Elysium?
Elysium?
She wants to take Sol to that manwhore pit full of horny Hyrens and Incubi?
“Why couldn’t Sillizi answer her phone?” I mumble to myself.
“We’re both insanely busy. I told you.”
“Doing what, exactly?”
“If I could tell you, buddy, I would. Trust me, I so would.” Her breath hitches a bit at the end.
Turmoil.
The one thing neither of those stone-hearted bitches ever feel.
Not that they’re cold, but some emotions—like uncertainty, fear, love for the male sex—are beyond their species’ normal ability to process.
They’re the last of their kind, remnants of an almost-emotionless race of sentinels that once walked this Earth.
The real reason the legend of the Amazons arose—the Skadyz. One of the most vicious, callous, and powerful group of females to have ever existed, capable of not only transforming into pure stone, but of growing their bodies to the size of mountains.
Aside from anger and excitement, those two are some of the steadiest beings I’ve ever met.
Or they were. That slight panic in her tone ignites my own worry, especially with all the other crazy shit that’s been going down the last month. “Liz, what did Nylicia send you guys to do?” I ask in a soft tone.
“I can’t tell you.”
So they swore silence to the Watcher before undertaking her task. Two females that we barely tell anything to because getting those oaths out of them without some form of payment is straight-up impossible.
Shit, what the fuck did Nylicia offer them?
“All I can say is that it’s bad.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said it’s bad, man. Also, how the hell do any of you live with this whole guilt thing? It’s fucking annoying to lug that weight around.”
Bad.
Guilt.
Seriously, what the fuck is Nylicia up to?
Soleria stops by one of the tables to greet the guests seated there. Smiling, she nods—and catches sight of me standing out here, glaring into her establishment like an unhinged animal.
Before she can look too deeply into my expression, I do the same thing I’ve been doing for weeks; I will a Gnetica within an inch or two of my body, projecting to the world what I want it to see.
The drain is instant. Annoying. The amount of power it takes to will a Gnetica this precise . . . well, only a handful of beings have ever mastered the skill, my best friend and his brothers being among them. I picked up on how to do it a few centuries ago, but I never practiced. Never got good at it.
The first time I decided to try it, I didn’t even think it was going to work, what with that little hellion in there being able to see through the energy shields.
To my surprise, it has. Well, when I pump insane amounts of energy and concentration into it. Which is a blessing. How else was I going to hide my constant, deranged hard-ons from that woman?
“Ian? Hellloooo? Reality to Ian? Dude, I’m talking to you. Stop drooling after her for two seconds and listen.”
I jerk my stare away from Soleria and practically growl into my phone. Something I know she can’t see thanks to the Gnetica. All she’ll catch a gander of is me standing out here, all nice and polite and calm, as I continue my friendly conversation.
“Fuck you and your ancestors, Liz. No one’s drooling after her.”
“Really? Okay. So call in Cyake. He’ll watch over her gladly. He adores her.”
As a friend, the wolf inside me growls, sounding desperate to remind itself. A friend, only.
Besides, is she crazy? Then again, she wasn’t there a few days ago when Evesse finally woke up. Cyake had to call in both Zexistr and Keiros to help flood her with enough energy for her to control her own powers and the emerging mating.
Soleria trembled at the sight of all three of them together.
Trembled.
“You’re clearly misinformed, if you think that’s a good idea,” I advise her “nicely”.
The Goddess of Light’s tinkling laugh leaves me grinding my teeth. “Yeah, okay. Anyway, as I was saying, I’d totally show up tonight and take her to Elysium after work—”
“And like I said, I really wish Sil had picked up her phone.”
Another laugh. “Dude, she’s itching to take her there even more than I am. Also, isn’t it a little hypocritical considering you’re asking me to babysit so you can hit Sphynx and get your dick sucked? What if she wants a little lip-to-lip south of the—bro, you okay? I’ve heard some weird sounds from your werewolf ass over the millennia, but that one’s not quite right. You suffocating or something?”
