Longing's Levant

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  Kaibyn increased his hold on the lady and dipped his head so he could press a light kiss on her cheek. “You have nothing to worry, my love,” he said. “Your safety is of the most import to me, and I would give my life to keep you safe.” He laid his hand on her belly. “I will protect the child, as well.”

  “Dahkla is dead,” she said. “You were blood-sworn to her.”

  Kaibyn knew what was coming and also knew it would be best if he broached the subject, making himself the leader of the situation. “I will swear to you—in blood if you require it—that I will be your protector for now and until the end of your days. If you doubt me…”

  “I would have you all to myself this time, Kaibyn,” she said, staring into his eyes. “I do not want to ever share you again.”

  Though he sighed inwardly, Kaibyn agreed. He wanted Tamara but for the time being she was out of his reach. Such—he thought—would not always be the case and Lilabet was in the sixth decade of her life and might not live that many more years.

  From out of nowhere, an intricately carved dagger appeared, its double-edged blade thick with ancient runic lettering. The black jade handle was encrusted with blood-red rubies. Kaibyn removed his arm from beneath Lilabet’s head and sat up. Without a word, he drew the sharp edge of the blade across the flesh of his left forearm. He took Lilabet’s left palm in his hand and held it under his arm.

  “I pledge in my own blood,” he said, allowing a few drops to drip into her palm. “I will be yours until the end of your days.”

  “Keeping only unto me,” the queen wanted clarified.

  Kaibyn winced. “Keeping only unto you until the end of your days.”

  “Forsaking all others.”

  “Aye,” he sighed. “Forsaking all others until the end of your days.”

  Seemingly satisfied with the blood oath, Lilabet used her bloody hand to reach up for her lover’s head. She brought his mouth down to hers to seal their bargain.

  Vanquishing the ceremonial dagger in his grip, Kaibyn put his energy into the kiss. He slipped his tongue between the queen’s lips and probed deeply. He claimed her breast, kneading the fullness beneath the thin shift. The pad of his thumb flicked over the swollen nipple and worked it to a hard little nub then scraped the tender flesh with his thumbnail.

  Lilabet groaned as her lover bit her lower lip lightly. His hot tongue slid over her upper lip before delving quickly into her mouth then away.

  “Kaibyn!” she protested, but before she could bid him continue kissing her, his mouth dragged down her neck and that wicked tongue of his stabbed at the hollow of her throat. She threaded her fingers through his thick hair and held his mouth to her neck, reveling in the feel of his tongue’s wet heat.

  Kaibyn was an expert in the seduction of women. He knew every nuance of lovemaking and spent hours on foreplay that would elevate a female from total disinterest in the sexual act to complete, unbridled abandon. His mouth, his hands, the mighty tool between his legs had been trained to give ultimate pleasure. He wielded that power like any artist and set about to bring Lilabet to the heights of uncontrollable pleasure.

  The queen did not protest when her shift was ripped from her aching body. Already a thin sheen of moisture clung to her flesh and her love nest was slick. She hated how her distended belly must look and crossed her arms over it.

  “Nay, Sweeting,” Kaibyn whispered. “Every inch of you is as lovely as a spring morn.” He lowered his head and placed a light kiss on the protrusion of her navel, circling it with his tongue.

  The demon had made love to many pregnant women over the years, and he had taken superb care to see they were thoroughly satiated when he was through. His hands would be infinitely gentle, his mouth hotly effective. Through no fault of his would he ever leave a lady wanting.

  Sliding his hand down Lilabet’s quivering thigh, he rested the palm gently against the core of her. He smiled, capturing her eyes with his and he tenderly rubbed the dampness.

  “I crave you, Kaibyn,” the queen said in a husky voice.

  “And I will not leave you in need, milady.”

  He pulled his hand upward until the tip of his middle finger touched the pearl of her love mound. Lightly he stroked the dewy pebble with long upward pulls that went from the base of her opening to the hood, easing back that tiny wrinkle of flesh in order to heighten the sensation.

  Lilabet reached above her and took hold of the brass swirls of the headboard. She bit her lip, closing her eyes to the exquisite feelings flooding her lower belly. She squirmed on the bed and at his nudging, opened her thighs a little more.

