by Jane Godman
Cal coaxed her mouth open, making her lips and tongue tingle, as his hand continued to move against her. When he thrust a second finger in, her arousal spiked out of control. She tore her mouth from his, kissing his jaw and nuzzling his neck. He brought his thumb up to rub tantalizing circles in counterpoint to the thrusts of his fingers.
His teeth nipped her nipple as she arched her hips and began to buck and writhe beneath his touch. Stella’s whole body tightened, hurtling at double speed toward an orgasm that hit her head-on like a freight train. Pleasure swept through her in wave upon scalding wave until her toes curled and her fingers dug into his shoulders. She choked back a scream as, using those skillful fingers and with his mouth still teasing her breast, Cal coaxed the wave to yet another incredible crest. As she shuddered to a standstill, he kissed her, beautifully, wonderfully, so that she relaxed in his arms.
He lifted his head to study her face, and the look in his eyes caused a sharp flutter deep inside her core, an echo of the climax that had just ripped through her. “I want to make you feel good.”
“You just did.” Her throat was so tight that the words were barely a whisper.
“I want this to be even better.” His mouth sought hers again. As he kissed her passionately, he moved his hand. The contrast between the rough pad of his thumb and the smooth slipperiness of her still-throbbing clitoris was tantalizingly erotic. Stella moved her own hands lower, her fingertips tracking the length of his erection. She pressed her mouth to his neck, tasting his skin and inhaling his scent. He pushed a finger inside her again and her body convulsed, a torrent of sensations charging through her. She began breathing harder as he pumped his finger into her, taking her higher and higher until nothing mattered but the moment and the feelings he was arousing in her. He hooked his fingertip hard up against the sensitive bundle of nerve endings just inside her.
“Oh, dear God, I can’t be coming again.”
“Are you sure?”
He repeated the movement and she did come, the world exploding with the intensity of another climax. She gripped his arm and held on tight, riding out each wild, glorious wave of pleasure.
“I want to be inside you,” Cal whispered. His fingers stroked her inner thighs. The touch was gentle, so intimate and, even though she had just come, instantly arousing.
“Please,” she murmured.
As he spread her legs and lifted her so that she could wrap them around his hips, Stella pushed up, desperate to feel him. He leaned over her and his cock pressed against her opening as his mouth found hers. She moved her hips again, offering herself to him. He groaned as she welcomed him into her body, then, in one quick thrust, he pushed all the way into her. Her heartbeat picked up speed as their bodies rocked together, and soon she was lost to everything but Cal. He kissed her and drew her tongue into his mouth. She moaned and pressed her breasts to his chest, wanting the feel of him against her sensitive skin. The difference between his hardness and her softness drove the oxygen from her lungs and what was left of reason from her brain. He began to pound harder, as if he couldn’t get deep enough into her. It was as if he was seeking something more from her than his own release. Something was happening between them this time, something beyond their control. She looked into his eyes and the way he gazed back at her told her he felt this new connection between them, as well.
Soft quakes started somewhere deep in her core and rippled upward and outward. Stella couldn’t believe that it was possible for her body to endure, let alone crave, a maelstrom of such erotic intensity. She gripped Cal’s biceps, holding on to him as she let go, all conscious thought slipping away as searing heat tore through her. A moment later her body splintered into a million tiny pieces. She felt Cal swell and pulse inside her and she clenched her muscles hard around his cock, her body trembling as she held him tight inside her as if she would never let him go.
Her action drew a growl from somewhere deep in Cal’s chest. The look of ecstasy in his eyes as he came was enough to make her heart pound even more wildly. He attempted to gasp out a few words. “That was...” The rest of the sentence eluded him and he collapsed onto the bed at her side, drawing her closer.
Stella gave a contented sigh and wrapped her arms tightly around him. “I know what you mean.”
“I’m glad one of us does.”
Sometime later, Stella propped herself up on one elbow so that she could watch Cal’s face in the flickering light of the lamp he had lit. He lay back on the pillows with his hands tucked behind his head. “Tell me about the falcons.”
“Every sorcerer has an animal familiar. You know about witches and black cats, right?” She nodded. “My own familiar is the falcon.”
“But I thought falcons were associated with evil. I’m sure I’ve heard of them being a bad omen.”
“It’s a common mistake. The disposition of the familiar is unimportant. What matters is the intent of the master. So, if we return to the well-known theme of black cats and witches. Black cats are considered to be good omens in many cultures. Celtic superstition would have us believe they bring good luck. If your path is crossed by a black cat you will have great fortune. Those things will only hold true if the master of that black cat wills it so. If the master is evil, no amount of superstition will bring you good luck. When that cat crosses your path, you are doomed. We choose our familiars for other reasons.”
“Why did you choose the falcon?” The soothing quality of his voice lulled her.
“They are easily trained, both as guards and messengers. They are loyal to their master and are fiercely protective. As well as being my familiar, the werefalcon is the therianthrope with whom I feel most affinity.”
Stella shook her head. “That really is a thing? There are werefalcons as well as werewolves? I keep adding to my vocabulary of beings I never knew existed.”
