Concentric Circles (23 page)

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Authors: Aithne Jarretta

BOOK: Concentric Circles
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The memory of Meekal’s voice wafted over her. “Haven’t you ever heard a stone scream or purr?”

Strange, the humming stones consoled her. She swallowed in an effort to push the sensations of separateness away. That’s what she felt from the moment Meekal said goodbye at the airport in Bristol. Deep-seated separateness. Her heartstrings pulled with powerful insistence.

Shayla passed through the narrow crevice and turned to the right. She pulled herself up to the stone top, moving across the leaf covered rock until she stood on the center, like the summit of a kingdom, separate and apart from all else.

Scanning the park, she could see through the trees, down the rough side of the hill to glimpses of sparkling water moving north. The rumble of distant traffic mingled with the sounds of chattering chipmunks, laughing hikers, rushing water and purring stones. She used Meekal’s term in her mind and inhaled deeply.

“You need to come down from there, miss.”

Damn
. Shayla looked down at the park ranger. Dressed in his uniform, he epitomized authority. “Yes sir.” She began her descent down the glacier carved stones to ground level.

“The rocks are no place for you to be climbing.” He paused, narrowing his eyes once she arrived on the path. “You’ve been here before.”

The urge to kick something stirred.
Damn nimbus
. She could not sneak through life with it. Men always noticed and remembered her hair.

Dappled shade through the overhead branches left lines across the ranger’s face, but Shayla knew he obviously expected an answer.

Shayla resisted the urge to spin on her heel and vanish. “I’ve been away for awhile. Just saying hello.”
And goodbye
. She would not reveal that to the ranger.

“I guess that’s understandable, but you don’t want it to be your last visit.” The stern look he gave her served as a blatant reminder of hikers who had fallen in the past.

She remained silent and immobile.
You don’t know the half of it, buddy
.

The ranger motioned for her to move toward the path leading down to the water.

With reluctance, she left, feeling his eyes on her back. When the steep downward path turned around a copse of closely growing trees, Shayla stepped off the trail once more. She glanced around, and then raised her eyes to scan the landscape above. No sign of the ranger. “Berk’s probably sitting right where I was standing. Ugh!”

A quick lift of her leg and she was over the barrier and on the old trail, closer to the river’s edge. Now that she was on the lower path, she wanted to walk next to the water. With luck, someone else would distract the eagle-eyed ranger.

The surrounding landscape of Mother Nature’s embrace began initiating her with a sense of calm. The sound of rushing water caressed her into a thoughtful mood. Allowing unhappiness and fear to rule her had gone on long enough. Shayla stepped up onto the wood deck facing the falls. She missed the days before its intrusive presence when she could sit on the large stones for hours basking in the summer sun. She sighed. The crashing waterfall filled her with deep longing.

She spun her head, scanning the deck and hillside. No one around. Good. Facing the water once more, Shayla whispered, “I call upon Cerridwen, Warrior of Water, White Lady and Moon Goddess, I seek your great council this day.”

A mist of rising water spiraled. Shayla swallowed back her surprise when the White Lady appeared. Water glistened like diamonds around her in the fall sunshine.

“Hello, Shayla.”

A thrill went through Shayla. The White Lady’s voice sounded very American today.

The White Lady laughed. “I’m always here, Shayla.”

“What am I supposed to tell everyone?”

The White Lady gave her another smile and moved closer.

“I need to know what to say. I can’t just tell everyone I’m never coming back. My mom needs me. I love her and my friends.” Shayla set her jaw in obstinate resolve despite the calming resonance of nature surrounding her. She gripped the wood rail, waiting, its cooling presence grounding her.

“Their love is pure, Shayla. It will always be with you. You must have faith they were in your life for a reason. They will remain so. You are still thinking outside the essence of magic. You will be able to see your loved ones when you need to.”

A wrenching sob escaped. “Meekal. Will I have to leave him, too?” How could she be a guardian for Brenna and lover for Meekal? Shayla knew in her heart she wished for the simple things; love, marriage and kids.

Her hands held out as though in embrace, the White Lady answered, “Shayla, Meekal will never be far from you. Go home, my child, and prepare for your future. You have a great destiny. If you ever need anything, just call for me.”

Her knees shaking, Shayla whispered, “I’ll do what I can. You’ll always be there, for sure?”

