WesternWind 4 - Tears of the Reaper (22 page)

He lifted one arm to his mouth, sank his fangs into his flesh to open it, ripped his own flesh, and then pressed the bloody wound to her mouth. “Drink, milady,” he said softly. “Drink.”

A rough tongue shot out to lap at the blood flowing from Owen’s veins. The long, graceful throat gulped hungrily as the Sustenance was taken in.

“There,” he said, crooning to her, soothing her. “See, that’s better, isn’t it?”

The golden she-wolf held against him was docile as she flicked her tongue to lap at the red liquid. Her pretty violet eyes closed and her breathing slowed. She laid her head against his chest and her lovely tail thumped against the ground a few times before she finally stopped licking at his wound.

“Sweet little she-wolf,” he whispered to her, bending his head toward her to place a kiss on her silky fur. “Beautiful little she-wolf.”

She lapped her tongue over his stubbled chin and he smiled until he noticed the ugly brand that marred the perfection of her silken fur. The letter W left its vileness upon her even in Transition.

“Owen,” Glyn called to him from where he stood with Iden and the two Communalists who had helped them. “We need to get out of here.”

The hail had stopped but the wind was still skirling like a banshee, blowing debris about the compound. The doors of the buildings were still sealed.

Making sure he had his lady firmly in his grip, Owen struggled to his feet with her, carrying her with one arm beneath her chest and the other under her flanks, her tail draped lovingly over the wound from which she’d fed that was closing on his arm.

“Take Céierseach,” he told Glyn. “Head back for New Junction. We’ll join you there.”

“You are going to Transition?” Glyn asked, his look incredulous. “Owen, you haven’t had any tenerse today or Sustenance and you just fed her from your own blood. You can’t…”

“Give me the tenerse,” Owen interrupted him. “Don’t worry.”

“Owen,” Glyn said, “you are weak. You won’t be able to protect her and what will you do without tenerse for her when she shifts back?”

“Morrigunia will see to it,” Owen told him. “Just go and take care of our friends here.” He looked at Benjamin and Edward. “You know you won’t be able to go back to New Towne.”

“We will have to,” Edward said. “My wife and children are still there. I’ll not leave them so the high elder can Join her to another once I’m cast out.”

“I have no one there,” Benjamin said, “but I will aid Edward in taking his family.”

“Let’s do it now,” Iden said. “I don’t think your elders want to mess with me and Glyn.” A muscle ground in his jaw. “Not considering the mood I’m in.”

“Then go take care of it,” Owen said. “My lady and I will meet you in New Junction.”

Glyn would have protested but he knew Owen so well he knew it would do him no good. If his friend said the Triune Goddess would aid him, She would. He stalked over to his horse, fumbled in the saddlebags for the vac-syringe—mumbling the entire time—filled it and came back. “For the record,” he said as he plunged the needle into Owen’s neck, “I am against this.”

“Give Iden and yourself a dose of that hellish brew,” Owen said as he bent over to put his she-wolf on the ground. She looked up at him, wagging her tail weakly as he took off his gun belt and handed it to Glyn.

In the blink of an eye, he had shifted into a great black wolf that nipped at his lady’s flanks to set her running after him. She hesitated. He nipped her again. She snarled at him then barked, looking surprised that such a noise had come from her mouth. He ran a little ways ahead of her, turned and gave her a soul-searing look. She wagged her tail then took out after him, her delicate paws digging into the snow. Together they raced through the gaping hole in the gate and disappeared.

“That man drives me crazy sometimes,” Glyn mumbled. He motioned Edward and Benjamin toward the horses. “Let’s get out of here before they drum up enough courage to shoot at us again.”

Iden glanced up at the boiling skies above them. “They’d best not,” he said loud enough for those inside the buildings to hear. “The Shadowlords still have an eye in the heavens.”

Mounting up, Glyn leading Owen’s horse, the four men galloped away from the compound and set out for New Junction.

