Ellida

by J. F. Kaufmann

  She chuckled. “It was aikido, not kung fu, but we gave up on any kind of art of fighting long ago. He teaches me now how to fight dirty.”

  “You seem to be a good student, then. Takeshi’s quite happy with your progress. He says you’re a natural talent.”

  Astrid gave me a suspicious look. “Really? He rarely says anything to me, except, occasionally, that I’m hopeless. Except maybe with those bamboo swords. I like that. And the bow. Takeshi’s satisfied with my archery skills. He still doesn’t say anything, but I can see it,” she said proudly.

  “When did you start with archery lessons?”

  “A few days ago. It’s so easy, Jack. Your arms must be completely steady and firm, but relaxed. And then you just release the arrow. There’s only one trajectory between point A, the tip of the arrow, and point B, the target. You find exactly where that path is in the space, and that’s it. No big deal.”

  I shook my head. “Find the trajectory in the air? No big deal? Yeah, for an asanni.”

  “I’m not using my wizard energy. The whole point of my training is to equip me with some human skills.”

  “And you can nonetheless see the supposed path between the arrow and the target? You’re full of surprises, Miss Spock.”

  “Yeah, I see it as a thin red line. I align the arrow to it, I shoot, and whiizzz… The arrow’s on the target.”

  “And whiizzz? That’s it?”

  “Easy, told ya.”

  No wonder her teacher was impressed.

  AROUND BREAKFAST time I finally tucked Astrid into bed. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she was fast asleep.

  I took Blueberry downstairs to feed her with a bowl of fresh cream. I’d never been a great cat person, but Astrid’s little blue-eyed tabby and I’d quickly become very fond of each other.

  Again, James had insisted everybody stay for a sleepover. I saw Peyton’s purse, Alec’s car keys, Drew’s scarf and Ahmed’s jacket scattered around the room. The whole band had come here last night with us and had stayed over. James was always happy with the house full of people.

  I smiled. No wonder James was adored. An accidental, even reluctant Enhamir at the beginning, he hadn’t hesitated to step in to prevent any conflict within the clan after my refusal to become the Einhamir.

  James was the only person who knew the true reason why I’d refused the position that had been offered to me. I wanted to go to war with Seth, and I knew I’d get enough support in Red Cliffs for that. James thought enough lives had been lost. “This isn’t the right time, Jack,” he’d said. “We’re not ready. Seth is too strong, and you and I are not bloody Agamemnon and Menelaus. Don’t let those hot heads here push you into a war you’re not sure you can win. Jack, Seth has started this, but we’ll finish it. I give you my word…”

  The next day I thanked the Council for the offer and suggested James as my temporary successor.

  James had made a few bold moves and won over the Red Cliffs hard line. He’d become the Einhamir Red Cliffs needed the most at that moment. He had also secured my future position. Over time he’d started liking being Enhamir. He was a natural leader, respected, popular, unselfish, firm and brave. Yet, he didn’t try to keep the position for himself a day longer than it was necessary.

  His legacy was huge. He’d left giant steps for me to follow. And yet I knew he believed in me, and his trust filled me with pride and confidence.

  I FOUND Ahmed in the living room, leafing through some old newspapers.

  “You’re up early. Coffee?” I offered.

  He nodded. “Please.”

  “Did you sleep well?” I asked as I came back with two mugs in my hands.

  “Excellent. I don’t need much sleep, of course, but long ago I adopted human sleeping habits, among some others,” he said. “It was a way to deal with—”

  “An infinity of time?”

  “Something like that, yeah. Now I quite like it. You see, I lived among humans and werewolves, but I never stayed long enough to become close with them. And here I feel as if I’ve come back home. I feel connected, not only to my kind, but to humans, too.”

  “I used to wander around quite a bit. That was my escape, my way to deal with my own pain and hurt, big and small, my fears and my mistakes. I had the same feeling every time I came back. Coming home helped me to heal, glue my broken pieces, become whole again. People here are nosy, they gossip, sometimes you feel you have no privacy, but they are also compassionate, there’s so much in them to give and to receive. This is home, Ahmed. That’s why it feels good.”

