by Rose O'Brien
He hadn’t wanted to come during the blow job, not at first. He’d wanted to save that for when he was inside her, but now he was glad he had. Because this sight right here would have had him orgasming in a heartbeat. Now, he had a shot at lasting more than a minute.
When she rose up on her knees and positioned the head of him at her opening, his entire body went still and he stopped breathing. But as she sank down slowly, taking him inside her, he groaned so loud, he was pretty sure the chandelier in the sitting room was shaking.
She began to move, rotating her hips as she rose and fell, the elegant muscles in her long legs shifting and flexing beneath her soft skin. He ran his hands over her hips and up to her breasts, memorizing the curves of her.
Her face was pleasure made flesh. Her mouth was swollen, her lips parted, her dark lashes resting on her flushed cheeks. Her breath was coming fast and little breathy moans escaped with each downward stroke of her hips.
The sight of his cock disappearing inside her over and over again was pushing him too close to the edge too quickly. As he watched, her hand drifted to where their bodies were joined. Her fingertips touched her clit and began to circle. As she threw her head back and began to moan, he cursed and had to slam his eyes shut or he was going to come right now.
Without sight, the sensation of her inner muscles gripping his cock threatened to overwhelm him. She was delicious slick heat and friction. He started to draw protection wards in his head to distract himself. He’d always been shit at wards and it was a serious challenge to remember all the intricate symbols, swirls and knots.
Suddenly, her cries intensified, and her pussy tightened around him as she came. His eyes snapped open and the look of pleasure on her beautiful face pushed him right over the edge, the orgasm ripping through him, his release filling her.
He rose off the bed as he came, his arms wrapping around her, crushing her against his chest as she continued to ride him. He buried his face in her sweet smelling hair as she stilled and they both shuddered.
As he pulled back and met her eyes, that was when it hit him. He loved her. Shit. He loved her. A moment of panic fluttered in his chest. He swallowed hard and tried to fight the urge to run again.
This could not happen. This was not happening.
Instead of running, he pulled her against him so she couldn’t see his face. He lay back on the bed, tucking her beside him and pulling the sheets and blankets over them. Jen was boneless and heading for sleep. Meanwhile, he was panicking.
He didn’t get emotional during sex. Ever. What was wrong with him? More than likely, he was going to have to let this woman go in the morning. The Corps brass was going to take her from him, whisk her into some kind of training, send him onto the next mission.
He might never see her again.
Something inside him screamed at that thought and a distinct ache started in his chest. He closed his eyes and reveled for a moment in the feel of this woman in his arms.
He tried to calm himself, bank his inner fire. He took a long look around inside himself, examining his feelings, picking them apart. In that calm, he examined his heart, mentally poking at it. Something was different about it.
It wasn’t his anymore. It was hers. Slowly, over the last few days, it had been taken over, cell by cell, until it belonged to her. He hadn’t noticed until the process was complete, but it was and there was nothing he could do about it now.
He looked over in the darkness at the woman asleep in his arms. Jen was a prickly, fiercely independent creature. Would she even want it? And if she did, could they stay together?
It was worth a try, he decided. When they got to the Citadel tomorrow, he’d explain that he needed to stay with her, to help her transition. He was the only one she trusted, he’d explain. She’d never work with them if they separated the two of them.
If the brass wanted her to join them, he needed to be with her. And if their relationship was discovered, it might not be condemned. Jen was valuable. And she already knew about their world. Heck, she was willing to join it. Maybe it would work.
There would be some pushback, he knew. Mages were supposed hook up with other mages so they could make little mage babies and continue to feed the ranks of the Corps. Mages and sapiens were just different enough that they couldn’t have offspring.
He didn’t care about that. If the brass fought him, he’d offer whatever genetic material they needed to make little test tube mages. He’d even let female mages use his body if that was what it took.
With a start, he realized he’d do anything it took to keep this woman with him.
As he felt sleep starting to drag at him, he made up his mind. When they got to the Citadel tomorrow, he’d get her alone and explain where he was and what he wanted to happen. He hoped she was in the same place, or at least in the same neighborhood.
They were a good team. They worked. They could do this.
His last thought as he drifted off was that come tomorrow night, he hoped he was right back here, with Jen naked, sated and asleep in his arms.
***
Jen’s first thought after waking the next morning was that the air conditioning in the hotel must have quit sometime in the night because it was sweltering in here. She’d kicked off all the sheets and blankets in her sleep and she was still warm.
Then, she turned her head and realized where all that heat was coming from. Theron was beside her. And he was putting out heat like a stoked furnace.
He was gloriously naked, and the light coming in from this sitting room caught in the fine gold hairs that dusted his thighs, forearms and chest. It glittered along his jaw as he smiled slowly, realizing that she was awake. His eyes opened slowly and in the shadows, his eyes looked almost violet. For just a moment, she allowed herself to stare at those eyes. They were dark blue one minute, purple the next, their true color somewhere between the two. She realized that she wanted more time with him, to study those eyes. The color seemed to shift slightly in different lights, in different moods. She wanted to get to know every shade.
