Soul Whisperer (9 page)

“Leave it,” she commanded. “I like the cool air and the scent of the salt water.”

He didn't want to, but feared reversing her decision to stay. Bess had released the cape that now draped her shoulders, leaving an enticing band of bare skin down her middle. Her two collarbones stood out. She was right about being slim. His eyes descended. But not so slim as to interfere with the tempting swell of her breasts, free now from her restrictive clothing. Her belly had only the slightest swell and her navel lay, small and puckered, at the center of her stomach.

Her dark thatch of hair was manicured as the rest of her into a narrow swatch that seemed especially thick and glossy, the color of the hair on her head, but also like her feathers. Would it be just as soft, or coarse and curly?

“Have you ever done this before with one of my kind?”

He shook his head. “It's forbidden. You?”

“Never.”

She lifted a slim hand to the cape, sweeping it from her shoulders with the flourish of a matador. Then she set her precious hide on the chair beside the window, leaving her bare to his gaze and his touch. She had removed it for him, making herself vulnerable, unable to shift without it. Should he capture that cloak, she would be trapped in her human form.

Cesar was many things and he had made many mistakes, but he vowed in that moment to be worthy of the trust she showed him.

He took a step to close the distance separating them.

“The light,” she whispered.

Cesar reached back flicked the switch off. The room came alive with colored light, bouncing off the ceiling and walls as if he had a disco ball installed as a chandelier. But this light came from them. The turquoise of wanting swirled like smoke to mix with the virile blue of strong sexual energy. Bess's aura surrounded her, flaring high and casting her in silhouette, while all about him the light shimmered and danced from deep within him.

He grew cautious and his voice dropped. “You ever seen anything like this?”

“No,” she whispered.

B
ess stood separated from him by the distance of his bedroom. Behind her, the damp night air fanned her flanks. Her fingers twitched with the urge to touch his moist skin while her tongue licked away the droplets of water clinging to his naked flesh.

But she resisted.

She had spent too many years avoiding his kind and nursing her grievances. She feared she could not set her hostility aside for even one night. Despite the seemingly peaceful unions of her two dearest friends and their Niyanoka wives, she did not trust his race, never would trust them. Not after witnessing the hunts following Fleetfoot's defeat. She retreated a step and then looked again at their auras.

Hers surrounded her, illuminating her skin as if by candlelight. She had seen a weaker version of this glow before, when she was highly aroused, but never had her
energy field reached for another's as it did now. The two bands of light met in the center of the room, like the aurora borealis, swirling and merging, the mixture of blues becoming a bright, shimmering amber hue, which she had not seen before.

Her curiosity brought her a step closer. The light glowed brighter, iridescent now, as if filled with tiny bits of mica. They swirled like dust motes in a beam of sunlight, spinning faster as she closed the distance between them.

Cesar showed only certainty as he reached for her, taking possession of her shoulders and drawing her forward until their bodies connected. And then she no longer cared about their auras, because Cesar was kissing her. She gave herself over to his touch, relishing the contrast of his soft lips and the roughness of his stubbled jaw. He pressed her tight to his hard muscular frame, letting her feel the power of his body and his willingness to use his strength to delight her senses. He rubbed his chest back and forth, his skin arousing hers until her breasts ached and her nipples beaded, turning to hard knots of sensation with each gentle stroke of his flesh on hers. She could feel her desire rising, but something more, something new, a kind of expansion of pleasure as if she felt more than her own delight.

She slid her hands up and down his broad back, from the taut curve of his ass to the wide wings of his shoulders. At his head, her fingers turned to talons, fisting his short hair and tugging him closer. The effect was like spurring a wild horse. Her need raged and her mind filled with raw, sensual images that were not her own.

He growled as he flanked each side of her torso with his splayed hands, lifting her until her feet no longer touched the thick pile of the Berber carpet beside his
bed. She held his head between her hands, refusing to relinquish control, needing him to kiss her neck, her shoulders, every square inch of her.

He surprised her by bringing her near and then lowering her slowly inch by delicious inch, letting her body slide along his. Her thighs touched his arousal first as it jutted from him, hard and ready. He opened his mouth and stared at her breasts and she knew what he would do. Anticipation quickened her breathing and she slid down until her nipple drew parallel to his open mouth. He latched onto her like a starving man. She threw her head back at the torturous joy of his sucking and arched to let him take her as he would. Sharp shards of pleasure darted inside her. He released one breast and shifted her to enjoy the other as she tugged him closer and called out his name.

