Authors: Kate Douglas
Crystalfire (12 page)
Willow blinked and then squinted at the bright shaft of light coming through the bedroom window—light that was gently filtered through red ...
hair
?
hair
?
Well, that explained the reason it was so hard to breathe. Taron was still sprawled across her body. His long, red hair had somehow come undone and covered her face in a soft blanket of silken strands. His head rested on the pillow beside hers, and one big palm covered her left breast.
She clenched her inner muscles and felt his cock swell in response. “No,” she said, laughing.
He raised his head and blinked owlishly, his green eyes hazy, his lips as swollen from her kisses as her mouth felt from his.
“No, what?” He leaned close and kissed her.
“No more sex. Not now.”
He grinned at her, a slow, lazy smile that sent a spark of pure lust racing through her body. Lust that settled somewhere between her legs, right around that spot that was beginning to stretch in reaction to his growing length and girth. “Are you absolutely certain?”
He glanced toward the window and blinked as sunlight caught him. “It’s not dark yet.”
“It’s late afternoon. We’ve been asleep all day.” She pushed at his shoulders in a futile attempt to move him off of her.
“I don’t remember sleeping all that much. I think we were ...” He tilted his hips forward.
She moaned. How could he keep pulling this response from her? She’d lost track of how many times they’d made love. Had sex. Whatever he wanted to call it.
Taron wasn’t kidding when he said he was a coward. There was no way this guy would ever fall in love. Not with that fortune teller’s prediction weighing so heavily on his mind. She’d sensed it in him, the fear that he might care for Willow more than he should.
No matter. She’d never expected the chance to have even this much of a real life. Hoping for the one she loved to love her in return was probably too much to ask.
She remembered how Eddy had fought loving Dax. Knowing Dax would be gone at the end of one week had hung over the two of them from the first day they met, but it hadn’t stopped them.
Knowing Taron could never allow himself to love her wasn’t going to stop Willow, either. As if she had a choice ...
He kissed her again. Goodness, but she loved the way his mouth felt against hers. Loved the look in his eyes, the taste of his lips, the feelings his kisses kindled deep inside. There wasn’t a choice, really. No choice at all as the tip of his tongue swept over her lips and then tangled with her tongue. Sighing against his mouth, she gave in to desire, and more.
She gave in to the powerful feelings she had for this man, in spite of his flaws. She refused to fear what they had. Refused to give him the power to frighten her away from something that felt so perfect.
Taron of Libernus could hide from love all he wanted, but he couldn’t stop Willow from loving him. Nope. She was a real woman now, with a real woman’s desires.
A woman’s needs, and they were needs that Taron appeared capable of filling quite well. All except that very important one, she thought. The emotional one. Just then, his fingers found the curve of her breast and she arched uncontrollably toward his touch. He bit down on her nipple, none too gently, and she groaned, shivering with the rush of sensation that coursed from her breast to her womb. Her thoughts scrambled with the explosion of pleasure.
He was everywhere, kissing her, nibbling and biting, and licks of fire had her writhing and twisting, begging for more. Begging for everything except what she really wanted, really needed. Oh damn, but everything would be so perfect if he weren’t so afraid of love, but he’d been upfront from the beginning. She couldn’t ask him to give what he’d already admitted was impossible.
As he filled her once more, as their bodies surged together in a most perfect dance, the two of them as perfectly matched as any two lovers could be, her real woman-sized heart broke a little more. She wondered—a bit hopelessly—if she might not be able to love enough for both of them.
No. She knew, without any doubt, that would never be enough.
“It’s going to be dark soon.”
Taron glanced up from his meal and realized Willow no longer sat across from him. She stood at the counter and peered out the window above the kitchen sink. “Then you need to eat,” he said. “We should be out there now, searching for Ed.”
She turned and studied him for a moment. She’d changed today. Something in her appearance was different from the woman she’d been this morning. Had sex changed her? Was there something physical that happened to a woman after she made love—no—after she had sex?
Love was not going to be part of their relationship. He’d promised Willow, and he’d promised himself. Taron might be a coward, but he was also a man of his word.
Willow, though ... what was it? This morning she’d looked like a sprite in a woman’s body. Now, she looked like she was all woman. Her eyes studied him as if she knew things Taron would never understand. It made him uneasy, to find himself under such close scrutiny from a woman with whom he’d been intimate.
From a woman who now dominated his thoughts, took his breath away, and, if he wasn’t really careful, could easily steal his heart.
He felt strange. More settled and yet, in some ways, more frightened than he’d ever been in his life. Fighting demonkind hadn’t scared him this much. Willow was ... amazing. Looking at her made his chest feel tight. Made it hard to concentrate.