“There can be a hybrid, a were form, of pretty much every animal you can think of. Whether there are any in existence at this time is another matter. Certainly werefalcons are a small but thriving community. Centuries ago, they were known to watch over mortals in isolated areas and warn them of impending attacks. Now, they tend to steer clear of humans.”
“Which brings me to the question of how you came to be in falcon form when the werewolf was here. You are not a werefalcon.” She studied his face. “Are you?”
He smiled at her questioning expression. “No, I’m not. But I do have the ability to shift into falcon form.” He regarded her in surprise as she collapsed back onto the bed, her whole body shaking. “What are you laughing at?”
“You. This. The fact that I am in bed with a gorgeous man who is matter-of-factly telling me he can change into a giant bird whenever the mood takes him.”
He pulled her back into his arms, joining in her laughter. “Nobody’s perfect, Stella. Not even me.”
* * *
Ever since the intrusion into the bower by the werewolf, and the new awareness that Nathan had been sent to rip out Stella’s heart, Cal had increased the protective barrier around them. Stella was still fascinated by the fact that the spells he cast needed nothing more than the power of his thoughts.
“I always thought a spell involved the mixing of foul-smelling ingredients and chanting of incantations.”
“For some it does,” he explained. “It depends on what you believe and how strong your ability is.”
“And yours is very strong?”
“Yes. As is yours.” His face was solemn and she went to him, stepping into the circle of his arms. In a short space of time she had become so dependent on his touch that, if she gave herself a moment to stop and think about it, it frightened her. Cal rested his cheek against the top of her head.
“You have had so many years to learn and practice. I feel as if I know nothing in comparison.”
“The prophecy states that you will be ready in your twe
nty-fifth year. That means your powers are at their peak now.”
“I hate that bloody prophecy.” Stella burrowed closer into his chest.
Cal’s soft laughter ended on a sigh. “I wish...”
Stella never found out what he wished for because the dense branches closest to them parted suddenly and a man strolled into the bower. She gave a gasp of mingled surprise and horror. Cal had assured her that the barrier spell he had used was so strong there was no chance of anyone or anything breaking through it to harm her. Yet, without warning, this stranger had managed to wander into their private world.
Cal was unperturbed at the intrusion. Releasing Stella, but taking her by the hand, he led her forward to where the other man stood. “Stella, this is Lorcan Malone. He’s a necromancer, too. He’s also a good friend.”
Lorcan was tall and lean, with the sort of edgy good looks that made Stella think of hell-raising rock stars or Byronic bad boys. As if eyes the piercing blue of wild cornflowers and dark blond hair that flopped poetically into his view, so that he had to keep pushing it back, were not enough, he was also possessed of a heartbreaking grin.
“I thought you said necromancers were solitary?” Stella was unsure that she wanted to share the peace of the place she had come to think of, albeit bizarrely, as home with another person. Even a friendly one.
“Generally necromancers prefer their own company. They’re not hostile to each other, however. And we’ve even been known to collaborate now and then. Especially on matters such as the future of the world.” The three of them went into the cave together and Cal began to make coffee, leaving Stella alone with Lorcan.
“I can’t believe I’m meeting you at last.” Lorcan’s voice was quiet, his Irish accent soft and lilting. “After all these years of waiting for the prophecy to be fulfilled and now...here you are.”
“You’ll have to excuse me if I’m not similarly enthusiastic.” Stella flopped down into a chair. “But this is all new to me. I’ve only just found out I’m a sorcerer and I don’t know much about it. Necromancing has never been high on my list of chosen careers.”
Lorcan came to sit on a cushion at her feet. His face was earnest as he spoke. “Those who have heard of it tend to think of necromancy as an evil practice. A dark art. But there is more to this world than what we can see, and necromancy is not witchcraft. It is a divine gift. We who have the power can channel the spirit world according to our desire. The responsibility that rests with us is great. We must exercise the choices before us wisely.”
“You make it sound like that is not always the case. Have there been evil necromancers?” Stella watched his profile, fascinated by the passion with which he spoke. She was also aware of Cal listening closely to their conversation from a discreet distance.
“God, yes, many of them. Still are. Necromancy can be a lucrative business, particularly now with the increased unrest in Otherworld. Some of our number are happy to sell their skills to the highest bidder.”
“You mean like mercenaries?” Stella could feel her eyes growing rounder at the picture that Lorcan was painting.
“That’s exactly what I mean.” Lorcan accepted the mug of coffee from Cal. “And, on that subject, I have news of our mutual friend. Unless...” He trailed off awkwardly.
“You can speak in front of Stella.” Cal came to sit with them.
“Yes, we’ve reached an agreement. We’ve decided that the whole ‘protecting Stella from the truth’ thing isn’t going to work. Or one of us has,” Stella explained, looking pointedly at Cal. He grinned appreciatively in return.
Lorcan gave them a slightly bemused glance. “Okay. My sources tell me that Jethro has been offering his services to a number of Otherworld leaders. His selling point, apparently, is that he will undertake to outdo the necromancer star of the prophecy.”
“And Jethro would be?” Stella looked from one to the other.
“Trouble,” Lorcan said.
