by ML Guida
Back in Damon’s quarters, Hera paced back and forth, her heart beating a million times a minute. “Why did you tell Taog I could do this? Now, he wants proof, which I don’t blame him, by the way.”
“Will you stop pacing?” Damon asked patiently. He looked calmer than a cucumber, which really pissed her off.
“Why? Are you going to give me step-by-step directions on how to do this?” Her voice was getting a little too high for her comfort.
He grabbed her and kissed her. He dominated her protests with his lips and crushed her toward him. She struggled, pushing on his chest, but then she relaxed into his arms. He tasted of strength and belief–belief in her. Something she’d lacked. Nearly getting evicted didn’t exactly make her feel confident. She’d made too many mistakes to count, but Damon made up for where she lacked.
But what if he was wrong? People could die because of her. She couldn’t live with their deaths resting on her incompetence.
The kiss deepened, and she forgot about everything except for Damon–his muscles, his loyalty, his sexiness. He rubbed his hands up and down her back, setting off chills and desire in every direction. She leaned into him, wanting to feel flesh against flesh, but something unexpected happened.
A slow glow brewed in her chest. It was the same fluttering sensation as last time, spreading through her like melted butter. The power pumped through her. She pushed on his chest and turned her mouth away.
“Stop,” she gasped. “I can feel…it. It’s happening.”
He slowly unwrapped his arms. “I knew you could do it. Do something.”
She gestured with her arms. “Like what?”
“Can you bring on the light?”
“I don’t know. I can try.” She closed her eyes and thought of the light. Warmth rolled over her skin, turning into a glistening sweat. She opened her eyes and concentrated, thinking of nothing but bringing light into the room.
She put out her palms, hoping this would spring forth a brilliance, but she was met with a nasty frustration. Her palms curled into tight fists.
“I told you nothing would happen,” she said angrily.
“Try again.”
“This is pointless.”
“Hera, we’re counting on you.”
His voice was gentle, but she detected a hint of frustration. She’d told him that this was an impossible task.
She met his firm gaze. “Then you’re counting on the wrong chicken.”
“Please.”
It was such a simple plea, but with so much emotion. They’d lost all their women and still fought and died to protect Earth.
She drummed up another attempt, but instead of light, a blanket flew off the bed and slammed into Damon’s face.
“What the hell?” he growled as he yanked it off.
She covered her mouth, trying not to laugh. “Sorry.”
“Did you do that on purpose?”
“No.”
“I was afraid of that.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Hera, on the planet, there can’t be any mistakes. We’re trying to trap the king, which won’t be easy. He’s the most powerful dragon of all of us–and he’s possessed.”
She shuddered, thinking of the Excalibur’s hull and how badly burned Damon had been upon his return. “What do you want me to do?”
“I think physical contact with me aids your power, but I believe you possessed this before you met me.”
“Maybe, but I can’t remember anything as of three months ago. I’ve told you this.”
He clasped her chin. “That’s before you released the power. You need to concentrate.”
He caressed her flesh with his thumb, sending feathery tingles through her.
“How?”
He dropped his hand. “You need to relax.”
“Easy for you to say. I’m not a warrior, Damon. I’m just a struggling waitress.”
“You’re more than that.” He grabbed a chair, then motioned with his hand. “Here, sit.”
“Why?”
“Trust me.”
He flashed her a grin that melted any doubt in her heart. She hesitantly sat in the chair, unsure what he was going to do. He put his hands on her shoulders, and she jumped.
He laughed. “Relax.”
She glanced up at him. “I’ll try.”
He gently put his hands on her shoulders again and kneaded her stiff muscles, rooting out the painful tension, but then he increased the pressure, molding and sculpting her until she all she could think about was his hands. She hung her head down, allowing him to pinch and dig his fingers into her flesh, undoing the tight knots. She could sit here forever, letting those magnificent hands move along her body, searching out every tension until she was a bowl of jelly.
“Does this feel okay?” he asked.
“It feels wonderful.”
“Good.” He slid his hands down to her arms. “Do you think you can try and do something again?”
“Mmm, I can try.”
“That’s my mate.” He kissed her gently on the cheek, then took her by the hand and pulled her out of the chair. “Concentrate on the blanket on the floor and put it back onto the bed.”
“That’s two things.”
“I know.”
Drawing on the power again, cool air brushed over her skin, raising the hair on her arms. Her heartbeat went from steady to volatile, sweeping blood through her like an angry river. The air crackled around her, her hair stood on edge, her breath turned cold–something was coming, something was about to break loose–
But then nothing. God, what the hell!
She shook her head violently. “Fiddle-dee-dee, I feel like there’s a veil over my eyes keeping me from finding out the truth.”
Frustration boiled over her words.
“Keep trying.”
She stared at the blanket, willing it to move, but it lay stubbornly on the floor, taunting her. She clenched her fists and took deep breaths.
Nothing.
“I can’t.”
“Don’t give up. You have to do this.”
“There could be another way.”
“There isn’t, or Padean or Tryker would have found it.”
