They had been, according to Tia’s grandmother, Aya. They’d lost a third of their coven sisters the day they’d lost Asharet.
“I don’t know if it was love at first sight,” Markus went on. “Sekhanu never spoke of softer things like that, but he was taken with Asharet. She had power and beauty to go with it, balanced by a keen mind and a giving heart. Sekhanu always said she was his toughest challenge and his greatest conquest.”
He packed up the remnants of their meal. “They showed us how jackals and witches could work together, to forge greater power and protections together. With them leading us, we were able to protect the land from the Lost Ones for five generations. And then the night of blood came.”
“When Asharet and Sekhanu died.”
A sharp nod. “An outbreak of Lost Ones rising in the desert near Saqqara had me away from home for several days. When I returned, the deed was done—the temples destroyed, our leader and priestess dead, our priest missing, our allies became our enemies. The undead we fought, they were different. Not mindless creatures intent on taking from the living but focused, thinking beings that attacked as if they’d been combat-trained.”
“Do you think they were soldiers who retained some of their humanity?”
“Yes, and gained new abilities. I also believe the uprising was a deliberate ploy to remove a large number of Sons so that the temples—and Sekhanu and Asharet—were unprotected.”
Guilt drenched his tone, and she reacted to it. “You couldn’t have known what would happen. You did your duty as you’ve always done. Sekhanu and Asharet were powerful, you just said so. They wouldn’t have fallen easily.”
“No. But fall they did.” He fisted his hands. “The least I could have done was die defending them.”
Rising to her knees, she reached out and wrapped her fingers around his bicep needing to touch him, to offer some sort of solace. “What good would that have done, versus the good you’ve done since? Your clan has survived because of you. I think Asharet and Sekhanu would prefer this to your death.”
He snorted, shaking off his sour mood. “Defended by an Isis witch. Who would have thought?”
He gathered their plates and tray and placed them on the dresser. “We have a common enemy, Tia. Someone powerful enough to command the Lost Ones and secretly betray both the Sons of Anubis and the Daughters of Isis. I have thought on this for years. Every jackal I have considered capable of that level of treachery I have discounted. I can only believe the threat came from an Isis witch.”
Tia sank back down on the bed. She didn’t want to believe that. How could she begin to consider that a distant coven sister had set off a chain of events that created a four-millennia-old blood feud? She knew her circle had a single-minded respect for power—her own supposed lack had been impetus for her to become a solitary practitioner. Still, she couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to overthrow Aya, still a powerful high priestess. If Asharet was even more so, wouldn’t that make her even less vulnerable? Surely if a Daughter of Isis was responsible for Asharet’s death, Aya would have known and done something about it.
Tia rubbed her forehead with her palms in sudden fatigue and frustration. “I don’t know anyone capable of that. I don’t think Aya does, either.”
“Think, Tia! Think of all the Daughters that you know. One of them has to know more about the night of blood. Someone, one of the survivors, had to have seen something, or have suspicions of who would want Asharet destroyed!”
“I don’t know, Marcus, all right? I don’t know!”
They stared at each other for an electrified moment. Finally, Markus scrubbed a hand over his head. “I’m sorry. I’ve spent centuries on this mystery, coming close but never getting answers. The Lost Ones have gained in strength and numbers while the Sons of Anubis are threatened now more than ever. Even if I can’t defeat the undead once and for all, it would end the conflict with the Daughters of Isis and return us to being the allies we once were.”
Sincerity rang in every word he spoke and Tia found herself wavering, wanting to believe him, wanting to trust him. Wanting to do anything to erase the pain and weariness that tarnished his golden eyes.
“I’ll talk to my grandmother,” she offered. “I’ll take your message to the Elder Sisters and the circle. If the threat is as great as you say, it would be stupid for our people to keep being at each other’s throats.”
His expression lightened. “I didn’t think Isis witches like you existed anymore.”
“I’m not all that special.” Bitterness filled her mouth. “As far as my circle is concerned, I failed to live up to my promise or my potential. Nobody begged me to stay when I left. Even Grandmother Aya thought it was a good idea to go. The Elders might not let me speak to the full coven.”
His touch to her shoulder surprised her. So did the compassion in his eyes. “Their loss is the jackals’ gain. You promised to help my people and you have lived up to that potential. Maybe it was the will of the gods, you leaving your circle. After all, if you were still with your coven, you wouldn’t be here now.”
She arched a brow at him. “And that’s supposed to be a good thing?”
At least he had the good grace to look chagrinned, even if he didn’t mean it. “For the record, I’m sorry I didn’t offer you the choice to help us.”
Her heart did another flip in her chest. “For the record, I don’t know if I would have agreed to come with you or not,” she confessed, something loosening inside her.
He smiled. “I would have taken you anyway. In this case especially, the ends justify the means. Still, it would have been gentlemanly to have offered.”