  “So lovely,” he said as he moved lower on the bed until his cheek was pressed against the curve of her hip. “Such an exciting aroma coming from your sex.”

  The queen felt a tremor go through her and her womb tightened at his words. She could feel her vagina oozing love juice and wished her lover would taste her.

  Intercepting the thought, Kaibyn dipped his finger gently into her slit and swirled it ever so softly inside her, smiling as Lilabet arched her hips upward. Looking up at her, once more holding her gaze, he removed his finger and placed it in his mouth, sucking the slick fluid from his flesh. He drew on the digit then took it from his mouth and held it under his nose. He inhaled deeply.

  “So sweet,” he told her. “So sweet and so delicious.”

  Lilabet groaned and writhed.

  “Let me pleasure you, milady,” the demon whispered.

  He cupped her sex once more then slid his middle finger inside her. His lips, he placed upon her clit and delicately suckled the little nub. Flicking his tongue across the swollen root, he moved his middle finger in and out of her slit very slowly.

  “Ah, Kaibyn!” Lilabet sighed. “You are a handsome devil, you are, but one who knows how to soothe a lady’s needs.”

  Kaibyn looked up. “You see me, don’t you, milady?”

  “Of course, I see you, Kai,” the queen said and wiggled, wanting his ministrations to continue. “Unfortunately, I am beginning to smell you again, as well.” She wrinkled her nose.

  “Just as Tamara sees both Rabin and me,” he muttered.

  “Why wouldn’t I see you, beloved?” his lady asked. She pushed his head down to her nether region and arched her pelvic upward to accommodate his wicked mouth.

  Forcing a portion of his mind to the task at hand, the demon’s thoughts were racing. How was it, he wondered, that Lilabet could see him yet he was sure the silly Karmaria had not? The lady-in-waiting had shrieked bloody murder when he had dropped her in the room next door, staring wildly about her, terrified of what she apparently could not see. As the woman stumbled about the room in a blind panic, he had been forced to bring Tamara to her to quiet the stupid chit.

  “Stop doing that!” Tamara had hissed, her lovely face a rather strange shade of green as she tried to acclimatize herself to the rapid transportation across time and space. “Rabin! Where is Rabin?”

  Thus the darkling, too, had been brought to Nonica.

  The muscles of Lilabet’s vagina rippled around Kaibyn’s finger and he held it still inside her as she climaxed. Her clit was a hard little pebble against his tongue as he laved it one last time, grimacing a bit as the queen’s fingers pulled at his hair.

  It was a known fact that Lilabet loved to talk after consummating the act and Kaibyn had no desire to do so. He slid up in the bed and put his hand over her eyes.

  “Sleep, milady,” he commanded and when he removed his hand, the queen had sunk deep into the arms of sleep—where she would remain until he bid her wake. He bent over and placed a light kiss on her cheek then scooted out of the bed.

  Tamara glanced up as the door to Karmaria’s room opened and she frowned. “Don’t you ever knock?”

  “Who came in?” Karmaria asked, her head swiveling from side to side. “I don’t see anyone.”

  “If she can’t see me, she can’t hear me, either,” Kaibyn grunted.

  “What is that vile odor?” Ka
rmaria asked, fanning the air.

  “It’s good that she can’t. You nearly scared this poor girl to an early grave when you flew her to this place.”

  “W-who are you talking to?” the lady-in-waiting asked. Her eyes were wide, her face as white as chalk. “I d-don’t see anyone!”

  Striding quickly to the bed, Kaibyn placed a hand over Karmaria’s face, wincing as her scream was cut off in mid-vibrato.

  “Sleep, bitch!” he hissed. “You have an annoying voice!”

  The lady-in-waiting slumped against the pillow, sound asleep.

  “Well, she might not see or hear you but she can obviously feel your touch and smell you,” Tamara said.

  “All women can feel my touch, wench.” Kaibyn bragged, ignoring her other comment.

  Tamara rolled her eyes. “Is the queen asleep, too?”

  “I thought it best until I can get this settled.”

  “Get what settled?”

  Kaibyn put his hands on his hips and stared at her. “How is it Lilabet can see me?”

