Barefoot, long hair flowing freely behind her, she trailed her hand over the swaying spikelets of wheat among which she moved, fanning them beneath her palm.
She looked around and the gentle, alluring smile that touched her lips was a blessing. Her beautiful face was alight with life and happiness and what could only be love. Her captivating eyes lured and imprisoned the one watching her. The vibrant blue sparkled in the sunlight as the silver threads stitched through her dress.
Around her, the air was filled with the scent of juniper and honeysuckle. The rolling hills beyond were emerald green with clover and dotted with weeping willows that marched along a meandering stream.
He moved to the lovely one’s side and took her outstretched hand to lace his fingers through hers. He brought her hand to his lips and gently kissed her knuckles.
“We should be heading back,” he said.
“Not just yet,” she said, her luscious mouth drawing his full attention. “Please?”
He could deny her nothing. She was the greatest gift he’d ever received from the gods and he would gladly lay down his life rather than disappoint her in any way.
“We’re going to get our asses handed to us,” he warned. “He’s going to wonder where the hell we went.”
“A toll I’m willing to pay,” she said and leaned into him. Her bewitching eyes held a promise he meant to see her keep.
He put the crooked index finger of his free hand under her chin and tilted her face. His eyes roamed lovingly over her luminous features. His breath stilled when she parted her rich rose lips. The gleam of white, even teeth appeared behind the bowed upper curve. He loved that her central incisors were longer than the laterals.
“You are a bad influence, Laci Albright,” he whispered then lowered his mouth to hers.
Her lips tasted of the heady red wine they had consumed before she took her leisurely stroll through the amber stands of wheat. Her flesh smelled of gardenias. The suppleness of her body against his sent waves of desire coursing through him. Because he was what he was, he could hear her heart beating, the blood coursing through her veins.
Wanting her, needing her, he pulled her to the ground with him and stretched his hard body over her soft curves.
“You want something, milord Reaper?” she asked in a voice that sent shivers of desire through him.
“I want you,” he answered.
He took her mouth greedily, thrusting his tongue deep inside as he slid his hand between them to tug up the hem of her gown. He caressed the warm skin he encountered as he worked the skirt up her smooth leg until his fingers reached the small wedge of lace and silk that kept her sheath from him. He dipped his thumb under the fabric and into her slick heat.
She groaned and writhed beneath him as he began to slowly circle his thumb inside her. She pushed her hips against him.
“Like that, do you?” he asked against her lips.
“You are evil,” she said.
“You knew that long ago, milady,” he whispered. He flicked his tongue across her bottom lip then gently caught it between his teeth. Her indrawn breath made him chuckle and he eased his thumb from her.
“No,” she protested with a groan.
He released her lip, locked eyes with her then slowly and sensuously replaced his thumb with his middle finger, twisting it gently inside her until he found the sweet little button that lay in the dome of her cunt.
She bucked under him when he began to stroke it. He eased his finger inside her and then his ring finger.
“You are so fricking tight,” he said then nudged her face to one side so he could place his lips to her ear. “And slick.” He thrust slowly. “And wet.” Another slow thrust. “And hot.”
“And ready,” she sighed.
“Not yet you aren’t,” he denied and swept his tongue along the spiral of her ear.
She undulated her hips, brought her right leg up to crook it over his jean-clad rump. He pressed the bulge of his cock against her thigh.
“Feel that?” he whispered.
“I don’t think I could miss it, Reaper,” she answered. “It’s digging a hole in my leg.”
He chuckled and sent warm air into her ear. She shivered at the sensation.
“You do things to him,” he said. “Things that should be illegal and probably are in most states and small countries.”
“I’d do more to him if he were butt-naked atop me,” she said. “And if I weren’t hindered by clothing.”
“Would you now?” he inquired.
“Strip us and see,” she countered.
He had the same Reaper abilities as his Lupine and Hell-hound brethren and willed their clothes away to leave them naked in the field of wheat.
Not exactly a comfortable place to be and she let him know it.
“You wanted naked, woman,” he reminded her.
“The wheat stalks are poking me in the ass!” she complained.
He sighed. “The goddess had to grace me with a woman who does nothing but nag, nag, nag,” he said.
“Flip me over and you lie on the ground and see how you like it,” she challenged.
“No problem,” he said and rolled to his back, grimacing as the stalks dug into him. He frowned as he settled her weight atop him. “I see what you mean.”
She nodded. “Unh huh.” She reached between them and found his cock. When she levered her hips from his then impaled herself on him, he forgot all about the discomfort beneath his backside.
Slowly rolling her hips forward and back, she placed her palms on his chest and rode him gently until he put his hands on her hips and pushed her hard upon him. She arched a brow and he grinned.
“That’s all the permission I needed to give you a real workout, stud,” she said.
“Give it your best shot, mama,” he replied with an audacious wink.
“Remember, you asked for it,” she said.
Pure, unadulterated lust shot through his groin as she ground savagely against him. Her breasts bounced—grabbing his attention—and he lifted his hands to them, molding them as she arched forward and back. Her nipples were hard little pebbles under his palm. Her hot, silken cunt wrapped around his cock was pure heaven.
