Firebinders: Marek (The Firebinders Book 1)

by Isobelle Cate

  What Marek couldn’t understand was why Highmore seemed hell bent on killing Gwen. Whatever conclusions she had were next to useless without the blood sample. Gwen also didn’t know that a firebinder had to be present to remove the disease. But that was not what was foremost on his mind that very minute. It was his fear that history was repeating itself. The people he loved and cared for were being threatened once more. Lia. Rogue.

  Gwen.

  His eyes shut tightly, despair threatening to drown him. Shit, when had he begun to start caring again?

  When had he allowed the seed of falling in love to germinate?

  “The Cynn Cruors are at your disposal, Marek.” Zac entered the dining room. “The Dux of the New Orleans Faesten has agreed to deploy some of his mortals here to beef up security.”

  “Don’t forget to get security for Faith.”

  Zac’s mouth curved. “That goes without saying. The house we’re staying at may look open and welcoming but anyone who tries to enter without an invitation already has a bullseye in the middle of his head. He still insists on entering? He’ll join the ranks of the headless horsemen.”

  “Thank you, I appreciate the help.” Marek shook Zac’s hand. “Rogue, can you talk to Gwen?”

  “Here we go again…” Rogue’s brow lifted a fraction. “Why me?”

  “Because she’ll talk to you more than me.”

  “I’ll be in my room if anyone needs me.”

  They turned to see a Lia by the corridor, her face weary before taking the stairs two steps at a time.

  “May I say something?” Faith’s brow creased. “Why ask Rogue to speak to her when all she wants is you?”

  “You don’t know what you’re saying,” Marek muttered then held his hands up when Zac scowled. “Are you going to punch me just because I disagree with what Faith says?”

  “Zac, stand down.” Faith eyes flashed at her mate. She transferred her glare at Marek. “Explain.”

  “I can’t get through to her.” Marek sighed assailed by a rare bout of insecurity.

  “That’s because you’re not trying hard enough, man.” Rogue smacked his arm with a grin.

  Faith huffed, her arms crossed over her chest. “You’re not trying at all. You leave her in your house to do something else—”

  Marek clenched his jaw. “I was looking for clues to find you.”

  Faith gawked for a second. “You gave her your protection, Firebinder, then you left her. Your word is your oath.” She pointed at him and Rogue before letting out a breath. “She’s afraid, Marek. She didn’t expect to stay longer here in America. She just wanted to get away from whoever wanted to hurt her. I believe that Gwen met you for a reason. I believe that meeting you made her realize that you were what she was looking for. The question now is…if she is who you need?”

  Marek stared down at his hands exploring their lines and ridges, his calluses that were part and parcel of his job.

  “That’s settled then.” Rogue winked. “I’ll check on Lia.”

  Man up, Bannach!

  Zac and Faith decided to leave after. No work was going to be done that day in deference to the deaths of Gwen’s friends. Marek approached her door. He knocked before entering. Gwen was still in the position he’d seen her earlier. He closed the door softly and sat down on the chair beside her bed. A tendril of her hair had fallen over her face and on instinct Marek pushed it behind her ear as though it was the most natural thing to do. Her soft mouth which he had kissed and drank from several times was relaxed in sleep. Her straight but thick lashes covered the green depths Marek wanted to see and drown in. Her nostrils gently flared as her body took in the cool air of the room, giving out carbon dioxide needed by the corner plant located by the window. It was a symbiotic relationship between woman and nature that gave a part of themselves so that they could live. She still frowned in sleep as though she couldn’t get away from the nightmare that had just landed in her lap when she was awake.

  But he was there, he wanted to tell her. He was there to slay her nightmares, there to make sure she was safe, if she would have him. He wanted to tell Gwen that he was there for the long haul, for a long time.

  For eternity.

  Because he had just realized what his mother had told him all those years ago—that when he found the woman who’d exasperate him yet he’d forgive, whom he couldn’t wait to see even if she was just in the next room, and whose mere presence lightened his soul because she was the other half of it, he’d know. That would be the woman the universe decreed was meant for him.