  Tamara frowned. “How would I know?”

  “Is she turned that she can see me?”

  “Does she appear turned?”

  Kaibyn shook his head. “Nay and there are no marks on her that I could see. I don’t believe the vampires got to her.” He nodded at the sleeping lady-in-waiting. “Did you find marks on that one?”

  “She hasn’t been touched. That was the first thing I checked once I got over my dizziness. Thank the Prophetess it didn’t take too long this time.”

  “The more often you travel in that fashion, the easier it will become until you will no longer feel the dizziness,” Kaibyn told her.

  Tamara narrowed her eyes. “I have no intention of traveling like that again, Kaibyn!”

  Kaibyn waved a dismissive hand. “That is of no import right now. My concern is with Lilabet being able to see me.”

  “What was it Riel said about Tamara being able to see us?” Rabin asked.

  Tamara and Kaibyn turned to find the dark man leaning nonchalantly against the doorjamb.

  “He said he could see you, too,” Tamara answered.

  “He also said he thought the Magi had a hand is this,” Kaibyn added. “I think he might be right because I think we will need Lilabet’s help if we are to put things to rights in Kebul.”

  “And wherever else my sisters have ventured,” Tamara put in. She turned her gaze to Rabin. “Are you concerned about this ability for some to see us, Rabin?”

  Rabin ducked his head. “Do you think my lady will be able to see me?” When his companion’s did not answer, he lifted his head.

  Tamara went to the dark man and laid a hand on his arm. “Your lady-wife believes you dead, Rabin.”

  “I am.” Rabin sighed deeply. “And shall remain so.”

  “So?” Kaibyn asked.

  “Perhaps he should go to her and see whether she can see him or not,” Kaibyn suggested.

  “What if she can’t?” Rabin asked quietly.

  “What if she can?” Kaibyn countered. “How will it affect her? You must think of that.”

  Rabin flinched. “Aye, I have thought of that but I love my woman. I miss her.”

  “Loneliness is a terrible thing,” Kaibyn commented, rolling his eyes.

  “Spoken by a being who knows nothing of such things,” Rabin snapped.

  Kaibyn raised his chin. “Oh, but I know more about it than you will ever know, darkling. Try spending time in the darkness of the Abyss then make such a comment!”

  Tamara moved between the two men to defuse any possible trouble. “Perhaps you should go to your lady, Rabin. At least it would ease your mind.”

  “Or make the situation worse, but what do I know?” Kaibyn said.

  Without another word, the demon and Rabin disappeared, and Tamara let out a shriek of frustration. Such goings and comings were disconcerting. She stomped her foot, her hands balled into fists at her side.

  “Stop doing that!” she shouted.

  * * * * *

  Rabin’s head was swimming but he managed not to stagger. The last thing he wanted to do was reach out for the demon’s aid so stood perfectly still, legs braced wide apart, his head slightly lowered, eyes squeezed tightly shut.

  “What is her name?” Kaibyn asked as he looked about the village.

  “I do not like traveling in that manner,” Rabin mumbled. “I beg you do not do that to me again without first asking.”

  “You are Dabiyan, are you not?” the demon asked, ignoring the dark man’s request.

  “Aye,” Rabin whispered and took a tentative step. His head reeled and he froze, swallowing the nausea that threatened to erupt.

  “You bury your women at first light, don’t you?”

  Rabin’s eyes opened of their own accord and he looked out over a gathering standing beside an open grave. The light of morning was but a few ticks of the clock away and as he watched, the rush door to his hut opened and his sons came out ahead of four men carrying a securely wrapped bundle resting on a long flat board.

  “No,” Rabin groaned. He would have stepped forward despite the roiling of his belly and the jerky motion of his vision, but the demon put out a restraining hand.

  “She is lost to you, darkling,” Kaibyn said. “Unless we can find the Magi.”

  “Momisha,” Rabin whimpered. Tears were cascading down his cheeks.

  “In order to rise, she must first go under the dirt,” Kaibyn told the dark man. “While she is resting, let us go find those Magi and see what can be done.”

