Gale Season

by Marie Harte

  “So the reason they banished you from Aelle was because you disagreed with Lidra’s takeover plan against Tanselm?” he nipped at her earlobe, making her gasp.

  “There’s more to it,” she paused as a moan worked its way past her lips. “But that can keep.”

  Words were lost as sensation overcame them both. Aerolus wasted no time and shifted Alandra’s body over his, sliding her over him until he filled her with desire. Their coupling was rough, needful. He sucked at her breasts, gripping her thighs and buttocks hard enough to leave bruises.

  She clutched at his shoulders, hugging him so tightly it was a wonder he could breathe. And all the while he rocked inside her, his massive shaft pressing deeper and deeper, rubbing against her clit with a tumultuous pressure that brought her to climax seconds before him.

  “Alandra,” he growled and thrust up, almost unseating them. She was gradually aware of the wind caressing her, holding them steady as Aerolus continued to shudder within her. “Ah, love, at this rate I won’t have the strength to move from you, and we have much to do.”

  She sighed, wishing they could avoid any unpleasantries for a while. “I know. Where should we start?”

  He hugged her to him, lowering his mouth to capture hers in a soul-stealing kiss. “First we start in the shower, and then we find Arim. There are a few things he needs to know.”

  She flinched hearing Arim’s name. Shadows, but she didn’t want to face him again anytime soon.

  “Trust me, Alandra.” Aerolus gave her an intense look that made her wish she could read minds. Instead, she ignored her secret hopes for the future and focused on the practical. Aerolus might be a Light Bringer, but he was honest, loyal and compassionate. And he’d never intentionally hurt her.

  “I trust you,” she said quietly, knowing she meant it, and that she hadn’t said those words in nearly a hundred years.

  * * * *

  Arim swore as fire burned along his side. The ache in his ribs intensified, and the blue flame he’d been trying to master felt as if it had grown into a bonfire. The smell of stale nothingness told him he floated somewhere between, in the spaces connecting worlds.

  A sudden flash threw him off balance, and before he could blink he was pinned to a cold wall, manacled and blanketed by a magical buffer. Surprisingly, the chill surrounding him felt natural and not at all Dark, as he’d expected.

  “So predictable,” a husky voice drawled, capturing his attention.

  He stared, his gaze stony though his heart stumbled, at Lexa Van Nostren, the woman he’d hoped never to see again, at least, not alive.

  “Still the same old Lexa.” He gazed at her without expression, taking in her denim jeans and casual silk T-shirt. She’d obviously just been at the club, and despite his precautions, she had taken him by surprise. Anger surged, and he had to force himself to remain calm. “Slumming again, Blue? Or are you just desperate enough not to care who you fuck?”

  Her lips tightened at his deliberate use of a nickname she’d been given in friendlier times, and he could see his insult hit home. “Well, rest assured I’m not so desperate I’ll fuck you.”

  The blow hurt, more than it should, but he merely raised one brow and waited.

  She glared, the pale blue of her gaze like an icy dagger. “Leave well enough alone before you do more damage than even you can possibly repair.”

  “Oh?” She had the nerve to dictate his actions? He studied the spark in her eyes. Despite the inanity of her claims, she was indeed fully sane. Sane and tired, by the look of her. She still appeared a veritable beauty, but Darkness now clouded her ethereal splendour.

  Where once innocence and integrity had been her course, in the end, her blood had run true. The Van Nostren line of Dark Lords continued with its most promising son, ‘Sin Garu, and now, its menacing daughter.

  “I,” she paused, her mouth pursed in what promised to be an interesting lead. The paleness of her features only emphasised the full, bloody-red pout of her mouth. The dark shadows under her eyes made her gaze that much more piercing, the light blue so pale as to be almost ashen, but striking set against the inky blackness of her hair.

  “Yes, Blue, you what? Wanted to see me again? Wanted to talk? Wanted me to forgive you? Take your pick.”

  He stood against the wall, his arms and legs splayed, unable to do more than stand there. Yet his words had scored their intended damage.

