She had denied her nature, and had suffered all her life because of it. How frightened she must have been of all things fey—either those on the outside or perhaps the magic within herself—to have allowed this to happen to herself and her kin.
Had she had valid reason to fear? Had she known that, if she let it in, magic would rule her and her children? That her will would be hijacked, and that there could be no escape once the road was taken?
Then another thought occurred to Nick: Had his mother rejected magic only after she’d seen her proposed mate? Had it shown her something, some union too awful to imagine?
And had she ever loved her human husband, or was he solely a means to escape her fey destiny? If the latter, why had she needed him to escape? Damn it—who would have been her intended mate?
Nick sighed. He would probably never know.
He thought about trying to say something reassuring to Zee, but his mind was blank, logical thought drowned out by endless questions and exhaustion. His brain had been asked to deal with too much in too short a time; it had no answers for her, good or bad. In fact, he couldn’t think of much except that he was tired and that Zee smelled fabulous. Her normal scent was a bewitching blend of candied orange and sweet chocolate, supported by a delicate musk. In the throes of passion that scent became heated and morphed into something darker. There was an odor of rich chocolate about her now, but also a strong, almost animal patchouli that enslaved him. Human pheromones had nothing on this perfume.
So, why not get closer? Have another whiff—a taste, even. You know you want to. She wants you to, too, an
outside voice urged, a voice that was not his ghost. The small hairs on Nick’s arms erected themselves, but he barely noticed.
It sounded like a wonderful idea. But did Zee really want that? That she-devil Lust clearly had her honeyed-tongue in his ear—and he was half-listening. Against his will, he still got her message loud and clear. But was this the right thing to feel?
Yes . . . take her. You want to.
For the first time, Nick realized that the desire inside him was a living thing, possibly sentient. And just as Jack had said, it would take possession of him if he let it. The thought was a bit frightening. It made him angry, too. His ghost was bad enough; he didn’t need anything else haunting him, trying to force its own agenda.
“Try to leave if you want. Let’s see what happens,” he said impulsively to Zee, though he could barely get the words out, his chest was so tight. He was suddenly aware that there was magic in the room with them, and it was hovering like an angel—a dark archangel—and like those of the Old Testament, it was on a mission. Not wanting to provoke its wrath, Nick opened his mouth to take his suggestion back, but it was too late.
“Fine.”
Zee spun around and took two steps toward the door, but she staggered. She managed a third and then a fourth step, but she could go no farther. She swayed back from the door as though buffeted by wind, though there was no evidence of an actual breeze.
“Goddess damn it!” she gasped, falling slowly to her knees.
Around them, the blue light grew deeper and lightning began to crackle at the edges of Nick’s vision. He didn’t need an explanation of Zee’s words. He felt it, too—the power—but it was not the usual fear; not dread, not holy terror. This angel came bearing lust. Nick also understood what Zee was feeling. There was a sense of betrayal—not by him, but by the shian itself; she had asked it for help and shelter and it had offered those things, but at a price it was exacting now.
That knowledge should have ended his feelings of desire, but it didn’t. Heat was pouring off his skin. Desire unlike anything Nick had ever felt was roaring through him, dilating some blood vessels and constricting others. Though his temperature had to be abnormally high, he could feel every muscle in his body contracting, everything in his lower body pulling tight. Parasympathetic neurons were firing, and the arteries dilating that delivered blood to his sex. Only, there was nothing erotic about this moment—except perhaps the sight of Zee on all fours, where she had fallen. But that should not arouse him, for this was clearly an inappropriate time to be brutishly animal.
Enraged, and saying what were probably bad words in what must be lutin, Zee tried crawling for the door. Nick’s arousal immediately got worse—or better. Certainly, it was more intense. Nick also dropped to his knees and began to crawl after her, and not to administer first aid. He couldn’t see his body, but he had a feeling that he looked more stalking wolf than human. He realized that something—probably the magic about which Jack had talked—had hijacked his body and was trying to blot out his mind. He realized, but he couldn’t stop it. This was a naked display of power by the ancient magic that lived in the shian, and he realized in an instant that it would not let them win.
