Blood Moons (7 page)

59

Blood Moons

by Alianne Donnelly

"Think of something other than him. Think of your castle, and
the bonfire and dancing."
Dara squeezed her eyes shut and let it happen. Before the noises and nightmares could claw at her again, she built her castle around herself, the walls rising toward the sky. Armies were at the door; she could hear them yelling and ramming the gate. They wouldn't get through. She would not let them.

And there was something else ... Something just outside her walls, keeping the intruders away. She could sense it, but couldn't name it.

Oh, yeah. Game on...
The guard's voice leaked through unchecked. And with it, fear made her shiver again.

A bow appeared in Dara's hand. Fear turned to resolve.

Not by her doing. Some other power guided her. She raced up the stairs to the battlements and beheld her enemy. One man. Just one man stared back up at her. He had the face of the guard, Blanc, and the voice of legions.

One man. One man...

One man you can fight.

Dara put an arrow to her bow, drew it back, and let the arrow fly. Bastard would sprout a field of them by the time she was done.

She couldn't see or hear what was going on around her physical self, but she could still feel Tristan on top of her.

Dara knew he had to make this convincing enough to make Blanc back off. He shifted over her, mimicking the movements of sex. He grasped one of her wrists, brought it up to the edge of the bed over her head where her other hand rested.

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Blood Moons

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In her vision, Dara was fighting back; she was winning.

"That's it, lass,"
Hunt praised, and a sense of triumph filled her.

Until his perceptions somehow slipped into her consciousness and she heard the doorway zap as the force field disengaged. Blanc was inside the cell. Her inner vision clouded and she lost hold of her castle fantasy. There was no more castle. She was back in the cell and she was ... Hunt.

Dara saw through his eyes; heard with his ears.

"Fuck off," he spat, faking a groan.

Blanc sneered and drawled, "I'll have my turn. I can wait."

She felt his indecision. Hunt could watch two minds, but he couldn't affect both. It was either stay with Dara and shield her, or risk taking on Blanc.

He stayed with Dara.

Reality faded again into a fractured version of her fantasy, but Hunt's voice trailed behind.
"If you make me stop, you'll
regret it."

A savage voice, full of hatred and aggression. Dara squirmed beneath Hunt, her illusion giving way again, this time to her own perceptions. The guard was less than three feet from the bunk. Too close. An involuntary shiver ran through her. She knew Hunt felt it, and his control—which seemed to be volatile at the best of times—slipped a little more.

"Dead bastard standing!"
he hissed all around her.

Dara heard the angry growl that built up in his throat, softened at the last moment so that it came out as a sound of pleasure. Blanc would never know how close he was to being 61

Blood Moons

by Alianne Donnelly

ripped apart. Dara knew, and it made her brave.
Enemy of
my enemy is my friend.
As far as friends went, Tristan Hunt now looked indestructible. She stopped fighting, made herself relax beneath him. His muscles bunched and his hold on her loosened, readying to let go completely and turn on Blanc.

Better to crush the guard's skull than her wrists...

Dara let go of her vision, needing to see this through.

Tristan seemed to be waiting for something. He was keeping up the pretense, moving over her like they were really having sex, but his mind was elsewhere.

"Hurry the fuck up, will you?" Blanc demanded. "I don't have all night." Dara had opened herself to other minds again. She could sense him shifting his weight to the other foot. He rearranged his crotch, blatantly fondling himself in the process as he watched the two of them on the bunk. He was working himself up into a lather. All this was just turning him on even more.

Dara made a sound and quickly retreated, somehow closing herself in a loop between her own mind and Tristan's.

She felt the aggression, the need to rip the guard's head off then and there. But Tristan breathed through it, pulled his lips back into a smile that she could feel. A vicious snarl. He groaned again. "Ah, but I do," he informed Blanc with easy arrogance, thrusting his hips forward for emphasis.

Dara gasped. Not with fear, but shock. Tristan's hand pinned both of hers, but his grip was gentle. His breath teased her hair at her temple. She was trapped, completely at his mercy, and she ...
liked
it.

Enemy of my enemy is still dangerous.

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Blood Moons

by Alianne Donnelly

He moved over her and, despite all reason, her body responded. What was wrong with her? She should be terrified—she
was.
She could still sense Blanc in the cell, but with Tristan shielding her it seemed as if he wasn't even real.

And Tristan! Dara could feel his muscles bulging, a terrifying reminder of what he was capable of. Yet he wasn't hurting her.

He
didn't frighten her.

Tristan moved, and her back wanted to arch, even though there was no room for any kind of movement. The blanket imprisoned her legs and she wanted it gone, wanted to cradle the body over hers.

What was this, some kind of mind control? Dara recognized Tristan's presence in her mind, shielding her, soothing her. But her thoughts were her own. He wasn't manipulating her into feeling this way.
"Won't hurt you,"
he was saying, and all she wanted to say back was,
Touch me
.

This wasn't normal. How could she be turned on?

And then his hand was gone from her mouth and he was kissing her. Her mind filled with a confusing vision of incomplete shapes and sharp sensation. Fantasies coming to life in the spur of the moment; unfinished but all the more potent because of it. Dara felt weightless in that instant, drunk. She felt him suck in a breath, and felt his surprise mirror her own.

Tristan shifted just a little, kissed her briefly, just a small taste, observing the change in himself. His mind was calm, focused—the burst of rage was gone, but the strength remained. He was completely in control of his body for the 63

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first time since this whole mess with the experiments started.

Not only that, there was nothing else invading his thoughts.

There were no voices slipping through his shields—they held without any effort on his part. It was as if he'd lost his telepathy in that kiss.

But he hadn't.

