Pyromancist (19 page)

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Authors: Charmaine Pauls

Tags: #erotica, #multicultural, #france, #desire, #secrets, #interracial, #kidnap, #firestarter, #fires, #recurring nightmare

BOOK: Pyromancist
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She dug her fingers into his shoulders,
silently cursing the fabric that prevented her from feeling his
skin. She wanted nothing between them. She pushed up into him,
arching her back and her neck. Josselin cursed. His lips left her
mouth to seek the flesh of her throat. She offered it gladly, would
have given him her very blood had he been the vampire she had
suspected him of being. His hand cradled her neck. His fingers
wrapped around it gently, possessively, while his other hand moved
down between their bodies to cup the apex of her need. A whimper
left her mouth, and as if the verbal confirmation of her ecstasy
was fuel on his fire, Josselin increased the pressure of his
caress. His thumb massaged her clit in circular movements, causing
the wave to finally collapse and push her over the edge with its
force. She cried out as her muscles tensed and contracted, her legs
closing around him while her pelvis sought his, aware of the act
being incomplete and his need hanging.

“God, yes,” he said, his arms going around
her, under her back, pulling her so tight against him that her
breath caught.

It was hard to believe that she could feel as
she did, without shedding a piece of clothing.

“Ah, God, Clelia,” he said, raking his teeth
down her neck, biting softly into the flesh of her shoulder.

She panted underneath him, feeling
deliciously satisfied and dissatisfied simultaneously, wanting more
and feeling like she had it all at the same time. She started to
feel the strain of his weight, and when she wiggled, he lifted
himself on his elbows and kissed her lips fervently.

“Are you all right?” he said, his expression
hovering between a smile and concern.

“Is what just happened what I think it
was?”

His eyes flickered with something she
couldn’t place. “You climaxed,” he said, almost clinically now.
“You had an orgasm.”

She gasped. “But we didn’t even take off our
clothes.”

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead
against hers. “Imagine what we’ll do to each other when our clothes
come off.”

A shiver ran over her as she imagined exactly
that.

He lifted his head, suddenly seeming worried.
“I’m sorry.” He rolled away from her. “It wasn’t my place or right
to have brought your body that far. I got carried away. I should
have left that privilege for your future lover.”

She blinked at him in confusion. He owned her
in ways he couldn’t even imagine. He had no idea she had already
pledged her body and soul to him with the kiss in the standing
stone graveyard, long before even, when she was only a girl in love
with a boy.

“Josselin,” she whispered, “I’m glad it was
you.”

It felt right. He had to be her first, her
last.

His Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed. He
sat up and all the warmth she had felt only seconds ago
evaporated.

“I’m a devil. I had no right to touch you
like that.”

She sat up too and rested her hand on his
cheek. “You’re a good man.”

It wasn’t Josselin’s fault that she was the
prey he was after. He did what he did believing that he was
fighting to win over evil. His heart was kind. She knew it, felt
it, believed it, but he pushed away from her.

“Promise me you won’t let me touch you
again,” he said, “because it’ll be like witnessing a demon making
love to you. The thought makes me sick to my stomach.”

She touched his hair. “A demon wouldn’t have
saved me from Iwig. A devil wouldn’t have considerately bound my
wrists with bandages before handcuffing me.”

“You’re justifying the man who hunts you.”
His expression became tight. “Don’t you see what we are? You’re
untainted, and I’m blacker than the night. You’re a little bird, so
fragile, so easy to break, and if you have any sense of
self-preservation you’ll fly away, as fast as you can.”

He stopped suddenly, and Clelia could see the
connection his mind made with his words, but battled to register.
She reached for him, but he jumped to his feet.

“If you need anything, I’m at your disposal.
But maybe Cain was right. It’s better that you call Maya if you
need something.”

He opened and closed the door with a
bang.

“I do need something, Josselin,” Clelia
whispered to the closed door. “I need you.”

 

 

Chapter
Eleven

 

For an hour, nobody else disturbed her, and
Clelia was just about to go upstairs to get an idea of where they
were sailing, when Maya knocked and opened the door.