  Rabin had no chance to reply to the demon’s suggestion before he found himself once more hurling through space, the desert dunes and mountains speeding by beneath his dangling feet. Once more he closed his eyes, and when he felt himself once more on solid ground, forced one eye open.

  “Mage!” Kaibyn shouted, letting go of Rabin’s arm. He strode through the dark corridors of the place where they had materialized, peeking into every room. “Magi!”

  Master Jabali grunted as the door to his room was flung open. He put up an arm to shield his eyes from the glare of the torch that burned beside the entry. He smelt the demon before he actually heard him stomp into the room.

  “The darkling wants his woman resurrected.”

  Jabali nodded. “And he shall have his wish, Lord Kaibyn, but could it not have wanted until these old bones were ready to wake?”

  “Do we have such time, Mage?” Kaibyn groused.

  The Master’s assistant, Tashobi, appeared at the door for his room was across from Jabali’s. He grimaced at the musky odor clinging to the demon but said nothing as he skirted their visitor and went to help Jabali out of bed.

  “I am infirm, Lord Kaibyn,” Jabali said as he took hold of Tashobi’s arm and levered himself to his feet. “Such is the burden of the last decade of one’s life.”

  Kaibyn grunted but made no comment. He stood there with his arms folded over his chest as the younger man helped the older to dress. He barely cast a look at Rabin as the dark man joined them.

  “Can they help?” Rabin asked.

  “We will return your lady to you, my friend,” Jabali answered. “But it will be a day or two. First we must see to the evil that even now heads for a second village.”

  “Kebul is under Hag control,” Kaibyn said. “Which village is next?”

  “They head for the stronger of the citadels,” Jabali replied. “They go now to the Panther’s den.”

  “Evann-Sin is there already,” Rabin remarked.

  “It is good he is,” Jabali acknowledged. “Take the Lady Tamara and join him. Set the defenses on guard before Oded’s warriors and Lilit’s daughters arrive.”

  Kaibyn turned, reaching for Rabin’s arm although the dark man flinched and would have pulled away instinctively.

  “Let him go on his own power, Lord Kaibyn,” Jabali advised. “It will be easier on him.”

  “I can do this?” Rabin asked, his eyes wide.

  “Will
it and it will be so, my friend,” Jabali replied. “Think of your destination and…” He stopped then cocked his head to one side. “How did you know where we were, Lord Kaibyn, to find us?”

  Kaibyn snorted. “I smelled you, Mage.”

  “Much as we smell you,” Tashobi suggested

  “Aye, and that is not good,” Jabali said. “If we can smell you, the Hell Hags will smell you, as well, and head for another citadel. They will take the harder ones first, the easier last.”

  “I can not help…” Kaibyn began but cut himself off as the older man handed him a vial. “What is this?”

  “It will stop the odor, milord,” Jabali replied.

  “For good? There will be no more scent of muskiness.”

  “Actually, it is not muskiness,” Jabali commented.

  “Then what?”

  “It is the scent of death, Lord Kaibyn. You must remember you are many thousands of years old. When you were buried in the tomb, your flesh became corrupted. But have no fear, the oil will erase the odor.”

  Kaibyn’s frown would have frightened lesser men. He uncorked the vial, brought it to his nose and sniffed. A pained look spread over his handsome features. “It smells like lilies,” he complained.

  “The flower of resurrection,” Jabali informed him.

  Drawing in a long, annoyed breath, Kaibyn poured the oil in his left hand then rubbed his palms together then applied the slick substance to his cheeks.

  “There,” Tashobi ventured. “The smell is gone!”

  Kaibyn looked to Rabin and when the dark man nodded in agreement of the Mage’s pronouncement, the demon smiled. “I was worried about the stench,” he confessed. “My ladies would not find it palatable.”

  Jabali shook his head.

  “What?” Kaibyn demanded.

  The Mage spread his hands. “There will be only one lady for you from now until her death, milord, and that will be the queen. Only she will be able to see you.”

  “Tamara sees me!” Kaibyn disagreed.

  “True, but only because I willed it,” Jabali told him.

  “And the Lady Tamara belongs to Riel Evann-Sin,” Rabin was quick to point out.

  Kaibyn growled at the reminder, his eyes flashing. “It is not in my nature to be true to one woman!”