Soulceress (The Mythean Arcana Series Book 2)
Page 8
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“We’re screwed, Chairman,” Esha said to her familiar as she trudged up the spiral staircase to her tower. “There isn’t enough power in the world for us to beat what’s coming at us.”
He meowed his agreement, and she held the door open for him at the top of the stairs. He sauntered in and settled in front of the fireplace. Meowed again.
Absentmindedly, she waved a hand at the fireplace and flames burst into existence. Within seconds, he began to snore. She felt a smile almost stretch across her face, but it faded as she went into her bedroom.
When she reached the far wall, she pulled the dagger from the sheath in her boot. She grimaced as she made a small incision in her palm and placed her bloody hand against one of the stones that looked like all the rest. The stone disappeared and she reached into an enchanted space and withdrew a wooden arrow.
Please work. Andrasta had only given her one arrow, and Esha had never used it before. With a deep breath and a prayer for luck, she snapped it in half.
One second. Two. They were agonizing.
Then her friend stood before her. Naked and dripping wet, with a scowl that would rival a wet cat’s. A glorious laugh burst out of Esha’s chest, as if the tension and disappointment of the day refused to be held any longer.
“Why the hell are you laughing? What’s wrong?” her friend demanded.
The arrow was for emergency use only. It dragged her friend out of Otherworld no matter what she was doing there.
Esha tried to stop, even clapped a hand over her mouth, but her laugh had become one of those uncontrollable freakout laughs that was more about panic and less about humor. The glorious power that seeped into her from Andrasta only emphasized it.
“Ah, I’m sorry,” she said, finally catching her breath. “Let me get you a towel.”
She tossed her friend a towel and then found a T-shirt and jeans. They wouldn’t fit the much shorter Ana, but they’d have to do.
“I didn’t even know if that arrow would work,” she said, watching Ana dry off and tug on the clothes.
“Me either.”
“What’d I do? Pull you out of some humpathon with Adonis?”
“Wrong afterworld. He’s Greek, not Celtic. I’ve never even met him. I was taking a bath.”
“Sorry.” Esha tried to grin, but her laughing binge had sucked any levity right out of her. Her previous happiness was as gone as tuna in the Chairman’s bowl. She headed into the living room and curled up on the couch, knowing that Ana would follow.
“Thanks for coming,” she said when Ana entered the room. “I’m sorry I had to use the arrow.”
“It’s fine. I gave it to you so you could call me if you needed to.” With no phones or email in Otherworld—what with it being the ancient Celtic afterworld and all—there was no way to get in touch with Ana. Normally she just showed up when she could get away for a visit. “What’s wrong? Why did you need to see me?”
“For your power,” Esha said, guilt twisting something inside her until she swore it was a physical pain.
“Oh fates, don’t worry about that. You can have it all!” Ana could read her so well, but she meant what she said. Ana hated the power that made her a god.
“Thanks. That’s not how everyone else feels.” Whiner.
Esha rarely moped, but Ana was the only friend she had who didn’t speak Cat and just having someone to talk to made her want to spill her guts sometimes.
“You really need to get over that. Worrying what those assholes think isn’t going to do you any good.”
“I know. And I don’t really care. Not normally.” Beating herself up over something she couldn’t control was the height of stupidity, and Esha made a point to limit any conscious stupidity.
“Is it that asshole Warren again?”
“No. He actually apologized for being a jerk. I know he still has a deep-seated problem with what I am, but I think it’s mostly my own issue. Every other Mythean is an asshole about it, so I guess I’m just sensitive. Maybe too much so.”
Ana just shrugged. What else could you do in the face of truth? “Why do you need so much power all at once?”
“I don’t have time to find a big enough group of Mytheans before I have to go with Warren tomorrow to find the soulceress howf.”
“Why the hell are you going there? Isn’t it super dangerous?”
Esha told Ana all about Aurora and Warren and the hunt for one of her own kind.
