by Claudy Conn
“And what do you want, beauty?”
Lamia threw off her sweater, exposing her bare full breasts, and he groaned as he reached up to fondle them. She had his ready harness in her hands, and she pushed her skirt up to her waist. She hadn’t bothered to don any underwear, so she hurriedly climbed onto him. “This … this is what I want!” Lamia breathed as she threw back her head and savored the moment.
Maxie closed her eyes to block out the vision, but it just wouldn’t go away. She beat at the air with her small fists and begged, “Out … let me out of here …”
Lamia drove him into her and started riding him like a wild woman. He was holding her breasts as she worked him with her hungry body. She willed him to stay hard with a chant. She hadn’t made love in nearly two hundred years, and she wanted the moment to last. She pulled off him and turned around, giving him her butt. He reached around her and held her breasts as he drove into her again, grunting with pleasure.
Maxie discovered that she was able to shade the vision so that it wasn’t clear, but she could still hear their voices and their grunts. She put her hands to her ears and started humming and screeching in hopes of blotting it out.
Lamia climaxed and allowed him to do the same, but a moment later, her eyes narrowed and she asked him, “You were on your way home?”
“Yes.”
“To your wife?”
“Yes.”
She looked down at his softened dick and then into his eyes. “You are a puny man. She is better off without you.” So saying, she stuck the Silver Thorn into the artery in his neck and began drinking his blood.
There was nothing he could do. Lamia could have left him alive; she could have … but at the last moment, she wanted him dead, and so she drained him of his last breath.
Maxie called on her Druid place with all her might, “I want out … I want out now … out …” but the scene was still unfolding as Lamia gathered her clothing, dressed, and ran towards her home.
It wasn’t long before Lamia was back in her bedroom and standing by her balcony window thinking how easy it had been. Her body no longer ached with hunger. Once more she could think.
Maxie heard Shamon’s strong, concerned bellow, “My lady …?” Shamon was still traveling, not yet at her side.
“Dear Shamon,” Lamia cooed.
“My lady … what have you done?”
“What I had to do.”
“Did you kill?”
“I did.”
“Oh my lady, no. These are different times. The police can track evidence. If you left blood … fibers … hair … they can eventually track such things to you …”
“Then we shall not leave these things the next time.” She shrugged to herself. “This time, they have nothing to compare my hair and my fingerprints to. I read of these things when I was imprisoned in the Mist of the Realm.”
“Oh my Lady …” Shamon repeated, and there was heaviness in his tone. She had killed. She needed blood, but he couldn’t understand her need to kill.
Maxie heard him whisper to himself, “She is who she is …” He adored and worshipped a monster, and he knew it.
Maxie heard his thoughts as though he was speaking them out loud, and she knew that Shamon could not be trusted. He worshipped DuLaine still. He would not betray her … and he certainly would not help bring her down.
* * *
It was nine o’clock, and dinner was over. Maxie, Julian, and Uncle Kennet had moved into the library. Maxie was still a bit shaken by her most recent vision and had not even told Uncle Kennet about it yet. She was trying out the words in her mind, and it wasn’t easy.
Uncle Kennet’s voice had sounded wide awake only a moment ago as he quoted something he thought they should know from one of the old Celtic texts he had been perusing. However, Maxie’s head snapped around as he made a long, deep snort. She laughed at finding he had fallen asleep head down on the huge, leather-bound book.
She affectionately looked at his sleeping face and thought how he always made her smile. She then glanced up to find Julian still on the second story of the library looking for a book he needed for his research. So Maxie settled on the sofa and took to staring into the fire.
This last DuLaine vision had set her off kilter. She could feel danger nearby, and it was a red neon sign. She felt magic on the prowl; its power was itching in her brain. She knew her abilities were growing and making her edgy. She could feel the Druid mana of seeing, hearing, feeling things beyond her scope become almost maddening. She had entered the vision simply by thinking of DuLaine. She had not been able to leave, and she sensed it was because her inner magic self knew she had to stay in the vision to its conclusion.