  And he was looking at her sleeping in the guest bedroom when her rightful place was in his bed, by his side, and in his life.

  There was another truth he finally admitted to himself.

  He was afraid of losing Gwen.

  Gwen felt the softest flutter of butterfly wings on her cheek. She lay on a meadow of wildflowers some of which she had no name for. Overhead were dark clouds of an impending storm but she was not afraid. It was such a contrast. Angry and thunderous above. Peaceful and tranquil below. She knew the rains were coming yet she continued to lie on the ground as the green grass gave her warmth. She knew she was in a dream within a dream.

  Her attention returned to the butterfly and she gasped in surprise when the tiny insect was able to carry the weight of her hair to tuck it back behind her ear. The fluttering brush of wings became more solid, warm. Skin against skin that brought her back to the land of the living, the meadow fading from view, and the awareness and emotional impact that only one person ever had on her.

  Marek.

  She opened her eyes and her heart beat anew even as it pressed hard inside her ribs. He looked tired, his face harsher in shadow and light. His hair was ruffled as if not only his fingers had played with it but some strong wind before the onslaught of rain. And his eyes. God help her! His eyes flickered with anguish, almost despair. Her breath caught in her throat. They were dull blue almost slate, the green almost like the waters of an unchlorinated pool.

  “Hey.” Marek managed a smile, his knuckles brushing her cheek.

  Gwen blinked away the moisture in her eyes, closing them to appreciate this brief moment of contact. Right now, she’d take anything he gave. A touch, his speech so that she could hear him once more and not just the monosyllabic and stilted conversations they had. His nearness even if he set himself apart from her. She was a pragmatist. Just because he’d had a piece of her as she had him didn’t mean that they had a relationship. That was just lust. Her feelings, just intense attraction. But the pain and intense longing…

  Her truth.

  She wanted to commit all of what he gave to memory so that when she left she could magnify them to huge proportions. She’d wrap them around her as though the memories were Marek’s arms, embracing her during the days and nights when she felt utterly alone.

  “Hi.” Her lips parted. Despite her musings, she couldn’t look at him. Instead she gazed out the window overlooking the courtyard. Outside, the sun was setting, the tops of the branches and trees in the courtyard becoming its artificial horizon. Twilight had always been her favourite time when the day ended and reality began. Above the tropical ferns and few blooming branches of bougainvillea, Gwen could see the sections of Spanish Moss still bedecked with tiny fairy lights. Somewhere, someone was playing the trumpet, a lonely strain of Jazz she associated with Satchmo. Marek didn’t ask her what happened, didn’t find out what had gone wrong. For that Gwen was grateful because she was not really sure what to say.

  She took his hand in hers and looked at him as she placed both their hands in the crook of her neck and chin. Her lips curved ever so slightly at his relief.

  “Lie down with me?” she asked softly. She was such a masochist knowing full well if he rejected her, her heart would no longer be able to take the strain.

  But Marek stood and sat on the edge of the bed and waited for her to inch towards the centre before he lay down. Gwen couldn’t stop the smile that shadowed her mouth in
relief. The bed spread rustled under their bodies as they made themselves comfortable. He opened his right arm and she gratefully scooted into him, laying her head on his chest, her arm going around his body before her palm decided to land over his sternum. She inhaled him into her lungs and found the comfort she craved for in his scent. She snorted softly and felt rather than saw Marek look down at her. She closed her eyes sighing in pleasure as his hand ran up and down her back. They were quiet for a long time until the room darkened and they were the only people left in the world.

  “My friend died yesterday,” she said out of the blue. “His name was Ken. He had a wife and a baby girl.”

  Marek continued to stroke her and the tension of the day leeched out of her.