The desire surprised her a little. Even with Trevor, she’d never wanted to know what color his eyes were when he was sad or when he laughed in sunlight. Was she becoming infatuated? She reached out and ran her fingers through Theron’s hair watching the light play through the golds, coppers and platinums. It was like watching a candle flame dance in the low light.
His eyes closed and a rumble of pleasure sounded low in his throat, a small smile twisting his lips at the corner.
She’d had crushes before, and those had felt similar to this. The fascination with the way that he moved, the little details of his appearance, the sound of his voice, it had all the hallmarks of a crush.
She’d never had sex with anyone she’d had a crush on before. Her crushes in high school and college had never looked her way and eventually the crush had been forgotten.
Trevor was the only man she’d ever loved, but she’d never had a crush on him. They’d been a part of the same circle of friends in college, and they’d just slid into an easy relationship. She’d loved him, but she was never fascinated with him, not to this point.
Trevor had been ambitious, charming and polished. He’d known what a shrimp fork was and what kind of wine to order with fish. Trevor was everything she’d thought she wanted back then. They just fit. It was easy.
But she’d never lusted for him.
She’d had men since Trevor. There had been a couple of journalists she’d met at the bar in the Palestine Hotel. They’d been passing through Baghdad on reporting trips back when the war had been wrapping up. They’d connected over drinks and shop talk and the shared experience of their work, but they’d been little more than one-night stands. She knew better than to get involved with another journalist.
There was the Mossad agent she saw periodically. When he was passing through Baghdad or she was passing through Jerusalem, they’d text and meet up, but that was about sex. She wasn’t even sure she knew his real name
.
Theron was different than anyone she’d been with before, and not just because he was a slightly different human subspecies with super powers.
She liked him. He was funny. Even fake zombies and bandits couldn’t dampen his sense of humor. He was gorgeous and, she had to admit to herself, she had a crush on him. And the sex was phenomenal.
For the first time since her world had come crashing down five years ago, she allowed herself to think, just for a moment, what it might be like to have someone in her life. Someone that she looked forward to seeing and talking with and laughing with and making love with.
The thought absolutely terrified her. After five years of living in war zones, she’d thought she’d left fear behind. This mad run from Baghdad to Damascus had shown her that she could be scared again. It had also shown her that she could laugh and get pissed off and feel something for a man again.
His words from the night before slammed back into her. He’d told her they couldn’t be together. It was forbidden. His people would offer her protection and a purpose, but they wouldn’t let her have him. They were probably going to have to say goodbye today.
Wouldn’t it just figure that the first person she’d been able to open up to, to develop some feelings for, would be the one she couldn’t have? That was the story of her life, putting her heart and soul and energy in the wrong places, with the wrong people. She’d given her heart to Trevor; he’d thrown it away without a backward glance. She’d given her energy to her newspaper back in LA, and they’d thrown her away without a thought. She’d pinned her future on a child that hadn’t lived. And just as the stone shell around her heart was cracking, she was going to have to harden it again and say goodbye to Theron. Today.
Chapter 14
Theron scanned the hotel room one last time as they prepared to check out and head to the Mage Corps Damascus HQ. As he shoved items in his bag, he noticed a metallic glint among the sheets. Sifting through the material, he came up with a chain. It was Jen’s phoenix necklace. Looking closer, he saw that the little clasp had broken, and it had come off during their session the night before.
Knowing what the necklace meant to her, he palmed it. Jen was waiting by the door, her bag over her shoulder. He stepped up next to her and slipped the necklace in her pocket, fully intending to tell her that he’d found it and that she should get it fixed.
As he opened the door and his mouth to tell her, Jen’s body went ridged and her eyes wide.
The necklace forgotten, he asked, “What is it?”
“It’s one of them,” she said, nodding to an empty space in the hallway. A frown creased his face before it dawned on him. A spirit. She was seeing a spirit.
“What do you see?”
“She’s young, maybe twenty-one. Long hair, short dress, high heels, lots of makeup. She’s beautiful. She looks like a model.”
Jen stared for a moment, frowning. She waved a hand at empty space, like she was trying to get someone’s attention.
“Hello?”
After a moment’s silence, Jen turned to him.
“She’s spacy. Too far gone to see me. They get like that if they’ve been around awhile,” she said. Jen started heading off down the hallway. “Nothing we can do here. We should go.”
They hit the elevator and he punched the button for the garage level. He’d set up automatic checkout with the front desk last night so they wouldn’t have to go through the lobby. They were so close to home free now; he didn’t want to risk even the smallest exposure if he didn’t have to.
The ride to HQ was a silent one. The perpetual traffic jam that seemed to clog the streets of Damascus 24/7 was in full swing. Jen just stared out the window, seemingly lost in thought. He wondered if she saw spirits walking the streets. Her encounter in the hotel hallway had unnerved him a little. He’d almost forgotten about her gift. For just one night, they’d been two people, not a mage and a seer.
He wondered if she saw spirits often. Were they everywhere? What was it like for her to walk among the living and the dead at once?