  “You forgive me?” She slapped him hard across the face, her slender palm shooting pulses of blue flame where it touched. “I hope it burns,” she seethed, glaring like a she-wolf prepared to strike. “You weren’t worth the effort then, and you sure aren’t worth it now.”

  He sighed. “I’m shocked. After all this time, that’s all you’ve got?” He knew pushing her wasn’t smart, but he couldn’t help wanting to hurt her as much as he possibly could. And given her powerful magic and his inability to strike using his, words were all he had. “Sweetheart, you used to beg for my affection like a stray dog. So weak at heart, while so strong in Dark magic. But at least you left on a grand scale, killing Muri and her kin, a fitting tribute to your real family.” He shrugged, as if reminders of the thoughtless deaths hadn’t wounded him a thousand times over.

  “I never killed Muri,” she said in a low growl, her eyes almost wraithlike in blinding white brilliance.

  “And you never knew who your real parents were, right?” He stared with apparent disbelief. “Don’t tell me your intelligence has gone the way of your looks? Give me some credit for knowing you back then.”

  She trembled, her fists clenched as she leaned so close their breaths mingled. “Your time is coming, and sooner than you think.” She kissed him softly, the cold of her breath scalding his throat and lungs. “I can only hope Cadmus isn’t as pathetic as you were when I left. That boy’s got potential.” She licked at his bottom lip. “Now I have better things to do than play with you. Thanks for the memories.”

  Rage, the likes of which he’d only once before felt filled him, burning through the buffer and the manacles at his wrists. He balled his fists to gather a fuelling storm of violence when a sudden flash of light filled the room, then…nothing. Lexa had vanished, and with her the restraints holding him back. It was as if she’d never been there at all.

  Her threat about Cadmus worried him, so much so that he teleported back to his room in Tanselm in the western kingdom. Disregarding his various wounds and the blue flame licking its way towards his core, he teleported Darius and Marcus to his quarters at once.

  They blinked at him in surprise, no doubt taken aback by his rough handling and ragged appearance.

  “Cadmus is missing, the Van Nostrens are aligned, and the Djinn are pushing closer than ever. I need you to return with me. Now.”

  Chapter Nine

  Aerolus and Alandra stood in the kitchen over the centre island, sipping coffee and making plans as if the day was like any other in Seattle.

  For a moment Alandra wished it were. How novel to imagine that she and Aerolus were xiantopes, a couple preparing for a day’s work, chatting about mundane matters. Groceries, errands, who would cook dinner and what would they do that night.

  Aerolus stared at her strangely.

  “What?” she asked defensively, hoping she hadn’t been obvious in her daydreaming.

  “Is it me, or is your glow completely gone, and you’re three inches taller?”

  She smiled. She’d toned down her skin’s brilliance in hopes of fitting in with the inhabitants of this world. But the height stemmed from Aerolus’ gift that morning. Now standing, she could stare at his throat instead of the middle of his chest. “I’m taller!” Whirling around on a pair of black leather Nine West boots, she posed for him. “Do you like them? They’re really me, aren’t they?”

  “Where did they come from?” He looked puzzled. “I set out a pair of jeans, sneakers and a sweater for you on the bed.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Thanks for conjuring me some of the ugliest clothes a wom
an could possibly wear. I just did a little fiddling.”

  He scowled, surprising her. More and more he lost his control around her, showing her what he felt instead of masking his expressions. Excitement surged within her at her mage’s temper. Storm Lords were an intimidating lot, and Aerolus’ grey eyes snapped like lightning when he was irritated, as he was now.

  “Change back.”

  “What?”

  “I said, change back. I like the way you look, the real you. Now change back.”

  She grumbled to contain the smile that threatened to spill. Imagine that. Aerolus Storm liked the way she looked, short stature and all. With a shimmer she reverted to herself.

  “Well, here I am, in all my ‘off the rack’ glory.”

  He sighed but lost the scowl. After planting a quick kiss on top of her head, he stepped back and drained the rest of his coffee. “Purie, I forgot something. Wait right here and I’ll be back.” With a silent stealth she admired, he flashed out of sight before her eyes.

  The Mir stone made a popping noise when the Aellei teleported. At the thought, she frowned, reminding herself to demand he return the charm. Without it, she couldn’t skip worlds at all.