He shared
Dara's
mind as easily as if the two were not separate at all. Tristan felt her surprise and confusion, and he shared it. He knew she sensed him in her mind, as he sensed her in his, but the feeling was not unpleasant.

His mouth moved over hers, his tongue slipping between her lips to seek the warmth beyond. She matched him, kissing him back for a moment of complete abandon. He felt her fear dissipate as she let go and simply felt. Tristan released her wrists and twined his fingers with hers. He moved over her again, this time in a long, slow thrust.

Her lips were sweet as honey. Tristan kissed her harder, deeper, coaxing and demanding a response. Soaking it up like long-lost sunshine. He let go of one of her hands to get beneath her shirt, craving the feel of her skin.

As soon as she was free, she grabbed his hair and threw a leg over him to keep him in place. Tristan smiled against her mouth and curled his hips languidly.
Greedy little thing.
Her shirt came up to the edge of her bra, but would not move farther, unless he gave up the feel of her breasts rubbing against him every time he moved.
Won't.
He contented himself with caressing her side and back, drinking up the little moaning noises she wasn't even aware of making. Reveling in the way she raised her hips to meet his next thrust.

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Blood Moons

by Alianne Donnelly

Sharing her mind, he savored every reaction. Dara could scarcely catch her breath and she didn't want to, afraid he'd stop. Tristan thrilled to know he'd brought her to this. She let herself go completely. There were no shields or barriers between their minds, and he was feeling what she felt; got his own pleasure returned to him, amplified.

They were both dizzy with it and craving more. Her leg around him was clenched so tight, trying to make him do more, but he wouldn't.

"Why?"
she demanded desperately. Dara rocked her hips to his, wordlessly urging him on. It was all he could do not to give in.

Tristan lost track of time and everything else, caught up in that kiss, wanting it to last forever. Had anything ever felt this good? Dara arched to him and he shuddered.
Too far. Too
fast.
She didn't care about that now, drowning in a mad swirl of adrenaline and lust, but she would in the morning.

She did it again and he wanted to take the invitation—

Christ
, how he wanted to.
Just take the free pass, forget
about everything for a while.

How was he any different from Blanc?

Tristan shuddered and broke the kiss, then dropped his head to the pillow next to her, cheek to cheek. He could feel her heart beating against his so fast, but her mind was completely open. Completely trusting. She squirmed beneath him and he clamped his hand down on her leg. "Hold still," he said.

"Don't want to," she said wickedly.

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Blood Moons

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Telepath,
Tristan reminded himself and raised his head to look her in the eye. She could see his mind just as he saw hers, but she couldn't see the full distinction between the two.

She knew he didn't want her to hold still either, and it was changing her own feelings. But it wasn't her. Beneath the intensity of this was still a kernel of fear. She was still frightened and, in trying to escape it, she embraced the one thing that could overcome it. Lust.

Dara
needed
this.

Though she might end up hating herself for it in the morning.

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66

Blood Moons

by Alianne Donnelly

Dara stared up at Tristan, meeting his green gaze. She was so close, her body aching, weeping for release. For him.

She didn't understand it and didn't want to. It was just the two of them now. The guard was gone. Out of patience and out of time. There was nothing keeping Tristan from finishing what he'd started.

But he wouldn't. He looked as confused as she felt. With her mind merged so completely with his, she shifted her focus and looked at herself through his eyes. What she saw surprised her. She ... fascinated him. In Tristan's eyes, she was a creature of grace. He saw everything, good and bad, blended in a way that yielded something utterly beautiful—

her.

He saw her as a ray of light and color in this dark place. A breath of fresh air, scented with—she blushed—ecstasy.

Tristan regarded her as a treasure that was all his own. To admire and gain strength from; to keep safe from other, greedy hands.

The discovery was so unexpected it took some of the edge off the frighteningly intense lust of a second ago. She still felt drawn to him, but it was ... different. Astonished, she looked deeper. That she even could, spoke more than anything about how rattled both of them were about what just happened.

Dara wasn't above exploiting it a little.

She let herself fall into his gaze, into his mind.

67

Blood Moons

by Alianne Donnelly

There were shadows and ghosts, faces from memories,
distorted like reflections in funhouse mirrors. Whispers and
voices blended together around her, incomprehensible words
in a language she'd never heard before. As she slowly
adjusted to her surroundings, she realized there were ...

pathways like vague, dark alleys all around her.

It was a maze of sorts. Each path would lead to a different
place; different memories and perceptions. Easy enough to
follow. And so easy to get lost in.

For the moment, she simply soaked in what she could. She
could hear a sort of rhythm to the strange voices. They were
memories, but not of people. It was something Dara
recognized easily—passages from books. Poetry? Not quite,
but very close.
So the man had read a book.
And it seemed
as though these passages held some meaning for him, but
she couldn't tell why.

More faces appeared, these with sharp teeth and hollow
eyes. They disappeared just as quickly, leaving behind
residual anger and disgust. She turned away from them,
shuddering in mind and body. To hate someone that much...

Dara heard a woman's voice somewhere and frowned. She
turned to follow it.

Tristan must have realized what she was doing, because
he started to retreat. The pathways dissolved one by one,
cutting off her options, including the one she'd chosen.

Reality began bleeding into her vision...

Dara was back in the cell, but there was still a connection between her mind and Tristan's. She didn't want to let this go 68

Blood Moons

by Alianne Donnelly

yet. There was a kind of relief in sharing minds; knowing that he was like her and understood.

Knowing that he'd just put himself at risk to protect her, when he knew nothing about her. He hadn't asked her to trust him. Not in so many words. Tristan probably just figured she didn't have another choice. He might be right. But right now, trusting him didn't seem like the lesser of two evils anymore. It seemed more like salvation.