When he got her to the Citadel, it should be relatively spirit-free. Deaths happened very rarely there. Members of the Mage Corps weren’t particularly long-lived, but they died in the field. The ones who made it to the healers wing of the Citadel usually survived.
And if he took her to his place? He’d had the house built, and no one had ever died anywhere near it, that he knew of. The place could be a refuge for her. It had always been one for him. And if she was there, for him it would be paradise.
After what seemed like an eternity, he pulled the SUV up to a loading bay that was nestled in amongst the buildings of old Damascus. The heart of the old city had narrow streets that barely allowed their vehicle to pass, and the rolling door set back from the sidewalk had just enough clearance to get the monster inside.
He pushed a call button on the side of the building. When he heard the click and the slight hiss of static that said the mic was live, he said, “It’s Blackwell.”
There was a long beep, and then the door began rolling back. Theron pulled the SUV forward and hit a ramp that descended steeply into the darkness. The bottom of the ramp opened up in to an underground garage level. Fluorescent lights flickered to life overhead, and a metal door opened to the left. A petite brunette woman stepped through and waved them over.
Theron parked the hulking SUV and killed the engine. The mage looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t pull a name from his memory.
“Welcome to Damascus HQ. I’m Bridget,” she told him as he opened the driver’s door and hopped out. Jen was climbing down from her side and looping the strap of her bag over her shoulder.
He reached out and shook the other mage’s hand. She was solidly built, but the top of her head barely reached the middle of his chest. Curly brown hair fell to her shoulders, and green eyes met his. The energy around her marked her as an air mage, and her scent was that of a cold mountain wind, with the hint of something underneath it that he couldn’t place.
Theron could swear he’d seen her somewhere before, but he couldn’t place it. She looked like maybe she was about his age. Maybe they’d been at the Academy together?
“As my handler probably mentioned, we need to use your portal, Bridget.”
“Of course,” she said, turning for the door. “We’ll get you back to the Citadel in no time.”
***
Jen trailed behind Theron and Bridget as they entered a brightly-lit corridor lined with rooms. They were dozens of feet underground, but these rooms looked like living quarters. There was one full of guns and other weapons, an armory maybe? Some of the rooms were set up like offices.
Theron spoke to Bridget. “Is Jeremiah around? I haven’t seen him since the Academy, I was hoping to say hello while I was in the neighborhood.”
As the little brunette turned her head to look at Theron, something shimmered in the air near her shoulder. Jen blinked hard. Maybe she’d gotten less sleep than she thought? Or perhaps it was a trick of the light? Or some mage thing she didn’t understand? These people were magic, after all.
She caught the shimmering again, this time next to the woman’s ear and it made Jen uneasy for some reason.
“The Commander and the rest of the team are conducting reconnaissance in the north. We’ve had some reports of unusual activity around some of the smaller outlying villages.”
“And they left you to hold down the fort?”
“Something like that,” Bridget answered.
Jen pushed away her uneasiness. She was just tired and worn out from the last few days. They’d be in a safe place soon, and she could relax and get some sleep.
As they turned the corner, the hallway opened up into a huge space full of gym mats, punching bags and free weights, a training center of some kind.
“We’d better head back to the Citadel then. I’ll see Jeremiah the next time I breeze through,” Theron said.
“Of course, sir.”
Jen spotte
d a figure in the far corner of the gym. It was a large man, with shaggy brown hair and broad shoulders. The hollows of his cheeks were deep, and dark circles ringed his eyes. His eyes seemed to burn.
The man tilted his head as she made eye contact, considering her. His eyes widened in surprise. Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, he was beside her, and she nearly screamed. Bridget had said she was the only one here. This man was a spirit.
Theron sensed her distress and turned, took her hand.
“You okay, princess?”
“Just a spirit. Startled me.”
The spirit’s mouth was moving, but there was no sound that she could hear. She tried to read his lips to make out the words. There might have been “Stop” and “Them” and something looked like “Killer,” but he was talking too quickly. And the spirit wasn’t entirely solid now, blinking in and out as he tried to speak to her.
“Your handler wasn’t kidding when he said she was a seer,” Bridget said, a note of awe in her voice.
“She’s the real deal,” Theron told her. “Jen, what does he look like?”
“Brown hair, yellow eyes, tall, big shoulders. He’s trying to say something, but I can’t hear him. He seems pretty agitated.”
“That sounds kind of like Jeremiah,” Theron said, his eyes narrowing on the space in front of Jen like he could see the spirit if he tried hard enough.”
“He’s still alive,” Bridget said emphatically. “It could be Ven. We lost him during a raid on a nest of rogue ghouls a couple of months ago.”
The spirit was pointing at Bridget and shaking his head. Anxiety rose within Jen. She wished she could understand the spirit, but if it had been a few weeks, and this spirit might be starting to space. Sometimes spirits were only images or disembodied voices or just cold spots after a while.
“I’m sorry,” she told the spirit. “I can’t understand you. I wish I could help.”
Theron looked uneasy. “We need to go, Jen.”