Immortal Coil (35 page)

“Regis isn’t going to like that. And just what the hell happened?”

“Regis doesn’t have to know.” Although how Hunter was going to keep that from his Prince was a problem he didn’t want to contemplate right now. “And we’re not going to talk about it.”

“Fine.”
Grey didn’t sound pleased. Well, neither was Hunter, so they could be miserable together.

“Is Nero still at his estate just outside of
Newgate
?”

“I’ve heard that tone before. You can’t go collecting his soul without a warrant.”

“Not having a warrant is the least of my worries. I’m done running.”

The line went quiet for so long, Hunter feared his friend had hung up.

“Okay.” Grey sighed. “Let me do some checking around. Where are you?”

“The
Royal
Park
.”

“Really?”
Mischief crept into Grey’s voice. “Decided to wine and dine the pretty lady with a fancy suite.”

“It’s not like that,” Hunter said, but his protest sounded pathetic even to his ears.

“Then you go out for a while and I’ll wine and dine her.”

“Goodbye, Grey.”

“No, really, I’m sure she’s worth a trip to the human realm.”

“Goodbye, Grey.”

Grey chuckled, but it sounded forced.

Hunter hung up. A knock drew his attention and
Anaea
stepped into the doorway, her eyes narrowed and her arms crossed.

“We have unfinished business.” She radiated strength and defiance. He could practically see her aura even though his body had yet to connect to the earth’s magic.

His mind leapt back to the kiss in the courtyard. Boy, did they have unfinished business. But he didn’t think that was what she meant. He’d ordered her around in his attempt to keep her safe. And he’d do it again.

“I—”

She was trembling. He could see it even across the room.

His heart skipped a beat. Something was wrong. She was upset, afraid.

“I—”

He rushed to her, but didn’t know what to do once close. If he touched her, would she shy away? Mother of All, he just wanted her to stop quivering. His heart was breaking into thousands of little pieces. “Are you hurt?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry.” All defiance melted away.

She turned to go, but he captured her shoulders.

“You can tell me.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

God, if only shaking sense into someone worked. “It matters to me.”

“Oh, really?”
Her gaze shot up to meet his.

There was his warrior drake. She stirred heat within him just from a look.
“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded.

“Fine.”
She jerked out of his grasp and widened her stance. “You don’t tell me what to do and you don’t kiss me unless you mean it.”

“I meant it.” Boy, had he meant it. But he didn’t know if she knew whether she had meant it or not.

“Gee.
Looked that way to me when you left me completely unsatisfied in that courtyard.”

“You want satisfaction?” A growl bubbled within him. He was unsatisfied, too.
More than unsatisfied.

She stepped close, hands on hips, chin tilted defiantly. Everything about her dared him to kiss her.

Anaea’s
heart pounded. She’d never been so forthright in her life. And she’d never been so confused and frustrated, either. She wanted to kiss Hunter again but she had no idea if he wanted her. How he felt about her mattered. Beyond any explanation or logic, it mattered.

“You want satisfaction?” he asked.

“Only if you mean it.”

He grabbed the back of her head and claimed her mouth with his own. His tongue probed her lips with ferocious licks until she was weak and breathless.

Yes, this was what she wanted. This was who she wanted.

With a gasp, he broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to hers. His chest heaved as he gasped in air. “I meant that.” He took another deep breath and captured her gaze with his. “And I mean this, too.”

He picked her up, carried her to the bed, and eased her back, drawing forth an inferno within her from his gaze alone. His lips trailed down her neck, making her shiver with anticipation.

Oh God, yes. It was her dream made real and taken to the next level.
Perfect, delicious.
Right.

He tugged her sweater from her jeans and ice swept through her.

But this wasn’t the dream. Everything about her was wrong. She was broken, scarred.
Incomplete.
Less of a woman.

She captured his hands, stopping their upward movement.

“
Anaea
,
let me look at you.”

She shook her head, her mouth dry. Her voice had abandoned her.

He kissed her hands. “You’re beautiful. Let me see you for real, with my own eyes.”

“No, I’m—” She swallowed hard. She didn’t know how she could explain how she had willingly and desperately maimed herself.

He nuzzled between her hands, pressing tender kisses to her belly. His breath sizzled over her skin. And yet, she couldn’t stop shaking. Why couldn’t she be like she’d been in her dream?
Like she had been... before.

He circled her bellybutton with his tongue. Wet heat blossomed between her legs. She wanted him, wanted to feel normal. But her trembling wouldn’t stop. Her gut churned at the thought that he’d turn away from her the moment he truly saw her.

He glanced at her, his gaze simmering with desire and adoration. She looked away, tears burning her eyes.

“
Anaea
, look at me.”

She couldn’t. Her vision wavered and she squeezed her eyes shut.

“
Anaea
.”

She took a shuddering breath and a tear escaped. She was such a fool to think she wanted this.

But she did, more desperately than she’d wanted anything. Even to live.

Hunter slid up beside her on the bed and gathered her in his arms, murmuring against her temple. “You have nothing to fear.”

That wasn’t true anymore. When she’d first met him she’d already accepted her death. She hadn’t feared facing the unknown as much as she feared the look on his face when he finally saw all of her.

“I’ve done things.” More tears seeped from between her lashes.

“We’ve shared a body. I know.” He kissed the tears from her cheeks. “It doesn’t matter to me.” He ran a finger along the waistband of her pants.

