by S E Holmes
“You may as well take a seat. It’s too late now, anyway. Thanks to your stunt today.”
Nic peered around uncertainly. “Stunt? Christ you people are cryptic.”
“You were never supposed to touch me of your own volition.”
There wasn’t really any suitable furniture, resigning him to a spot cross-legged on the floor. “Well, lock me up for the crime of the century. I’ve had some recent experience with the Law. Thanks to Sasha’s stunt last night.”
“Touché.”
She sighed theatrically and patted the mattress. He thought this a very bad idea, but complied anyway. As soon as he sat -- so near, the friction of her every breath whispered his flesh -- the enormity of the mistake jammed home. A current of attraction burst in his veins and he had to avert his gaze to stop from instinctively reaching for her. He closed eyes and waited for the urge to pass.
After a painfully stretched silence, he opted for humour to deflect the insistent, seething need. He grinned at her, testing the springs as she had done only this morning. Mira bounced slightly, bits of her a tantalising jiggle. Clearly best to avoid the humour approach.
She bit her lip. He was certain this time, she stared at him with raw hunger, forced to shake her head to break from the trance. Hair swished in a sinuous wave and he censored a vision of teasing it between his fingers. Nic had to get out of here at the nearest opportunity. He had not a scrap of faith in his dodgy resistance.
“Jonathon is playing billiards with, believe it or not, an ex-Texas Ranger. They are reminiscing on the glory of American chilli, among many topics. Sam is hanging on my father’s every word at a seminar on big cat conservation... And other matters.” A shifty expression briefly lit her features, gone before he was sure.
“You see,” she spread palms and shrugged, the simple action somehow captivating. “They remain liberated from chains in our dungeons, all limbs intact.”
Nic tried to ease his pulse by breathing slowly. “I trust you’re using those chains to secure that lunatic cousin?”
“Hmm, he has proven more bothersome than usual. I have caught him spying on me, even here. I must be very careful when I undress.”
He concentrated on the confusion, thoughts of her disrobed most unwise. “But it’s four storeys off the ground with a steep roof. How?”
“Yes. That is the question, is it not?”
Nic wilted and rubbed his face. “Is there a remote chance you could speak plainly?”
She waited for him to take his head from his hands. Wriggling back against the carved bed-head to nestle on her side in plump pillows, she beckoned he join her. Nic nearly objected aloud on the grounds of feeble self-control, but caved. He grudgingly admitted it: he wanted more than anything to be next to her.
As she launched into her story, he worked like a madman to focus on the words only. Not her shapely legs extended beside his, not her little finger within millimetres of his, definitely not the rise and fall of her breasts on the fringe of sight. He did not spend any time at all obsessing over what her lips would feel like against his. He paid no attention whatsoever to the burn lighting his body.
“The Arkady line is long, back to the royalty of ancient Egypt in fact. Our ancestors worshipped the feline above all other creatures, the cat-goddess Bast. This devotion has continued to the current era. We keep their ceremonies and rituals alive. In return, the select few who practice our faith believe it bequeaths much influence and favour. Perhaps, it is the placebo effect or blind self-confidence, but all are at the pinnacle of their professions, successful and wealthy beyond measure.”
Mira brushed a wayward lock from her mouth and his focus lingered there. The red sheets highlighted the brilliant opalescence of her eyes. He remembered Nate’s claim: “no matter how blistering she is, anyone who goes anywhere near Mira is totally tapped.”
“You belong to a cult?” Nic pretended he was in a dentist’s chair, rifling his oppositional mind for images of maggots or anything disgusting to lessen the craving, the overbearing stimulation of her proximity.
“I was raised by the Felid. It is my life.”
“You don’t indulge in human sacrifice, do you?”
Nic had no difficulty imagining Sasha’s enthusiastic participation in such a rite. She laughed, a throaty rumble that sent shivers through him. And he’d heard that name before, Sam’s ramblings earning significance. Had they brain-washed his brother? His father would not succumb so readily, surely. Although, if they had other weapons like Mira at their disposal, no-one was safe.
“Your eyes are so wide right now. Scaredy cat,” she teased, evidently enjoying his discomfort. Her beautiful face was far too close.
“Comical. You are joking. Aren’t you?” She continued to stare and it felt as though he’d tumble into the ocean of her irises and be lost forever.
“They are the exact shade of a tiger’s.”
“You’ve gotten that near?”
“Of course. A long time ago. It is not something soon forgotten. Hypnotic and very beautiful, like orange-tinged toffee.”
Was she granting him a compliment? “Mira, tell me! Are you joking about human sacrifice?”
“After a fashion.”
