Prince of Fire: Black Phoenix, Book 1

by Tawny Taylor

  “Yes, Keri.”

  “I need you to take control. I need to surrender.”

  “Yes, Keri.” He pushed her knees back and entered her swiftly, his cock gliding home. In. Out. His thrusts were just right. The rhythm she needed. Neither too hard nor too soft.

  In short order, she was soaring again, sensations blending into an intoxicating, magical blur. She became lost in it, drowning in carnal pleasure.

  “Now, surrender. Come.” He flicked a fingertip over her sensitive clit and colors burst behind her closed eyelids. A tingling, electrical charge buzzed up to her scalp and down to the soles of her feet. And then whoosh, her body spasmed. It was the kind of orgasm that left her breathless, quivering, clinging to Talen’s sweat-slicked body.

  What this man did to her.

  For her.

  ***

  Keri woke up alone. Sore, in a good way. Starving. And rumpled. Sitting up, she noticed the piece of paper sitting on the nightstand.

  He had the most unusual handwriting. Difficult to read, slanted, with crisp strokes and little flourishes on the capital letters that made her think of old handwritten documents like the Declaration of Independence.

  My Angel,

  Went for food. Be back as soon as I can. Love, Talen.

  Love.

  A dorky smile plastered on her face, she hurried to the bathroom to get cleaned up. The long, hot shower felt great, water pounding on achy muscles, the fragrance of lavender filling the steamy room. She came out a little while later, hair and makeup done, ready to face whatever the day might bring.

  Talen hadn’t returned yet.

  A little flare of worry crept up her spine, but she shoved it aside. Nobody was trying to kill him, she reasoned. They were after her. So, he was safe—safer away from her than with her.

  Gosh, this whole thing was overwhelming, when she took the time to really think about it. Yesterday, he had finally convinced her he was telling the truth. Still, it was hard to accept the truth, to fully comprehend what it meant.

  He died. Over and over again. He’d done so for thousands of years. Suffered one horrific, violent and painful death after another.

  She couldn’t imagine.

  This man. Talen. The guy who stroked her so sweetly and tormented her so thoroughly put himself in the proverbial line of fire over and over again. And for strangers, no less.

  He was a remarkable man. The sacrifice.

  When she tried to step into his shoes, she could imagine how lonely he had to be. Waking up in a strange place and then dying before he was able to make any friends, form any bonds with anyone.

  To suffer in such isolation. It was a wonder he wasn’t insane.

  If some sort of ancient beings were behind this, if it truly was a curse, they were beyond cruel to assign such a punishment to any human being. People needed other people. Some form of a connection. Friendship. Love. Whatever form it took. To deny anyone such a basic need was heartless.

  And from what she’d seen, Talen was the last man on earth who deserved such punishment.

  Pffft to those mean, merciless gods of his!

  She made a point of not speaking any of her thoughts aloud, hoping his gods couldn’t know her thoughts, like the God she’d always thought she believed in.

  She was ashamed to admit this experience had shaken her faith in God. One God. Many gods. Which could it be? Of course, she hadn’t attended church in a couple of years, her Bible was collecting dust and she hadn’t prayed in ages. Looking at it from an objective viewpoint, her faith hadn’t been all that strong, anyway.

  She still wondered what this meant, when it came to all those people who truly believed there was only one God. It couldn’t be both—Talen’s ancient gods couldn’t exist, if what she understood about the bible was true.

  Something deep to think about. But not now.

  She flopped onto the bed, staring at the small pile of personal items Talen had set on top of the dresser. Another look at that tiny painted portrait would be nice. She’d been absolutely blown away by the skill the artist had used in creating it. Such minute detail. Itty-bitty brushstrokes.

  Keri’s mother had been an artist, a remarkably talented one. Sadly, like many, her mother had also been a little touched, not quite right but not insane enough to warrant any medical intervention. Regardless, Keri had learned to appreciate art in its many forms.

  This form was fascinating.