  “Must be nice to have teleportation at the tips of your fingers,” she murmured. “Control freak.”

  “I heard that,” he whispered in her ear and nuzzled her cheek, half scaring her to death. “And no, you can’t have it back until I’m sure.”

  “Sure?” she breathed, clutching her chest.

  “Sure that you won’t leave until we can talk, really talk,” he said quietly.

  An undercurrent of unease rumbled through her, and a feeling not unlike that she’d experienced when the wraith had invaded struck her.

  “Thank the Shadow,” she murmured. She wanted to delay the conversation, hoping they could avoid it altogether until she returned home. She didn’t want to hear all the reasons why they’d never work as a couple. Talking about it would only depress her.

  A shudder grabbed her, refocusing her concern. “Something’s coming.”

  Without hesitation he thrust her behind him and erected a shield of frothing wind in seconds.

  “I can’t see,” she complained.

  “Alandra,” he growled. “Stop being a pain in the ass and stay the hell back.”

  “Nice language. I bet you wouldn’t say that to your affai, now would you?”

  Silence met her taunt, and she wanted to kick herself for blurting what she’d just managed to avoid. Wasn’t it enough she’d been dwelling on his affai all night? So what that they didn’t have a future? They had right now, and reminders that Aerolus had an unknown bride waiting for him somewhere weren’t conducive to hot, heavy sex.

  He held up a hand. “Not another word.”

  Thankfully— how desperate am I to view a threatening intrusion as a thankful delay?—a dark void appeared on the far wall of the living room. Keeping the kitchen island and the wall of wind between them, Aerolus pressed Alandra back until only the dishwasher stood between her and the wall.

  “Aerolus, I can’t breathe,” she huffed, only slightly appeased when he gave her half an inch.

  Peering to his side, she watched as Arim stepped through the black hole in the wall, followed closely by two more Storm brothers. They looked hearty and healthy, and intimidating as all get-out. But Arim, she swallowed nervously, Arim looked like he’d fought the hounds of the Next and barely survived the victor.

  Tanselm’s legendary sorcerer had blue marks of the Dark upon his cheeks, burn holes in his tattered clothing, and blood streaking his forehead. His hair was mussed, clumps of black strands stuck to the dried blood on his face. But his eyes, Shadow’s bend, his eyes were swirling with colour the way they’d been when he attacked her.

  Unconsciously, she clung like a burr to Aerolus’ back. She knew Arim wouldn’t harm his nephew, but her last interaction with the Light Bringer had been decidedly deadly. A new worry hit her hard. What if he’d somehow learned what she hadn’t yet had a chance to tell Aerolus?

  “I take it your brother hasn’t returned?” Arim said quietly, his voice reverberating throughout the room.

  She felt Aerolus tense, but his shield remained strong. “No.” She peeked around him, annoyed at not being able to see anything.

  Arim stared, Darius and Marcus behind him exchanging long, thoughtful looks. Then Arim took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “You can release your shield, Aerolus. I’m not going to hurt her.”

  “Not until you calm down.” Aerolus spoke soothingly, his wind stirring warmth through the room. Pressed against him and sharing his aura, she could feel his magic touching the cold on Arim’s face and healing the ravages of Dark violence.

  “Good, you heal him. He wouldn’t let us help him,” Darius growled, his red eyes burning like flame. “So how’s it going, Aerolus? I see you have a woman with you.”

  Marcus grinned. “It’s a miracle, truly.”

  Darius nodded. “Gotta watch the quiet ones.”

  “Enough, you two,” Arim snapped. “I’m calm, damn it. Now lower the shield.” He still sounded aggravated, but his eyes slowly returned to a shiny black.

  Aerolus waved his hand, and the air in the room settled. “What happened, Uncle?”

  “Uncle?” Alandra stepped around Aerolus and stared in shock from him and his brothers to Arim, seeing for the first time what had always been there. “It’s not just an affectation. He really is your uncle. Wow. It’s obvious, now that I see you all together, standing so close. I can’t believe I was observing you for so long and never picked up that juicy tidbit.”

