Dreams Made Flesh (16 page)

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Authors: Anne Bishop

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General

BOOK: Dreams Made Flesh
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His limbs felt warm, relaxed, heavy. His cock, felt warm and heavy. Desire softly heated his blood, sharpened his senses to the feel and smell of a female. He drained the goblet, then used Craft to send it gliding on air back to the table.

Karla's goblet followed a few moments later.

"What can I do to help you?" she asked, looking at him with lightly glazed eyes.

"Kiss me." The feel of her mouth on his, hesitant, exploring. The feel of her body as his hands caressed her. Desire, thick and golden, swam in his blood as his hand cupped her breast. Her tongue in his mouth… Tart and sweet, just like the woman.

He picked her up and took her to the bed, vanishing her nightgown as he set her down on the sheets. Vanishing his own clothes, he stretched out beside her, putting an Ebon-gray shield around his left hand and forearm before he pinned her wrists above her head. Being a Black Widow as well as a Queen, she had a snake tooth beneath the ring finger of her right hand. He didn't need her pumping venom into him in a moment of panic.

Her body responded to him as he kissed, caressed, and suckled, but he felt a tension rising in her. She'd fight him when the time came. Even knowing he was doing this for her, she'd still fight him…unless she was sufficiently distracted.

There were different ways of protecting a witch during that moment when her life hung by a hymenal thread, but this way…Yes. If she trusted him enough to let him in, she'd be captured, distracted, and protected.

"Karla," he said, his hand still caressing her. "Will you let me in?" She panted, but it wasn't excitement that made her breathless. "What?"

A psychic touch. A soft brush against her first inner barrier. "Will you let me in?"

She flinched at that light touch, too aware that he was strong enough to force open those barriers. But she opened herself to him, let him glide through the surface layers of her mind. She began to shake when he got close to her core. In another moment, she would try to push him out.

He moved with a warrior's speed and training, wrapping his power around her so fast, she had no time to evade. In his mind, he held a picture of his arms wrapped around her naked body, her back pressed against his chest as tendrils of power strapped her legs to his, leaving her helpless.

"Hold on," he said…and launched them both skyward.

Wings pumping. Blue sky above them. He turned…and sent them diving toward a canyon in Askavi that he knew well. While he pictured the canyon's physical details, he didn't take her through the experience of making the Khaldharon Run.

He had to keep his attention divided between what he was doing in the real world and this fantasy he was building to distract her. Even in a fantasy, the Khaldharon Run was too dangerous to play with. So he changed it to a straight flight down the center of the canyon, flying at the speed of the Red Wind, flying so close to the river below them a miscalculation would end, with them hitting the water with bone-breaking force.

She squealed and swore at him, but her body was primed for the taking now. As they approached the wall of stone at the end of the Run, he positioned himself between her legs… and waited.

They swung up out of the Run and continued flying up, up, up. Releasing the bonds that strapped her legs to his, he flipped her between one pump of his wings and the next so they were now face-to-face. Her arms locked around his neck as he strapped their legs again. His arms wrapped around her, his hard cock pressed against her.

Up, up, up.

"Ready?" he asked.

"For what?" she yelled.

He laughed, folded his wings, and twisted. For one endless moment, they hung motionless before they plummeted toward the ground far below them. And in that moment when they began the fall, he thrust into her.

The speed and exhilaration of free fall. He spun them, laughing, while in another place, his body thrust into hers, pushing her toward climax.

She squeezed her eyes shut and swore at him as the ground rushed toward them and pleasure burst through their bodies.

He opened his wings, changing the picture in his mind as he glided over treetops to settle them in a glen that was one of his favorite places in Ebon Rih.

As he laid her on the grass near a pool of water, he unwrapped the power that had held her captive while he withdrew from her body.

Fully back in the bedroom now, he settled beside her, pulling the sheet up to their waists. They would deal with the practicalities in a few minutes. It wasn't something she needed to see just yet.

"Mother Night," Karla muttered over and over. She finally opened her eyes. "Is that your idea of a good time?"

He grinned. "Actually… it is."

She swore at him.

She looked a little pissed, a little dazed.