“You will be the death of me,” he told her as he arched his head back for the sensations rippling over his shaft were the most intense he’d ever felt.
“But what a way to go, Reaper,” she said and pushed down hard as her release came in lightning quick little squeezes that drew his seed from him in forceful jets.
“Laci!” he cried out.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The image of the beautiful woman whose dream face had started a chain reaction inside Dixon faded gently away but the thought of her, the longing for her remained and began to grow inside him.
She is my rightful mate, he thought. The one destined for him. The future mother of his cubs.
He knew her name and whispered it inside his mind, Laci.
He also knew who the male inside the dream was. It was the man from whom the Fiend had harvested the creature that now resided inside him, that had changed him from human to beast. He tried to capture a name from the evil thing but it would not give up the information. Even the bastard’s face began to fade from his memory.
“He is unimportant,” the creature said. “The woman is now yours.”
“Where is she?” he demanded.
“All in good time,” the creature whispered. “First you have work to do before you can be rewarded with what is rightfully yours.”
“Tell me! Tell me what I must do and I will do it!”
“Set evil to rights,” it told him. “But first you must Convert back into human form. Once that is done, we will begin the task set for you by the goddess.”
“Which goddess is that?” he asked.
“Morrigunia,” the creature replied. “The Triune Goddess. She who is the Mother of Reapers. It is She you need to thank for your good fortune.”
“I’ve never heard of Her but I
will bless Her until the day I die,” Dixon vowed.
* * * * *
“As well you should, Reaper,” Morrigunia said from her throne on Jeeoil, the home of the gods.
She had plans for Dixon Coulter. He would be an instrument of vengeance on those who were doing all they could to bring about The Burning War that would all but destroy Her beloved Terra. Although the conflict could not be prevented for it had been written in the Tomes of Time long before She had sprung from the foam of Her father’s shaft, She would do all She could to forestall the inevitable devastation of humankind and the scarring of Terra.
But there were other matters to which She must attend as well. As any mother should She had a recalcitrant child to settle down.
She looked away from the cell in what was called the Middle East on Terra and shifted it a continent away to settle on another of her cherished Reapers. This one needed to be brought down a peg or two and She intended to see he was.
“You are far too arrogant, handsome one,” She said as She watched him. “And you have gotten into the very bad habit of taking your mate for granted. That will cease.”
She closed Her eyes, willed Her punishment onto the shoulders of the young Reaper then smiled.
“Let’s see how you like them apples,” She said with a laugh.
Chapter Five
“You’ve got a helluva lady there,” Fallon told Taylor. “It’s rare for a woman to make the Supervisor back off.”
“Laci can break balls with the best of them,” Taylor replied quietly. He started to say something else but stopped, closed his lips.
“Something bothering you?” Fallon asked.
Taylor ran a hand through his hair. “Is this one of your hellions inside me?”
Fallon nodded. He narrowed his eyes. “You got a problem with that, cat?”
Taylor took a deep breath. “No but there is a problem,” he answered on the exhale.
“What makes you think so?”
“I can’t use my mind to speak with her,” he answered. “And your hellion? It doesn’t want me with Laci.”
Fallon had been lounging in the bedside chair, his long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, his fingers threaded behind his head. He lowered his hands. He sat up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know,” Taylor replied. “The hellion said Laci wasn’t mine. It said another female—”
“I want the precise wording!” Fallon snapped, getting to his feet. He snaked out a hand to grip Taylor’s arm. The psychic link between the Reapers was instantaneous.
The words came into the Hell-hound’s mind like oily sludge.
“The one you hold is no longer yours to have. She belongs to another. Share the mate of the one whose fledgling you now host. That one now belongs to you as well.”
“Hell no! That isn’t possible,” Fallon snarled, letting go of Taylor’s hand as though it were a burning coal. “Keenan is my life-mate!”
“As Laci is mine,” Taylor said.
“You’ll keep your fucking hands off my woman!” Fallon shouted.
“I’m not going after your woman!” Taylor yelled back at him. “I want my own woman!”
Down the hall the nurses looked up as vicious snarls came from Taylor Reynaud’s room. There was a loud, animal scream of fury then a louder growl.
“Mother of the goddess!” the head nurse gasped. “Call security. Call security!” She all but threw herself at the control panel of the monitoring system behind which she sat and flipped a single switch that controlled a multitude of purposes.
The heavy oak-clad titanium door that led into Taylor’s room slammed shut. Quadruple grooves appeared around the four edges of the door—in the casing above it, the threshold below it and down the casings to either side. Four eighteen-inch-wide tungsten locks shot out of the door—one each from the bottom and top rails, the hinge and lock stiles—and entered the deep-locking grooves, completely securing the portal. Tungsten-and-titanium-woven mesh rolled down from the ceiling and into the window casement to cover the bulletproof glass window. All electricity was immediately cut to the room and the water supply stopped.
“What the hell’s happening?” the chief of security barked as he and six of his men came running.
“We’ve two Reapers together and I think they have gone into Transition at the same time!” the nurse told him.
“Fuck!” the chief of security hissed. “Who?”
