by Lisa Daniels
“Purple-colored. Cute,” Ellie said, raising one eyebrow as she regarded Mason’s attempt at protection.
“Blackberry-flavored, too,” Mason said with a smirk. “They have all sorts. Can never decide which one to settle on.”
Some of her boldness returned. “I’d like to try that.”
Mason quirked an eyebrow in return. Ellie positioned herself, knees hitting the floor as Mason drew near, and let her have a taste of his erection for the first time. He didn’t want to spend too long with this, because he knew how sensitive he was. Ellie took him in her mouth, and as he expected, that was entirely too warm and pleasant, and the way she looked up at him as her lips pressed around him was… well—enough to almost make him finish on the spot.
He stopped her after only a minute, picking her up and dropping her on the bed once more.
“It doesn’t really taste like blackberry,” Ellie said, before letting out a surprised gasp when Mason drew her core toward him and clamped his lips over the prominent nub that poked out. She was wet, and eager, and squirmed far too much to escape his relentless pleasure, but he held firm, and his fingers dug into her thighs. Words tumbled out of her mouth, a confused rush of them, and he wasn’t sure if she was begging him to stop or keep going, but he felt the tension in her body and the shaking in her thighs, and kept going until she arched up with a breathy cry, stiff and shuddering as her orgasm took over.
He didn’t think he’d ever get over the sight of a female orgasm—and especially one from someone he never thought he might have. Craving more contact, he slid up her body when she relaxed, and plunged himself in her up to the hilt. She parted easily for him, and her head rocked back in surprise. He covered the gasp from her mouth with a quick kiss, and then a quick tongue dart. He thrust within her as she whimpered encouragement, feeling triumphant, powerful, growling that she was his, that he could do anything he wanted to her. The heat built up in his erection, before exploding in a great assault of pleasure. He remained in her for a moment longer, not wanting to leave, and savored the moment of her sprawled out beneath him, flustered and damp and thoroughly wrecked from the screwing they’d just done. Smiling with pride, he finally extricated himself and plucked off the condom, throwing it in the wastepaper basket.
Ellie reached out her hands for him and he slipped into her arms, kissing her neck gently, taking in her wonderful scent, now with a hint of vanilla from the perfume she liked. Right now, he must be the luckiest dragon shifter in the world.
The darker part of his mind knew that this kind of match-up would more or less knock him off the final rung of the dragon caste system, as humans, if he were to have any children with them, would dilute the blood further. Probably he’d end up with dragon shifter children the size of beagles or something. But he didn’t care. He didn’t want to care about all that dragon shifter dynamic. All he wanted to focus on right now was Ellie. On how astonishing she was. On how his heart felt like exploding just even looking at her right now.
“My limbs feel like Jell-O,” Ellie confessed, and indeed, she did seem to be weak in the limbs, and her body acted unresponsive to his gentle nudgings. He helped steer her into a more comfortable position, and let his right arm drape over her as he settled into the big spoon position.
“Do you want to sleep?” he asked her. “We can get up and do something if you want. I can grab you a drink or...”
“Sleep sounds good,” Ellie purred, gripping onto his hand. “I want to hold onto this right now. Fall asleep thinking of you.”
Well—that sent a little shiver through his spine, to think she liked the moment so much, she wanted to hold onto it and visualize it into sleep.
“I’m okay with that, too,” he whispered into her ear, before promptly nodding off into sleep. Apparently he was a little more exhausted than he originally thought.
Chapter Eleven – Ellie
Could anything have been more perfect than this? Ellie didn’t think so. She woke up, and Mason’s arm was still around her. His heat pressed into her back, and his very presence sent a warm glow through her. There was also the slight arousal that came when she remembered just exactly what they did last night. After the first session, they did fall asleep, but not for very long, since they both woke up aroused as heck and decided to do something about it. Several more times. Ellie thought they would just be a one-and-done for the night.