In addition to everything that was going on was the fact that she had been actively playing with what she called her Druid place. Tonight, all night thus far, that place had been tingling as though it were calling her to listen and look at something right before her eyes. With Julian occupied and Uncle Kennet in la la land, she took another go at it and got … nothing, absolutely nothing!
She looked up and felt Julian’s penetrating gaze as he called her to order. “What is it, Miss Reigate?”
“I … hmm …” Maxie shook her head. “All good here.”
“It is not all good. Might as well come clean.”
“Look … I have this place in my head … I suppose you have it as well … this place I call my Druid place?” She didn’t wait for him to answer as she hurried on. “I have discovered that I can … view … or what I believe is a bit different than just viewing. I think the Druids call it probing—”
“You probed the DuLaine …?” he asked sharply.
“Yes, the DuLaine,” Maxie admitted. She wasn’t about to tell him everything yet. She needed time.
He was down the circular staircase so fast Max couldn’t tell if he jumped or was beamed down by Scotty. He had her shoulders. “Are you probing her now? Don’t!” he shouted at her.
He had taken hold of her and was holding her in a way that made her want to sink into his embrace. What was wrong with him though? She thought he would understand. He must have just such a place as well. Maxie didn’t know the knack of shutting it off at will and hoped he might be able to teach her, but instead he was glaring at her and shaking her by her shoulders. She objected with a sharp, “Hey!”
He dropped his hands and said quietly and in control, “Don’t you realize that if you find her … she can find you? The DuLaine will feel your probe and return on the same, shall we call it, radio wave.” Julian paused and waited for his words to sink in.
Maxie knew instinctively that he was correct. However, she had not gone probing on purpose. It was something that had just happened. And at any rate, she had safely visited the past, not the present, and therefore believed DuLaine knew zilch. What Maxie needed was to find a way of controlling her ‘mind-viewing’ or probing until she could put up a shield. Also, she needed to be able to shut it down at will.
Julian regarded her with narrowed eyes and said, “That’s right. You have more to learn before you start in that direction.”
She was surprised. It was as though he had read her mind. She raised a brow. “How do you know what I can and can’t do?”
His blue eyes were dark with thoughts he wasn’t going to share. “When did you discover you had the power of Deep Probe?”
“I call it ‘mind view’, and only recently.” She wondered whether he would answer her next question. “Do you—have that ability?”
He smiled. “Why do you ask? You must have guessed that I do. What you really want to know is how far advanced I am?”
“Well?”
“I am advanced enough to know when to use, and when not to use Deep Probe.”
Maxie was annoyed with him. He was acting arrogant and superior. Whatever kinder feelings she had nurtured for him earlier that day vanished. She pulled a face at him and looked away. She had thought he would teach her how to turn it on and off at will. He was behavi
ng like an ass.
He couldn’t resist trying to win back her attention. “The art of Deep Probing is a rare occurrence amongst Druids.”
Max digested this for a moment and then returned her green eyes to his blue. “And yet, here we are, two Druids in the same room with the same ability.”
“So then, you have probed DuLaine. Do you think she felt you there?” He returned to the subject of his interest.
Maxie sighed. “No. In fact, I am reasonably certain she did not. What I probed as you call it was the past. It had already happened.”
He looked at her with obvious surprise and said thoughtfully, “I see … unusual.” After a moment he asked, “ … and?”
Maxie wasn’t sure she wanted to tell him anything more. She shrugged. “I am not certain … everything was so confusing.”
He accepted this but wagged a finger at her. “Don’t do it again.”
“But … it wasn’t as if I—” Maxie started to tell him her problem and ask for help.
He interrupted her. “No probing, at least not until you are able to put up shields against her.”