“Of course. Blessed be, Shayla.”

She watched the White Lady evolve into a mist and then return to the rushing waters of the Cuyahoga River. She leaned on the wood rail and tried to expel the vast hole within her. “Isn’t love supposed to fill you up? I love Kal,” she whispered to the onrush of water.

 

* * * * * *

 

Shayla pushed her apartment door open with a sense of relief. Traffic had been atrocious between Cuyahoga Falls and her apartment in Tinker’s Creek.

Barb accosted her as soon as she stepped inside. “You didn’t tell me you met someone,” she whispered urgently.

Shayla’s eyes, drawn as if by a magnet, went to the slider leading to the back yard. The frilly curtains Barb insisted they purchase framed Meekal. Her heart stopped. “Kal.”

Meekal stepped into the kitchen, eyes trained on her.

“Why?” Shayla pulled him into a hug. “When did you get here?” she stopped speaking, planting her lips on his. She pulled away slightly, and then nuzzled his neck, inhaling his scent.

“Shay,” he said, “I decided to take a vacation myself. Hope you don’t mind.”

Barb cleared her throat.

Longing welled when Shayla stepped back holding his hand. “Barb, this is Meekal. We met in Glastonbury.”

“Nice to meet you.” Barb turned to Shayla, “Details. Spill.”

Meekal squeezed her hand, his thumb tracing over her new tattoo with loving tenderness.

Shayla resisted her sore lip and decided she needed to sit. She pulled a bar stool out and maneuvered for comfort. Meekal stood behind, hands resting on her shoulders. She leaned back into him, relishing the comfort of such a simple move.

Barb walked around the bar and pulled a paring knife out. Starting with an apple from the fruit bowl, she sliced. “I’m waiting.”

“I don’t know where to begin.” Shayla released a breath, unaware she held it.

Meekal squeezed her shoulders and began to massage.

Barb noticed, arching brows over angry eyes.

The awareness of Meekal’s hands soothed. “It happened really fast. Meekal’s family is Guardians of the Well. It was…”

Lips kissed her hair.

“…loveatfirstsight.” There, she said it. She held her breath, waiting for Barb’s reaction.

Barb stared at them.

“Barb.” Shayla worried she had not understood.

“You go across the pond. Fall in love and don’t even tell me? You fell for a Brit?” Barb’s voice raised an octave. She grabbed a banana and started decimating it, peel and all. “Best friends.” Chop, chop. “Don’t even tell me.”

“Well, I was gonna tell you. Besides—”

“This is why you’ve been avoiding me since you got back. You haven’t even gone to see your mom yet. I know, because she called while you were gone.”

“Barb, will you let me finish.”

“For all you know he could be a con man or something. A Brit?” The knife came down hard on the cutting board.

Shayla reached across and took the paring knife from her friend. “Barb, will you let me finish?” She held Barb’s angry gaze.

Barb set her jaw, glared at Meekal and crossed her arms. Finally, she nodded curtly as she stood ramrod stiff.

“Technically, Meekal is American. He was born in Salem, Massachusetts and his father was American.” Shayla bit her lower lip. “Barb, I love you. I need you to accept this. It’s not going to be easy. Please.”

Barb’s moisture filled eyes moved to Meekal. Her scowl grew. “Do you really love her?”

“Yes.”

“Well, you better because if you hurt her, I’ll have to kill you.”

“Barb!”

Barb huffed.

Despite telling her best friend the news, she was still tense. She pulled her lower lip in without biting. It stung from days of nervous gnawing. She brushed her tongue across the sore spot.

Barb froze. “There's more.”

“Yes,” she answered. With deliberate slowness, she looked down at the decimated banana. “You know about my magic,” Shayla said.

“Your mom.”

“It goes beyond my mom,” Shayla whispered. She reached forward, moved her hand in a spiral motion, and then pulled away from the whole banana. “This is who I am, Barb. I have to be who I am.”

Barb reached for the banana. “Shayla,” she said pointing the banana at her, “I’m not the one you have to convince.”

 

* * * * * *

 

Shayla guided Meekal past the couch in the great-room, down the hall and into her bedroom. She felt slight apprehension at his reaction. Her bedroom epitomized femininity, done up in blues and cream.

“Nice.”

His voice sparked arousal. She met his eyes. “Thanks,” she whispered. It caught in her throat.