Her trembling continued. “But—”

“Please. Let me look at you.” He inched his finger higher.

She bit her lip but didn’t stop him.

She could do this.

She had to do this.

Face this fear.

He eased her sweater off and she looked away. He’d provided her with a sports bra with the clothes that he’d ordered, but she hadn’t had the heart to put it on without a falsie to fill out her right cup. She couldn’t bear to see his expression at her scar.

But he didn’t jerk back, shudder, or even pause at the sight of her. Instead, he kissed his way across her belly, up her ribcage, and brushed his lips along the puckered edge of her scar, lovingly, reverently. He nudged her cheek with a gentle finger, drawing her gaze. There was no fear, no disgust in his eyes.

You are amazing.

Her trembling stilled. Hunter’s yearning and respect and love seeped through her. She could feel his presence within her mind as if he were back in her body. He didn’t see her as broken. He never had. Her scar was a testament to her prowess in the battles of her own life. He saw a warrior, an Amazon.

“Your body reflects your spirit. And what I see is magnificent.”

She pressed her lips to his and his passion radiated through her, magnified by her longing, until they were kissing and licking and sucking in a frenzy of need. All remaining fear of her body burned away with the truth of Hunter’s desire. He’d realized early on what she’d done. But he belonged to a race of spirits. Physical form didn’t matter nearly as much as the soul.

The honesty of his emotions, permeating every fiber of her being, was a balm for her broken heart. It wasn’t a cure and wouldn’t eliminate any scars, inside or out, but over time wounds healed and scars faded.

She dragged his T-shirt off and slid her body against his, savoring the feel of warm flesh against flesh. He slid his hands all over her with long, strong strokes. Erotic emotions, his emotions, swept through her, fanning the frenzy within her until she thought she’d explode at even the slightest touch.

He leaned back, panting with her, and stripped out of his clothes. Then, with sensually slow movements, he slipped off her pants and panties. He gazed upon her and this time she writhed in anticipation. He’d make her come just with his gaze, if he continued to look at her with such lust for much longer.

He brushed his fingers low along her abdomen. She jerked, more heat surging through her. His fingers trailed lower.
Inch by inch.
Just a little lower.
Just like the dream. Except this wasn’t the dream. It was better.

One more inch and he was caressing her core. She arched and writhed, her orgasm quivering on the verge. Then he plunged his finger in her, taking her over the edge, the fire within her exploding in a dizzying rush of light and sensation.

Breathless, she squirmed on top of the sheets. It was magnificent and she craved more.
All of it.
She yearned for the feel of him within her. He leaned down to kiss her and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Their
gazes
met, perfect understanding passing between them. He slid inside her, sending waves of glorious sensation pounding through both of them, completing the bond: soul, mind, and body.

* * *

Zenobia
shifted on the stone bench in the empty hall. Regis was late. It might have had something to do with the Handmaiden’s sudden disappearance and
Baltu
burning down—of which, she was only sort of responsible for one of those problems—but in the eight hundred or so years she’d been watching him, he’d never missed a visit to his private Temple of the Mother. He’d always freshened up in his room first then used this simple, narrow hall to get to the temple for half an hour of meditation just after lunch. If Regis had one good quality it was his devoutness. However, being devout didn’t equal good, or even competent, leadership. But it did make him thankfully predictable.

A manic giggle rippled down the hall, followed by the staccato slap of bare feet rushing along the smooth granite floor.

This was her other reason to wait for Regis.
The reminder of what her failure would mean and of what had already been taken from her.

Xanthic
skipped around the corner,
a childlike
joy lighting up his wrinkled and sagging face. Her heart contracted and she shoved the emotion deep within her. That wasn’t
Xanthic
anymore. Her lover was gone and had been since the crazy human’s soul had overwhelmed him hundreds of years ago.

The Jester
cartwheeled
to her feet, squatted, and stared up at her. Mother of All, she wanted to believe he was still in there, hidden, protected from the soul sickness. That, however, was impossible and no matter how hard she wished it, it wouldn’t change.

A wisp of pale orange flickered over him, a hint of
Xanthic’s
aura. For a moment she could see him, see the dragon she’d fallen in love with all those years ago. The glassiness in his eyes was gone, replaced with the fierce intellect she had loved and admired. But it was just her imagination projecting what she wanted to see.
Nothing more.

“Lady, lady.”
The Jester blinked, the unfocused insanity returning to his gaze. His manic giggle grated on her nerves and yet she still ached to touch him. This ruined human was all that remained of her connection to
Xanthic
and she wanted that connection back. She wanted
Xanthic
.

“He’s still in there, you know,” Regis said.

“So you keep telling me.” Her heart skipped a beat and she bit her lip. She forced her focus to stay on the Jester, refusing to give Regis the satisfaction of knowing she hadn’t heard his approach and he’d surprised her. “He’s served his sentence many times over. Allow him an unoccupied vessel.”

“That was my father’s judgment. For me, his sentence isn’t finished.”

Which meant as much as she wished her lover was still in there and sane, he wasn’t. He’d never be permitted an unoccupied vessel because his soul was dead and there was nothing to transfer and Regis wasn’t going to admit it.
Xanthic’s
death was no longer the lie Regis had told dragon-kind when
Xanthic
had been caught body-hopping. It was now truth.