How mistaken she was. She had seriously underestimated the stamina of a dragon shifter—and herself. She didn’t think she could end up desiring someone more after being with them once. Shouldn’t that feeling have dissipated by now?
It didn’t. It just continued to strengthen, and she’d accumulated more memories for her desire to clutch onto. Memories of the words he’d spoken, the warmth of his body, and the solidness of his arms. How he had held her down and ordered her, or how he had relinquished all control to her, for her to do as she wished. She loved the way she thought she saw the dragon within smoldering behind his eyes. That warm, toasty sensation in her heart made her almost flick out her legs in excitement, in disbelief of what they had done. The dreams she experienced of Mason—finally something had been made of them. Finally, she found out for herself, confirmed for certain, that the bodyguard liked her.
More than liked, she thought to herself. His intense stares held something extra within them. Like a silent confession of love, a promise that she meant everything to him.
Needless to say, she wasn’t exactly used to that kind of feeling. To the notion that someone might love her so unconditionally that she would never even need to question it. To be honest, it scared her so much that the idea of expressing it verbally made her throat lock up. She gently repositioned herself so that she could face Mason. His face, when slumbering, had no lines at all, and the near permanent suspicious frown he liked to wear was gone.
He sure did look a hell of a lot younger like this. Though she liked him even with those little lines pressing upon his face. She was pretty sure he could suddenly grow a whole lot of pimples on his skin and she’d still like him anyway. Not that she hoped he might erupt out in them or anything.
It annoyed her on a level just how handsome he was. Would it kill the guy to have more imperfections on his person? Oh, sure, he went on about his dragon form being inferior and all that, but she didn’t see why. Okay, maybe he was tiny compared to some of the dragon shifters she’d seen, but whatever. He was the perfect size for her. He let her go on little rides on his back to explore the skies and get to places faster. He had that little gap in his neck scales that she could hold onto and make sure that she never slipped off. Honestly, those dragons needed to get over the mine is bigger than yours sentiment. Although, of course, if he wasn’t considered so low-caste, then perhaps her father would never have hired him.
Funny how life turned out sometimes. Not that she wanted to complain about it.
She wished the moments between her and Mason could last forever. Without worrying about anything, without having to return to the real world, and listen to the whispers of her magic. She wanted to stroke his cheek softly, and see what she could get away with before he woke up. She wanted to kiss his forehead, and slide an inquisitive hand over his bare chest, and possibly, maybe, consider doing something more to encourage morning wood. There were so many things to do. Options blazed through her, causing her lips to tug up at the corners and a certain heaviness to enter each of her inhales and exhales. Unfortunately, things didn’t want to work out according to her hopeful anticipations. No sooner had she kissed Mason and risen from the bedcovers to attend to her morning ritual, than she got bombarded by Talia, who came hurtling into the room with rather wild eyes.
“Ellie! Ellie! The news… it looks really bad this time. The undead...” She hesitated, noticing the rather compromising position Ellie was in with Mason. “Really? You too?”
“What?” Ellie said. Mason stirred beside her, his green eyes already alert and attentive, rather than dazed and out of it. He also look
ed ever so slightly embarrassed.
Talia squeezed her eyes shut as if she wanted to burn the image out of her mind. “It doesn’t matter. You need to come. Now. Uh—but dress first.”
“I’m dressing,” Ellie said wryly, as Talia fled from the bedroom. She hurriedly fished for her clothes and placed them on, though Mason was faster with his, and tracked Talia down to the lounge in front of the television, where a Breaking News alert consumed the screen and a rather nervous-looking reporter stood in front of what looked like a place attacked by arson.
“They estimate the army to be less than half a day’s advance from Lasthearth. There are last-minute evacuations going on, but there are also those who have chosen to stay. Word from other reporters maintains that the Lasthearth police department are gathering their own necromancers to try and combat the advance. More on this later, as we seek to update you with the latest news.” The reporter made a frantic glance behind her, before dashing off from the screen. The camera went black, and the newsreaders in their studio were not impressed with what had happened.