* * * * *

The black wolf led his mate toward New Junction but soon began to tire. He had expelled as much energy as his body would allow and his thirst for Sustenance was weakening him. It took the last of his strength to run a jackrabbit to ground, pin it and feed until the edge was off his hunger. His mate had hunkered down beside him, watching from between her paws as she lay there with her pretty head between her front legs.

Owen garnered just enough energy to change back into human form, clothe himself and fashion a loaded gun for protection then lift his lady into his arms to carry her to a sheltered area. Sitting down with her in his lap, he stroked her head, knowing her initial Transition could last anywhere from an hour to several. He spoke quietly to her until she shifted more comfortably—moving to lie beside him with her body pressed up against his hip and legs—and went to sleep, her tail curled over his thigh.

The Reaper laid his head back on the rock behind and closed his eyes. His hand was buried in the lush fur of his lady’s ruff. He knew he had to find more Sustenance but at that moment he was depleted, drained, his energy exhausted.

It was Her hand between his legs that awoke him and when he opened his eyes, he found Her in Her crone form squatting down before him, one withered hand kneading his privates. She smiled at him with discolored, rotted teeth gaping between thin, bloodless lips. He didn’t move, just allowed Her to grope him though the action sent chills of disgust through his body.

She tsked at him then shifted to the form in which he was most accustomed to seeing Her. Her vibrant red hair draped over naked breasts tipped with large dusky nipples that drew the eye. She squeezed him one last time then withdrew Her hand.

“You bargained with me, Reaper,” She reminded him.

“Aye, mo Regina,” he said tiredly. “That I did.”

“Walk with me, Reaper,” She ordered, and got to her feet. Her long red hair curled around her like a living cape. As She walked, he caught tantalizing sights of her shapely legs behind the ankle-length hair.

He looked down at his lady who slept so peacefully in her lupine form. Her paws were flexing, her muzzle trembling, and he wondered what it was she was chasing in her dream. Getting to his feet, he wavered a moment, weary and lightheaded from his need for Sustenance.

She waited until he stood beside Her then lifted Her arm. “Drink,” She said.

He had no strength to deny Her command and took that silky arm in his hands, bringing the unblemished white flesh to his lips. His fangs shot out and he sank them into Her, closing his eyes to the delicious, intoxicating taste of Her potent blood. He barely felt Her fingers threading through his hair, Her nails lightly scratching his scalp. He fed for a long time until the empty reservoir within him was full. Sweeping his tongue over the puncture wounds, he stepped back, waiting to learn of the payment he’d be asked to make.

Morrigunia cupped his cheek, smoothing Her thumb over his full bottom lip. “Of all my Reapers, you are my most favored one, Owen,” She told him, Her mesmerizing green eyes holding his. “Do you know why, sweet Owen?”

“No, mo Regina,” he replied. Her touch was doing things to his cock that shamed him as he stood there.

“It was because you alone died for love,” She said softly.

A brief spasm of pain shuddered through Owen and his eyelids flickered. He wanted to ask about Siobhan. He wanted to know the woman he had loved so dearly had gone on to have a happy life.

“I did not take from you as I took from the others,” he heard the Triune Goddess say and forced his mind from memories of Siobhan and the home he had left behind on Draíoct. “Now I want my due.”

Owen stared into her beautiful green eyes. “Due?” he repeated.

Morrigunia turned Her penetrating gaze to the golden she-wolf who slept so peacefully. “I returned life to your mate,” She said. “I returned her to the land of the living.” Her stare leapt back to Owen. “Now, I demand my due.”

He lifted his chin. “I am ready to pay what I owe, mo Regina,” he vowed, though his knees were all but knocking together.

A slow, lazy smile shifted over the goddess’s lovely face. “I know, my Reaper, and pay you will.”

One moment they were on the frozen ground of the Manontaque Province and the next they were hurtling through ebon space, stars flashing by so speedily they were but pale golden streaks across the midnight sky. He gasped—fearing for Rachel’s safety—but all thought, all concern, for her flew from his mind and then all he could think of was the light silver rain that was slowly dewing on his naked flesh. It cooled him. It soothed him. It generated a miraculous calm and slowed his breath and lowered the beat of his heart.