It was so ridiculous she had to laugh, though her laughter quickly disintegrated into a jaw-cracking yawn. With a full belly and restored magic, sleep now asserted its hold. “Nice to know there’s a gentleman inside there somewhere. I feel so much better now.” She yawned again as she crawled beneath the covers.
“Talk about being gentlemanly.” He shook his head in self-disgust. “You needed sleep.”
“I needed the food and the sex more.” She slid down deeper into the bed, her eyes sliding closed. Egyptian cotton sheets atop a mattress that molded to her body threatened to pull her under immediately. “But, yeah, it’s catching up to me.”
“Then get some rest. I’ll come back in a few hours and we can start the healing rituals for Alonso and Rashon again.”
“Come back?” she echoed, blinking at him. “Isn’t this your room?”
“It is.” He proved it by grabbing a pair of jeans out of a dresser drawer.
“Why don’t you stay?” At his surprised glance, she held up her hands. “I promise not to kill you in your sleep.”
“As if.” He tossed the jeans onto the dresser. “Even if you did, you’d still have to get past the jackals guarding the hall, and we’re all trained to grieve later, avenge now, no matter who falls. We have agreed to a truce, though, and after what we just shared, I’m inclined to trust you.”
She snorted. “Gee, thanks.”
“I should warn you, I am not a restless sleeper, but I don’t usually share my bed.”
“Same here.” She yawned again, her jaw cracking with the force of it as she wiggled into a perfect spot. “Call me crazy—and everything about the last day or however long it’s been has been the definition of crazy—but I think I’d feel better if you were here.”
The surprise that lifted his dark brows was the last thing she saw befo
re her eyes slid shut and she tumbled down deep into slumber.
* * *
Markus awoke to the best sensation a man could experience: a warm, wet mouth swallowing his cock. He fumbled for the lamp on the nightstand, tapped it on. “Tia, what are you doing?”
She rolled her eyes at him.
“I mean, I know what you’re doing, but why are you doing it?” Are you stupid, man? A beautiful woman is going down on you. Shut the hell up and enjoy it.
She pulled off him with a wet popping sound that was the most erotic thing he’d ever heard. “It was poking me in the back. Since it so obviously needed attention, I decided to give it some.”
“Blessed Anubis, woman.” His hips rose as she swallowed him again. Lust and magic increased, a heady combination he could easily grow addicted to. Probably already was. If this was what being enchanted by an Isis witch meant, he’d gladly surrender to it.
Sex for pleasure’s sake was foreign to him. Throughout the long years of their exile, the jackals’ intimate habits had been focused on survival, and survival meant building their numbers. Every sensual act with the opposite sex was considered a sacred and deliberate thing, always begun with a prayer to Anubis.
This was...freeing. Wildness rose in him, the primal call of male to female. Curling his fingers into the sheets, he gave himself over to sensation. When Tia’s fingers cupped his balls, he nearly whimpered but couldn’t keep silent when her tongue traced over his sac. Buffeted by the need raging through him, he groaned aloud, helpless against the sensual magic she wove.
All too soon he could feel it, the urge to come surging up from his toes. No, gods damn it! Not yet. “Tia.”
Relief and disappointment met as she pulled her sweet mouth away. “Yeah?”
He struggled for words as her fingers stroked him. “Condom. On me. Now.”
Her throaty chuckle almost undid him. She crawled to the head of the bed, dropping a searing kiss on him before reaching for one of the foil packets on the nightstand. Thank Isis she had a whole box of them in her go-bag.
She straddled his thighs, dark eyes fixed on him as she tore the pouch open with her teeth. Fingers wrapping around his cock, she stroked him, strong, steady pulls with a twist over the head just the way he liked it but made better by her touch, her magic. His cock swelled anew, hard for her, hungry for her.
“Ride me,” he demanded as she sheathed him. His fingers dug into her hips, muscles flexing as he lifted her. “Ride me.”
She reached between them to guide his hardness to her opening, dragging his sheathed cock along her slit to coat it in her wetness. Keeping her gaze locked to his, she sank down even as he thrust up, fusing them together.
She threw her head back on a groan, the dusky copper of her nipples capturing his gaze. “Gods, that feels incredible. I can barely breathe.” She squeezed him.
He let her go, digging his fingers into the sheets again in an effort to hold back, to wrestle for a shred of control. The fabric ripped as his nails elongated.
Her eyes rounded. “Are you shifting?”
“No.” He mangled the word, his sharpened teeth getting in the way.
She smiled at him, a light sparking in her eyes. “My, what big teeth you have,” she teased. “Like a big, bad wolf.”
“Jackal,” he ground out. “Desert dog. Not a wolf. Don’t play.”
Tia gave another throaty chuckle, obviously reveling in her sensual power. Tension coiled in Markus like an over-tightened wire, ready to snap with just the right touch. He needed release, needed to free himself of the pressure that threatened to consume him. She could do that for him.