Mason chose this moment to stumble in, yawning, and Ellie hastily informed him of the news.
“We’re not moving, are we?” he said, worried. His face looked rumpled and oddly cute, but this wasn’t the time to start with the cute stuff.
“It doesn’t look like it...” Talia said, even as Rosen Grieves burst into the lounge, frazzled and stressed.
“Okay, okay, let’s ship you all to the precinct. We’re going to need you all to do your thing. Try and steal some of the summons, and use some of the ones we’ve been provided.”
“Wait...” Mason raised a tentative finger. “You’ve collected your own bodies? We’re having an undead army versus undead army clash?”
“Looks like,” Rosen said. “Morgana and Ellie will be of particular use here, because they both have a lot of experience handling spirits in a combative situation. Talia will help attempt to pinch them from the enemy, same with me...”
“It won’t work if they’ve bound them securely to their own person,” Ellie pointed out, dubious, nervous, and excited all at once.
“We don’t have a much better plan, since the military in their encampments have been overthrown each time. We’ve even had some of the dragon shifters and werewolves rampaging through the army, but it’s a little hard to take down an army when they just keep reconstructing themselves, even from specks of ash. We have to find the leader, and he’s keeping himself hidden. Or his people hidden. There’s probably a lot of them.”
Ellie thought so, too. Mason laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, and she leaned into his touch, though she didn’t dare do anything more than that in front of everyone. There was a time and a place, after all. Wordlessly, they finished off whatever they intended to do in the kitchen, gulping down drinks, a quick break toward the bathroom, and then they were off, crammed into Rosen and Rickard Grieves’ cars as they trundled off to the precinct, ready to deal with the chaos waiting to hit their city.
“Why can’t we all just get along?” Talia slumped in the seat next to Ellie, looking morose, and Ellie gave her a little shrug of the shoulders in response.
“People are unwilling to do so.” She scowled, because she wished in some ways this wasn’t the case. But people really liked to be awful at times. It was almost like they went out of their way to be terrible.
She didn’t know what was about to happen. All she knew was that no matter what, she needed to prepare herself in every way possible.
At least she had Mason by her side, and her father happened to be safe. He might not have exactly won the Best Dad award at any time within her upbringing, but he was still her father, and some part of him did care. Even if he didn’t really know how to express it. He showed it in his eyes. He cared. She knew it from the bottom of her soul.
“I think the world would be an easier place if there weren’t any magic,” Talia said, staring out of the window of the SUV her sister drove, watching cars and buildings whip by. “I think a lot of the problems in the world seem to originate with magic.”
“That’s not true,” Ellie said, vehement in her disagreement. “Even if there weren’t any magic, people would find ways to do awful things anyway. They’d… build bigger bombs or something, or make people slaves like they did in the old days.”
Talia seemed unable to shrug off her dour mood. Ellie couldn’t blame her, because she knew they were facing an awful foe today. One they didn’t know if they could survive, because it was just a few necromancers like them against what sounded like an entire army. Thousands upon thousands. Too many for them to process. What was to stop them from being simply swamped, like they were little more than bowling pins, ready to be knocked over?
Not much. So Ellie’s nerves felt like little wriggling snakes by the time they had arrived and were subsequently shown to the bodies they were supposed to revive. It was a horrible, solemn sight, to have so many of them covered in white sheets, lined up outside the yard, hidden by a tall, brick wall and iron railings. Several necromancers walked among them, silent and respectful, probing the Other Side with their magic to speak to the spirits. Mason’s hand tightened on Ellie’s shoulder.
“Do you think you have a chance?” he whispered to her, and his voice stirred all sorts of pleasant memories. Ones that she was reluctant to part from, to lose. Not when she could be alive for so much longer.