“So what you are saying is I have to learn the knack of calling on a shield that as a Druid I possess.” Great, how was she supposed to do that? She didn’t have a clue.
“When we have put you to the test. When you can Deep Probe and leave no trail … no scent of yourself. It takes more than will power, Miss Reigate. It takes training. When I say you are ready, then you will be ready. We will begin working on it soon.” He sighed heavily. “Now, Miss Reigate, I am going to ask you again, because I don’t believe you were confused. There isn’t much that confuses you.”
Maxie screwed up her mouth as she came to a decision and then blurted out, “She made her first kill, and Shamon … Shamon is not to be trusted.” No need to tell him about the sex part she’d had to watch.
While Julian was deep in thought, she glanced at Uncle Kennet. He had slept through their entire conversation and was presently snoring comfortably. “And that is the gist of it, so I am going to go up to bed.” She got up from the sofa and started for Uncle Kennet to wake him, but Talbot stayed her.
“Leave him be. I have some more work I still have to do … I’ll wake him when I’m done. Jet lag is finally making him crash.”
Maxie smiled fondly towards her uncle and thought how lucky she was to have him. A sudden fear touched her. She had to keep him safe from the DuLaine. Lamia DuLaine had no way of knowing about him, and Maxie meant to keep it that way. After all, Uncle Kennet was not a target and, therefore, not in any real danger.
She turned back to Julian, and again wondered if he were reading her mind as he said without her asking, “He’ll be fine. I’ll look out for him.”
She nodded an okay and started off. At the door she turned and looked at his lord superior and noted that he was just standing there watching her. The expression in his bright blue eyes sent an undeniable tickle up and down her spine. Hurriedly she managed to squeak out a good night and left the library.
* * *
Upstairs, Maxie opened her bedroom door and discovered a half-naked Royal prince, in something of an agitated state, pacing madly in her bedroom. He was wearing a tight pair of black leather pants, but the only thing that adorned his upper half was the gold torque at his neck and a gold armband on each of his massive upper arms. His dark blonde hair was slicked back, braided, and tied at the nape of his neck. He was a hunk of serious eye candy, and she took a moment to gaze.
“What are you doing in here?” Green eyes opened wide with her question.
He was already in front of her as his words in that delicious accent of his floated on the air. “Waiting for you.”
“Well, I can see that, but why I mean why here … in my room? Why didn’t you join us in the library? When did you get here?” She didn’t ask by what means. She had already noted that he came and went through poof power. He was here. He was gone. He was a Fae, which meant anything she couldn’t explain she put down as being Fae magic. She was a real true believer, and she was a Druid. She no longer had time to question such things; they just were, and she dealt with them.
“Because I wanted to see you alone, that’s why.” He had her wrapped in his very warm, exciting embrace. In fact, she was beginning to seriously think it was time to give it up and start enjoying herself. Opportunities like these … well, they just didn’t happen every day. Being with the prince would be nothing but a short time of lust—how could it be otherwise? He was a Fae. He lived forever. She was a human. She wouldn’t. Nice and simple. At any rate, she decided after what she had been going through, she deserved, at the very least, his kiss.
Besides, she reasoned, all women, everywhere, deserved to be kissed in just the way she expected the prince of Dagda was going to kiss her. You don’t have to be in love to enjoy a really primal, sensual, and oh so satisfying kiss, she told herself. Maxie decided to give herself to the moment—love or not.
His tongue found its way inside her mouth, setting her blood tingling with anticipation, and then his tongue taught her the meaning of touch. Without words it softly whispered how much he had missed her, wanted her—longed for her. His scent filled her nostrils with pine and vanilla. His stroking was slow and delicate, and it made her want to lose herself to the sensation. She wanted to stay locked in his embrace. She wanted to know the kind of passion he was definitely offering.
So of course, she pulled away. Get a grip! Maxie told herself. This guy is Fae, and you could wind up falling for his exotic self. She thought her friends would be slapping her across her head and telling her to go for it.