  She plucked up the locket and stared at the portrait, marveling at the artist’s talent. So many times, she’d tried to paint. Some of her paintings were reasonably well done, at least to the average eye. But not to hers. They’d always lacked something.

  An idea slowly formed in her head.

  How many times had Talen received a gift? Birthday. Christmas, whatever. Wasn’t he deserving? How sad, that his life’s most precious possessions could fit in his pocket.

  A present. For a man who repeatedly gave the most precious gift of all.

  It wouldn’t be an oil painting, but it was something, a very special kind of present that only she could give.

  She found a notepad and pen on the desk. And with one goal in mind, she began to sketch.

  Chapter Eight

  Talen’s heart was in his throat, and it wasn’t because he was preparing himself to die again. He’d learned a long time ago to face death calmly. This was far more nerve-racking than death.

  He was about to do something he hadn’t done in so long he honestly couldn’t remember the last time. He was about to give Keri a present.

  It wasn’t so much that the gift was expensive. It was, but because his gods had determined that a lack of currency would threaten their goals, he had an inexhaustible source of money. Every morning, his pockets were full, no matter how much he spent the day before. Cash. In the local government’s currency. On hand whenever he needed.

  Instead, it was the intimacy of the act that made it so scary. And what a rejection would mean—utter destruction, truthfully. He felt sick, just imagining her shaking her head, refusing the present he’d struggled so long to select.

  His shopping spree had kept him away from her for a lot longer than he would have liked, but he’d known the whole time that her killer hadn’t yet located her. His neck was blessedly burn-free. Thus, the only risk he’d taken by being gone for so long was losing precious time with her.

  That was bad enough.

  Which was why he couldn’t stand on this side of the door any longer, even if he was so nervous he swore his knees were about to give. He slid the key card into the lock, pulled it out. The lock clicked and he opened the door.

  She was standing beside the bed, her hands hidden behind her back, a strained look on her face. “Talen.”

  “Keri? Is something wrong?” His heart lurched, and he slapped his hand over his neck, even though he didn’t feel any stinging there. He dumped the bag onto the bed and rushed to her, pulling her into his arms and crushing her body against his.

  Oh, how perfectly she fit there, in his embrace, her body conforming to his.

  Slipping her arms around his waist, she shook her head. “No, no. Nothing’s wrong. I was just…”

  He felt her tipping her head back, and he reluctantly loosened his hold to allow himself to meet her gaze.

  She said, “I…feel kind of stupid…I made you something.”

  “You did what?” The strangest sensation buzzed through his insides, warming him and making him feel electrified. His eyes started burning, and he realized what that sensation meant.

  True, profound joy. It had been so long, he’d forgotten what it felt like.

  He felt alive, so energized, he could leap into the air, conquer any hurdle, defeat any foe. A gift? His sweet Keri had wanted to give him a gift.

  She was watching him closely, her gaze marked with reluctance, confusion. “Are you angry?”

  “No, no. I’m simply…I don’t know what to say. No one has shown me any sort of kindness in such a long time. But you
…” He cupped her cheek, dragged his thumb over her plump lower lip. “Whatever the gods had in mind when they brought you to me, I’m afraid I don’t quite know how to react.”

  The corners of her mouth curled into a soft smile, and something sweet sparkled in her eyes. “Maybe you’d better wait to decide how to react until after you see what it is. Really, it’s not much. I mean, I couldn’t go anywhere, and I don’t have anything with me.”

  He nearly wept when she released him. He took her cue, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do, and let his arms fall to his sides.

  His body let him know what a foolish act that had been.

  But then she handed him a rolled-up piece of paper, tied with a ribbon. “Just promise me you won’t laugh.” She clapped her hands over her mouth when he took it from her.

  “I promise.” He tugged on the bow and unrolled the paper, and his breath caught in his throat.

  He had never seen such a remarkable likeness of himself, particularly in the eyes. It was so striking he couldn’t stop staring at it. “How? Where?”

  “I drew it.”