“I don’t know,” she said, though a part of her wanted to blurt out, no chance. Not from the reports she’d been following. Not from the testimonies of those caught in the advance, and the footage they had managed to collect. Zaimov seemed to be controlling thousands of bodies at once, and she didn’t understand it. By all the rules she’d learned about the magic, it should have been impossible to control so many. He should have been drained of all his magic after a few moments of handling them. He shouldn’t be able to function.
Yet he did.
How?
A familiar brush from the Other Side caused her to gently slide from Mason’s hold to slip into her trance, to embrace the spirits in their muted realm. There were a few on the first layer, including the familiar essence of her mother, who seemed to have broken free of Zaimov’s grip once more.
“Mother, can we get you to fight with us?” Ellie wasted no time in saying so, wondering if she could somehow override the command. He should be spread out thinly. There should be spirits with a possibility of being stolen from him.
“No. You can’t. I will try not to fight,” she said, though she appeared slightly dubious as she said it. “But he has harnessed… us. Many of his have the independence of a revenant, but the devotion of a guardian angel. They protect him free of charge. He does not have to use his magic.”
Ellie let out a little gasp, and she wasn’t the only one to do so. Other necromancers on the same layer as her on the Other Side were also listening in, drawn by the strange guardian angel. Many of them had never seen one, but there were a few familiar with them, like Ellie and Morgana.
“He doesn’t use magic at all? And he’s being… protected?”
“Yes,” her mother replied simply. “We protect him, the ones who are gone… even if it is against our wills. He can take us away from our resting place. There is no counter for us, even if we fall back to it.”
Ellie paled at that. Their chances of success went from a slim possibility to nearly no chance at all. How the hell were they supposed to resist that? What could possibly stop someone who could abuse the power of spirits in that manner?
“Is there no way to stop him, Mother?”
The spirit looked sad. “There might be. But I do not know of it. I only know from what the other spirits have been saying, and from my own experiences. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Ellie said, though she took the time to embrace her mother. Two spirits embracing didn’t feel quite the same as a real-world hug, but it wasn’t exactly awful, either. Her mother should have been long gone, she should have been free f
rom the trappings of the mortal world.
Another spirit entered the first layer, one flickering with darkness, with red and black motifs. Ellie suppressed the urge to shriek out a warning, as she recognized it in that same instant as Talia’s father, Rickard Grieves.
“Spirit,” he said gruffly to Ellie’s mother. “Can you show me the path you take back to your master?”
Ellie’s mother regarded him dubiously. “You are on these people’s sides?”
“I’m on your daughter’s side,” he said. “The revenant in me desires vengeance for what Zaimov has done to him. I am best equipped to answer his dream.”
There was a long, awkward pause between them, and Ellie’s mother flickered in and out, as if being pulled elsewhere. “I will show you,” she said. Rickard reached out to touch the guardian angel. And just like that, he and her mother vanished, puffed away in a blaze of blue and red light. Leaving Ellie to stare in absolute confusion, and then leaving her to confront a rather alarmed and frightened Talia and Rosen Grieves. Since it was their father, after all, who had vanished. And it wasn’t exactly every day that someone’s father decided to up and out themselves from the world and follow a guardian angel into goodness knows where.
“Where did my father go? Where did he go?” Talia’s spirit dove in beside Ellie, who could only shrug in response, repeating the words she had heard. Rosen drifted over to listen as well, along with Morgana Hargraves. None of them knew if Rickard Grieves would return. All they knew was that they needed to persist with their game plan nonetheless, and trust that they were doing the best that they could. Nothing else mattered. One by one, the necromancers in that room took over the cluster of spirits, until dozens of bodies were animated at once. It stretched the limits of their powers, and Ellie felt the strain of balancing several beings at once. Usually she had strained herself with two spirits maximum, but now she was juggling about twenty-five of them at once. Which also meant she couldn’t really give them all complicated instructions without wearing out her energy further.