  “’Juicy tidbit?’” Aerolus raised a brow, acting very much like Marcus just then.

  She shrugged. “While you were sleeping, I peeked at the Soap Channel early this morning. I was surprised it didn’t wake you.”

  Darius elbowed Marcus, who promptly told him to grow up.

  Arim rubbed his neck tiredly and sighed. “I appear to be the only one concerned about Cadmus. Will you three shut up and listen?”

  “Don’t you mean four?” Alandra added, trying to be helpful.

  The brothers chuckled, and Aerolus placed an arm around her shoulders, hugging her tight. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Arim stared with speculation, and she wondered if he planned to share with Aerolus one of those ‘don’t buy the bee if you can get the honey for free’ references Sava tended to make when eager Aellein males bugged him about marrying her.

  As if I would try to trap a Storm Lord in marriage.

  As soon as the thought surfaced, the intrigue and trickery required to make such a thing happen grabbed hold of her mind and refused to let go.

  “I keep telling him that if Cadmus were hurt we’d know.” Darius glared at his uncle.

  “But can you sense his thoughts?” Arim asked.

  “No, and I never could.” Darius’ eyes blazed, and the coffee cups she and Aerolus had left on the counter suddenly steamed. “Aerolus, you tell him.”

  “I tried. The Djinn presence in Cadmus’ aura is protective, not to mention female. It’s odd, but not in the least harmful. She’s actually increased his strength, and if Cadmus weren’t so busy feeling sorry for himself, he might sense it.”

  Alandra nodded absently, scheming at a dizzying rate to trap a royal Storm Lord in matrimony. It would be the coup of a lifetime. Not to mention unspeakably romantic to marry for love, her heart clamoured.

  “Alandra?” Aerolus asked softly.

  She felt nervous enough, only to note three other pairs of eyes on her as well. Alandra forced a smile and tried to put them all at ease. “Ellie would no more hurt him than she would herself.”

  The sudden stillness in the room told her she’d said something wrong.

  “I never said her name.” Arim’s eyes were intent as he focused his will on her mental walls.

  “You didn’t have to,” she snorted, thinking rapidly to cover her blunder. “I’ve watched your Tetrarch ever since
they stepped foot in this plane, remember?”

  “What’s she talking about?” Darius frowned.

  “What do you mean?” Marcus’ smile faded, and his glare grew cold.

  “Alandra.” Aerolus pulled her to face him, staring her squarely in the eye with that charged silver gaze that made her heart flutter. “Tell us the truth, please.”

  She swallowed loudly, wondering if she should have mentioned this to him earlier. But he hadn’t seemed too anxious about his brother’s disappearance, and frankly she’d been too concerned with other things to talk about her newest friend, Ellie.

  “Okay,” she said slowly, gauging the distance to the nearest exit. The window wasn’t open, but the front door would do. If she had her damned Mir charm she could have already been gone.

  Aerolus saw her finger her throat, and his expression darkened. He grabbed her firmly by the arm and waited.

  “Relax, he’s fine if he’s with her.” She tried to edge away from his hold, but at a glance at his relatives, figured she was safer where she stood. Aerolus, thankfully, released her when he realised she had no intention to escape.

  “Please explain.”

  “Yeah, explain why you know about a Djinn in this world, and why you’re starting to glow,” Darius growled.

  “Not one step closer,” Aerolus said quietly to his brother. A sudden impenetrable shield surrounded her.

  “What the hell?” Marcus narrowed his eyes.

  “Your telekinesis won’t work, Marcus, nor will your attempts at stealing into her thoughts, Arim. If you give her a minute, Alandra will tell us what we wish to know.”

  She simply stared at him, her heart pounding as she watched him protect her from his family, men he loved, men he would die for. She stared at the flow of magic between them, consumed by tenderness for him, and had to blink at the strange moisture welling in her eyes.

  “Alandra?”

  “Sorry, something in my eye.” She looked down to compose herself and cleared her throat, knowing now was as good a time as any to unburden herself. Maybe if she played it right, she’d get the help she needed to save not only the Storm Lords and Tanselm, but Aelle as well.