“I fucking hate you, Liz. Passionately. Eternally.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see a white KIA pull up to the curb and double park. A teenager exits, wearing a polo. In his arms is a huge flower arrangement.
“Nah, you just hate the infinite wisdom that comes out of my mouth.”
The guy struggling under the weight of that massive flower arrangement wobbles his way towards the door.
The door of the restaurant.
Who the fuck is he here for with those flowers?
Stupid question. Stupppidddd. It’s been a week since she got that call from her ex—no, not just her ex, as I found out. That POS, good-for-nothing, convinced he’s a PMF, swagmaster-wannabe is her ex-fiancé.
The man she was once going to marry.
How do I know that grody little bitch thinks he’s a pretty motherfucker?
I might’ve checked his FB.
What? If he doesn’t get with the program and stop stalking Soleria, I needed to know what he looks like for when I hunt him down.
Which is obviously happening, if those flowers are heading where I think they’re heading.
And Nick Grant isn’t the only one constantly reaching out for another chance.
Three days ago, it was Michael, some dude she supposedly only went on a single date with.
He wanted to fucking marry her the moment he saw her.
Again with the inner huffing from my Hyren instincts. As if they’re graduating from mere thought patterns into becoming a seperate, rebellious male inside me. Can you blame him? Who wouldn’t want to?
Certainly not you, so shut the fuck up.
Oh. And the day before yesterday? Another ex from her teenaged-years, Stephen, decided to stop by the restaurant, all American-good looks, pretty boy smile, and an obsession with hugging her to him.
He left within minutes. I made sure of it.
Yesterday Ricky stopped by, too. Ricky, who for a period of about four months, got to be Soleria’s bootycall.
Ricky, with his supposedly big dick—which I know she blurted out accidentally when I asked—who was a “great lay” but couldn’t take the hint when she told him she wasn’t ready for more.
Ricky, oh Ricky.
Soleria doesn’t know this, but he had a warrant out in his name for a minor violation. Only a night in jail, nothing too big, but I might’ve assured that little one night, celled-getaway took place.
What? I’m a god. Of course I have friends in “high”, human places.
The delivery boy with the flowers walks towards the counter. Soleria catches sight of him with that mini-garden he’s heaved inside and begins to do the same.
“Gotta go,” I tell Liz, ending the call and heading back inside. By the time I make it to the counter, Soleria’s already signing for the flowers, gifting that stunned delivery boy with one of her glowing smiles.
“Here’s a tip.” She hands him a rolled bill, fingers brushing his.
Swear to Illion, I scent the boy’s testosterone shoot through the roof. His eyes even roll back a little as her touch ignites a series of electrical shocks down his hormonally-flooded, teenaged-spine.
One glare from me fixes the problem real fast. I drop the Gnetica long enough to let him catch a glimpse of what’s really going on in my facial area. His eyes widen and the stark bit
e of fear leaks off his skin.
He’s gone the next instant, high-tailing it towards that KIA as if it’s going to save his life.
Probably just did.
“Will you freaking stop already?” Soleria hisses at me, smiling for a couple as they walk out. “You’ve been a fucking gremlin all day. Stop with the psycho pouts before you start scaring all my customers away.” She reaches for the card attached to that gaudy vase.
Psycho pouts? Whatever. “Who sent those?” I ask her, willing the Gnetica back in place.
Soleria pauses, baby-blues blinking as she looks around.
Another thing she’s started doing. Almost like she’s somehow sensing every time I use my powers to create the energy shield.
Shrugging, she goes back to reading the card.
The way her facial expression hardens tells me everything I need to know.
Nick Grant will be getting a visit soon. Real soon.
“Give me. I’ll throw them out.” I reach for the vase.
She grabs one of the rags on the counter and snaps it at me. “Leave my flowers alone.”
“What? You can’t be serious. You aren’t really going to keep the flowers that cheating douchebag sent you.”