  For a while Ahmed was lost in his thoughts, and then he just nodded.

  “Are you going to work on your house today?” He asked after a while.

  “I want to finish the floor in the master bedroom. The new bed will be delivered on Monday.”

  “Let’s go then. I’ll help you. We’ll be done before noon.”

  I TOOK Blueberry back to our room. “You are too old to sleep in our bed, young lady. Besides, we don’t want to accidentally squish you,” I whispered. I placed the kitty into the cushioned basket that Astrid had bought for her and put it on the armchair. “There. Be quiet now. Our big girl needs a good rest.”

  Risking waking her up, I kissed Astrid’s warm, red lips. They tasted like sweet cherries. She stirred and let out a soft moan, recognizing my touch.

  Downstairs again, I made another pot of coffee for Ahmed and myself.

  He went to his place to shower and change into work clothes, before we met at my house.

  Soon we were both completely absorbed in the simple yet satisfying job of installing the parquet flooring.

  Twenty-One

  Astrid

  WE WERE kissing. I felt Jack’s soft, warm lips over mine, first gently, then more and more passionate. We were in my house in Rosenthal, and I wanted to ask him how he’d made it over the nightingale floor because I hadn’t heard it squeaking. “What took you so long?” I asked instead.

  “You think your floor could stop me?” he said. “I jumped over it.” His hands cupped my breasts, stroking them gently. I could feel my nipples hardening.

  My fingertips traveled across his broad, muscular chest and hard stomach. “You are so smooth, Jack. I love how your skin feels on mine,” I murmured as my hands fumbled with the buttons of his fly. “Why don’t you just wear regular denim, with a zipper?” I asked, finally winning the battle with his jeans.

  Jack’s rock-hard erection filled my hand. I gently stroked the length of his shaft. A single drop of thick, clear fluid leaked from the small slit. “You are so big, Jack,” I sighed with a satisfied grin and dipped my head. “I’m not sure I can take all of you.” The tip of my tongue traveled lazily from the base toward the wide top, following the path of the prominent dorsal artery—for some reason its medical name popped up in my mind. “I’m not very experienced with this, Jack.”

  “Imagine it’s a popsicle that’s started melting,” he said, smiling.

  “It’s a rather huge popsicle,” I said and took him in my mouth. A delicious, salty and tangy taste hit my palette. “Mmm, I like it,” I murmured, swirling the tip of my tongue over the engorged head of his penis.

  Jack gently pushed me away. “No, Astrid, love, it’s too much… I can’t …”

  “More,” I moaned, “I want more… It’s so silky and smooth…” Then I heard myself singing Smooth, Santana’s famous song, “One of these nights I’m gonna sing this song,” I said between two lines. “You like that song, Jack? I love it, it’s so sexy… Make love to me, please, Jack.”

  Jack’s hands grabbed my knees pushing them apart, and then I felt his hard, hot flesh inside me, swelling even more, filling me with his length and width. My wide-open eyes found his, wolfish, topaz-brown, half-closed in ecstasy. “Jack, you have the knot!” I shrieked in half-surprise, half-delight. “You’ve knotted me, Jack! Oh, that’s why you told me I would have known if I’d had a werewolf lover before… Of course, you have bulbus glandis, that’s lo
gical. You are a wolf!”

  “Only when I’m with my wolf-girl,” he said through short, rapid breaths. “The knot will release, love, don’t be scared.” Our kisses deepened—long, luscious play of our lips and tongues.

  “I don’t want to be released,” I whispered into Jack’s lips, panting laboriously, the pressure building unbearably inside me. “I want to stay knotted forever… Oh, Jack, it feels so good… I’m yours…”

  “You are, baby… mine forever…” As the rhythm of Jack’s thrusts increased, my inner muscles clenched around the thick shaft of his cock. A split second after a hard, shattering climax raged through my body, I felt Jack’s heavy testicles tighten and his hot, thick release fill my hungry womb…

  A sound of a moan, loud, my own, snapped me awake. I opened my eyes, gasping for air. My hair was damp, my body sweaty. The bed sheets were crumpled under me, Jack’s pillow tightly squeezed between my legs, my hand somewhere there, too. I pulled myself upright, disoriented for a moment. Shouldn’t I be in Rosenthal? My left hand reached for Jack. I was so sure I’d find him on the other side of the bed.