“Ah, Lia … you don’t really want me to stop,” Princey whispered softly.
“Do I intrude?” Julian’s voice was cold and his presence stiff as he stood at Maxine’s open doorway.
Oh God, she realized at once, she had forgotten to close the door, and of course, what did a prince care for doors? He did what he wanted—doors opened or closed.
“No … no … the prince and I were just … talking …” Maxie answered hurriedly as her hand pulled down her blue sweater, which had somehow risen above her now bare midriff.
“I came up on the chance that you might still be awake,” Julian said to her without looking at Breslyn. His words were delivered with a frost lining. “I have found something …”—now he looked directly at the prince—“ … that both of you might be interested in seeing.”
This surprised Max, but Breslyn, who apparently saw only one reason for Julian’s intrusion, displayed his displeasure with body language and tone. “I am astounded that you think I could be lured away from my Lia with such … a ploy.” He didn’t smile. “I have what I need right here.” He looked at Maxie meaningfully, and she felt her cheeks blaze scarlet.
“Then … don’t let me interrupt.” Julian clenched his jaw as he backed away.
“Wait!” Maxie called and scowled at the prince. “Of course we want to see what you found.”
Maxie tried to move towards Julian, but the prince blocked her path and stood like a huge stock between them. “What could you have possibly found to interest us?” His words belied his interest. The prince was no fool. He knew Julian had discovered something of value. He could sense the excitement in Julian, and Maxie saw him attempt to look at the codex in Julian’s large hands.
Maxie could see that Julian was getting great pleasure by keeping the contents of the manuscript out of his view. It was certainly obvious to her the prince was trying to establish ‘possession of the woman’.
Apparently, she was the woman, and although women were supposed to enjoy men fighting over them, she was in agony. In fact, she was downright embarrassed by the display.
Julian’s stare was dangerously threatening. So, for that matter, was Breslyn’s. They stood for a long moment in an ‘age-old’ manner of testosterone heat. Max was trying, really trying to come up with something to say, when Julian surprised her by calmly saying, “As a matter of fact, what I ha
ve found in this ancient journal—hidden away in a secret compartment behind a row of bookshelves—is incredible.” He paused and looked past the prince at Maxie.
This was exciting news. Secret compartments? Secret journals? Max glanced at Breslyn, and he was frowning, obviously annoyed that Julian had managed to catch her interest, and then Julian was looking at him again. “This ancient codex was put together by one of my ancestors who was a direct descendent of Conall, High Druid Priest.”
“And this should interest me because …?” Breslyn’s royal chin was up, and his amazingly silver glittering eyes were cold. In that moment, Maxie saw, really saw the ancient in him. Deep in the recesses of those frigid gray eyes was an alien being, and she should remember that.
“Ah, my mistake. I thought that the queen had taken you into her confidence. I thought you knew about her Druid priest, Conall.”
The prince of Dagda went frigid. He definitely looked as though cold blue ice lined his soft, velvety skin.
All at once, Breslyn remembered the significance of the name, Conall. His queen’s Druid lover all those centuries ago. “The devil you say!”
“Ah, then I interest you?”
“What of Conall?” Breslyn roared.
Blue eyes stared hard into silver. “It is written in Gaelic by an ancestor of mine from the fifteenth century who thought it was time to put down the story that had been told only by word of mouth from son to son. Although I am pretty good with modern Gaelic, arcane Gaelic has a very different nuance, and I thought perhaps you would like to have a look at this journal and help me translate?”
“Show me,” the prince of Dagda commanded and started forward. However, as was his style, a style that Maxie admitted to herself was endearing, he stopped and turned to her. It displayed so completely that he had not forgotten her, even in the heat of the moment, as he offered his hand. “Lia.” Again when he spoke to her, his voice was gentle and warm.
Maxie heard her conscience demand, What are you doing? as she took his hand. Wrong impression here!