  “That early morning when I left the lab, he was on his way home. I even told him that his baby was missing him already. He said that as long as he was there when she awoke that was fine. Now he’s gone.” Her voice broke. Marek tightened his arm around her.

  “Digna died too,” he stated matter-of-factly, his voice rumbling beneath her ear.

  Her head moved in assent. “I may not like what she did, but I wouldn’t wish her dead either. She didn’t deserve to die that way.”

  Marek’s chest expanded and deflated as he spoke, “Gwen, we think you might be next.” He stroked her back when she tensed before she relaxed. “The more Rogue, Hank, and I talked about Highmore and why he was having tests done to the blood, the more we believe he’s the Shadow or works for him. Her. It. I don’t fucking know.”

  “The Shadow?”

  “Someone who has been killing firebinders through the centuries. Since the fall of the Roman Empire.” He explained. “But we don’t live that long.”

  “Could it be a group or an organization?” Gwen asked. “I don’t know of any group that’s lasted that long.”

  His eyes crinkled with humour. “Oh there are. They’re just very well hidden.”

  “Just like you,” she said, her mouth lifting.

  “We’re not an organisation. We’re a race that’s becoming extinct. If Highmore is working for the Shadow, then he’s dangerous.”

  “Which is why I need to leave.” It was so difficult to say those words to the only man who was beginning to mean more to her than her research.

  Marek expelled a breath. The bedspread rustled once more. “Who will protect you if you go?”

  “I’ll lie low for a while.” She shrugged focusing on the hard column of his throat. “My grandparents have a house in Oban, in Scotland which they left to me.”

  “And then?” Marek’s voice was gentle but questioning. “Do you have family?”

  “My dad. He lives in the Lake District.”

  “And how long do you think it will take before Sebastian Highmore contacts your dad to ask about you? Have you spoken to him since you left Austin?”

  “Just an email using my burn phone which I threw away as well. I told Dad I might not be able to call at Christmas or New Year.” She rolled away and lay flat on her back. She stared at the shadowed ceiling.

  “He must be worried by now.” Marek followed rolling to his side and propping his head on his palm.

  “Dad knows I can take care of myself. Afghanistan was worse than this.”

  A short silence ensued between them while they looked at each other. Marek sighed as he traced a finger across her jaw.

  “Gwen, I’m not saying you can’t take of yourself.”

  She looked at him, trying to fathom what lay behind those beautiful glittering eyes. The warmth and scent of him stirred a need inside her to feel his touch once more. Marek’s breath was close, a sensual caress against her face. Her chest rose and fell slowly, belying the rapid beating of her heart. All the while her longing intensified.

  “Then why can’t you let me go?”

  “Because besides everything happening around us, I’m afraid that if I let you go, I’ll lose you.” He rubbed her bottom lip. “I can’t stop this, Gwen. Like I said before I’ve tried but I can’t.”

  She couldn’t hear herself think through the languid but strong pulse of her heart.

  “I want you. Was what happened in the plane not enough to show that I do? Or what happened between us just a few nights ago?” he murmured. “I don’t want you any more just for a night. I want you for more than a night, two nights. A week. A month. I want you tonight when the house is quiet when it seems that there’s nobody else in the world. I want you tomorrow when dawn breaks and the sun rises when I can help you touch the sun. I want you the next day and the next. The next month and the next.” He paused, cupping his hand around the back of her neck sending her own fire heating her veins. “And maybe…just maybe you might want to be with me after a year…and the next.”

  Joy wanted to break through the barrier she had started to build around her heart. Rationality refused to let it in.

  “What are you saying, Marek?” She searched his face. Her heart dancing with hope was slowly closing the door to stark reason.

  He bent down and put a chaste kiss on her mouth.

  “I’m saying stay with me,” he whispered against her lips before sucking and licking her bottom lip that sent a pulse down to her sex. “Stay with me.”

  He covered her mouth with a probing kiss that gauged the simmering heat inside her. She angled her mouth upward when he pulled up, not wanting to lose the connection. He groaned and his restraint broke and he covered her body with his.