They might have diffused the power of the elephant in the parlor, but something else had taken its place. Was he the one who had changed? Was this what his sword had objected to? Did the blade know that intimacy with Willow could somehow change more than merely the dynamics between the two of them? That it would change Taron?
If only he knew what it was. When he looked at Willow, he felt stronger. More determined, as if there was nothing he could not accomplish, no demon too powerful to fight.
And yet his feelings for her unmanned him, and the prophecy teased the edges of his mind.
He shoved it away. He didn’t love Willow. He wouldn’t love her, and that was the one thing that had definitely changed. It wasn’t his own heart he worried about anymore. He no longer feared for his own peace of mind. He’d thought a lot about the prophecy as he’d lain beside Willow in that wonderful period of post-coital bliss.
Unendurable pain could mean only one thing—if he loved her, he would lose her. That was a risk Taron wasn’t willing to take.
Only now he wasn’t worried about the foolish risk to his own heart—it was the risk to Willow that was unacceptable. Suffering unendurable pain meant he would still be alive to suffer—but the only thing that could cause such pain would be if something terrible happened to Willow.
He would not love her. He could never put Willow’s life at risk for such a selfish reason as love.
He sealed his feelings away. He could do this. He was Lemurian. They’d learned millennia ago to suffer in silence.
Willow nodded and sighed. “I know.”
He started. Had she heard his convoluted thoughts? His heart settled back to its normal rate as she went on.
“I’m not very hungry, though. Anyway, I’m trying to think of where we should look for Ed. The only place I could come up with is the old library building. That’s where the demon used to hang out during the day, when he was using a stone gargoyle as an avatar. It’s an old building, abandoned now, but I imagine there’s a way a demon could get inside, and if a demon can get in, so can we.”
She walked back to the table, sat across from him, and stared at her plate. When she finally raised her head, she was smiling. “At least it’s a place to start, right?”
He nodded. “After we take care of the rest of the demons. That’s the first order of business—getting rid of the demon king’s energy source.”
“I’m worried about Ed.” She gnawed on her lower lip for a minute and stared toward the window. “I know we need to take care of the lesser demons first, but I guess I just want to know he’s all right.”
Taron merely shrugged. As if anyone possessed by a powerful demon could be all right, but he didn’t need to say it. Willow knew the danger. She knew more about all of this than he did, had more experience actually fighting demons than he could claim, but this probably wasn’t the best time to remind her of that, of the two of them, she was the more qualified to call herself a demonslayer.
He worried about her, about the effect sex might have had on her. She’d definitely changed, and that perfect smile of hers looked almost brittle. He hoped the two of them hadn’t made a horrible mistake, but there was really no way to know.
None at all.
It was already too late to undo what they’d done. And when Taron thought back to the day he’d spent with Willow in his arms, with his body buried in hers, he knew there was nothing in this world or any other that could make him want to change what he’d finally experienced. What the two of them had shared.
Nothing at all.
Chapter 9
The sun was slipping below the western horizon by the time Willow and Taron left Ed’s house. They stepped out on the front porch and Willow took a deep breath of the pine-scented air. “It’s so beautiful here. Peaceful. It’s hard to imagine the terrible threats we’ve faced, the number of demons we’ve fought in this little town.”
Taron didn’t answer. In fact, he seemed a bit distracted. She wondered if he was thinking about the day they’d just spent, about all the new things both of them had experienced. She’d had to force herself to stop reliving every touch, every kiss, every sensation. Now that she knew what she and Taron were capable of doing together, she knew she’d never get enough of making love—just as she’d never get enough of him.
Except he’d been adamant about this being a one-time-only experience—though they’d definitely done it more than once! She figured he must have lumped all the times they’d made love into one event. That had to be a male way of looking at things, but as far as Taron was concerned, it had merely been a chance to satisfy their curiosity. It most definitely was not something they were going to do again, according to Taron. The risks were too great, he’d said. The danger of falling in love wasn’t worth the pleasure they found with one another.
He’d certainly spent a lot of time trying to convince himself of something that Willow thought was absolutely stupid. She’d wanted to tell him about Eddy and Dax, how they’d been brave enough to fall in love even knowing Dax would be gone after seven days. They hadn’t let it stop them, but then she realized how selfish that was.
She wasn’t the one facing unendurable pain. She couldn’t ask Taron to just put himself out there, knowing it would end badly. That wasn’t fair at all.
Still, she wished they could talk about it. Maybe tonight. They had a long walk if they went all the way to the cemetery, or even just into town to check on the old library building.
She sighed and gazed about the quiet neighborhood. It was hard to look at the beautiful old homes and the huge, stately trees and imagine demons invading, but the risk was higher now than it had been in days.
Even harder to realize that Ed Marks had been possessed and was out there even now with his body under demon control. At least it was almost dark. Demons would be stirring soon and they could finally do something about what had happened to Ed.