“I thought you’d appreciate a man that sleeps around.” She waves at yet another group exiting through the doors, smiling.
Alright. I gotta drop the Gnetica for this one. She needs to see just how fucking ridiculous that comment is. “I’ve never cheated on a female before.”
Soleria ignores my all-powerful glower and walks around the counter. “Oh, that’s right. My bad. Of course you haven’t. After all, your old ass has never actually been in a relationship.”
Curling my lips on a growl, I reach for the vase again.
She stops me with a glare so frosty, it actually freezes me in place. “You will leave my flowers alone. Capiche? Now go make yourself useful and help us start loading the trays. I’m dying to close up and get my ass in my bed.”
“Do you want anything to drink?” Soleria asks me nervously as I stomp my way into her living room.
Okay, maybe not stomp. The floors only handle my weight due to my concentration. No need to tempt those weak floorboards with the promise of breaking.
But I’ve kept the Gnetica down since she chose to keep them, letting her see just how happy her decision makes me.
She’s keeping the fucking flowers Nick sent her.
Grinding my teeth, I stop at her couch and fling my leather coat onto it. “Nah. I’m good. Good night.” And with that, I settle on her light blue, suede couch, closing my eyes.
“You know . . . I wanted to stay here for tonight, but if it bothers you that much we can go back to Enzyria,” Soleria says from the entryway.
What fucking bothers me is that you’re keeping those flowers. Is she entertaining the idea of giving that asshole another chance? Impossible. If there’s one thing I’ve come to know about the woman is that cheating is the one unforgivable thing in her book.
Second to that? Manwhores.
“You wanted your own bed, female. I can understand that. Go enjoy your rest,” I answer, laying my head on my bent arm and closing my eyes.
Suddenly, a blanket falls over me and my head is lifted as a pillow is shoved beneath it.
My eyes fly open.
Soleria grimaces down at me and shoots back. “I couldn’t leave you there without a blanket and pillow.”
Gods. The way she cares for her friends.
The way she cares for me.
“Thank you,” I mumble, throat tight.
She blushes and nods down at me.
Fucking hell, why does she have to be so edible? Straight-up, walking sex. The kind that instinctually lets a male know he’s in for the ride of his life.
“Are you sure you don’t want to head back to your own place?”
Enzyria is just one of my many places, although it is my main home. I make a mental note to take Soleria over to my condo on Seventh Avenue in Manhattan and nod up at her. “We’re good. Promise. Go get some rest.”
“Goodnight,” she says in a low, sweet voice, backing out of the living room.
My erection returns with an instant vengeance at that tone. At those eyes. That face.
Every gods damned thing about her.
I can’t even will the Gnetica around me on time and there’s no mistaking it when her eyes fall to my lap and catch sight of the mass now tenting the covers.
“Goodnight female,” I say, hearing how husky and rough my tone is.
She turns around and rushes up the stairs to her room.
Forcing my eyes closed, I do my best to ignore the visual of her upstairs in that bed.
I don’t expect to actually fall asleep, but in a few minutes, that’s exactly what I do.
Chapter 12
IANTHEN
W hat . . . in the . . . where am I?
It takes me less than a second to realize something is wrong.
Really, really wrong.
Epically, catastrophically, holy-shit-the-world-as-I-know-it-is-about-to-end wrong.
There’s a cream colored carpet beneath my feet. Pale blue walls all around me. A window to my left, right in front of a small desk with a map and a pendulum on it. When I look over my shoulder, there’s a closet with mirrored-doors behind me and . . . another pendulum embedded into it?
“Ianthen?”
Her. My eyes slam closed. I can’t be where I think I am. This can’t be happening to us again.
Why is it happening? Sharing a dream with another being, while not common, isn’t unheard of. It’s happened enough throughout history that it’s accepted and known about. But two dreams? All in the span of one month?