  With a sigh, I fell back against the pillow and closed my eyes, clinging to the threads of my dream. My heart refused to slow down, its fast, strong beats pounding through my chest and echoing in my ears.

  Oh, thank God the room is soundproofed, was the first sane thought that penetrated through my mind.

  Still enchanted with my beautiful dream, I stumbled toward the bathroom, took a cold shower and got dressed.

  I FOUND Betty and Eamon in the kitchen.

  He spun me around. “Here comes our star! You were incredible, Astrid! They loved you! Are you ready to knock them out again tonight?”

  “Last night I was just warming up. Tonight’s gonna be pandemonium!” I said happily.

  Betty hugged me and kissed my cheek. “We are so proud of you, Astrid! You were fantastic! What a voice you have!”

  “Thank you. Oh boy, I almost ran away when the lights turned off, but once I started, everything was okay. Everything fell into place.”

  Eamon placed two plates in front of his mother and me and poured us coffee. “I made French toast for breakfast. Vanilla sugar or cinnamon sugar?”

  “Vanilla, please. Is there anybody in this family who doesn’t cook, except me?” I said, helping myself to a thick, golden slice of French toast. Eamon dusted it with powdered vanilla sugar and topped it with a dollop of fresh whipped cream. “Jack taught me how to make it, and now I think my French toast’s even better than his.”

  “Maggie couldn’t care less about cooking,” Betty said. “At least you found a husband who cooks. We’ll see if she’s going to be that lucky.”

  According to my various senses, only Maggie was still in the house. “Where’s everybody?”

  “Peyton, Drew and Lily left an hour ago. Peyton asked you to phone her later,” Eamon said, joining us at the table. “Alec’s with Jack, Dad and Ahmed. They want to finish the floor before the storm. The rest of the band left, too.”

  “Eamon,” I said, “I’d like to include Santana’s Smooth on our list. You’d sing it. I’d do the back-up singing. What do think?”

  Eamon laughed. “Funny you mention it. Jack really likes that song. We might even convince him to sing it. Sure, we’ll do it, one way or another.”

  A few scenes from my recent dream flashed through my mind, and I felt my ears become hot.

  TAKESHI WAS already waiting for me to continue with our practice. But before we started, before anything else, I wanted to see Jack.

  I found him alone on the main floor, in a big, bright area that soon would be the heart of our home—our big family room with the kitchen as its central point.

  Jack turned to me and a wide smile spread across his face. I threw myself into his open arms. He cupped my bottom and lifted me, setting me on his hips. I locked my legs around his waist.

  I closed my arms around his neck and set my mouth over his. “I missed you. I had a dream last night,” I murmured, moving my lips to his neck and shoulder.

  “Ah. I don’t need to ask what kind of dream. I was good, wasn’t I?”

  “Beyond description. Oh, I’m so tired of this stupid moratorium on our sex life.”

  “A few more sleeps, baby.”

  “Jack, we need you upstairs!” I heard Ahmed’s voice.

  “In a minute!” Jack said. “I have to go, baby.”

  “Wait. I need to ask you something.” I licked my lips looking for the right words to ask about a particular part of my dream.

  I’d had the brief pleasure of seeing Jack stark-naked twice. Every part of his big, magnificent body was well-built and proportional and nothing looked physiologically distinctive. Except that, now that I thought about it, he indeed seemed a bit wider… there.

  “Aren’t you going to ask me what we did in my dream?” I started indirectly, blushing. I closed my eyes and rested my forehead against his, breathing in his masculine, arousing scent.

  “Ahem, no, not now,” he said, a regretful note in his voice.

  “Jack, hurry up!” This time it was my uncle.

  I sighed. Well, I was a doctor. So far, I’d treated only humans, but there must be textbooks on werewolf anatomy. Or I could wait a bit and learn firsthand if werewolves indeed had that intriguing extra feature. If they had, then, logically, our female physiology must also be ‘customized’ to accommodate it, right? So there was nothing to be worried about.