“Hey! You two. What are you doing in Ed’s house?”
She glanced up. Damn. That grumpy old man who lived across the street was yelling at them.
She knew Mr. Puccini, or at least Bumper did. He wouldn’t have a clue who she was, and the man was a certified pain in the butt, according to Eddy. Willow plastered a big smile on her face and waved at him.
“What’re you kids doing in Ed’s house? Where’s Ed?” He leaned out over his front porch railing and glowered at them.
Taron glanced at Willow. “Who the nine hells is he?”
Willow grabbed his hand and squeezed his fingers.
Don’t worry. Just leave it to me
. “Hello.” She stepped off Ed’s porch, dragging Taron across the street along with her.
Don’t worry. Just leave it to me
. “Hello.” She stepped off Ed’s porch, dragging Taron across the street along with her.
Make sure your sword’s hidden,
she said. “Hello. You must be Mr. Puccini. Ed told us about you.”
she said. “Hello. You must be Mr. Puccini. Ed told us about you.”
The man’s eyebrows shot up. “What’d he tell ya?”
Willow smiled, turned on the charm and kept walking. She stopped on the sidewalk in front of the man’s house with Taron beside her. “He said you’ve been neighbors since Eddy was little, that you keep an eye on his place whenever he’s away.”
Mr. Puccini grunted. Willow kept smiling. “Ed had to leave rather quickly last night, but he’ll be back in a couple of days. I’m Willow and this is my friend, Taron. We’re staying at the house while Ed’s gone.”
“He never needed a house sitter before.”
Willow slanted a fairly overblown glance to her right and then her left before gazing directly at the old man. Eddy was right—he really was grumpy. And suspicious, too, but she couldn’t blame him. She lowered her voice and looked directly at him when she said, “You know what’s been going on, Mr. Puccini. There have been some really strange things happening in town. Ed wasn’t comfortable leaving his home unguarded.”
Mr. Puccini folded his arms across his chest. “I don’t blame him for that, but I don’t understand Ed, bringing all these new people in to our neighborhood. How do you know him?”
“We’re friends of Eddy’s.” She smiled again, but the old fart was obviously still suspicious.
“That’s what I was afraid of. She’s a nice girl, but she knows too many weirdos.” He glared at both of them and grunted again, but before he could say anything, Taron raised his hands and passed them in front of Mr. Puccini’s face.
His eyes glazed over. After a moment he smiled like a serene little cherub. Nodding slowly, he said, “It’s good of you to watch the place for Ed. I’m sure he really appreciates it.”
Taron stuffed his hands in his pockets. “He does, Mr. Puccini, and we’re glad to help him. You have a good evening.”
Still smiling, the old guy waved them off. Taron grabbed Willow’s hand, and this time he was the one dragging her down the street.
Once they’d put a few houses between them and the neighbor, she laughed. “I forgot about that cool Lemurian mind trick. Alton already used it on Mr. Puccini a couple of times.”
Taron slowed his steps. “He did? I’m glad you told me. It loses effectiveness over time if you reuse it on the same person. We may need to zap him again in a couple of days.”
Willow tilted her head and stared at Taron for a long moment. “We may not have to worry about it in a couple of days. If the demon king is still alive, it will probably mean we’ve lost.”
“Don’t even say it.”
Taron grabbed her hand and held on tightly. He was right, though. They didn’t need to borrow trouble.
They already had more than enough.
Willow headed down the quiet street as if she knew exactly where she was headed. Taron tugged her to a stop. “Any idea where we’re going?”
“Yes, actually. To the cemetery first, if our job is to destroy demons tonight. Demons seem to be drawn to the place. Something about all the ceramic statues, I imagine, but we need to find out where the lesser demons are hanging out, since they’ll attract the demon king. Your sword said it’s more important that we find them first, before the demon king does.”
“How are we going to find them? This is a big world. It’s not enclosed the way Lemuria is. They could be anywhere.”
Willow let out a big breath. “I’m hoping Bumper and I can still sense them. She was good at it.”
“Well ...”
I’m still good at it, Taron. I’m paying attention, and Willow’s nose is pretty good. Not as good as mine but ...
“See? Even Bumper recognizes that she’s not going to have her animal senses. You’re working with a human nose.” And it was such a perfect nose, set just above those perfect lips, and ...
“Powered by Bumper’s doggy brain,” Willow said, “and she is a very smart dog, right, Bumper?”
I am, Willow. I really am. Honest, Taron. Don’t worry.
“See? C’mon, Taron. Relax. We’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, right.” He held on to Willow’s hand because he honestly couldn’t stop touching her, and they continued along the street. He wore one of Ed’s caps on his head that Willow said would help hide the dark red color of his hair. He hadn’t realized it wasn’t a natural color for humans. At least Alton’s clothing helped him blend in, and as the night grew darker, his hair didn’t stand out quite as much.