When his body stilled, he was lying amidst fleecy gray clouds, luxuriating in the wondrous feel of floating on thin air, not touching anything. His arms and legs flung to each side, his cock as hard and engorged as it had ever been, he groaned with need. He writhed on the bed of clouds, needing relief in that rigid member, aching, throbbing and burning for release. The rain beaded on his flesh then trickled in rivulets into the various creases of his well-honed body. It pooled in his navel. It dripped from the slit of his straining shaft. It dripped from his wet black curls and ran through the hairs on his hard chest.

Sweet winds floating over him and with them came the intoxicating scent of gardenias laying warm in the summer sun. The scent spiraled all around him and touched him everywhere. It seeped into his pores. It wound down through his cock and up through his anal opening. It trickled into his mouth and oozed into his ear canals. It drifted up his nostrils to completely invade him, body and soul.

A soft coppery light began to shine up through the clouds beneath him, reaching up in sparkling shafts that tinted the clouds. The higher the shafts rose, the deeper the color undulating through the beams until it was a bright shimmering burst that lit the entire expanse of the heavens. Far more luminescent than a mere sun, more alluring and compelling than the golden disk of a lesser moon, this light fanned over his bare flesh and turned the silver rain drops to copper orbs skittering over him. With the light She came, rising up through the helianthus beams as naked as the day She had burst from the firmament of the heavens.

Her lustrous hair whirled and tossed and floated around Her head. Her lush body glistened with a sheen of coppery dew. The bright bush at the apex of Her thighs drew his attention and he licked his lips, aching for a taste of the sweet nectar he could see forming on the wiry curls.

He wanted Her so desperately. He itched to drive his stony shaft into that alluring body. She was hovering over him and the smell of Her sex was driving him mad with lust. He arched his hips, offering his rod for Her pleasure.

A slow, knowing smile formed on Her ruby red lips and She flicked out Her tongue.

Owen whimpered, wanting that soft, velvet wetness on him. He ached to know the warmth of that sweet tongue lapping at his cock. He longed for it to sweep along his balls, over the pucker of his ass, down his straining thighs.

Her hair reached down to him like fingers and curled around his legs, his arms, his chest. Where it touched, his flesh came alive, crawling with intense delight as the tendrils slithered over him. They plucked at his nipples. They slid over his shoulders and along his biceps. They circled his neck. They raked fiery fingers through his pubic hair. He felt one thick strand wrapping around his cock—kneading him, massaging him, pulling at his erection. He felt another wriggle up his ass and groaned so loudly the sound echoed across the firmament. A thin shaft serpentined its way down his slit and into his hard erection. He could feel it spreading through his shaft and reaching up into his belly. Two more flowed into his ears as another wound its way up his nostril and into the complexity of his seething brain. He lay impaled by the coppery mass of silk and yet his desire, his lust, continued to grow until he was nothing more than a writhing mass of passion.

“Take me, mo Regina,” he begged, his voice filled with panting.

“All of you? All that is yours?” She whispered.

Some sane part of him tried to say no but the thing that was winding its way up his anus was bringing such unbelievable delight to his groin, he could not speak. He merely nodded at her question, too far gone in his lust to do anything else.

The lock of cinnamon hair that had wound around his cock tightened its hold until it was painful, but he did not care. Another was cording his balls, the pain of that only increased the pleasure.

“I want your seed, Reaper,” She told him.

“Take it,” he managed to pant. Sweat had replaced the coppery drops of rain on his flesh. His temperature was soaring until he felt as though he were lying directly upon the sun.

Her hair was touching him everywhere and when She reached down to grip his nipples with Her fingers, he thought he would die from the intense pleasure-pain Her touch caused. She was twisting his flesh, pulling, digging Her sharp fingernails into the hardened little nubs until he felt blood seeping from the wounds.

Her body floated over his and She lowered it until the peaks of Her glorious breasts pressed against his chest and yet still Her fingers tormented his paps.