Meekal’s face disappeared when he pulled his sweater over his head. Shoes and jeans were next.

She began disrobing slowly, keeping her gaze away. It wasn’t shyness. It was more about waiting until she could meet his eyes on an equal state of undress. Finally finished, her head came up. Her breath hitched.

The moonlight shining through the window on Meekal’s hair made it glimmer with blue-black iridescence. Shayla’s pulse quickened at the desire expressed on his face. “Kal.”

“Aye, love?”

“Why’d you come?”

“Do you really need to ask?”

Husky British accent wafting over her, combined with the power of his naked form, Shayla stared. She gulped, still not accustomed to his beautiful masculinity. She tried to swallow the emotions that rose, sticking in her throat. “It must be the bond. I missed you so much. I felt like my heart was twisted. Did you feel it?”

“Aye, that I did.”

The place in her chest where her heart resided expanded. Allowing her gaze to fall, liquid heat escaped between her thighs. The nest of black curls around the base of his cock called to her most primal senses.

Sensuality permeated the feminine space of her bedroom. He moved closer, voice filled with desire. “Like what you see?”

A bubble of need rose in the form of a moan. She breathed in his scent, and nuzzled closer. Her fingers moved of their own volition, questing for those curly black hairs. The springy feel between her fingers, enflamed her.

Meekal’s cock jumped at the contact, eager for reunion. Entwining his hands in her hair, he pulled her closer. “Me, too,” he whispered just before he captured her lips.

She palmed him, moving her fingers in playful tapping, like pressing the keys of a piano.

Moaning, Meekal breathed across Shayla’s cheek, journeying to her ear. “The bed would be good right about now.”

Shayla turned them, landing on the bed with a soft caress of a wind-riding breeze.

“I do love the way you play with that.” He interspersed his speech with hungry nibbles, working his way down to her breasts.

“It’s fun now that I can do it easily.” The excitement of magically traveling across the room with an aroused Meekal, took her breath and speech away. That and Meekal’s mouth plundering hers.

Meekal delved within as though seeking her very essence. Tongues dancing in heated bliss, he journeyed to the juncture of her thighs.

She arched to his hand, pushing with rising pleasure. She wanted to scream. Instead, she panted, “Kal, gotta have you.”

Meekal’s finger circled twice, and then probed. “In a hurry?” He bit her breast lightly, talking around her aroused rosebud.

Shayla shivered. “Yes.
Please
.”

His tongue spiraled her other breast. Meekal chuckled, sending vibrations to her womb. “No.”

“Arrgh!”

Meekal nuzzled, shaking with laughter. His fingers still teasing and pleasuring, he pulled up to look at her. Flicking his finger, and then gently spinning her opening, he whispered, “Why are ye always in such a hurry?” He quirked a black brow, waiting for an answer.

She writhed, pushing against his hand in urgency.

Meekal pulled away.

The loss brought forth a roaring groan. Meekal’s eyes, almost black from desire, laughed at her.

More teasing, his fingers moved to his mouth. He sucked them with exuberance. “Yumm. Nectar of the gods.”

Adrenaline surging, Shayla rolled them. Coming astride, she straddled, pushing down hard, swallowing him within. A moan of triumph rumbled up as his length filled her.

Laughter transformed into a growl of feral desire. Grasping her hips, he pulled her down hard, thrusting, to her deepest desires.

Shayla threw her head back in ecstasy, breathing out at the pleasure of him sliding through her moisture. Rocking, she met his thrusts hungrily. She clenched around him, holding him with avid longing.

Meekal rolled them. Pulling her mouth to his, he plunged his tongue in tandem with the movement of his cock.

Each stroke enflamed her more. Shayla had never dreamed such ecstasy existed. She moved with fervent urgency beneath him, savoring his flavorful skin with little laps of her tongue.

Meekal growled, plunging with fierce momentum.

Waves, beginning at her center, sent rushing tremors through Shayla. Grasping black silky locks tightly, she called out, “Kal!” Knowing only bliss, she rode the heady vibrations of orgasm with electrifying surrender.

Blissful afterglow enhanced the moonbeams coming in through the window. Shayla sighed, moving her fingers in gentle circles.

He nuzzled, purring in bliss.

An earth-shaking giggle erupted. “Barb is going to tease us tomorrow. I believe you screamed the loudest.”

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