  Awestruck, he looked at the picture again. “But I didn’t sit for you.”

  “I drew it from memory, although I admit I used the miniature as a reference.”

  “And I wasn’t gone very long.”

  Her cheeks pinked. He liked that shade. He kissed one. Her skin was warm, and so soft.

  She shrugged. “I know I’m not Rembrandt or anything, but I’ve always liked to draw.”

  “You don’t give yourself enough credit. You clearly have a gift. Have you had any training?”

  “None. I quit taking art classes in high school.”

  He shook his head, still not sure what to say, do. His own gift for her was sitting in the bag, not forgotten. But still, he felt out of sorts. A simple thank-you seemed so inadequate, especially since he was the last man who deserved a gift from anyone, particularly such an amazing woman as Keri.

  There was one big problem. He sensed she was beginning to care about him. More than she should. More than he’d ever wanted her to. Which meant she was going to be hurt when he died.

  “Tell me you don’t hate it.” She sounded worried.

  “No! I don’t hate it. It’s amazing, and I’m touched that you thought to do such a thing. This means more than I could even try to explain. But you shouldn’t have.”

  “Why?”

  It was time to pull back, put some distance between them. This was his fault. He’d convinced himself this was what the gods had wanted. What a fool he’d been! Of course, the gods didn’t want him to get close to this woman or any other.

  The bottom line was he’d pushed her, dragging her into an intimacy she wasn’t ready for, and now that he had what he’d been wanting, the selfish bastard he was, he felt like hell. “I’m not the man you think I am, and I don’t deserve anything.”

  “No, please don’t say that.” She clapped her hand over his mouth. Tears gathered in her eyes, that shimmering wetness like acid, burning his insides. Shaking her head, she let her hand fall from his mouth. “You are a brave, thoughtful, amazing man. A better man than I’ve ever met.”

  “I’m a selfish ass and a fool.”

  “Fool? No.” She dragged her forefingers along her bottom lashes, sniffled.

  Damn, how he hated to see her cry. But better for her to weep now, when he could still hold her, give her some comfort, than later when she’d be alone.

  “I pushed and pushed for you to open up, thinking the gods had sent me to you for some reason. But in making you open up, I’ve made you vulnerable. And I can’t stand the thought that you’ll be hurt when I die.” A hot prick stung the back of his neck, and without thinking, he smacked his hand over the painful spot.

  Keri’s eyes widened.

  “Keri.”

  A wild expression he couldn’t name swept over her face. She stabbed an index finger at his neck. “He’s back? He found us.” She rushed to the door and snapped the bolt in place. “It’s too soon. Not yet, please not yet.” She stood on tiptoes, hands flattened against the door, checking the peephole.

  “Keri!” He rushed up behind her and roughly pulled her around to face him.

  “It’s not fair, Talen.” Tears weren’t just dripping from her eyes now, they were streaming, and he felt like a sword had been thrust in his gut and twisted. “I never wanted to let anyone get close to me. And now that I’ve opened up a little, the one person I took a chance with is going to die. Right in front of my eyes.” She jerked away from him, pounded her fists against his chest. “Fuckfuckfuck! It’s so fucking unfair.” Her fury building before his eyes, she swung back and slapped him on the upper arm.

  The sting felt good. Right. He deserved that strike and so many more.

  She threw her hand back to deliver a second blow, and he did nothing to stop her. After all, she was right, and he’d been wrong, terribly wrong for asking her for the intimacy she’d given him. It was like he’d become addicted. To her. No, to the feeling of being close to her. He’d let his addiction take over. Stopped thinking.

  Again, it was no wonder he was cursed. After all these years, decades, centuries, he was still thinking only of himself.

  He reached for the door. “I’ll end this right now. That way you won’t hurt anymore.”

  “No.” She knocked his arm aside. “Don’t you get it? I will hurt. I’ll hurt as much now as I would three hours from now. Three days. Three weeks. It’s too late, Talen. I thought it was impossible to fall in love with a stranger, but that’s exactly what I’m doing. I’m fucking falling in love with you.”