His firm voice left her little choice.
She had to do this–not just for them, but for her. She was tired of being a failure. For the next few hours, she worked on making something move. Her brain was a mess, and she was sweating so bad her clothes stuck to her like tar. Every muscle throbbed.
She shoved her hair out of her face. “It’s…not…working.”
He drew her into his strong arms. “I know.”
She laid her head on his chest, listening to his comforting heartbeat. “The only damn thing I’ve managed to do was move the stupid blanket.”
“Six inches,” he whispered.
Tears of frustration fell down her cheeks. “Which means diddly-squat.”
He lifted her into his arms. “Shhh, I’ll hear none of that. I think you need to know how much I appreciate what you did today.”
Damon laid her down on the bed, then slowly stripped off her clothes. The air cooled her hot body, and she watched him as he shed his clothes. His body was magnificent, and she ached to slide her hands over him and kiss him. His faith in her made her want him.
“I think you’re right.”
She stretched out her arms. He smiled and slowly lowered himself onto her and kissed him, indulging in his masculine taste. He kissed and licked every inch of her body until she was wanting with need. His rough beard chafed her sensitive skin. Her rat-a-tat-tat heart sent blood drumming between her thighs. She ran her hands over his body, discovering every muscle and learning what made him gasp and moan, making her smile that she could make him quake with passion just as he did with her.
Their hands and lips slowly discovered ways to please each other. His heart beat as strong as hers. When he entered her, he thrust hard and deep. She locked her legs around his thrusting hips and hu
ng on for the blessed ride. She came hard and fast, screaming out his name and digging her nails into his massive shoulders.
He followed her, coming just as forceful, then collapsed on top of her. His warm breath caressed her hot skin. She pushed her fingers through his wet locks.
“Tomorrow, I swear, I’ll figure out what’s missing.”
He kissed the hollow between her breasts. “Of course you will. You’re my mate.”
She fell asleep in his arms, wishing he’d say he cared about her. Having sex and saying she was his mate wasn’t enough. But then, how could she compete with a queen?
13
Hera found herself walking in a desert. Ahead of her was a town with familiar lights and buildings. This was Earth! She sucked in her breath. She knew this place, grew up here and thought she had family here, but the name and family escaped her. There were answers there. Answers she desperately needed.
She ran toward it, but with each step she took, her legs grew heavy, and it was as if she was sinking in quicksand.
“No!” she cried, but her voice fell on deaf ears.
She lifted her leg, and it sank deeper and deeper–all the way to her knee. When she tried to hoisted her leg up, it failed to budge. She was stuck.
“No!” She raised her clenched fists. “Is anyone there? Help me!” She thought of Zalara and the Orion. “Damon, where are you?”
She looked to the skies for a dragon but didn’t see one. Disappointment seized her. Mist slowly covered the sleepy town. She was so close.
Something moved within the fog. A bear prowled toward her. Fear sent her pounding heart running down to her feet, but then the form seemed to change to the shape of a slender woman. She must have been imagining the bear.
Hera waved her arms over her head. “Please, help me!”
The woman moved toward her, but the fog disguised her. “Hello, Hera.”
Hera wracked her brain. She knew that voice, but it had escaped her. “I…I know you.”
“Yes, you do, but I’m not ready for you to remember everything…just yet.”
She gritted her teeth. “Why?”
“Oh, my dear. You were a naughty little witch.”
The woman’s porch light was on, but no one was home. “I’m not a witch.”
“Yes, you are. I stripped you of your powers.”
“Because?”
“You hurt people in our little community. Or at least you tried. I cast a spell on you to make you forget until you redeemed yourself.”
Her pompous attitude ruffled Hera’s spine.
Hera glared. “So, why am I here, Spell-Girl?”
“I see your smart-alec attitude is still intact. However, instead of thinking of yourself, you’re risking your life to save the Zalarians.”
“You know of the planet Zalara?”
“Yes, we have a fellow resident who is a Zalarian.”
“You do? Who is he?”
“His name doesn’t matter. Besides, his parents wanted him to be anonymous. The important thing is what you’ve done. I’m neutralizing my spell. Tomorrow when you wake up, you’ll find something you’ve been missing.”
“What?”
The woman laughed. “You’ll see. Good night, Hera. We’ll meet again. If you play your spells right, I’ll return something else you’ll need. However…” Her superior voice turned hard. “You must do something completely out of character for you.”
Hera woke up, wildly gasping for breath, her body soaked with sweat. She thought she was about to have a heart attack, but her frightened brain slowly realized that Damon’s strong arms cradled her against his chest. His soft snores eased her terrified heart. She sighed in relief. At least she was safe.
Great balls of fire, had that been a crazy dream or a vision? She swore she knew that town and that woman, but a black blanket slammed over her memory, and she couldn’t remember a thing. The woman had to be a witch and cast a spell on her, claiming she’d been a bad witch. What the hell did that mean?
If she was under a spell, would Cosima have the power to break through it? But what if she discovered that she had been evil? What if she’d hurt people? Would Cosima banish her? Worse, what would Damon do?