“Fallon and Reynaud.”
“Fuck!” he said again, his eyes wide. “They’re both Primes!”
“You think I don’t know that?” the nurse yelled back at him.
“Did you lock them in?”
The head nurse didn’t bother to answer. She jerked up the phone and punched in the Supervisor’s room number.
“Where’s the room feed?” the chief of security demanded. “Why don’t we have eyes in that room?”
“Patient privacy,” one of the nurses answered, for the head nurse was speaking urgently into the phone.
* * * * *
Laci took a small sip of the Chrystallusian plum wine the Supervisor had poured for her and settled back on the sofa. She was wary of the man’s geniality but trying not to let her guardedness show. The flavor burst on her tongue and she sighed with pleasure.
“Excellent, isn’t it?” the Supervisor inquired, about to seat himself in a chair that flanked the sofa.
“The best I’ve ever had,” she replied.
The phone rang and the Supervisor frowned. He crossed to the desk and picked up the receiver. “Yes?”
Laci watched the color fade from the older man’s face.
“We’ll be right there.”
Placing her wineglass on the cocktail table, Laci got to her feet. “Tell me,” she said, her insides quivering.
“Fallon and Reynaud are locked in Taylor’s room,” he said, striding quickly to the door.
“Why?”
“They may have Transitioned.”
“May have?” she asked as she hurried to catch up with him as he stormed into the hall. “May have?”
By the time they arrived in the trauma unit, everything was perfectly, chillingly silent. The nurses and security men were clustered down the hall—well away from the Reaper’s room. They turned anxious eyes to the Supervisor.
“Protocol was followed, sir,” the chief of security said.
“When did everything go quiet?” the Supervisor snapped.
“Right after I called you,” the head nurse told him. “We’ve not heard a peep since.”
“Well, they’ve either killed one another or they’re talking,” the Supervisor said. “Either way, we need to know.” He nodded to the control panel. “Call them.”
The head nurse looked at the chief of security and their faces turned red.
“Fuck me. You didn’t think of that,” the Supervisor grumbled.
“Let me,” Laci said. She walked behind the nurse’s desk, asked which button to push. She took a deep breath then flicked the switch. “Tay?”
Silence.
Laci bit her bottom lip then tried again. “Taylor?”
“We’re fine, chere. Leave us alone.”
She exchanged a look with the Supervisor. “Should we keep your room in lockdown?”
“We’ve issues to discuss,” Taylor replied, his voice tight. “Leave us alone now.”
“Maintain lockdown,” came Fallon’s order. “And turn off the fucking intercom. Our conversation is private.”
“What the hell are they up to?” the Supervisor snapped. He strode to the door of Taylor’s room, put his hands on his hips and stared at it for a long moment before throwing his hands in the air. He came back to the desk. “They’re sitting on the floor like two Indians at a pow-wow.”
Laci felt a chill go down her back. She wondered how many times the Shadowlord had used his abilities to spy on his people.
“I can’t see through the fucking door like Superman, Albright,” he mum
bled, clearly reading her thoughts. “Fallon sent me a mental picture to…” He snarled. “Reassure me they are in good working order.”
Fallon’s stare was as cold as the snowfields of his Siberian birthplace. His jaw tight, his lips pursed, as far as Taylor could tell the Alpha hadn’t blinked in the last fifteen minutes.
“I love Laci,” he told Fallon.
“And I’ll tear your head off if you go anywhere near my woman,” Fallon said in a voice that was half growl, half snarl.
“Has this happened before?”
The dark amber in the Alpha’s eyes lightened only marginally. “Not to my knowledge.”
“Who would know?”
Fallon cocked his shoulder slightly. “Perhaps the Supervisor. Maybe my mother. She…” He stopped and his angry eyes narrowed into thin slits. “Or my wife’s mother who hates my guts with a fucking passion.”
“She’s not happy you are with your lady?”
The Alpha Reaper snorted. “That’s an understatement.”
“Enough to find a way to influence your hellion?”
Fallon’s frown deepened. “If she could find a way, she might have. She has very strong psi powers that she was able to hide from the Exchange.” He finally blinked. “I don’t see how the fuck she could have influenced my hellion, though. Unless she has been communing with the Martiya.”
“The what?” Taylor inquired.
“The Martiya is a formidable evil,” Fallon said then appeared to shudder. “It’s what they sent after me. The beast gave me the beatdown of my life and nearly killed me. Its name means Spirit of the Night and it is pure darkness with savage strength, immense powers and a keen craving to maim and mutilate and destroy. I was taken from it before it could kill me but the one who sent it—a minion of my mean-as-a-ghoret mother-in-law—wasn’t happy about my salvation. My mother-in-law even less so.”
“I take it your mother-in-law wouldn’t tell you if she had sent the thing back at you. Could the Supervisor tell?”
“No,” Fallon said, “but I know someone who would.” He closed his eyes. “Old friend?”
Taylor felt an immediate sense of foreboding that made cold sweat pop out on his face. The foreboding quickly became real fear. He held his breath, waiting for something truly evil to come soaring toward him.
A Reaper's Love (WindWorld) Page 7