"It's done," he said gently.

"What's done?"

He rested a hand on her belly.

She stared up at him. "Done? But… how? When?"

He laughed. "When you were watching the ground come up to meet us."

"Who said I was watching?" She blew out a breath and finally began to relax.

"Well, that was a unique experience."

He watched the tension build in her and worried about the grim expression that settled over her face.

"Lucivar," she said, staring at the ceiling. "When I asked Uncle Saetan to arrange this, I wasn't thinking about… I wasn't thinking. But it's not my fertile time. I swear it's not."

"It's all right. I've been drinking a contraceptive brew for a few weeks now." He'd never had to think about it when he'd lived inTerreille, never had to wonder if the bitches who had used him could get a child out of him. He'd known that he'd somehow made himself infertile in a way the witches who had wanted him for stud couldn't undo. Just as he'd known within a week of Marian's coming to live in his eyrie that he'd turned the key in that lock so that he could flood her with ripe seed. He wanted a child with her, but not without a bond, not without commitment.

"Why are you drinking a contraceptive brew?" Karla asked. Her eyes widened.

"You have a lover, don't you?"

"No."

She moved fast, surprising him enough that he ended up on his back with her on top of him.

"Who is it?" Her mouth curved in a wicked smile. "It's the hearth witch, isn't it?

The one you made the garden for."

Just the thought of Marian primed him. He shoved Karla off him and slipped out of bed while he still could. "Let's get cleaned up."

"Cleaned—" Karla flipped the sheet back. "Oh."

When she turned pale, he grabbed her arm and dragged her out of bed and into the bathroom.

"There's no need to get snarly about it," Karla said.

He turned on the shower faucets, waited until there was a hint of hot water, picked her up, and planted her under the spray.

She let out one breathless squeal and tried to punch him when he stepped in behind her.

He soaped one cloth and shoved it into her hands. "Wash." Soaping up another one, he spun her around and started on her back.

"If you've been drinking the contraceptive brew for weeks now, you're safe,"

Karla said as she washed her breasts and belly. "So why aren't you lovers yet?

You want her, don't you?"

"What I want doesn't matter," he growled.

Swiping the hair out of her eyes, she turned to face him. "Does she want you?"

"How in the name of Hell am I supposed to know what she wants?" Gritting his teeth, he began washing himself. He watched for signs of interest, didn't he? If he pushed too fast, she'd run. Hell's fire. He hadn't even tried to kiss her yet because he was afraid she'd run, and he needed her there. He needed to be around her.

His hands curled into fists. He closed his eyes.This wasn't the time or place for anger of any kind. Before he could get his tongue around an apology, Karla nudged him.

"I'm washed," she said. "Trade places. I'll do your back."

Frustrated and miserable, he obeyed.

"It's summer," Karla said as she moved the cloth over his back. "Which means you wear what Eyrien males usually wear during the summer…which is next to nothing, right?"

"What's your point?"

"So maybe you're right about not doing anything obvious. Maybe it would be better to wait until she trips by herself and falls into your waiting arms."

He snorted.

"I mean it." She gave him a light punch. "Look.There you are, flaunting all these lovely muscles day after day…"

"I don't flaunt."

"Sure you do. All the males do. You've just got more to flaunt than a lot of them.

You can rinse off now."

He turned to face her to get his back under the spray. "Your point is?"

"Does she ever get a dreamy look when she's doing something simple?"

He stuck his head under the spray. "Sure. When she's planning what bulbs to plant for spring flowers."

"Well, what's she supposed to say? That she's daydreaming about your muscles and it's got her all warm and tingly?"

He considered that for a moment. "Yeah. Why not?"

Karla shook her head and smiled at him. "When she finally gets up the nerve to try to seduce you, don't make her work too hard, all right? And don't scare her with that falling out of the sky stuff."

"She's Eyrien. She'd enjoy free fall."

Karla just stared at him, then looked down. "You know," she said slowly, "since you've got the water so cold, it's hard to tell if it's true about wings being in proportion to…"

"Do you want to find out how cold a mountain lake is even in late summer?" he demanded.