Damon released a soft snore, and she stared at his peaceful face. His eyelashes graced his cheeks, and he looked so young and all his worries were gone. Her inner thighs were still sore from their passionate lovemaking. How could a man make love like that with a woman and not care for her?
He was possessive of her, but it was only because she was his mate. As far as she could see, Zalarains didn’t have to be in love with their mates, which sucked. Because obviously her silly heart didn’t beat that way.
She snuggled closer to him; his arm draped over her. She was about to fall asleep when she noticed a book on the nightstand. It hadn’t been there before. The heebie-jeebies slowly crept down her spine like spiky spiders. Goosebumps exploded all over her, and she shivered.
“Are you cold?” Damon whispered in her ear. He nuzzled her neck. “Do you want me to make you warm?”
She couldn’t take her eyes off the red leather-bound book. “Damon?”
He jerked his head up. “What’s wrong?”
“Is that your book?”
He followed her gaze. “Hell, no. That’s not mine. How’d that get here?”
“Damon, I had…a dream…or a vision. I’m not sure.”
He frowned. “Tell me what happened.”
Hera quickly relayed the dream.
“What’s a witch?”
“Someone who is gifted and can do magic.”
“That I believe. But what’s with the book?” he asked, as he grabbed it off the stand.
She scooted out from underneath him and picked up the book. Memories slammed into her of casting spells, performing magic, dancing under a full moon. Electric shocks zapped her fingers. She cried out, but couldn’t let go. The book wouldn’t let her go.
Damon grabbed her arms. “Hera, are you hurt? Answer me.”
But she couldn’t. Her teeth rattled uncontrollably. A fast moving electrical current raced through her hands, up her arms, then pulsed through her body, sending her in to violent convulsions.
Damon immediately jerked the book out of her trembling hands. He threw it onto the floor, as if it had bitten him.
She gasped. “No, stop.”
He ceased shaking her, but concern filled his eyes, and he dug his fingers into her flesh. “Talk to me.”
Pain throbbed in her shoulders. “Ow, you’re hurting me.”
He released her. “I’m sorry, but you’re scaring the hell out of me.”
She put the back of her hand over her forehead. “It’s a spell book. My spell book. I think I might be able to conjure a spell to capture the king.”
“Are you sure?” he asked excitedly.
“I’m sure. That means my dream was real–the woman was real, the place was real–my family was real.”
“You had family there?”
“Even before the woman said it, I knew it looked familiar, and I could feel my family, but I still couldn’t see them. I probably wouldn’t recognize them if I saw them.”
His eyes turned stony. “You want to find them, don’t you?”
“Wouldn’t you?”
He reached over the bed and grabbed the book. “Yeah, I would.” He thumbed through the pages. “There’s strange ingredients in here, or at least nothing like this is on Zalara.”
“Damon, there’s more. The woman cast a spell on me.”
He turned away from the book. “Why would she cast a spell?”
“She made it sound like I’d done something bad with my magic. I hurt people.” She frowned. “Maybe I wasn’t a good person.”
Damon put the book aside, then rolled gently on top of her, forcing her to look at him. He stroked her hair. “I don’t know what you were like in your other life, but I know what you’ve been here–I’ve liked what I’ve seen. You’re a good person, Hera. You d
idn’t deserve to be cursed.”
He was so sincere, and she desperately wanted to believe him, but what if Cosima found out differently? “But you don’t know what I did. Fiddle-dee-dee, I don’t even know what I did.”
“Maybe she was an evil witch.”
She thought about the woman in her dream then shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“Cosima would be able to decipher whether she was a threat or not.”
“She didn’t seem evil, but she was powerful. I could feel it emitting from her. If she’d been evil, she could have easily killed me. No, I think she wants me to learn a lesson.”
“What lesson?”
“I think I have to make amends for my past.”
“How can you do this if you don’t even know what you did?”
“Well, I must have done something right, because she returned my spell book.”
He kissed her hungrily. “As far as I’m concerned, you do everything right.” He ran his hand down her side, sending chills through her.
“I’d better get up and start practicing. Taog will want to know if I mastered this.”
“You’re probably right.” He sighed, then rolled over on his back. “If you don’t get dressed–” he flicked his gaze over her– “Taog will have a major disappointment.”
Heat burned over her at the desire in his eyes. She quickly got out of the bed before he made good on his wicked threat.
He laughed as she nearly fell, dragging the blanket to cover herself.
“Let me get you one of my shirts.”
He rolled out of bed, perfectly comfortable in his nakedness. She couldn’t help but admire his beautiful body. Not many women she knew got to sleep with Adonis.
“Here.”
“Thank you.” She slipped it over her head, then sat cross-legged on the bed. When she picked up the book, tingles swept up her arms, but this time, they weren’t violent. She ran her finger down the leather spine, and she swore the book shivered. There was definitely a connection between them, but she had no idea on how to wield it. She flipped through the pages that didn’t have words, but had pictures of plants and flowers and animals and different geometric designs, trying to see if anything sparked.