Ana frowned. “But he’s been such a jerk to you. You’re helping him?”
Esha shrugged. “It was a good apology, but mostly I want to meet her. I’ve never tried to learn anything about my people. When I ran away from school, I was just trying to survive. By the time I got here, I guess I’d just turned into a big wimp who only wanted people to like her, and I figured that if I stayed away from anything related to other soulceresses, it would help.”
“Wow, I had no idea. You’re always such a badass, hunting rogues and spitting in the eye of anyone who looks at you wrong.” Her friend paused. “Which is basically everyone.”
“Yeah, well, my plan was crap. I know that now. I want more. I want to meet someone like me. Someone who won’t judge me on sight.”
“I don’t judge you.”
Esha smiled. “I know. And it means the world to me. It does. But I want to find this other soulceress. Maybe learn to control my power collection better.”
They talked for another hour, mostly about Otherworld, since Esha wanted to take her mind off things. Eventually, Ana left, but not before repairing the arrow in case Esha ever needed it again. Her power coursed through Esha’s veins as she checked out the tide charts and packed a small overnight bag. She was just closing her laptop when a knock sounded at her door.
“Hang on!”
She tugged on her coat and grabbed her bag. The Chairman was hissing at the door when she headed over to open it.
Warren stood outside, clad in a beat-up leather jacket and jeans. She told herself not to think about how good he looked. He made her act like a spaz, so the smart thing would be to ignore him.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Yeah. Come on in.”
He nodded and stepped inside. Absentmindedly, she twisted the lock in the door while following him into the room with her eyes.
“What did you find for a boat?” she asked.
“Cadan has one at his house that we can borrow. It’s got a trailer that we can use to get it to a better place to launch. We can stay at his place, too, if need be.”
“All right. Since the boat is at his place on the south side and we need to tow it north, we’re going to miss low tide this afternoon. The next low tide during daylight is at three o’clock tomorrow afternoon.”
“That’s less than an hour before sunset. We’ll need to hit it right on the nose or we’ll be in the dark. Let’s go tonight, stay at Cadan’s, and use the time to see to the boat. He said he hasn’t used it in a while, so we’ll need to make sure everything works.”
“Okay,” she said, but her mind went straight to the idea of spending the night in Cadan’s house with Warren. The place was big, but still. “Do you have everything you need?”
He held up a duffel.
“Good. We’ll leave from here. You’re going to have to wrap your arm around my waist,” she said as she stepped closer.
He stared down at her, his eyes intense, then wrapped a hard arm gently around her waist.
Her eyes snapped back to his face when he spoke. “I wanted to say thank you again for helping me with this. It’s… really important.”
Struck by the sincerity in his voice, she nodded, unable to break eye contact. Finally, she looked away. “I’ll take us to Cadan’s house. I’ve been there before, so it won’t be a problem.”
When she could feel the Chairman twining himself about her legs, she focused on his energy and her destination. Moments later, they stood in the front hall of Cadan’s home on the Isle of Mull. Sunligh
t streamed through the windows to illuminate a wooden floor and gray walls decorated with paintings of faraway landscapes.
“You can open your eyes now,” she said. The Chairman unwound himself from her legs and stalked off, presumably to find the kitchen.
Warren removed his arm from her waist and she mentally kicked herself for mourning the loss of him. She tossed her bag onto a bench, then turned to him. “Shall we go check out the boat?”
Later that night, after inspecting the boat and hitching the trailer to the Land Rover in Cadan’s garage, Warren wandered downstairs for dinner. Dealing with the boat had taken hours, then a shower and calls from work had kept him busy. He’d tried to keep his mind off Esha and he’d failed. Of course.
The kitchen was dim when he stepped inside, but the glimmer of light from the other room provided enough illumination that he ignored the light switch in favor of heading straight to the fridge. A quick glance revealed beer in the refrigerator and TV dinners in the freezer. He snagged a beer and put it on the counter, then wandered toward the walk-in pantry.