“I saw Josselin leave in a bit of a ... rage.
Are you all right?”

“What do you care?”

“Listen, I’m trying.”

“Trying what?”

“Never mind. Cain asked if you’re rested
enough to come see him.”

“You mean he instructed you to bring me to
him.”

Maya shrugged. “Let’s go.”

Maya brought Clelia back to the lounge. She
could see the muscled man called Bono standing on the deck, and
Lann leaning on the rail, peering up at the sky. As they rounded
the starboard, Clelia’s foot hooked in a coil of rope. She stumbled
and Bono jumped forward, steadying her with his arms.

“I’ve got you,” he said, smiling. “Are you
okay?”

In a flash, Josselin was there, as if
manifesting from thin air, almost growling as he took in the
scene.

“The deck is slippery,” Bono said. He really
had a lovely face. He was the kind of man a woman could swoon over,
but he wasn’t Josselin. “Better be careful. You’re such a tiny
thing. Could easily break an arm or something.”

“Thank you,” Clelia said, returning the
smile.

“You’re welcome.”

Bono still had his hands on her arms.
Josselin had taken the stance of an attacker with his legs planted
wide and his fists balled by his side. Even his coat billowed
angrily behind him in the wind.

“Get your hands off her,” Josselin said
through gritted teeth.

Bono turned in surprise, staring at Josselin.
“What’s that, Joss?”

“I said, get your fucking hands off her.”

Bono lifted his hands into the air in a
gesture of surrender. “Hey, I was only being helpful.”

“Your helpfulness is unneeded.”

Maya looked between Bono and Josselin with a
grin. “Listen, I’d love to stay and watch you two puppies fight
over a bone, but Cain is waiting.”

She lifted her brow expectantly at Josselin,
who grudgingly stepped aside, his eyes trained on Bono.

“Watch it, Bono,” he said. “Keep your hands
to yourself.”

When the women walked past, Bono addressed
Maya. “What the hell was that?”

Maya chuckled. “Joss is territorial.”

Bono wiped his hand over his shaved head.
“Fuck.”

Clelia peered over her shoulder at Josselin,
but he didn’t look back at her as Maya escorted her into the
lounge. Clelia felt confused as hell. She had always known Josselin
was complex, but his behavior didn’t make sense. One minute he
looked like he wanted to rip off her clothes, the next he told her
to stay away from him, and when someone smiled at her, he acted
like a jealous boyfriend. He definitely didn’t act like a cruel
captor. He behaved like a very possessive captor.

Cain stood up from the sofa when they
entered. He offered Clelia a chair, but when she declined, he
remained standing himself.

He waited until Maya had gone before he said,
“Has Josselin been treating you well?”

“Yes,” Clelia said, almost defensively,
rubbing at her arms.

Cain’s gaze slipped from her bruised neck to
the red marks on her wrists. “You have no complaints about being
his prisoner?”

“I’m not his prisoner. I’m yours.”

“Ah,” he said pensively. “I suppose it
depends on how you look at it.”

“Excuse me?”

“I think Josselin took you hostage a very
long time ago. Am I right?”

She felt herself pale under his watchful
eyes.

“I see I am,” he said. “You gave him your
heart. You must have sensed this return. Did it come to you in the
form of a dream? A vision? A sensation, maybe?”

Clelia didn’t answer.

“You have reason to mistrust me. But the
question is do you trust Josselin?”

“Do I trust him to do what?”

“What’s right?”

“And what is that?”

“There is only one right and one wrong in the
world. I don’t deal in shades of gray.”

“You’re talking in circles.”

“Josselin took an oath when he was appointed
as leader of this task force. He has promised to protect the force
and the good it stands for. Josselin is a tormented soul. I sense
in you the healing that could set him free, but if you have, or are
going to, turn dark, it will force Josselin to make an impossible
choice.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No? Consider my words when the time comes.
When you’re in the grip of evil and there’s no way out, set
Josselin free. If you love him, you won’t make him choose.”

“Choose what?”

“Between you and what he protects.”

“Between me and good?”

“If you prefer to put it like that.”

“That makes me bad, evil?”

