Winter Warriors

by Denise A. Agnew

  She was saved from an answer by the telephone. The sudden ringing made her jump.

  Rhys gave his name and listened, then glanced at Jenna and held out the handset.

  “It’s for you.”

  “No one knows I’m in this room.”

  “I had them forward any calls to your room to here.”

  She took the phone reluctantly.

  “Jenna, thank god! I’ve been looking high and low for you the last ten hours.”

  “Hi Dean.” She scrambled to orientate her mind back into a professional frame. Her controller was the only person on earth that had known she was going to Banff, and the only reason she had given him that information was because operational protocol demanded it. “I’ve been…busy.”

  “So I gathered.” His voice sounded dry. “He sounds ruggedly handsome. Are you all right?”

  “Couldn’t be better.” And she realized that physically, at least, she spoke plain truth. “Is something up? Why the call, Dean? You assured me that only in the case of direst emergency would you use this number.”

  “True, true. And while there’s not an emergency here, I rather thought there might be there.”

  “Here? Dean, what on earth…?”

  “Jenna, honey, listen to me. I’m not your boss right now, okay? I’m just a concerned friend. I know how you feel about my…well, my psychic abilities. And you and I both know the department would freak if I ever used them for an operation—”

  Jenna glanced at Rhys, recalling that the department had hired him at least twice. She was damned sure it wasn’t for Rhys’ analytical skills they’d hired him. “Don’t be so sure about that, Dean. I’ve had one or two eye openers about the department lately.”

  “Well, anyway, I know you’ve never believed psychic stuff, that you think it’s all a magnificent jest, and you’ve always made that very clear. So I want you to remember that while I say what I’ve got to say. I’m risking your ridicule and more trouble than I can predict with the department if this ever came out.”

  “If what came out?”

  “Jenna, last night I was watching television, minding my own business. And got knocked into next week with a mental shout. I heard it plain as day, as clear as words, almost. Jenna’s in trouble. That’s what it said. Jenna’s in trouble. Christ, I could almost feel you, feel your fright.” He sighed deeply. “I dumped a perfectly good bowl of Jerri’s chili all over the floor, it startled me so much.”

  “Dean, I’m fine.”

  “You might be right now, but honey, these things are convoluted sometimes. This could be about the future, something that’s going to happen. And you know…”

  She felt his hesitation, knew that he risked more than simple ridicule and a formal rap on the knuckles. He risked exposing the extent of whatever talent he had. And she marveled at her own train of thought. From pure cynic to a believer within twelve hours.

  I have been changed already.

  Yes, you have. Rhys’ mental tone caressed her, a warm mental hug.

  “You know that the solstice is coming up, don’t you?”

  “Sunday,” Jenna supplied. “Tomorrow night.”

  “Yeah, and you’re on a hot spot right there in Banff.”

  “A what?”

  “Hot spot. There’s all these lines of power that run over the globe, and along each line, well, anywhere along a line, you can tap into an extra dollop of power if you go about it right. The ancients knew about it. Stonehenge is sitting right over one. Same with all the other standing stones in England. And all those freaky signs in South America. There’s another line runs up through the middle of the Rockies, and Banff is right on it.”

  Her heart thudded along unhappily. Had she unwittingly put herself in a place of power, was this fate of hers already pushing her around?

  “I didn’t know that, Dean. I’ll bear it in mind. If it’ll make you any happier, I’ll be super wary tomorrow, just in case. Okay?”

  “Well, yes, now that you’re stuck there. That’s a worry right there.”

  “What do you mean?” She put it sharply.

  “Why else do you think it took me ten bloody hours to get through to you? The phone lines were down because of the avalanches.”

  “Avalanches?”

  Dean chuckled. “Honey, I think you’ve been tucked in that hotel room for too long. Go grab a paper or talk to a local. There was a series of avalanches this morning. They cut off all the roads into Banff, along with phone lines and a shitload of other services.”