“Warr—”
He stumbled straight into Esha, who’d apparently been in the pantry hunting down some dinner as well. A box of crackers was clutched in her hand.
“Sorry.” But he didn’t step back to give her any space. He couldn’t. His mind was too wrapped up in how she looked.
Her hair was wet from a shower, and she wore loose cotton trousers and a threadbare tank top that molded to her breasts. No bra. The sight made his brain short-circuit and any thought of his long-enforced celibacy flee like a coward from a dragon.
“You’re looking for dinner too?”
He could barely hear her through the buzzing in his head. Without her usual armor of jeans and a leather jacket, the sight of her, so different from what he was used to, made him realize how much he wanted her. Made him realize how damn long it had been since he’d been with a woman.
Now, when he needed his iron will more than ever, it fled. The scent of her banished it from his being. They were a mere foot from each other, so close that it was easy to reach out with a trembling hand and cup the back of her head. Her raven hair felt like silk against his fingers. How long had it been since he’d touched something so soft?
Her lips parted and her amber eyes took on a wary sheen. “What are you doing?”
The words were but a whisper that bounced ineffectually against the force of his desire. He pulled her closer until he could feel her breath against his lips, hot and sweet.
“This is a bad idea,” she whispered, but she didn’t push him away.
Aye, it was a bad idea. Celibacy had been working really well for him. It kept his mind clear and focused, which he sure as hell needed. The responsible Warren who worked tirelessly for the university would have stiffened his shoulders and walked out. The Warren who’d decided to fuck the university and hunt for the soulceress who had stolen his soul didn’t care. The pressure of the last few days was breaking him.
Breaking him down into the components of his basest self: Need. Lust. Instinct.
He pulled her to him, groaning low in his throat when her body pressed against his. As his mouth closed over hers, she moaned, parting her lips. She stroked her tongue against his, inviting him in. He followed, desperate to taste her, to see if she was as sweet as he suspected.
“Warren.” She dropped the crackers and ran her hands up his chest and into his hair, gripping his head and holding him tightly to her, as if she never wanted to let go.
His surroundings faded. She was hot and warm and wet in a way that shot a bolt of lust straight to his cock. He wanted to touch her, to taste her, to tear her clothes off her and know every inch of her. The celibacy that had allowed him control over his life and peace in his mind suddenly seemed ridiculous.
Desperate, he yanked her up into his arms and pressed her back against the wall just outside the pantry, cupping the back of her head to protect it from the hard wood.
Her long legs closed around his waist and she rolled her hips. His cock surged at the feel of her, hot and soft against him. Only a few layers of fabric separated them. Too much.
“Gods, I want you,” he muttered, and gripped the curve of her ass.
Her mouth dragged down the side of his neck and he moaned, gripping her hips and grinding his cock against her softness.
“There.” She gasped. “Right there.”
She moved against him, gracefully at first, but soon devolved into mindlessness in pursuit of pleasure.
Could she come like this? The idea spurred him on, made him thrust and capture her mouth in hopes it would push her over the edge.
“Yes.” Her hands fisted in his hair as her hips grew frantic.
She was close, he was sure of it.
A great boom of thunder shook the house, and darkness crashed around them as the power cut out. Esha stiffened in his arms, her trance broken. She shuddered.
“Bad idea.” She scrambled out of his arms and away. “This has only ever ended terribly with you.”
“I—”
“No, we’re a bad idea, Warren. You don’t like me. Once, I wouldn’t have cared. But I do now. I want more than this.” She ignored the crackers she’d dropped and turned to leave, snagging his beer on her way out. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
Warren squeezed his eyes shut and leaned back against the pantry wall. A heavy breath heaved through his lungs. Damn it.
Suddenly, a wave of nausea replaced the desire, almost bringing him to his knees. Sweat broke out on his brow and he swallowed hard, trying to force the nausea down. His muscles weakened until he had to grip the door frame and will himself to stand.
