High Voltage

by Karen Marie Moning

  I think both my loves are better men than I. I can’t share. I can’t be second best. I don’t know how to play that role.

  “You’ll never have to,” Ryodan assures me, as he closes his arms around me from behind and grinds, hard and hungry against my ass.

  “You should know I’m possessive.”

  His arms tighten around me. “As am I. You and me. No one else. If you’re not okay with that, get the fuck out of my bed,” he says, as he begins pushing slowly inside me.

  I gasp and thrust my hips back, needing to feel him cramming me full, like earlier when he’d been part beast, so deep it nearly hurt in the best possible way. I’m not a woman to compare. We all bring unique assets to the table. But Ryodan’s assets fit me stupendously well and the fact that they were…adjustable…well, that was a plus a woman had no reason to expect and every reason to thank her lucky stars for.

  He laughs softly against my ear as he slides infinitesimally deeper, raking my nerves with a savage need he’s creating…and refusing to fill, driving me mad. “I suspect the stars will always be lucky for you, Dani.”

  Growling, I push back, hard but his hands are locked on my hips and he won’t let me gain a bloody quarter of an inch.

  “Let me play, Stardust. Learn what turns you on. I want to drive you wild. I want to find your breaking points. All of them.”

  That makes two of us. Although I never want to see him lose control in the real world, I hunger to strip it from him in bed.

  One inch, then gone, rubbing between my legs, where I’m swollen and achingly wet. Then two inches inside me. Then gone, then back and slow, so slow I nearly scream with frustration as he eases into me as if we had all the time in the world.

  “We do.”

  Laughter explodes from me, pure joy. Eternity. I get to love this man forever.

  “Fuck, Dani, stop laughing!”

  “Afraid you’ll lose control?” I tease and laugh again, a husky, wicked sound as I kicked it up a notch, and began to vibrate from head to toe.

  “Son of a bitch!”

  * * *

  π

  Later, I sprawl on top of him, staring into glittering, lazily sated silver eyes.

  It’s a good thing the room was already wrecked, because we’d have wrecked it anyway. I have no idea how much time has passed down here where no light of day penetrates but am willing to bet we’ve spent twenty-four straight hours exploring each other’s bodies, testing limits, discovering what drives each other wild.

  And this man is definitely wild. Hot and sexy and just the flavor of kink I like.

  “I’ve only got one week,” I remind him softly.

  He stiffens and growls as I fill him in on all that happened, explaining the parameters of my new existence; his silver eyes blaze with joy.

  “Half the time we’ll be human. The other half, we’ll be beasts together,” he says, laughing softly. “What a fine fucking life.”

  Indeed. Still, something’s bothering me. I need to know why he thought I wasn’t coming back, what Y’rill did with my “text.” “Ryodan, didn’t you get my message? I sent you—”

  “A bloody chunk of star. Christ, that damned piece of rock has been the bane of my fucking existence.”

  So, he did get it. “It was meant to set your mind at ease.”

  “Your aim sucked, Stardust,” he growls. He rolls me off him, surges to his feet, stalks to the hearth where he collects something from a box on the floor and brings it back, handing it to me.

  I peer at it in the low light and gasp.

  It says:

  I’M OKAY I’M

  “But that’s only half of it!”

  “I bloody well know that. What the fuck is the end of that sentence? You have no idea how many words I plugged in. I’m okay, I’m happy. I’m okay, I’m free. I’m okay, I’m never coming back. What the fuck, Dani?”

  I turn the chunk of star over and study the edge. “It broke. It must have hit something on the way to you. Where were you when you got it?”

  “On a beach.”

  I frown. “A beach? You went to the beach?” Lor said he’d not come out of Chester’s since I left.

  “I used to walk the ocean at night. It plunged from the sky and landed next to me.”

  “When?”

