, he looked forward to that day. Life was getting too long to be alone.
But there was nothing for him here in the Underworld. And the witch, though soft and strong all at once, was nothing more than an object to use to get home. She wouldn’t even be able to slake his lust if she wanted to. She was too fragile, he too rough. His kind were dominant in bed – demanding. A woman like Samantha would never accept him that way.
“You don’t talk much do you?” she said, handing him the bowl.
He peered inside and frowned when he found it half-full. “Not unless I have something important to say. I find comfort in silence.” He pushed the bowl back to her. “Eat the rest.”
She shook her head. “You eat it. I’ve had enough and you need it too.”
He obliged her and finished the soup. When he looked back at her, she wore a lopsided grin. “That’s a cryptic look,” he said.
“’Let us be silent that we may hear the whispers of the gods.’” She exhaled a humorless laugh. “Ralph Waldo Emerson.”
He didn’t know this Ralph but he’d clearly never met the gods. They didn’t whisper, they commanded.