The only thing that might end his agony was to stop fighting the impulse. To surrender and wait for terms. Surely they would be benign; the shian couldn’t want them hurt.
“Zee,” he called out, his voice rough. “Stop fighting. Stop or . . .” Or what? Would he really attack her? Could any amount of desire turn him into a rapist? Would the magic really push him that far? He feared it might. “Stop, Zee, or it will make you lose consciousness.”
Half-gasping and half-crying, she collapsed on the floor.
“It won’t let me go—it’s as bad as the goblins,” she sobbed, and then whipped around like a cobra to glare at Nick. He’d never seen such an expression of animal desire. Perspiration had beaded on her skin; her cheeks and lips were flushed a dark rose. He could see her nipples clearly through her sweat-dampened blouse. But there was anger, too— and now fear. “Stay back! I . . . I might hurt you. I want you, and I’m very strong. Sometimes lutins bite. Hard. They—we—like blood.”
Then her scent hit him—dark, passionate, the smell of Zee’s arousal. It was heady, made his exhaustion forgotten.
Please do hurt me, Nick thought. Draw blood— do anything you like. He felt wild and giddy but didn’t laugh aloud. She meant what she was saying. Left and right, her hands gripped the floor, but her fingers were curled like talons and her eyes glittered. This wasn’t a Zee he knew. His gentle lover was gone.
He crawled toward her anyway; she was irresistible.
“Tell me you really don’t want this,” he whispered.
“Of course I want this—I just don’t want to want it,” she snapped. He was close enough now that her breath stirred his hair. He could smell the scent of her roughly awakened desire that soaked her body.
“No word games, Zee. Tell me now if you want me to stop this. I have drugs in my bag. I can knock myself out.” Nick didn’t actually know if he could crawl all the way across the room, and his bag was in the opposite direction. In that moment, it sounded impossible.
“You would do that?” she asked, eyes widening. Some of her fear and anger abated.
“I don’t want to hurt you either, and I’m afraid I might if you keep fighting,” he told her truthfully. He could speak more easily; the feeling of desperate arousal was fading back—not entirely, but enough that he could formulate sentences. “I don’t know what my own powers are, how strong I might be.”
“Nick. I still . . . I still care about you.” She ran her tongue over her lips, and he followed it with his eyes. “I just don’t want this because it wants it. Our feelings should be real—not something some fey power invented. It’s doing this for a reason—I don’t know why exactly, but I don’t think it’s because it’s best for us.”
Nick did laugh, then. He glanced down at his body. His erection had all but torn through his clothing.
“This looks pretty much like the best damned thing for me.”
“But what if it isn’t?” Zee asked urgently. “What if you don’t really want me? What if this is all a magical trick and you regret it later?”
“We’ll have enjoyed ourselves anyway?” he suggested, trying for a bit of humor.
“Don’t you understand? I don’t want this
unless you care! I won’t let it do this to me! I’m tired of being used by those who don’t care about me!” Zee whipped about suddenly, and she threw her body at the threshold.
The insane lust was back in an instant; before Nick could countermand the instruction, his body leapt upon her, using his greater weight to carry her to the floor and pin her there.
The polished stone was hard but not rough or cold, and stunned by her own desire Zee lay panting upon it. She found it difficult to breathe with Nick’s weight upon her. His scent surrounded her in a muffling cloud that infiltrated her lungs, and the heat radiating from his body seemed to sear the flesh of her back—which she enjoyed.
She was captive. He could do anything he wanted to her, and she would probably let him. A part of her was enraged at the thought. But it was a small part, and one overwhelmed by the desire coursing through her bloodstream, a lust so strong that it made her want to scream and tear something apart.