  He laughs but there’s a deep undercurrent of bitterness, a hint of torment in it. “Woman, you have driven me crazy far longer than you know. I got your bloody damned star three thousand, one hundred forty-one years, five months, nine days, and two hours before you turned into a Hunter at the abbey.”

  I gasp. “Three thousand years ago?” What was Y’rill thinking? Was her aim that bad? Was manipulating time trickier than she’d cared to admit?

  “You’re the reason I began to study linchpin theory, over three millennia ago. You’re the reason I began trying to project the future. You, Dani O’Malley, have been the greatest and most irritating mystery of my existence. I smelled you on the star that night on the beach. The scent of a woman I hungered to know, unlike any woman I’d ever met. I waited to meet her. And waited. And bloody fucking waited. Found her one night in Dublin, an uncontrollable, swaggering child with a bloody death wish, balls of steel, a superhero complex, and a teenage boyfriend.”

  “Oh God, you knew I was the one who’d thrown the star when you saw me that night?”

  “I’d given up on the whole matter long ago, decided the star was the equivalent of a text message sent to the wrong phone. Then I moved in behind you that night and smelled your scent. I knew you were her, the one who would one day throw a star at me, across time.

  “My world went to hell from that moment on. I had no idea what you were or what to do with you. I only knew one day you’d toss a bloody celestial body my way. Admit it, you never wrote any more than that. I tortured you so much, you decided to torture me back for a few thousand years.”

  I burst out laughing. If I’d thought of it, I might have.

  “That was all I had to go on. Then when you began to turn black—”

  “That’s why you were so certain I was becoming a Hunter,” I exclaim, “because they live among the stars!”

  He inclines his head.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  He’s silent a long moment then exhales gustily. “It was mindfuck to an extreme. I was concerned I might change things.”

  “Illogical. If it—”

  “—already happened, yes, it would no matter what. I thought of that, too. Barrons and I discussed it endlessly.”

  “Barrons knew?”

  “My brother is the only one I told. I’ve learned to take nothing for granted in this world.” He’s silent again then says, “I’d begun to suspect that because of my feelings for you, I’d try to sabotage whatever might happen. I questioned my motives.”

  I still as the enormity of what he is telling me sinks in. From the day he met me he’d known I would one day throw a star at him. No wonder he hadn’t thought I was human! Then once I started turning Hunter, he’d known the what of it but not how things would end. He’d not known, even as I branded him, even as he encouraged me to embrace my destiny, if he would ever see me again. Still, he’d helped me through it.

  “No cages, Dani. Ever. Not for you. It was possible being a Hunter would be everything you wanted. It was possible the final word was “happy.” If it had happened then it was supposed to happen, and the only thing I could do was be there while it happened. I thought I’d lost you forever. The moment you turned, I could no longer feel you. I thought your star was your goodbye.”

  “Never,” I say swiftly. “It was my promise to you that I was returning, to set your mind at ease. Because I didn’t call you for those two years and I should have. I wasn’t going to make the same mistake again. I wasted those two years because I was stubborn and prou
d and kept boxing my emotions instead of admitting them. That I loved you. I’ve always loved you.”

  “So, what the fuck did it say? Imagine working a cryptoquip for three thousand bloody years and never solving it.”

  “I’m okay, I’m coming home.”

  “Is this, Dani?” he says quietly. “Home? Will you live here with me?”

  “Always. Well, half the time. The other half of the time—”

  “Bloody hell, I’m going with you when you go.”

  “As high as I can take you without killing you,” I promise. We would sail the night sky together, watch over our city, our friends and family.

  “I might surprise you,” he says, smiling faintly. “I don’t need to breathe, Dani. Not all the time. Besides, I always come back.”

  I cup that beautiful face and kiss him, long and deep. “I always will, too. That’s our number one rule, Ryodan. No matter what, we will always come back to each other.”

  “A rule I’ll never break.” He flashes me a wolfish grin. “All the others are up for grabs. You’ll have to keep me in line. I’m not an easy man to handle.”