“What does that mean?”
“In any legend, there is always a price to pay for magic or power.”
“Well, that clears that up! And what has any of it got to do with me, specifically?”
Now,” she shimmied closer, the length of her facing him, hip wedging his hand. “We come to the climax of our plot. You tell me, Nic.”
He gasped; pornographic images of all the things he wanted to do to her flooding his mind, no matter how he fought to stop them. This was ludicrous; he’d never been so affected by a female. He writhed from her onto his back, but sleeker than night, she matched the effort, straddling him, skirt creeping up her thighs against the strain. Her hands were flat on the pillows either side of his head, keeping him prone.
“What are you thinking at this exact moment?” She smirked knowingly. “Have you experienced such overwhelming desire before?”
“Ah, ah,” he stuttered, aiming for levity. No mean feat helpless and pinned like steak on a fork. The rumours of cannibalism and those gruesome crime scene photos chose this instant to emerge. Maybe that was why they’d all stared at him: sizing up the length of the roasting-spit and whether to stuff an apple in his mouth for dinner.
“Boy.” He pointed at himself. “Girl.” He pointed at her. “A strange girl. Who goes from abusing me one moment to apparently wanting to...” he struggled for a descriptor.
“Seduce you?”
“Yep, that seems to be next.” His dignity had fled. She must be pissed. He hated getting involved with girls who drank too much. It made things complicated and messy; they never remembered what you’d done. Or said. “At bewildering light-speed.”
“Try and fight it,” Mira dared. Her expression was fierce, fingertips lightening across his cheek. “Such furious passion.” Was he dreaming or did her breathing accelerate too?
“Of course I can fight it! I’m not an animal.” She just had to drop scant centimetres to discover his arousal, so keen it hurt.
“We are all primitive beasts in one way or another. At the mercy of our urges.”
“And what if I don’t want to resist, anyway?” he asked quietly. Why was he striving so hard to stop? A smoking hot babe wrapped her legs around him, in a bed, unlikely to be interrupted. He’d earn that virginal reputation lest he acted, but some groundless instinct prevented it.
“Can you guess why I’ve endeavoured to avoid you, Nic?”
“Not a clue. Hence the questions.” He prayed Sasha was not spying right now.
“My family and all those congregating downstairs believe you are my pre-ordained mate. Our union is foretold to herald a new beginning. One to invigorate the withering Felid line and return it to its rightful power.”
“I can’t believe I missed it. It’s so obvious.” Was
she serious? He couldn’t help it. Nic burst out in uncontrolled laughter.
“You think it funny?” she snapped.
In a single fluid movement Mira swung from him to stand over the bed, glowering. She dragged her skirt down to her knees. Her outrage added to the amusement. He obviously didn’t give her fairy-tale appropriate gravity.
“Oh, no,” he choked. “I think it’s utterly hilarious! You and I hook-up and everyone’s rewarded with a big dollop of ninja juju.”
Free from the bind, Nic curled over and let hysteria get the better of him. What a spectacle! The whole lot of them were as deluded as some Jim Jones sect, whose kooky leaders dupe their followers into acts of idiocy, such as group suicide by cordial. It was thoroughly illogical.
Suddenly, he was reefed upright, shock silencing him immediately. He couldn’t catch his breath. Mira held him aloft with embarrassing ease, face-to-face, his t-shirt bunched up and belly exposed. She was shorter than him, but he didn’t want to hurt her trying to get free, so he hung there like limp spaghetti. And the disconcerting thought he was powerless against her strength refused to go away.
“It does not matter what you believe to be true. They will act to fulfil this prophecy. All of them are a danger to you unless you comply.”
It occurred to ask. “Are your parents stalking me, Mira?”
“Yes,” she nodded emphatically. “And they will entice your family, your friends, everyone you have any feelings towards, in order to gain the leverage to get what they want. They will invade your life, exploit what you value, weeds choking concrete until it crumbles. Melodramatic, don’t you think? I should have brought more Champagne.” Mira shook her head again, tone bitter. “Silly me. There is not enough alcohol in the world to drown these sorrows.”
She lowered him miserably and smoothed the fabric over his stomach. He tensed and gently removed her hands, not sure allowing further intimacy, especially southward, helped. Nic realised Mira was a greater challenge than a drunkard: she was mentally ill. Is that what had stopped him? He couldn’t take advantage of someone so messed-up? The best approach was no approach. Time to leave and never come back. They stood together, him clasping her wrists. Defeated, she did not try to break away.
“And what is it they want?”
She looked up at him, so sad he yearned to hug her. “For you to save their little girl.”
***
Chapter Nineteen