Shadow Kin (33 page)
Authors: M.J. Scott
Nor could I feel his touch again as long as I stayed where I was. I took a deep breath and let myself fade into view so that we lay almost where we’d started, side by side on the bed, facing each other with mere inches separating us.
Simon’s eyebrows drifted upward again. “That really is the damnedest thing. How do you do it?”
I stared at his chest, not wanting to meet his eyes. “I don’t know.” It wasn’t a Fae power, what I did. Nor one of Beast or Blood or human mages. Whoever or whatever my unknown father had been, I’d never been able to work it out. “Nobody knows.” Other than Lucius and the Fae. And they weren’t talking. My eyes prickled suddenly. Would I ever know who I was? Know the truth instead of only knowing what everyone—including the man lying here with me—thought I was or should be? I blinked rapidly, drew in a shaky breath.
“Lily? We can stop right here.”
I shook my head. I didn’t want to stop. One day my truths might be revealed and who knew if Simon would want anything to do with me then? I would take this chance while I could.
“Then can you at least look at me?”
It took an effort of will to force myself to lift my head. But I did. And his eyes were full of that same warmth and desire and light that had drawn me to him since the first moment.
“That’s better.” He leaned in slowly, slowly enough to give me more than enough time to draw back if I chose. I stayed put and he kissed me.
Soft at first but then the heat between us flared and took over.
It was Simon who drew back. “Don’t take this the wrong way,” he said. “But I’m going to light the sunlamp now.”
I blinked. “What?”
“I’ll stop whenever you want. All you have to do is ask and I’ll stop. But I’m not letting you vanish again.”
“I wouldn’t—” I broke off. How was I to know what I’d do? “All right.”
The lamp glowed into life before I had a chance to say anything else.
His arms tightened around me, pressing me closer. I closed my eyes again and gave myself up to it. The feel of skin touching skin and the taste of him and the mingled scents of our bodies. Let all of it carry me away.
His hands started their dance with my nerves for a second time, and this time I wanted to touch too. My hand slid down and closed around his cock, feeling the warmth and strength of it against my palm with shocked pleasure.
Simon groaned. “If you do that, this is going to go a lot faster than you might like.”
“What’s wrong with fast?” I tightened my grip a little, then released it and repeated the action as he sucked in a breath.
“Nothing,” he managed. “But you’ll enjoy it more if—gods!” His hand gripped mine and stopped what I was doing. “Just trust me on this. Let me show you this time. Let me show you how this should be.” He added little nibbling kisses to his pleas, running his tongue along the curve where my neck met my shoulders and setting off tiny shivers like butterflies dancing over my skin.
He knew what he was doing. I rolled onto my back. “Have it your way, then.”
“Oh no, it’ll be our way,” he said. “It’s a dance. You do it together.”
“Then let’s dance,” I said, tugging him down to me. “Show me.”
He did. Relentlessly. He touched and tasted and sent the flames under my skin rising higher and higher until I couldn’t catch my breath. Until the world narrowed down to just Simon and what he was doing.
What we were doing.
I didn’t want to flee the second time his fingers slid into me. This time I wanted more. Wanted whatever it was that would ease the burning ache inside me.
Wanted him.
Fingers weren’t enough though I writhed under their touch. But he wouldn’t let me get away. Just teased and stroked until finally I shuddered fiercely and came against his hand with a cry.
It wasn’t like the need. Not a pleasure so sharp it burned. No, this was pleasure that swelled sweetly and turned my nerves transparent with delight.
When I rode the other side of the wave down, I didn’t collapse or pass out. No humiliation twisted my gut. No, instead I wanted it again. Not because the need drove me. But simply because I couldn’t not want him.
And because I knew there was more.
I curled my arms around his neck and kissed him. “Show me the rest.”
“You’re sure?”
I hooked a leg over his hip, pressing myself against him. He felt harder than before, his skin hotter. His breath was coming fast, and tension rode his muscles. I knew he wanted what I was offering. The trick now was to get him to forget himself and take it.
“Please, Simon.”
It seemed that was all he needed. That last assent. His mouth took mine again as he rolled me onto my back, pressing my thighs open with his. The kiss deepened, burned, flooded through me, driving all thoughts from my head. Then he was pressing against me and I knew exactly what to do. I arched and he slid slowly inside me, the sensation like velvet drawn across my nerves.
This
.
.
He moved within me. Sure and strong and with a passion that took me over and set me free. Sent me climbing once more as the pleasure built. Caught me when I fell and then, in turn, as I shuddered against him, sure there could be no more to discover, showed me even more as he gave himself to me and followed me over the edge.
Chapter Fourteen
When I woke, sunlight streamed through the window and Simon was gone. I hadn’t heard him leave. I imagined he was being discreet, returning to his room before the Brothers rose and started their day.
I stretched experimentally. A little sore but nothing that signified in any way. Nothing that even really registered as pain after everything else I’d been through in the last few days.
My body felt good. More than good, I realized.
I felt wonderful, energized as though I’d managed eight hours sleep. A glance at the window to determine the angle of the sun told me that it was, in reality, probably closer to only two or three.