The images flooded her mind again, visions of her entangled in his sheets, lying with her legs spread as he kissed her between her thighs. She gasped, as understanding dawned.

“Your thoughts,” she whispered.

“What?”

Before she could answer he tossed her to his bed. Had she been wearing her cloak she would have turned, in that instant she found herself airborne. Instead she had time only to perform a half turn as she landed with a bounce on the soft pile of his comforter. She glanced back at him and knew that tonight she would not be bored or lonely or full of the pain that not even the touch of a man would allay. Tonight would be magic. Cesar would make her forget that she was alone, that she would always be alone. In his arms she found a hunger to match her own.

Let the feasting begin.

His mouth quirked as he stalked toward her. She lifted to one elbow to enjoy the sight of him in motion. Cesar rested one knee upon the bedding, the muscles of his thigh bunched as he loomed over her, closing the gap, claiming what she offered. He tried to kiss her but she rolled away, in a mock attempt to escape him. He wrapped one strong arm about her middle and pulled, bringing her bottom tight against his middle. Ah, yes. This was exactly where she wanted to be, locked against him, his male to her female, his hard arousal against her wet, yielding flesh.

He pressed his lips to her ear, his voice a half growl. “Is this how you want me?”

In answer she reached between her legs, wetting her hand on the juices of her own body and then encircled him with that hand. The slickness and the friction made him gasp. Then his teeth scored her neck and his hand came up to toy with her breasts.

He moved his hand lower to touch her wet, needy flesh. She rocked against him, but he did not enter her. His fingers teased her most sensitive places as he stroked her to madness.

He lifted one leg to flank her hip, positioning himself for entry. Then he rocked back. She braced to accept his thrust, which came with a hot rush of pleasure. They moved in opposition but both toward the same goal. He gripped her hips, increasing the speed and depth of his penetration. Bess bit her lip, but did not succeed in stifling the long sigh of pleasure at the perfect friction of their joining.

She threw herself back against him as the first orgasm burst from within her like dawn. All about her the light vibrated outward, emanating in dancing iridescent pink light. Still he took her again and again,
as her body trembled in the cascading pleasure coming in a second cresting wave. She knew he was reaching his release now from the new tension building in him and gave herself over to the rising need within. His long deep thrusts brought her to the most spectacular orgasm in her very long life. She cried out again and heard his answering call, deep, animalistic and raw as their lovemaking.

He carried her forward to the bedding, pressing her flat with his body half on and half off her own. They gasped from their exertions as their muscles twitched and shuddered, finally spent.

After her breathing had slowed and the warm flush left her skin, she opened her eyes. Her aura glowed a soft pale brown as always and his, a sedate pale blue, capped with gold. What had happened to the white and black she had first seen?

As she stared the blue dissolved, replaced by the golden aura of all Niyanoka and then the now familiar white, pulsing out from him in jagged spears, the pale wave capped with the black of death. The unique aura of this Soul Whisperer had returned.

She closed her eyes, letting the lethargy take her, drifting in her mind as her body lay half beneath his. Exhausted, yet she was not. Bess opened one eye as she recognized that was not her feelings, but his. She lifted a hand and rested it upon his naked back, drawing his emotions more easily now. He was sated and something he rarely felt…at peace. She smiled in satisfaction for she had brought that to him. Could he read her mood, as well?

He rolled onto his back, capturing her hand as he laced hers with his while breaking all other connections between them. The flesh of her palm tingled pleasantly
from the point of contact. Her body continued to hum, like the vibration of a string after it is plucked, but now her thoughts grew confused, a jumble.

She had taken him just like an animal. Rough and raw. Had he expected otherwise? Humans make love face-to-face. She was not human. Was it her animal side that made the joining so intense?

Bess drew her hand free as she recognized these were not her thoughts, but his. Her animal side? Then she remembered him asking if this was how she wanted him. Was that what he meant? Did his humans and his Niyanoka lovers always lie placid upon their backs as he worked above them?

Shame filled her. He rolled onto his side and reached to stroke her, but she escaped from the other side of the bed.

“Is that why you slept with me?”

“Bess?” He tried for a look of bewilderment and failed. “Can you read my emotions, too?”