“So I can’t talk about the other big parts you have?” She rose, slowly sank back down on him, then did it again, inner muscles tightening around him and driving him sensually insane.
He growled as he clamped his clawed hands around her waist. “No talk. Fuck now.” With that, he took the brakes off his control, driving up into her with rapid-fire strokes.
* * *
This! This was what Tia wanted, what she needed from him. Groaning with pleasure, she leaned over him, her nails sinking into his shoulders as she matched his frenetic pace.
He rolled his hips, igniting a wave of pure primal pleasure in her. She reached down, fingertips brushing over the spot where he speared her. His nostrils flared and he seemed to thicken inside her, his eyes burning with power. Riding his cock, she stroked her clit, driving pleasure even higher. She arched backward, his massive hands on her waist keeping her upright. She could feel his power, her power, rising between them, riding the crest of an ecstasy so sharp, so potent, she couldn’t do anything but cry out, her body a rigid arc of pleasure.
A vision slipped through the haze of passion, Isis revivifying the slain Osiris. Magic suffused the goddess, a white-gold glow that Tia could almost feel. She opened her hands, her body and her senses, reaching out for the offering.
Magic and orgasm struck each other like atoms, exploding behind her eyes in a massive burst of pleasure. She cried out again, her body burning, feeling as if her skin were too fragile to contain it. Then she could feel Marcus, feel his strength and his power wrap around her as he surged into her one final time, shouting as he came.
Chapter Six
A long while later, they quit the bed and dressed. Still trembling from the effects of her vision and her orgasm, Tia pulled a long white cotton sundresses from her bag. She smoothed the fabric down over her curves, then held her hands up. “I feel...different.”
Markus zipped up his jeans then crossed to her. His nostrils flared as he scented her. “You smell different. There’s more magic flowing through you than before. And your eyes—I can see swirls of power in your eyes.”
Tia trembled as goose bumps broke out over her body. “Great Mother Isis, She who is the Throne, guide me,” she whispered. “Show me your favor as you favored Anubis when you claimed him as your Son. Show me how to heal the jackal warriors.”
She closed her eyes as warmth enveloped her, the presence of both gods filling the room. “Markus, we need to go.”
She pulled open the door, stepping into the hallway. Jackals, drawn by the power surge, flooded the corridor.
* * *
“It’s all right,” Markus said, but Tia could hear uncertainty in his voice. The magic was a potent living thing, reaching out, invigorating everything it passed. Even the depictions of the gods on the walls seemed more vibrant, alive. “Let her through.”
They made their way to the holding room. Hector was already beside his brother while one of their few female jackals, stood just outside Rashon’s cage.
Markus snarled. “What are you doing here, Amarie? You know full well I ordered all children and females to remain sequestered until further notice.”“Forgive me for disobeying you, sir,” she said, her words tumbling together. “They said he was getting better and I wanted to see, but he’s not, his fangs are showing. I thought she cured...” her voice faded as she stared at Tia. “Goddess.”
“She’s here with us,” Tia said, placing her hand on Markus’s bicep. His anger at Amarie’s disobedience dissipated. “She hasn’t abandoned us.”
Markus followed her into the cage, dismay written on his face to see that Rashon’s condition had worsened.
A partial shift misshaped his face, fangs protruded from his upper lips and a gray pallor dusted his sunken cheeks. The o
dd scent of what could only be the Lost Ones mixed with Daughters of Isis flooded her nose.
“Tia?” Markus asked.
Tia knelt beside the cot. Webs of dark magic surrounded Rashon’s body, digging deeper into the jackal’s spirit. He was fighting it though, fighting it with everything he had.
She reached out, touched a fingertip to a thick cord of the strands. Several reached out, wrapping around her wrist, seeking her veins. She could feel the pulse of Isis magic coated and twisted with the decay of the Lost Ones. The two should have repelled each other but didn’t. How was it possible?
“What are you doing?” Markus hissed. “I can smell the curse on you now.”
“It’s trying to infect me, but it can’t,” she assured him. “It’s a blend of the undead and Isis magic, twined together into something new. It’s fast-spreading and insidious, like the kudzu vines that overtake everything nearby.”
“Can you stop it?”
“We can stop it,” she corrected. “I didn’t sense the undead power before, but I recognize it now. I can stop the part of the curse that has twisted Isis’s gift, and you can stop the undead magic.”
“Tell me what to do.”
She smiled up at him, grateful for his presence, his strength and his courage. “Put your hands on me. Our magics will connect again. We’ll draw the curse out and split the two components apart, then destroy them. When I ask, you’ll have to force Rashon into his jackal shape to burn off the last vestiges of the curse.”
Markus knelt behind her, his knees flanking hers, his heat and bulk comforting and already familiar and needed. He settled his hands on her shoulders. At once, her magic reached out for his, found it and clasped it to her.
Mills & Boon : Seducing The Jackal Page 5