  She gripped the phone hard. “I see.”

  “So you be very, very careful, okay? I know you can look after yourself. And this warning I got could be about something as simple as getting stuck in a snowdrift.”

  “But it didn’t feel like that, did it?”

  She sensed his surprise. “No, it didn’t feel like that at all.” He cleared his throat. “Well, it sounds like you’ll take me seriously enough to be cautious. Do you…would you like me to come up there and bring you home? You can stay with Jerri and I and the kids for Christmas—I know you don’t want to be at your home for it.”

  “You couldn’t get through anyway, Dean.”

  “Shit, I could get a helicopter in there.”

  Shock rippled through her. “You’d blow departmental resources on this?”

  “Just give the word.”

  That frightened her more than any other thing he might have said. Dean was a genuine Scrooge when it came to parceling out money for even actual departmental needs. That he’d break his own stringent rules to come haul her out of Banff before the solstice spoke volumes about his worry.

  “Nah, I don’t think you need to do that.” She made it sound as casual as she could manage. “Although I really appreciate the gesture.”

  “He’s that good, huh?”

  She smiled. “Something like that.”

  “Well, okay. But you know where to find me.”

  “Thanks, Dean.”

  Rhys stood at the window with his back to her, staring out, when she turned around to look at him.

  “You chose to stay. Why?”

  She went up behind him and put her arms around him, and rested her cheek against his back. “I don’t believe in fate, Rhys, and I’m still getting used to these strange new things that I can do…that you can do. I don’t know that I like them much, except that they have some interesting applications.” She recalled the electric moment in the restaurant when they had revealed to each other the depth of their need to make love now, all while the waiter fussed over Jenna’s fingers and a ruined tablecloth, completely oblivious to the heat passing between them. “But I do know that with them, without them, fate or no, I’m…drawn to you. I need to see where that goes.”

  He let go of a great gust of air, his shoulders lifting and relaxing under her cheek. “Thank you.”

  “How much did you hear?”

  “I picked up a lot from you.”

  “I thought you couldn’t do that unless I willed it?”

  “We’re bonding, Jenny. Whether you like it or not, the longer we’re together, the closer we draw to each other. And when that happens, all bets are off. There’s no predicting what a unified field will do.”

  Her hands absorbed the warmth of his flesh, where they rested over his bare abdomen. And she caught a glimpse of a thought/feeling from him, the softness of her hands, the warmth of her arms, and the proximity of her hands to the top of his jeans. He let his thoughts spiral back into the physical longing for her, which he couldn’t seem to quench no matter how many times he drank from her flesh. The strength of it frightened him a little, even while it exhilarated him.

  His small enjoyment was contagious, but more than that, the hint of weakness, the touch of fear at the strength of his need for her, caught at Jenna’s heart.

  She slid her hands down to his jeans, found the button, and opened it, and he gave a gusty sigh. With a smile, she zipped them undone, and slid her hand inside, touching smooth fir
m skin lightly covered with hair, felt muscles quiver beneath her fingers. She reached further, and found the hard length of his cock, wrapped her fingers around the velvety flesh, and ran them lightly upwards to the glans.

  He jerked in her hand in response.

  Jenna circled around to face him, and pushed his jeans aside. His cock reared up, beating against his lower abs, and she studied it with a gourmand’s eye. “You’re perfect.”

  He gave a gruff laugh. “Hardly.”

  “No, you’re just right for me. You—” she gripped his cock, running her other finger around the head, and making him groan. “You’re just the right size and a pleasing shape and texture.” She gave him the encompassing thought that explained it all so much more efficiently.

  “I’ve never heard it put like that before.” He put a hand out blindly, feeling for the back of the chair, which he gripped for support.