  I know that already. It’s one of the things I like most about him. I’m still having a hard time wrapping my brain around the fact that he’d been waiting over three thousand years for me. Something about the length of time he’d been waiting teases at my brain. “Wait a minute, how long was it again from the time you got my star and I turned into a Hunter?”

  “Three thousand one hundred forty-one years, five months, nine days, and two hours,” he says flatly. “Wondered when you’d notice that.”

  I stare at him. “Ryodan, that’s pi.”

  “The first seven digits of it. It was the hope I held onto. That we would somehow get all the rest of those digits, too.”

  I’m stupefied. Dancer was right. There’s pattern and purpose to everything.

  This spectacular universe knew exactly what it was doing.

  “We will,” I say, smiling up at him. I can feel it in my Hunter bones.

  An eternity with this man was all I’d ever wanted. Whatever comes, whatever challenges we face, we’ll ride them out together. It will be intense, it will be dangerous, it will be unpredictable, but it will never be dull. Not with him.

  As he surges above me, stretching his big beautiful body over mine, I let go of everything, sprawl back and tell him in great detail exactly what I want him to do. He complies with one thousand percent devotion to the task at hand as I lay back and take what I want, understanding finally that I deserve to. That I don’t have to be super-anything to be loved.

  Cages were funny things.

  Although I’d escaped with my body long ago, only recently had my heart finally broken free.

  Healed by the love of a man who’d been willing to sacrifice everything, even give me up if he had to, just to see me rise.

  Y’RILL CHUCKLED AS HER daughter disappeared into Chester’s, racing to the arms and bed of the man she’d chosen for her, when she’d tied the first of many red threads in Dani’s life.

  Y’rill had broken Ryodan’s star in half, sent him only “I’m okay I’m” to determine if he was worthy of her daughter. She’d sent it to him far in the past to ascertain if he would be there to watch over her, and to assess what he was made of.

  He’d passed her tests with flying colors, helping her daughter evolve, even as he’d believed he was losing her, giving his love with no guarantee of a return.

  Tucking her wings close to her body, Y’rill soared up into the sky above Dublin, watching over the city Dani loved, studying what only the most ancient among Hunters could see—the countless red threads connecting lives that were destined to make history together. There was pattern and purpose to all things.

  One day, if she chose, Dani, too, would fly among the stars, studying worlds and tying those fateful threads. Only those with the purest, deepest, most resilient hearts could handle the delicate task. Her daughter certainly fit the bill and would excel at weaving happy endings for others.

  But now it was time for her to enjoy her own.

  Let my love open the door to your heart

  SOMEWHERE IN TIME…

  ON A PLANET WITH low gravity and four moons, a black-skinned beast bounded across sandy dunes. He was her best friend and lover.

  At the beast’s side ran a Hel-Cat, both her child and mother.

  Above them soared a majestic raven-dark Hunter, forged of passion, fire, and a teaspoon of stardust.

  Dani O’Malley had a family. She belonged.

  THE FOLLOWING SCENES WERE written during Feversong, but for one reason or another I either cut and rewrote them a different way or simply chose not to include them. As my team and I were sorting through my notes, they enjoyed the alternate glimpses so much, I decided to include them here.

  DELETED CHRISTIAN MACKELTAR SCENE FROM FEVERSONG:

  Barrons said, “Do you remember All Hallow’s Eve when we summoned the old god at the circle stones of Ban Drochaid?”

  “How could I forget,” Christian replied with a tight smile. “You screwed me and I got hurled into the Silvers where I turned into this.”

  “I was hurled into the Silvers that night, too. Because of you. I merely escaped more quickly.”

  “And just how did you do that?” Christian said dryly.

  “Do you recall what I told you before we began the ritual?”

  “Yes. Not a bloody thing.”

  “I told you one thing you needed to remember and you ignored it. I said: ‘When it rises, greet it with warmth and respect.’ ”

  “The foul thing came exploding out of the earth, gunning for me. It was dark and ancient and smelled of bones and graveyards. And I was supposed to smile and say hello?”