She glowered at him.

“And your thoughts.”

Why had she opened herself up to this? She knew what his kind thought of hers. These were the mind hunters who tricked her people into stepping off cliffs or sleeping naked in the snow. They were diabolical. And he was one of them.

Why had she let herself pretend he would ever see her as anything but beneath him?

He reached for her and she stepped back.

“Bess, listen.”

“I've heard enough.” She snatched up her feather cape and threw it onto her back. She could not believe she had been stupid enough to completely remove it.
Temporary insanity. It was the only explanation for such a complete lapse in judgment.

The cape molded to her skin as she called on the deep inner power to shift. Energy surged through her frame as the world seemed to change with her transforming vision.

He called to her as she reached the window ledge.

“Bess. Wait.”

She opened her wings and jumped, soaring out into the night, away from this latest humiliation. Away from the Soul Whisperer who had managed to make her feel precious one moment and like a beast the next. Well, she didn't need him. She didn't need anyone.

 

Cesar watched until Bess vanished into the night, her dark feathers aiding in her disappearance. Usually he was the one to walk away and he always felt worse afterward, but never this bad. It hurt to know that he was equally unsuitable to her when by all rights it should be the other way around.

Most of his people viewed Skinwalkers as the inferior species and he had accepted those teachings without much thought. The Inanoka had attacked his people in the most cowardly fashion imaginable. Now it was forbidden to even speak to one. He was holding on to his citizenship by his fingernails and he'd risked it all to have Bess. For what?

Cesar sat on the bed. What the devil had he been thinking before she'd leaped up? That she was lovely, sensual. That he'd never been laid like that and thought that, even if he reached his four hundredth year, he never would be again. Nothing insulting there.

He'd been remembering the strange way their auras had spiked and glittered as they merged, wondering
why he enjoyed her so much. He'd speculated that it was because…

And then he knew. He'd wondered if her animal self had made their joining so thrilling.

“Shit,” he muttered, realizing too late that he'd ruined any chance of ever having her again.

He didn't know Bess well, but he understood a prideful woman.

She wasn't coming back.

When he was cast out by his people, he had told himself that the universe had seen fit to make him what he was for a reason. He didn't need anyone because his work was what mattered most.

Until tonight, he'd nearly believed it.

Tonight he had touched a woman who was not past feeling, past caring. Bess positively pulsed with life, her heartbeat as strong as the stroke of her wide, beautiful wings. He had touched magic and she had left him, too. It was ironic that the same thing that had brought her to him, her complete ignorance of how unacceptable it was to touch him, was also what had driven her away.

He wondered briefly if women of his kind could also read his thoughts and then recognized, glumly that he would never find out. Soul Whisperers did not have friends, confidants or lovers. What they had was solitude and work.

He hated his power. If he had the choice to set it aside and become a human, he would do it, anything to avoid the curse of this half life.

Cesar stepped to the window. He leaned far out, staring at the place where she had disappeared.

He shouted his fury to the night. “Do you think I want this? Well, I don't! I don't want any of it. Why
couldn't I be a Dream Walker, like mother, or just a Truth Seeker, like father? Why this curse and why me?”

As always he received no answer. He slammed the window closed and spun around to reach for his clothing.

He tugged on his shirt, flipped on the bathroom light and then paused as the scent of pine and sage tickled his nostrils.

He dragged off his shirt and threw it as far as he could.

Cesar refused to be reminded of her, of her rejection. He dressed carefully in clean clothing and then headed for the lobby. She might have abandoned him, but he still had his work. There were at least two sets of twins out there with a likelihood of supernatural parentage. It was his job to assess the threat and determine how to proceed.

Bess was gone and the sooner he forgot her, the better off he'd be. He would do what he always did when faced with the emptiness. Move. Move forward, move up, move beyond. As long as he kept moving, the deadness inside him could not overtake him.

 

When Nagi had finished with the human female, he summoned the ghost that he had set to follow the raven. The loathsome specter appeared a moment later, groveling before him in a brownish fog, his immortal soul dull beneath a gray film of evil.

“My lord and master, how can I serve you?”

“Has the Skinwalker raven contacted any others of her kind?”

“No, Lord.” The edges of his soul curled up, billowing back into his central core.

“What has she been doing?”

“Only meeting with a Spirit Child, Lord, a Soul Whisperer.”

“What?”