  Her words hurt him more than a blade through the chest, a bullet through the skull, being crushed beneath a bus. “No.”

  She pounded on his chest again, fingers curled into tight fists, each blow punctuating three words. “Yes. I. Am!”

  He caught her wrists as they sailed toward his body for a fourth. “Keri. Listen to me.” He waited until her gaze met his before continuing. “You are not falling in love with me. You can’t. For one thing, I don’t deserve your love. I don’t deserve anyone’s love.”

  “What makes you so sure of that?”

  “Because I know myself a whole helluva lot better than you know me.”

  They stood silent for several agonizing moments, the air around them so charged up with electricity, it was superheated, thick and heavy.

  “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.” Her eyes were so full of pain, he nearly dropped to his knees.

  “Maybe it’s because of the fear,” he reasoned. “People who face tragedy tend to develop unnatural bonds with each other. I should have thought of that…” He pulled her to him, wrapped his arms around her slender form and held her tightly. She trembled as she nestled close, tucking her head beneath his chin and breathing so heavily he could hear every inhalation and exhalation. “Forgive me, Keri. I’m so fucking selfish.” Again, he found himself rubbing at the stinging skin at his nape.

  She pushed away from him, staggering backward. “We have to leave.”

  “No, it’s time to say goodbye. I can’t stand—”

  “No!” She whirled around and ran into the bathroom and slammed the door.

  Determined to help her somehow face the inevitable, he raced after her, halting outside the bathroom door. “Keri, I was wrong to get this close to you, and an idiot for convincing myself that this was the gods’ divine plan for you.”

  “We have to leave.” The door flew open. Inside the bathroom, Keri rushed around, scooping up her personal possessions and cramming them into her overnight bag.

  She wasn’t listening.

  Once she had her belongings gathered, she jerked the bag’s strap over her shoulder and charged toward him, her gaze focused on his face.

  He stopped her, wrapped his fingers around both her upper arms. “Keri, we can’t keep running. And it’ll be better facing this now than later, when the pain will be even greater.”

/>   “No, Talen. You were right. Those fucking gods of yours are asses, and we need to defy them as many times as it takes. I’m giving you a gift. Don’t you see that? Over and above the drawing, I’m giving you something much more valuable—hope, happiness, my heart.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t accept your gifts.”

  “Yes you can. You have to.” Teeth gritted, eyes red, she shoved his chest. “You can’t just let it happen. Fight, dammit! If you won’t fight for yourself, fight for me.”

  He released her, lurched backward.

  “Maybe that’s why you’ve never broken the curse. Have you thought about that? Could it be because you’ve never had the guts to tell those fucking bastards that you’ve had enough?”

  Damn, he felt like his insides had been beaten beneath the hooves of a dozen horses. He wanted to apologize again, but he knew his words would fall on deaf ears. Keri was too lost in panic to hear anything he would say.

  The burning at his nape intensified. Time was short. He swung around.

  She was jamming her clothing into the bag as if her life was in jeopardy. “Come on, Talen. We’ve ditched him twice already, we can do it again.”

  “Maybe. But sooner or later we will run out of time. He will catch us. The gods will make sure of it. They will lead him to us.” Inside, he screamed, cursed, cussed, fumed. Outside, he sighed, gathered the few belongings he had brought with him, swept up Keri’s drawing, tucked it into the bag of food he’d forgotten about, and followed her toward the door.

  He would not touch her again.

  He would not kiss her again.

  He would not permit himself any pleasure whatever.

  What he would do was prepare her for what had to occur.

  If the gods would permit him. And if—somehow—he was able to find the strength to deny his body what it demanded.

  Outside they ran, to the elevator. They rushed through the lobby and out into a bright, warm morning. Birds chirped. A soft breeze carried the scents of freshly mown grass and car exhaust to his nose. He glanced around, nervous, unsure if they’d get away this time.