Time for more pills.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Getting to the island was going to be a bitch. Warren surveyed the crashing waves that pounded the pebble beach, then looked over at Esha, who stood with her hands on her hips and serenity on her face. Afraid of nothing.
They’d avoided each other this morning and hadn’t spoken much while driving out to Bunnessan, the little town where they were going to put the boat into the water. Early afternoon sun struggled to illuminate the turbulent sea.
“Putting the boat in is going to be wet,” she said, nodding at the waves. “Once we’re out to sea, I can dry us. I’m not too keen on speeding through November winds on the Celtic Sea in wet clothes.”
Warren wasn’t as worried about that, or even about getting the boat into the water. It was landing at Fingal’s Cave that concerned him. If the winds were as strong there, the waves would be crashing into the vertical rock face. Navigating out of the cave would be a bitch too, since it would be dark by that time. He glanced at Esha again. Was he willing to risk her safety?
He didn’t have a choice. Not if he wanted to get his soul back. Memories of last night’s debilitating cramps hardened him. If he didn’t get his soul back before the medicine stopped working, he’d be completely nonfunctional.
And it wasn’t like he was going to turn Esha over to Aurora. Once Esha led him to Aurora, he’d have her safely away before he confronted the other soulceress. Though how he was going to manage that, he still wasn’t sure.
“Let’s put the boat in,” he said.
Within twenty minutes, they had the boat launched. Waves crashed over the bow of the sleek powerboat as they sped through the water. Turbulent gray clouds crawled over the horizon, threatening an early dusk if they kept up through the day. Just what they needed.
Though the air was brisk and the wind fierce, Warren could feel the heat of Esha, who stood right next to him, hanging onto the support bar attached to the steering console. He forced his attention to the wide gray ocean.
“Shite,” he said, thirty minutes later when he caught sight of Staffa. The small island rose vertically out of the sea, waves crashing against its steep sides.
“That’s it.” Excitement and fear thrummed in Esha’s voice as she pointed to the dark space at the waterline of the cliff.
“It’s almost exactly low tide. It’s now or never, but those waves are still pretty fierce,” he said.
“No problem. We’re entering a soulceress space. I can guide us in. I don’t have a lot of control over elements, but enough that I can get us in safely. I think.”
Gods, she was brave. The prospect of piloting a small boat into the churning water of a cave made solely of vertical surfaces perfect to crash your boat against would have lesser Mytheans running with their tails tucked.
Esha walked to the bow for a better view. Her midnight hair whipped in the wind and spray splashed her. The entrance to the cave loomed ahead, dwarfing her tall frame. Regret that he was putting her in danger crept under his skin with little claws, an itchy feeling he couldn’t shake. He was supposed to be in control of the situation, to be able to protect her, but already things were getting out of hand.
Warren piloted the boat inside, gritting his teeth at the narrowness of the waterway and the sight of the waves crashing into the vertical walls. When he’d been mortal so many years ago, it would have been considered a fairy cave, its octagonal pillars of basalt a gate to their lair. Inside, it was narrow, the cathedral-like pillars soaring high above the waterline. There was no entrance to the howf that he could see. Nothing but stone walls.
“There’s no place to tie off,” he shouted over the echoing sound of crashing waves. “We should retreat outside the cave and hike in.”
No sooner had he said the words than the water surged up, crashing over the bow of the boat and throwing him to the stern. He choked on the saltwater that burned his throat and eyes and heaved himself to his feet.
“Esha!” he roared.
“Here!” She coughed and stumbled upright from where she’d been thrown to the floor at the bow.
Behind her, the water rose again, unnaturally high and shaped like a long-armed beast. It reached out with unnatural arms and threw their boat against the cave wall. Fiberglass crunched and the boat crashed back into the water, listing dangerously to the side. He held his feet, but Esha was thrown to the floor once again. He started toward her, only to stumble when the boat was thrown into the other wall. Fiberglass crunched again.