  They did not rush. It was not the frenzied way that marked their heavy petting or the desperation that seemed to permeate their every touch. They gave themselves the time to explore, to touch, to feel every kiss to their very souls. Marek kisses were as gentle as they were passionate, stoking the flames inside her once more, making her pliant to his every command. Tears dropped down the sides of her face and Marek brushed them with his thumbs.

  “Don’t cry, Gwen,” he implored softly. “I’ll take care of you tonight.”

  Marek knelt on the bed and helped her take off her shirt and jeans leaving her in her cotton underwear. Gwen’s mouth watered when he took off his shirt, allowing her an unimpeded view of the contours of skin covering his muscled body. She couldn’t stop herself. Rising to a kneeling position, she ran her palms over his body loving the feel of his skin and the light dusting of hair on his chest and the line that cut across the ‘V’ of his hips. She smiled at the way Marek quivered under her touch. She kissed his chest, taking swipes with her tongue and leaving open mouth kisses over the dips and planes of his abs, before trailing her tongue upwards to lick and suck his nipple.

  “Ahh…Gwen,” he groaned, his hands tangling in her hair. He yanked her up and raided her mouth once more. Heated breaths mingling, her hands moved to his waist, feeling his need jerking against her belly. Marek let his hands roam over her body before unclasping her bra to free her breasts. He cupped and squeezed them, ending the kiss so he could capture one turgid point into his mouth.

  “Oh…” Her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Her sex was hot and wet and every flick of Marek’s tongue made her wetter, reminding her of how good his mouth had felt between her legs.

  “You smell delicious. I need to get my tongue back inside your pussy.” He inhaled deeply. He held her and slowly lay her down on the bed. As he did, he kept taking one tit at a time, sucking them until she was squirming with hunger.

  “Marek.” She gasped. She had become a bundle of lust, her skin alight with Marek’s every callused touch. He raised up to kiss her once more, licking the seam of her lips then she whimpered when she felt his finger stroke her slit through her wet panties, focusing on her aroused clit, rubbing her towards a raging need. “Please.”

  He snuck his hand inside the waistband of her panties and her hips bucked when her pussy met his finger.

  “So fucking wet,” he groaned before returning his attention to her breasts.

  Gwen was inside a maelstrom of desire and all she could do was hold on to the bed covers, then holding his
head against her body as Marek grazed his mouth against her tits and his finger against her mound. Her body arched even as her hips rose up to meet his finger’s sweet invasion of her wet hole. She raised her head, getting even more turned on at the sight of Marek’s mouth on her breast and his hand on her sex. In and out he went while he continued to rub her clit with his thumb. Her panties were stark white against the soft glow of the light and not being able to see exactly how and what Marek’s fingers were doing heightened her senses. Her breath hitched when she felt another finger enter her, stretching her, making her gasp when they went in deeper. She was revelled in the pleasure of the sensations flooding her. Then it was gone making her whine in disappointment. The bed depressed as Marek knelt to remove her soaking panties before his fingers continued his onslaught and she was catapulted back into ecstasy. Gwen bent her legs and widened them. She kept her eyes on him while he plundered her pussy with his fingers. Marek had an almost feral look of lust that made Gwen wish he treated her bad and hard. Then his other hand joined his play, another set of fingers rubbing her clit while the ones inside her started to flick.

  “Marek…oh God…” Her body was awash with pleasure and she cried out when his tongue joined in pleasuring her. She didn’t know when he had moved between her legs but her pussy was being pampered with fingers inside her and Marek’s mouth on her. Her hips moved and rubbed her pussy against his mouth, against his hand, her lust driving her hard, and she wanted it rough. And as though he heard her thoughts, Marek took out his fingers and devoured her pussy like a man starved. Gwen whimpered giving into her enjoyment while she ran her fingers through his hair, grapple with the sheets, or grasp the pillow beneath her head.