  Jenna got to her knees in front of him, and took his cock in both hands. He sucked in a quick breath, signaling his anticipation, which gave her a small thrill. Quickly, before he could recover, she plunged him into her mouth, stretching her lips over him. Then she began to tease him mercilessly, sucking, teasing the glans with her tongue, and letting her teeth bump over the head, all the while sliding her mouth up and down the shaft. She strained to take him in as deeply as she could, while she cupped and squeezed his balls gently, massaging them.

  She’d done this before for Kevin, but never had it felt as right as it did now.

  Subtly, she picked up the pace, as his breathing grew ragged and strained. His hand touched her head, his fingers burying themselves in her hair.

  His growing excitement was contagious. A dawning tingle of pleasure started deep in her belly. There was the added thrill of pleasuring another without thought of return.

  But when Rhys’ hips began to jerk, and his breath had turned to a panting gasp, he pulled himself out of her mouth, his hand on her head keeping her from him. “No, not this way. In you. I want to come inside you.” His eyes had become narrowed slits of glittering concentration, the dark irises just barely showing.

  He pulled her to her feet, tugging the belt of her robe loose as she rose. The robe, far too big for her in the first place, slid from her shoulders as soon as the belt fell away, leaving her naked.

  Rhys grasped her waist in both hands and, astonishingly, lifted her off her feet, the muscles in his shoulders and chest flexing hard. He swiveled and carried her a pace or two and deposited her bottom on the broad desk against the wall by the other window.

  It reminded her sharply of the dress store, last night, and the image Rhys had given her, of carrying her up against the store window.

  You liked that. He kissed her, hard and thoroughly, then pushed her shoulder back, until she lay on the leather desktop.

  She was already mentally replaying that scenario, so she gave it to him.

  He smiled as his hands moved over her. He stroked her whole body in long caresses, sparing no single inch of her, until she writhed, her thighs restless against the edges of the desk.

  Finally he picked up her ankles and rested them against his shoulders, and inserted the tip of his cock into her hot, wet tunnel. Just the tip. And paused.

  Jenna looked up at him. “Tease!”

  “Yes!” His hands brushed her body again, and fluttered around her pussy. She caught her breath, wishing he would plunge deep inside her with all his strength.

  But instead his fingers slipped between her thighs and brushed up from her vagina, along the slick channel of flesh to her clit, and her hips jerked hard. In that moment he slammed into her, pushing against the muscles that contracted hard in reaction to his stroking her clitoris, and he groaned, his eyes closing, as he buried himself deep.

  So did Jenna, her insides turning to liquid pleasure around him.

  Feel this, too. It became a mental touch, and Jenna gasped again as she felt his lips on her pussy. Mentally, his tongue stroked and caressed her clitoris, even as his cock pulsed, buried to the hilt inside her. And on top of that came the sensation of lips and hands on her breasts, stroking and tweaking the nipples, caressing the swell of flesh around them.

  Her breath came in sharp gasps as she sunk into the sensual pool. Beneath it all, she felt Rhys’ cock thrust into her again, and again, harder each time.

  His thumb rested against her clitoris and stroked with each mental kiss of his mouth, slipping down to her vagina with each withdrawal of his cock.

  Faster! she urged him.

  Yes.

  Harder.

  Yes!

  And they strove for a mutual orgasm, feeling it build, from his toes to her ears. The sharing of sensations spiraled the pleasure upwards, harder and faster, until Jenna threw her head back and screamed, the pleasure ripping through her with an intensity that bordered on pain. Rhys cried her name as his seed spilled into her in hard, tight spasms, sweat beading on his temples.

  Chapter Six

  They showered together in order to stay together, sharing quiet words. Jenna lathered him, and this time, she lingered over each of the many scars he wore, and for each he gave her the sense/image of the occasion of its delivery—painful battle scars, most of them, against an enemy that wore so many faces they blended into an amorphous Enemy that he had battled his entire life, and still had not beaten. Knife, gun, sword, all manner of weapons and objects had taken their toll on him.

  She wept bitter tears for each of them, and thought the shower spray hid them, until he took her in his arms and kissed her eyes. Don’t cry for me. And the thought came with the sense that he would willingly do it all again, knowing she waited for him somewhere ahead.