“Nothing for you to worry about,” Cal said at the same time.
“Great. So let me get this straight. Unless I’m very much mistaken, it’s a bit like an old-fashioned prizefight. This Jethro—whoever he might be—is offering to step into the ring and beat me to within an inch of my life in return for a bag of cash from the highest bidder?”
Lorcan nodded delightedly. “Do you know what? That’s a really good summary.” His body jerked sharply and he swiveled round to look at Cal, whose foot had just connected with his ribs. “What was that for?” Stella watched as Lorcan’s eyes followed the slight jerk of Cal’s head in her direction. “Oh, right.”
Stella sighed. Despite the fact that she was the one in the firing line, Cal was obviously going to persist in being protective. She took a moment to examine how that made her feel. It provoked a warm glow that started in the region of her abdomen and spread outward from there. Whatever that feeling was, Stella decided she liked it.
“So do you live in a cave, as well?” she asked Lorcan.
“It’s not a prerequisite of being a necromancer,” Lorcan said with a laugh.
“I wasn’t sure, given that Merlin also seemed to have a preference for caves. Didn’t he spend much of his time in one?”
Something changed slightly in the atmosphere in that instant. Stella couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly. Neither Cal nor Lorcan looked at her, nor did they exchange glances with each other. Nevertheless, she sensed something pass between them. An infinitesimal shift in mood, a whisper of caution, a silently raised barrier. No sooner had she felt it than it was gone.
“There are so many stories about Merlin,” Cal said. “It’s almost impossible to tell which are truth and which are legend.”
Stella rose to her feet and stretched, yawning. “You know more about it than I do. Until recently, I wasn’t sure whether Merlin was real or a fictional character.” There it was again. That something flitted swiftly from one man to the other. “I’ll leave you to talk. I’m for my bed. No, don’t get up.” Raising a hand to forestall Cal, she went through into the secondary cave that was their sleeping area.
* * *
Their voices had lulled her to sleep earlier as they talked of Lorcan’s travels. When she woke sometime later in what she thought must be the early hours of the morning, Stella detected a change in the trend of their conversation.
There was a clink of glasses. “Sláinte.”
She heard Cal make a choking sound. “Shit, Lorcan. What the hell is that stuff?”
“Poitín. Sure, I brew it myself.” There was laughter in the Irishman’s tone.
“It’s lethal. You could incapacitate armies with that stuff.”
“Ah, get it down you, man.”
There was silence for a few minutes then Lorcan spoke again. “You should tell her. All of it.”
Although Cal spoke in quieter tones, his words also reached Stella’s ears. She thought his voice held a trace of regret. “I can’t.”
“We’ve been friends for longer than I care to remember, Cal, and I’d like to see you have a chance at happiness. You won’t get that if you’re not honest with her.”
Cal gave a soft laugh. “Since when did you turn out to be the wise one in this friendship? Put yourself in my shoes. Can’t you see how impossible it would be to explain it all?”
There was another clink of glasses followed by a brief silence. Frightened of missing something, Stella strained to hear. “Okay. I get it. Looks like you’re screwed if you speak, screwed if you don’t.”
“Thank you for your insightful summary of my life, Lorcan, my friend.”
“Anytime. Talking of being screwed, things are spiraling out of control in the other place, Cal. Otherworld is in complete chaos.”
When he responded, Cal’s voice was solemn. “The situation there is worse than any of us ever imagined. Paranormal activity here in
the mortal realm is increasing as a direct result. Evil deeds are on the rise across the globe. The veil between the worlds is thinning.”
“It’s hard to see a way to resolve it. There are those who do want to see peace restored and who crave a return to the old times when each dynasty had its own independent realm.”
“Those halcyon days are gone. There are too many power-hungry leaders who want control of more. The only good thing to be said for Moncoya is that he’s up-front. He has stated that he will not rest until he has subdued all the other dynasties and taken control of the whole of Otherworld. And he doesn’t care how much blood he sheds in the process.” Even from a distance, Stella heard Cal’s sigh. “We have to stop him. At least in Stella we now have the means.”
“You’re not going to like this question.” There was a pause before Lorcan spoke again, his words tentative. “Are you quite sure she is the one, Cal?”
“What do you mean?” Stella had never before heard that tone from Cal. It sounded as if he had swallowed liquid ice.
“It’s just that throughout all the long years of waiting for the necromancer star to appear, I envisioned a big, powerful presence. I never once pictured a pretty slip of a girl.”
“She is the one. I have known it since before her birth.” Cal’s voice held a trace of the commanding notes she had heard at the airport.
Lorcan’s answer was conciliatory. “Your call. After all, you know the prophecy better than anyone.”
“I do. And if you think for a minute that Stella is not a big, powerful presence—” from the way he spoke, Stella could picture him smiling now “—well, just wait until you know her a bit better. By the way, the fourth choir are on your case. Last time I spoke to the Dominion, he seemed keen to make sure you were doing your bit for the angels.”
“Ah, sure, haven’t they always had a thistle stuck up their celestial asses where I’m concerned? Just because they persuaded you to join their team they seem to think all other necromancers should turn out for the guys in the white robes.”