“I don’t know. The change has begun, but the
wheel has only just started turning. At this point in time, not
even you can know how you will turn.”

“You think I’m capable of...”

“No one knows what they’re capable of, until
the right circumstances set it in motion.”

Without giving her a chance to reply, he
picked up a paper from the table and handed it to her.

Clelia took it reluctantly. “What’s
this?”

“The psychological evaluation we did on
Josselin when I decided to take him into my team.”

Clelia frowned. “Why are you showing me
this?”

“Read it.”

Her eyes glanced over the text.

In conclusion, the test results point to a
highly sensitive man who is by the same token perceptive,
intuitive, and particularly emotional. He successfully manages to
keep his volatile emotions under control, to the point of appearing
calm and reserved. Nevertheless, he is characterized by a certain
dualism, between sociability, and altruism.

She looked up. “I already know all of
this.”

“Read on,” he urged.

...eccentric ... a curious mix of
independence and dependence ... rejects accepted truths. Inclined
to be introverted, he is shy and vulnerable, we are guessing due to
childhood trauma.

“What point are you trying to make?” she
asked.

“That passion could lead someone with
Josselin’s disposition, without prior warning, onto a road of
fanaticism.” He waited for the meaning of his words to sink in. “I
want you to know who you’re dealing with.” His voice softened. “Who
you’re falling in love with. If you start loving him, you can’t
stop. You can’t reverse your decision once you get to know him, and
I mean really know him. It’ll kill him.”

“Are you telling me to love him, or leave
him?”

“I’m asking you to love him enough to
eliminate yourself, or to let us do it, if you turn dark.”

Clelia opened her mouth, but Josselin entered
the lounge, his long hair flying in the wind just before he shut
the door. For a minute, the Earth stopped moving as Clelia locked
eyes with him.

“Clelia, may I please have a moment with
Josselin?” Cain said.

She walked to the door, and as she passed
Josselin, he lifted his fingers and let them brush over her hand.
It was a whisper of a touch, an almost undetectable movement of his
hand, less than an inch in physical distance, unnoticeable to the
unwatchful eye, but in Clelia’s world, it was powerful enough to
change the direction of currents. Electricity flowed between them,
setting fireworks off in her tummy, a fluttering echo of her
earlier orgasm. Nothing in Josselin’s demeanor betrayed his
feelings. He only lowered his head and lifted his iron hard eyes to
trap hers, to wrestle in looks that reflected a recognized fate,
tinted by uncertainty. For a second, she recalled the shape of his
body as it had pressed into hers, and then he turned from her and
the feeling was gone again. Cold.

She closed the door behind her and pressed
her back against it, trying to bite back her tears. She loved
Erwan. She owed him. She could never betray him for trying to
protect her, no matter what. And she loved Josselin. Josselin, the
dark, tortured hunter who came for a criminal and found her. Was
she the angel he called her, or the demon he was trying to protect
the world from, the demon he mistakenly saw himself as?

No matter what he said about knowing she was
innocent, Clelia felt a new power growing inside of her. Cain knew
it, too. A sudden, unexplainable affinity for fire had found a home
in her heart. She longed for flames, long tongues of red passion
and heat. She knew beyond a doubt that she was changing, and that
it was inevitable. As Cain had said, the wheel had started turning.
The pebble had been dropped. How would Josselin react when he found
out she was turning into a firestarter? In that moment, Cain’s
statement became crystal clear. Josselin was incredibly gentle and
kind to her. Maya was right; their attraction was undeniable. She
could never place Josselin in the position of choosing between
protecting or killing her. She had seen his reaction to accidently
leaving marks on her skin. He would never forgive himself if he had
to destroy her to protect what he stood for, what Cain stood
for.

She shuddered in the midday heat as the truth
dawned on her. The boat had slowed down. As it came to a halt and
the noise of the engines died, Cain’s voice drifted to her through
the open lounge window.

“I believe you, Josselin, and what you say
about her blood. But I sense something, something very profound.
When it surfaces, it will be powerful. You have to tell me now if
you can remain objective enough to complete your mission. Can you
eliminate her if you have to?”

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