  “You are dark and will one day be ancient and you don’t merely smell of death, you’re the most lethal horseman of the apocalypse. Your legend will forever precede you. Yes, I bloody expected you to be courteous, yet you ran as if it was the vilest thing you’d ever encountered. It responded to you in kind. Our plan that night succeeded. You didn’t welcome it. It left.”

  “Well, why the hell was the onus on me that night?”

  “You attract power.”

  Christian went still. He’d often felt that way as a lad, strolling the bens and vales of his Highlands, tethered by a deep bond to all of it, earth to sky, dirt to stars, feeling as if the heavens themselves sometimes shot out a milky tendril to caress him, noticed him, observed him with curiosity. His druid connection to all living things was intense. He’d not even been able to fish as a lad because he couldn’t bear the pain of the pierced worm, life stolen by the hook. The worm had enjoyed its dark, sweet, rich life in the soil, comforted by the rhythms and songs of the earth. And now he was the Great Stealer. “Why do I draw it?”

  “You have the potential for great good or evil. The universe notices.”

  “Why the bloody hell are you bringing this up now?” Barrons always had a reason. He never talked unless he needed to in order to accomplish an aim.

  “You’re about to meet someone. Greet it with warmth and respect. I won’t tell you again.”

  Christian stopped in his tracks. “That thing from Samhain is here?”

  “Another of the old earth gods. This one, however, will not run, they will decimate you if you fear them. The old ones can be cantankerous.”

  “Your pronouns aren’t matching. What the bloody hell is it—one or multiple?” When Barrons said nothing, he snapped irritably, “Where the fuck do you even find old gods? It’s not as if they’re just hanging about on street corners.”

  Barrons shot him a look of dark amusement. “You might be surprised. If you were one day summoned by those in need of your services yet greeted with fear and hostility, what would you do to those who’d called you?�
�

  Christian bared his teeth in a twisted smile. If someone dared compel his presence then treated him with horror and rejection…well, in his recent state of mind he might do worse than the old god had done. He’d live up to his fucking legend, every frightening bit of it.

  “Be glad the one that came that night wasn’t as bitter and broody as you. All things considered, it was surprisingly well mannered.”

  Christian narrowed his eyes. “As you’ve just been. You never explain.” Were they becoming…friendly? Was Barrons capable of friendly?

  “Power is gray. It goes where you will it, wrong or right, dark or light. Reviling yourself is the surest way to go dark.”

  Christian bristled but said nothing. The bastard had struck a nerve. Barrons didn’t know he’d begun hating himself long before he turned Unseelie, when he’d been but a lad, for hearing all those truths no one else could hear, for making those he loved uneasy, for inciting suspicion and fear. But even more shaming to his character—he’d come to revile those around him, to feel contempt for their lies and evasions, their inability to face what they felt. Between despising himself and looking down on others as liars and cowards, he’d grown to adulthood with a serious chip on his shoulder. He’d donned the mask of a carefree, good looking young Scotsman, but there’d always been a streak of darkness in him, perhaps even repressed sadism, seething anger at his fellow man. Was that why he’d been one of the first to turn Unseelie prince? Had the evicted magic of the dead prince somehow sniffed it out in him and deemed him a fine fit? Had Fae power targeted him long before that night at Ban Drochaid, even before Mac fed him Unseelie?

  He shifted his wings uneasily. Fuck, he had wings. He could fly. He considered that for a moment, looking for the first time past the Unseelie element of it to the simple beauty and power of having wings. The freedom. The strength.

  But since the day they began to grow, he’d done nothing but bitch about the itch and the pain, the need to clean them, how he could no longer sleep flat on his back. No position was comfortable, and he’d begun to fear, like a bat, that he might need to hang upside down to get any rest at all. And sure enough, the bloody things hurt most of the time, felt wrong on his body, kept him on constant edge.