  “Does your strange world not know mercy? Is there no rest, no reprieve?”

  “There are moments. For anyone, even the merely human, there are moments.” He smiled down at her. “Such as this one. And the moments add up.”

  She rested her head against his chest for a moment, and felt his heart beat. Yes, it was a peaceful moment. But I, too, can feel the tension building now. I need answers.

  You shall have them. And she felt him sigh.

  Who is the Enemy? I thought it was a part of humans, the dark half that you worked to root out. She thought of Clement Hine. People like him seem purely evil, and bent on defeating you.

  Hine is human and watcher, both. But he, like all humans, has a dark side, a capacity for evil. And during his life he went astray. Sadness touched him, and Jenna realized that Rhys had known Hine for a long time, long before he’d ‘gone astray’.

  “The dark side of the force?” Jenna quipped.

  Actually, it’s very close to the real truth. His thoughts leapt onwards, encompassing all of humanity with its capacity for evil. She saw the social conscience and personal ethics that keep most from wickedness and the threat of human laws that subdue others. But for some, the bad ways are easier, quicker and less troublesome and the laws don’t hold them. These people twist human nature to suit themselves, regardless of the long-term consequences. If that sort of person has a will that can bend others to his nature, he can lead those weaker others into the same dark paths. Rhys showed her how that might happen, how influential people with evil in their hearts corrupted other souls, and how he and others like him forever watched. Those are the sorts of patterns and pockets we watch out for, and deal with as we can.

  This was the work she was destined for? She straightened her back, drawing away from him a little, and the water spilled down between her breasts. He was nudging her out of her comfort zone again, with the reminder of a “fate” she still hadn’t wholly accepted. She sought, instead, for information. Hine has been led astray?

  He is human first, and he uses his greater skills to pursue human ambitions. Greed, mostly, for money and power.

  Jenna saw another, darker figure behind Hine. It was a symbolic image. There was a greater evil leading Hine. Twined to him. Bonded.

  Does their bond make them stronger?

 
Yes.

  Who is the other, the stronger one?

  “A man called Jude Marcher.” Rhys’ lips thinned, and he turned off the shower with a compulsive jerk on the faucet and stepped out of the stall.

  “You’ve met him?”

  “I have battled him many times. Him, or his servants. He has many like Hine, Jenny. And always more to choose from, for the human capacity for black deeds seems endless.” He thrust his arms into the toweling robe and went into the bedroom.

  Jenna dried herself off quickly, and followed him out. “But what does Marcher want? It sounds like he has power, and probably money because of it. What else could he want?”

  “To see the world plunged into chaos. To see us fail.”

  “But why?” It seemed so gratuitous.

  “With the watchers defeated, Marcher would have his way. He could be the Lord of Misrule.” He dressed swiftly as he spoke. “Would you…” He hesitated. Looked at her. “I think you should move into this room, Jenna. Collect your things and bring them here.”

  “Because it’s safer?”

  “Partly. And partly because…I would like you to.”

  “All right.” The answer emerged without consideration. It was just there, automatic and immediate.

  Rhys blinked, then turned away, heading for the sitting room. “Good.” He picked up the room key, keeping his head averted. “I’m going down to the foyer. I want to nose around a bit, see if Hine or his cronies are up to anything, and find out more about the snow.” He put the room key on the table next to the door. “You take that. I’ll get another one while I’m downstairs.”

  “Rhys?” she called as he opened the door.

  He paused, and finally looked back at her. He was smiling, and his thought/feelings touched her: a bubbling euphoria delivered as a mental kiss—she felt his lips on hers as if he had actually kissed her.

  He stepped out of the room, but his joy lingered.

  * * * * *

  Jenna packed her belongings quickly, and hauled them upstairs to the big suite without incident. The first thing she did was plug her laptop into the high-speed internet outlet and go surfing.