For a long moment, Nick didn’t speak. Zee could feel him struggle to control his breathing. He eventually managed to calm his breath, but his erection against her buttocks never flagged.
It was wrong, not what she thought that she wanted, but this still thrilled her. Because he wanted her to the point of insanity; this she could sense. And because she remembered vividly the feel of his lips on her skin and the taste of his open mouth when he kissed her.
She had known many emotions in her life—grief, terror, rage and finally love—and only the last came close to the emotional power of what she was feeling at that moment.
Love? Was that what she was feeling right now? A kind of love?
She thought it was.
The idea wedged itself in her head, like a pry bar jammed into the gears of a clock. Love. Though her thoughts tried to progress, they could not because they were stopped by this thought, could not move beyond the point of impact.
Zee gulped in a couple of deep breaths, trying to clear her head.
She loved Nick. And just as her father had predicted, their magics had met and mated. That had happened before they’d come to the shian. The desire—the crazy lust she felt now—was something being pulled out of her, amplified and distorted, but it couldn’t be summoned if the feeling had not already been there.
Then Zee realized that somehow the two things— her love and this insane desire—had joined forces. Together, they’d crashed through her anger and resistance at being used by the magic for its own purpose. Lust alone wouldn’t have done it. If she hadn’t loved, she still would have been able to walk—or crawl—away. No magic, however strong, could stop her if she truly wanted to flee. Self-control was her shield and armor—her holy grail. With it, all things were possible.
But she wasn’t in control anymore. She loved, and so her destiny was no longer her own to decide.
Yes, she loved Nick. She wanted to make love to him again, even without magic. Fighting was stupid—it hurt both of them. And running away wouldn’t get her what she wanted, which was Nick’s love in return.
“Don’t do that again,” he finally managed to say. Then he added a typical, “Please?”
“Okay.” Zee forced herself to relax and then sighed. It was the sound of surrender and also a confession. Was he listening? Did he care? Should she speak out and tell him her revelation?
“Zee?” he asked softly.
She held up a finger and closed her eyes. Her body had said it. Her actions had said it. Her very breath said it—wasn’t it time to offer the words? I love you.
“Nick . . .” Zee hesitated. Was this the moment for such a confession? Would he think it was just the magic talking?
“Let’s just lay here a while,” he suggested, settling between her legs. “Maybe the feeling will go away.”
Zee heard herself moan as he pressed against her. She wanted him inside her. Maybe that would calm the insanity of feelings that had her weak and confused. She wanted Nick now. Fear was gone, and her desire was a fever. Her feelings for Nick made it unstoppable. She was already ravaged—why not be ravished? There would probably be consequences later, but why not let ecstasy have its way for now?
Instinctively, she pushed back, grinding against his erection. She was rewarded with pleasure coursing through her body.
“That isn’t helping,” he said through gritted teeth.
“It would,” she answered, “if you undressed.”
Nick’s breath caught and then he sighed with relief, apparently realizing that her resistance was truly gone.
“I don’t know why you’ve changed your mind, but I’m so glad you have,” was all he said, then he bit the nape of her neck.
“I’ll explain it all later,” she gasped, again finding it difficult to speak, this time for the shivers running through her body.
Nick lifted himself enough to undo his zipper, then shoved her skirt into the small of her back where it made a small pillow; Zee felt cool air rush over her legs and bottom. It was just one more caress, one more thing that made her moan. Then Nick returned, pressing his skin to hers, soft flesh to hard, penis to buttocks. Magic hummed between them, joyous and greedy. It urged them to completion.
His left arm curved under her, pulling her fully onto her knees and positioning her to his liking. Zee felt equal parts anticipation and vulnerability. She sensed that he was barely in control, and she suspected that he hadn’t had the crazy desire in him softened by any realization about his feeling for her—if in fact he had any such softer feelings. He was reacting as would an animal, barely controlled. And he was stronger than she.