He didn’t want to worry about how he looked. Didn’t want to worry about demons or the demon king. He had enough to worry about with the beautiful blonde hanging on to his hand.
What in the nine hells was he going to do about Willow? They’d made love all day long, but instead of getting her out of his system, instead of satisfying his curiosity, he wanted her more than ever. He’d never been driven by his libido before, but it sure seemed to be in charge now. It was as if there’d been a part of him caged all these years, but now that wild creature was finally free, and there was no putting him back inside.
All he could think of was Willow naked.
He had that amazing visual so stuck in his mind that he couldn’t have shaken it loose if he’d wanted to.
He did not want to lose it. Not the memory of Willow with her head thrown back and her body arched, her nipples tight with arousal, her thick blond hair in tumbled curls about her naked shoulders. He still saw her with her lips parted and eyes closed as her body trembled in orgasm.
He wanted Willow’s wet heat surrounding him, her inner muscles rippling along his hard length and her heels digging into his butt as she surged against him, all warm and willing woman. Wanted it so much he had to force himself to continue walking, to concentrate on the real reason they were here.
He’d always been so single-minded. He’d never before had a problem concentrating on the issue at hand. He should be thinking of demons, of how he and Willow could possibly defeat the demon king. How they were going to rescue Ed. He shouldn’t have thoughts of a naked Willow filling his head. Shouldn’t be worrying what would happen the next time they slept with each other—or didn’t.
The next time they crawled into bed together. He’d told her they wouldn’t have sex again, and he’d meant it. At least until the words had left his mouth. Sex was the last thing he should be thinking about right now. The future of all worlds was at stake, and all he could think of was Willow.
Willow naked. Willow kissing his mouth, her hands wrapped around his cock, her eyes shining with need. The demon king was somewhere nearby and his long-silent sword had finally spoken and said just enough to scare the crap out of him, and what was he thinking?
That he wanted to turn around, go back to Ed’s house and make love to the woman holding his hand.
Being told it was time to prepare for a final battle wasn’t the way to inspire a guy’s confidence, so why was he telling himself that sex with Willow was more important than saving the world from demonkind?
That was what he should be worried about. Demons and upcoming battles and whether or not he and Willow were going to be able to rescue Ed Marks, not whether or not he’d get Willow naked, whether or not he could somehow justify making love to her again.
And again.
Suddenly Willow stopped and held a finger to her lips.
Do you smell that? Sulfur. Bumper agrees. There are demons nearby.
Do you smell that? Sulfur. Bumper agrees. There are demons nearby.
They’d left the quiet neighborhood and he hadn’t even noticed. His first time in a town in Earth’s dimension and he wasn’t paying any attention at all. He needed to be focused on the job at hand, for now, anyway. Nine hells, what had happened to his analytical mind?
He squeezed Willow’s hand so she’d think he’d been paying closer attention.
Any idea where?
Any idea where?
Gazing about, he realized they were walking along the main street through town. Small shops lined the road, but it was the dinner hour and most businesses appeared closed for the night.
Willow didn’t answer him. Instead, she took his hand and tugged Taron toward a small store with a sign that read EVERGREEN HARDWARE AND GARDEN.
There was a display behind an iron fence that drew her attention—birdbaths and concrete planters and stone animals of all shapes and sizes. Taron stared at the figurines and then turned to Willow. “I don’t see anything different. What are you ... ?”
“Shh.” Again with the finger over her lips. “Look at their eyes,” she whispered. “What do you see?”
How in the nine hells had he missed this? The scent of sulfur in the air had been the first clue, but the plain, gray stone figurines had glowing eyes. There was life behind them—demonic life. He glanced at the tall fence locking the public out and the creatures in. “What now?”
“I want to try something.”
Willow held her hands out and pointed her long, slender fingers at the creatures. Taron thought of Dax, with fire and ice shooting out of his fingertips, but this wasn’t quite the same.
Willow shot blue sparkles. The same little blue sparkles that had trailed along behind her when she flew about as a tiny sprite poured from her fingertips. They didn’t damage the figurine, but they must have really pissed off the demon inside.
Black, oily mist shot out of a stone cat and headed right for Willow. Taron drew his sword and caught the wraith with his crystal blade. It disappeared in a small flash of light and a whole lot of stink.
“Perfect.” Willow glanced to either side. So did Taron. He didn’t see anyone around, but in a town this small, it was like they just rolled up the streets at dusk. Willow shot sparkles at the second stone statue, and then the next.
Taron caught every demon. There were seven altogether. Willow turned around with a huge grin on her face, held her fingers up and blew on the tips, as if putting out flames.
Taron couldn’t help himself. He shoved his sword in his scabbard, grabbed Willow around the waist and kissed her.
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