Which meant, the only probable source of my renewal was the sex. I stretched again. No one had ever told me about this. About the sense of well-being that hummed through your veins after a night in bed with a man.
The need was different. When you fed its hunger, it simply died, wiping you blank—or it had until the last time Lucius had fed me—until it started to grow again. Leaving you feeling no better or worse than you felt before the blood and the orgasms.
Or rather, no better or worse from the need itself. I’d usually woken up miserable and ashamed and humiliated, so feeling even vaguely happy after an orgasm was an unknown quantity.
And the happiness I felt was more than vague. Here, lying in the Brother House, surrounded by Templars and crazy sunmages and possibly marked for death by Lucius, I felt positively content.
Of course, once I realized that, I felt content and
confused
but content just the same.
confused
but content just the same.
The need. I suddenly remembered exactly why I’d thrown myself at Simon. Had it worked? I stilled on the bed, trying to listen to my body, to sort out the sensations running through it into familiar and unfamiliar. I couldn’t feel the need calling me. There was a distinct urge to find out where Simon was and coax him back into bed, but it was distinctly different from the howling, nothing-else-matters drone of the need through my blood.
Had Atherton been right after all? Could I sate the need with other pleasures?
And if I could, could I be free of Lucius once and for all? Regardless of cures? Regardless of whether I did what I had promised Simon?
Freedom.
I hugged my knees, curling into a ball. There was no use letting myself run ahead of things. Only time would tell if Atherton had truly found a way for me to be free.
Until then, I couldn’t afford a premature celebration. Couldn’t afford to relax and let myself believe it might be true. But despite my caution, I wanted to talk to Atherton, see if he might be able to tell if it had worked.
Talk to him alone, without Simon.
I didn’t know how I was going to arrange another meeting. Simon had asked me not to go back there without him knowing. I wanted to try, at least, to keep that promise to him. So I would have to come up with a reason for him to want me to be there.
I threw back the covers and pulled on my clothes. Before I did anything, I wanted to bathe. Back in the warrens, I had a private bathroom and retreating to a hot bath was one of the few sanctuaries I’d had.
The Brothers should be well about their days and I didn’t think I needed to worry about running into any of them in the bathroom. So I tied my hair back, then picked up the soap and towel provided and opened the door, intent on scrubbing myself clean of all the scents of last night so I could start afresh.
Liam sat in the corridor opposite my door, reading a leather-bound book. He looked up at me, his green eyes assessing.
“Can I help you?” he asked. His voice was deep and smooth.
“I was going to, um, wash.” I held up the soap and towel. “The bathroom is that way, correct?”
He nodded and rose to his feet gracefully, closing the book with care. He was slimmer than either Guy or Simon, not yet fully grown, despite the voice, if I was any judge of human males. But I’d seen him in armor and chain mail wielding a sword as large as Guy’s yesterday, so he was no weakling. Today he wore a short-sleeved gray tunic over gray trousers, leaving his brown arms bare to the elements.
Unlike Guy’s, I noted, his hands bore no crosses. As far as I knew, that meant he hadn’t yet taken final vows.
Simon would know for sure. Lucius had seen to it I was educated in weapons and fighting and the basics of reading and writing and human culture, but I’d never been taught the finer points of exactly what the Templars believed and how they ran their organization. The rest of the Night World provided little information beyond than making them out to be hell-bent on killing Blood and Beast Kind in the name of their God.
Big bad monsters.
Guy fulfilled the big and bad criteria well enough and Liam did too. But I could hardly see them as monsters. Warriors, yes, but so far they seemed perfectly well controlled and lucid and not prone to hasty decisions or fanaticism.
Of course, my experience was hardly extensive. The Order could be discussing my imminent demise right this very moment.
“Do you know where Simon is?” I asked as we walked. Liam was obviously not inclined to let me move around the Brother House alone. I presumed he was acting under orders. In truth, having an escort was comforting. It would prevent any misunderstanding if I came across other Templars. The thought made me relax a little. As did the one chasing its heels, that here in the Brother House, there would be no Fae to look down their pale noses at me either—though it was possible of course that the Templars might hold the same dim view of my kind.
“Master Healer DuCaine was with his brother at breakfast,” Liam said politely. “I haven’t seen him since.”
Hardly helpful. “And was it Healer DuCaine or his brother who set you to watch over me?” I asked.
“That was an order from the Abbott General, my—” He broke off. I wondered whether he’d been about to tell me something he shouldn’t or whether, more likely, he had no idea what to call me.
I was hardly a lady, after all. No, to the Templars I was likely to be considered devil hell spawn.
Though so far, Liam had been nothing but courteous. “My name is Lily,” I offered.
Liam nodded. “I know.”
We walked on. The stone walls were broken here and there by the same narrow barred windows as my room. Shafts of sunlight fell through them. As we passed through one, Liam turned his face to the light, a faint smile curving his lips. The movement reminded me of Simon. I’d been wrong about Liam. He wasn’t a metalmage.
“You’re a sunmage,” I blurted.
Liam’s focus snapped back to me, eyes narrowed.
“Don’t deny it. Simon already said it was you who was responsible for the fires yesterday.”
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