His shaft pressed against the soft folds that protected her core. Zee could feel a low throbbing in her loins, and thought it must be the pulse of her heart. She wanted him inside her where he could ease her need—now! Before she died.
Nick’s hand slid lower, cupping her sex, easing a finger inside her. The base of it, his knuckle, found the small, delicate nub hidden in the soft folds that was already hardened with desire, and at the first touch she felt a small burst of sight-dimming pleasure. She felt her inner muscles clench.
“I am so glad that I paid attention in anatomy class,” Nick murmured with amusement.
Zee turned her head and bit his left biceps in passion. She had to stop herself from chomping down to the bone.
“Stop teasing,” she said through gritted teeth as she pulled her mouth away. “Please.”
“You’re not ready,” he said.
“I am.”
“You’re not—”
“I am, damn it! Nick, I mean it!” Zee thrust backward against him, and was pleased when he caught his breath.
“Have it your way.” And with a groan, Nick pulled her close and pressed into her.
Zee quickly discovered that he’d been right; she wasn’t entirely ready. She was damp, but Nick was thick, hard, hot and inexorable. This wasn’t like the first time. This penetration might leave her bruised. It might leave her insane if she wasn’t consumed by the fires building inside her.
He thrust farther forward. It hurt, but she loved it. He was in her to the hilt and could go no deeper. Her nerves felt a hundred spears of joy as he started to move. They felt the infiltration of her swollen flesh by a foreign body, felt the coarse hair of Nick’s thighs as it rubbed her aroused skin, felt his tightened scrotum pressing between her bare legs and touching the aroused nub of flesh he’d uncovered earlier. She could feel his ragged breathing, sense his hot breath as it stirred the hair on her nape. She felt it all and reveled.
Nick retreated and then retook lost ground, moving slowly but relentlessly. The internal stroking had her clenching muscles trying to hold him in place—trying to find just the right pace and position that would finally free her from the vise of desire that had her in its clutches and threatened to break her.
Sobbing, Zee reached down and pulled Nick’s hand tighter against her hip. His deep stroking went on for a few more thrusts, and then tiny sparks ignited behind her eyelids and her desire went supernova. She cried
out at the violent convulsion that shook her, barely aware of Nick’s own cry as his control shattered and he, too, flew into the sun.
They collapsed onto the floor, but the deep, hard paroxysms continued for another long moment, and Zee could feel the contractions that pulled the seed from Nick’s body and propelled it into her own. And thus the magic was appeased. This was what it had wanted. Zee was certain that she had just conceived a child. She would probably be terrified about that. Soon. For now, she was still too stunned by the storm.
“Zee?” Nick whispered, his voice yet rough but closer to the one she knew and trusted.
Zee finally regained her senses and some control of her body. Having achieved its goal, the magic was retreating. Only the smell of sex—and something else—remained sharp in the air. “I finally understand why the French call it the little death,” she whispered, feeling pleased that she could again form words. For a while, all she had managed were moans and cries, barely heard above the frantic pounding of her heart. Speech meant that she was again among the sane, again in control.
“There’s nothing little about this.” Nick’s voice was slightly louder but still ragged. He swallowed hard. When he completely regained his breath, he whispered into her ear, “Zee, please don’t ever try to leave me again. This is as close as I ever want us to come to any kind of death.”
“What a way to go,” she joked, but it fell flat. Neither of them was feeling lighthearted. Zee sighed, and turned her head to kiss the arm she’d bitten. She was ashamed to see that she had drawn blood.
“What the hell are we going to do?” Nick asked after another minute passed. “You’re right, you know. This proves it. It was the magic that brought us together. Not that I’m sorry! Believe me, I’m not. But it seems wrong—like we’ve been trapped in some great scheme not of our making. I hate that anything can have this much power over us. And from here on out, we have to be more careful about using a condom. Jack says that inside this mound is where fey conceive.”
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