  My hand slipped under Jack’s shirt, caressing his warm, sweaty skin. In a low voice, I sang the first few lines of Smooth into Jack’s ear, raising goose bumps on his forearms. “I dreamed I sang that song… Jack, do you have any idea how much I love you?”

  I lowered my hips until my middle part reached Jack’s hard arousal and then I kissed him like there was no tomorrow.

  “Whoa, whoa, easy baby! My control only goes so far.” He put me down and gave my bottom a gentle smack. “Go now. Ahmed and Dad need me there. I’ll see you later.”

  IN AN attempt to pull myself out of the erotic haze, I concentrated on my training, to Takeshi’s apparent delight. Three hours with a bow and arrows significantly smothered my sexual frustration.

  Later I joined Rawhide in the basement.

  “What do you think about some pop songs for tonight? The best of the 70’s and 80’s?” I said.

  “Oh, joy!” Bernard Wagner, Eamon’s friend from school and the band’s keyboardist and saxophonist, rolled his eyes.

  Eamon made a face but didn’t say anything. He pulled a piece of paper from the drawer. “This is our list for a pop night.”

  “What’s gonna be the last song tonight?” Sid asked. “Any idea?”

  “We can finish the night with some country,” I said and winked at my cousin.

  He rubbed his chin. “Oh, well. I asked for it, didn’t I? Well, cousin, country it is.”

  Bernard shook his head. “Oh, please, no! If we play country for the closing, we’ll be there till morning.” Then he tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, “But you wouldn’t mind, would you?”

  “Stuart phoned Jack earlier today and asked for permission to knock down some walls at Goblin’s to make more room and maybe even add a dance floor,” Eamon said.

  “Why did he phone Jack?” I asked.

  “Stuart is the manager and Jack’s the owner,” Eamon said. “Didn’t you know that?” He hugged me. “Considering your voice, you probably dreamed of a big stage in an opera house with an orchestra and big audience. Not country songs in a local pub.”

  I smiled at him. “I have the best stage, the best orchestra and the most wonderful audience in the world. My dreams came true, Eamon.

  Twenty-Two

  Jack

  OUR SOURCES kept informing us about Seth’s plans. It wasn’t an easy task since he was changing them almost daily. The bottom line was that he still wanted to take Astrid to Copper Ridge at any cost.

  Seth’s little empire of fear was crumbling, and he kn
ew it. He was like a wounded animal now, even more dangerous and unpredictable than before. He was running out of money. He didn’t trust anyone. Most of the time he spent in his room, planning an attack on Red Cliffs.

  He still kept a formidable force of a few dozen vampires and couple of hundred of his private guards—werewolf outcasts from all around the world—paying them with the last money he could rob out of his already impoverished people, and promising them the riches of Red Cliffs.

  There was also a great concern for Rowena and the men and women of the resistance movement. So far, thanks to heavy protection spells, Seth and his people were oblivious of it, but they knew they were dancing on the edge of the knife. There wasn’t a shadow of a doubt he’d kill them the moment he suspected they were working against him.

  ON THIS side of the Great Orme war preparations were in full swing.

  Livia and Tristan were about to move to a small farm close to The Watchman’s, near the borders between Red Cliffs and Copper Ridge. That was the closest place the Blakes could make it to without raising too many questions. In spite of the fact that contact between the two realms was almost nonexistent, people from both sides of the Great Orme managed to stay in touch, and news traveled fast.

  Ella and Arnaldur would come next month as Betty and James’ guests. They had visited Red Cliffs many times in the past. They were our friends and Astrid’s grandparents, so their arrival wouldn’t raise eyebrows.

  By the end of the month, Ingmar and two of his friends would secretly move to Silverbell Ranch, an old, abandoned cattle farm behind Charles and Lucy’s land. Liv’s small private Tel-Urugh army was on alert. Hayato, Morgaine’s husband and Takeshi’s father, a powerful werewolf from the Nakamura Clan, was also coming to our aid.