If she isn’t the one, what else could be causing this? Morpheus has been dead for millenia. His brothers, the Oneiroi, died alongside him. Why? For helping Maivera influence Zexistr’s actions. As soon as he regained full cognizance, he went after them first, as both a quest for retribution and a loud warning to his baby-momma: Try coming near my subconscious again, and you’re next.
Last I heard, the primal power of Dreams is still locked in Renentr.
So who the hell would be fucking with us like this? I can’t sense Nylicia, but there’s literally no one else it can be.
“Why are you in my room?” Soleria asks.
Her room?
Fuck. Fuck. I squeeze my eyes tighter, trying to will myself awake. She hasn’t realized we’re trapped in yet another shared dream, but I haven’t forgotten how the last one went down.
Gods, no. It’s all I think about most of the time. All I want. I need her too bad to survive another round of this BS. One more phantom taste and it’s going to ruin everything for us out there, in the real world.
They’ll be no coming back from that. I know myself too well. Can feel the turmoil building in my gut. In my mind.
“Ian, you okay? Did you need something?”
“It’s happening again, Sol,” I growl as I open my eyes.
Dear gods. She’s rising off the queen-sized at the back of the room, those long, bare legs sliding out from beneath the covers. The moonlight slicing through the room highlights every move, a spotlight designed specifically for my werewolf senses.
Holy . . . fuck . . . me . . . what the fuck is she wearing?
A striped button-down.
A men’s button-down. “Whose shirt is that?” I snap as she starts coming closer, eyes squinting as she looks around her room and catalogues all the differences.
Things are never the same in dreams, even when they’re a replica. The human mind struggles to pick up on the differences at times. Hell, us immortals do, too. But I can tell she’s starting to see it. She’s starting to realize.
We’re in another fucking dream together and she’s practically naked, wearing another male’s shirt. “Who, Soleria?”
She pauses at the foot of the bed, frightened eyes meeting mine. No, not my eyes. She’s doing it again, fucking
the breath out of me with that sultry stare, leaving a path of pure, blazing fire in her wake. “It’s mine. I bought it to sleep in.”
I don’t even have time to be relieved at that answer before she begins walking towards me, closing the five-foot distance faster than I can prepare. “Sol, what are you—”
“Ian, why are you in here?” She pauses mid-stride, a foot-in-a-half from me, eyes wild, hands fisted. “You can’t be in here right now.”
Jesus. Those bare thighs. “Why not, Sol?” I rasp, even though it’s the fucking wrong thing to do.
“Ianthen,” she whines, biting her lip. “Get out of here before I fuck you like no man’s ever been fucked before.”
Like. A. Shot.
That’s how fast I’m in front of her, hands around those firm, silky thighs. Soleria whimpers as I lift her off the floor, her arms and legs coming around me. “Please, baby. Take it.”
She mewls softly at my plea.
It doesn’t matter that I can now sense the difference between the sensations in the real world and this dream one. That the physical touches are ghostlike compared to the real deal.
Mentally, we’re both so fucking here with each other right now.
Eyes lambent, she curls all the way around me and comes straight at my mouth.
On instinct, I tilt my face away from hers.
“Ian?” Uncertainty flashes in those beautiful eyes.
“I want it to happen out there.” Although I jerk my head towards the door, I know she’ll pick up on what I really mean. “The first time we kiss, I want it to happen out there. When we’re awake.”
She rubs herself all over me, moaning. “But I want it so bad.”
Gods. Damn.
I dematerialize us to the desk by the wall. One swipe and I send both the map and pendulum flying to the floor. Leaning down, I press her to the surface, hips rocking on a loose thrust.
She jerks at the feel of my cock.
Teeth bared, I growl down at her, feeling that stretching in my eyes as the change comes over them.
Our entire bodies morph, yes, but it always begins with the eyes. The expansion of vision as they begin to grow to their Hyren size. As a result, the already mouthwatering vision this female makes becomes that much more detailed.
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