"You've never been in a cold mountain lake until you've been in one in Glacia."

She stepped out of the shower. "Taking a swim there will shrivel your assets for a month."

His response as he turned off the water was pungent and succinct. "That's the Lucivar we all know and love," Karla said, giving him that wicked smile. "Kiss kiss."

Lucivar stared at the study door. Everything has a price. He'd wanted this since coming to Kaeleer and being reunited with his father three years ago. Now he would finally get the answer to a question that had haunted him.

Now he wasn't sure he wanted it.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he walked into the study.

Saetan rose from the chair behind the blackwood desk and came around the desk so that he could lean against the front of it. "You did well, Prince."

He nodded, warmed by the praise but too edgy to respond to it.

"What's your price, Lucivar?" Saetan asked softly.

"The answer to a question."

Saetan raised one eyebrow and waited.

"Why?" Lucivar asked, thoughts and feelings swelling that one word until he wasn't sure what else to say. But when Saetan just looked at him, he tried to shape the question. "When Daemon and I were taken away from you, why didn't you fight to get us back?"

He watched in amazement as Saetan paled. "I couldn't," Saetan said after a long pause, his voice rough.

Lucivar took a step toward him. "Why? Even if you couldn't have fought back at that instant, you're a Black-Jeweled Warlord Prince. You could have…"

"I couldn't." A tremor of some strong emotion went through Saetan. He wouldn't look at Lucivar. His deep voice was barely a whisper. "I couldn't. Because of Zuulaman."

Puzzled by Saetan's obvious distress, Lucivar said, "Who is Zuulaman?"

"Not a person. A place." Saetan moved fast and was at the door before Lucivar could raise a hand to stop him. But he hesitated as he opened the door. "If you want to know about Zuulaman, ask Andulvar. In some ways, he remembers better than I do what happened."

Then he was gone, and Lucivar stared at that closed door a long time, wondering what had happened in that place that could make the High Lord run away.

He found Andulvar near the small lake that was part of the estate. He could have pounded on the door of Andulvar's rooms, but the coven had gathered to be with Karla, and he suspected it was better to keep this conversation private. So he'd waited until sundown when the Demon Prince rose from his daylight rest and followed Andulvar to the lake.

"Zuulaman?" Andulvar growled. "Why in the name of Hell are you asking about Zuulaman?"

"I asked my father why he didn't fight to get us back when Daemon and I were taken from him. He said it was because of Zuulaman. He said you'd tell me what that means." Lucivar waited while Andulvar stared at the lake. "Do you remember it?"

Andulvar snorted. "Yeah. I remember Zuulaman." Turning his head, he studied Lucivar for a long time. "Are you sure you want to know this?"

No, "Yes."

Andulvar sighed, went back to staring at the lake… and began to talk.

Two hours later, Lucivar walked back into Saetan's study and stopped just inside the door. His father was standing next to the bookcases that filled the wall behind his desk. He held a book open in his hands. He didn't look up, didn't turn a page.

Just stood there.

"He told you," Saetan said in a voice stripped of any emotion.

Unnerved and a little queasy, Lucivar worked to keep his voice steady. "He told me."

"So now you know."

Something's wrong here, Lucivar thought as he studied his father. Something about the way Saetan stood made him think of a brittle object that could shatter at the slightest blow.

He shook his head, raked a hand through his black hair. "I don't understand why Dorothea let us live. Once she realized she couldn't use either of us for stud, she should have killed us before we got old enough to make the Offering to the Darkness and come into our full strength."

"She couldn't." Saetan closed the book and put it back on the shelf. "Before I left Terreille for good, I sent Dorothea a message. I told her that on the day Daemon no longer walked among the living, Hayll would become another Zuulaman. I sent the same message to Prythian about you."

Lucivar felt the floor slide out from under him. He took a stagger-step to regain his balance. "But… it was a bluff, wasn't it? You wouldn't have done it."

Saetan finally turned and looked at him. "Yes," he said too softly, "I would have."

This wasn't the man he'd come to know over the past three years. He understood now all of Andulvar's cautions about dealing with the High Lord. And yet…

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