Winded (6 page)

The air screamed around them as if in agreement. “What about
when night falls?”

“If the island remains, they will come,” he said simply.

“So the wards are broken.”

“Not all.” He looked at her. “Breaking through this,” he
patted the rich earth beneath the great stone that sheltered them, “was the
first spell undone. I believe the destruction of your house was the second.”

Vetiver didn’t want to ask, but needed to anyway. “What is
the third?”

“You.” His eyes glowed in the darkened shadows of the
tempest. “The magic in your blood.”

“So I’ll just leave.”

“And in doing so, you will completely unbind the island. The
Daemons have your scent, they will hunger for your strength. They will never
stop hunting you, Vetiver.” His amber eyes regarded her solemnly. “They will
flow out through the portal like an unbreakable tide.”

“Then I’ll kill ’em,” she said, raising her head proudly.
“You saw what I did to them. What I can do.”

“And look at what it cost you. You’ve been asleep for hours.
I couldn’t wake you. Neither could your Familiar. You were exhausted, and those
were but a few Daemons you faced. Their true numbers are unimaginable. From all
you’ve said, from what I’ve seen, they have been waiting for generations to
consume a Device witch and all the power she offers. You have proven a feast
worth fighting for. They will not waste this opportunity to pluck you ripe from
the tree.”

“I’ll kill every last one of them before I let them overrun
my land,” she swore. “Ball will help me. You have no idea how strong we can
be.”

“You won’t have to be strong. The island will sink and the
portal between worlds will be closed.” Boreas’ preternatural gaze darted out
toward the darkest clouds in the sky then back to her. “My storm will drown it
out.”

“No, Boreas.” Vetiver shook her head, pursing her lips
against a sharp pang of desperation. “Please. It doesn’t have to be like that.”

He caught her chin in his hand. “How beautifully you plead.
And how dearly I would love to give you all you wished.” In his eyes there
lurked an apology, but stronger than that was his will to follow through with
what he had started. With what
she
had started when she’d called him
forth. “But in this I cannot compromise. Now the doorway is opened. Daemons
will come. You know the people of this island. What would they do if they were
exposed to such danger? If they learned that every dark fairy tale was real?
That monsters like Daemons roam the darkness? Normal human beings cannot fathom
such mysteries without being driven to acts of madness, you understand this.”

Vetiver swallowed. Damn him, he was right. Most people
couldn’t handle living next door to a girl with strange eyes, morbid clothes
and body jewelry. No one she knew would understand or accept the very real
conditions of living amongst supernatural monstrosities that dined on flesh and
supped on blood whenever the sun set below the shoreline.

There would be chaos in the streets.

The Unnamed were evil. But human beings were violent. Often
times they could be cruel. Combine all three ingredients and the recipe spelled
apocalypse with a capital
please
. Life wouldn’t be worth living in a
world like that.

“What should I do?” she asked, pleading. “This life is all
I’ve ever known. What can I possibly do now?”

“Accept fate. And move on with me.” He reached for one of
her hands and threaded their fingers together.

Vetiver caught her breath. His skin was warm. His grip
strong. And he was lovely.

“You called. I came.” He smiled, as if it were all so
simple. Maybe it was. “You desire me.” His gaze fell to her breasts and she
felt her nipples respond immediately. “I desire you. We can fight side by side,
ensuring the legacy of your bloodline. None of your efforts here need go to
waste.”

She felt a thrill, but one last vestige of reality intruded.
“It won’t work.” Would it? He wasn’t even human. How could they ever really be
together? Desire was one thing. He was talking about a whole new way of life.

“You are a warrior like none I’ve ever seen.” He challenged
her with his gaze to be courageous. “The war I fight is your war too. It is
only the battleground that will change, my little witch.” He brushed a kiss
over her knuckles and bared his white teeth in a smile.

Vetiver conceived every carnal promise lurking in the deep
pools of his amber eyes and realized she wanted all he was offering and more.
“I’m scared,” she admitted.

“I will keep you safe, Vetiver. No harm will come to you.”
He tugged her hand and pulled her across his lap, swooping in for a kiss.

Vetiver put her hand in the silky hair at his nape and
pulled his head down for another kiss. This time, for the first time, she put
all her feelings into the meeting of their lips. All her fears—of him and all
the emotions he inspired within her. All her doubts—of her future, the new and
unmapped path wide open before her bare feet. And all of her desires, because
she
did
want him, more than she would have ever dreamed possible. These
emotions flavored her kiss, and she tasted the need and pleasure in his mouth
generously returned.

Vetiver pulled back and grinned at him, then jumped up and
raced away, knowing he would give chase, thrilling to the danger of this ardent
hunt. Gusts whipped her hair and she let it fly behind her like a cloud of ink,
racing into the trees she’d known all her life. The woods welcomed, opening a
path that would not impede her. No thorn would touch her. No root would trip
her. Though this land was doomed, it knew her and loved her still.

Boreas played the game, letting her hear his footfalls
behind her while he chased. Vetiver laughed and rain drenched her like a
refreshing shower, even as it stung her skin until she was rosy. The sky
rumbled with thunder, the ground beneath her feet trembling in answer.
Anticipation rent the air with a static charge.

That wavering image Ball had shown her, of a girl child with
Vetiver’s hair and Boreas’ eyes…it tugged at her, propelling her, exhilarating
even as it frightened.

If this was to be her last run through the forest, Vetiver
swore it would be a memorable flight. She whispered to earth to lend her speed.
She greeted each tree by name as she passed and bade it farewell. Thorn and
brush grew swiftly at her murmured command, hindering Boreas’ pursuit, eager to
join the play.

If Boreas wanted her, he would have to fight for her.

No witch worth her broom would settle for less.

Vetiver would not settle for less. Boreas was a warrior used
to domination. She would show him that no Device witch, especially this one,
was easily dominated. He may tame wind and storm, but
she
would never be
tamed. Vetiver Device was awakened in her full power and it rivaled that of any
Shikar, radiating from within.

And so she ran. Not to flee. But to celebrate the destiny
that chased hot on her heels, enjoying the calm before the clamor.

Chapter Seven

A gust lifted her. This was no rogue breeze from the
hurricane about to make landfall. Boreas had sent it to slow her down. Vetiver
laughed merrily and turned into it, using it to gather even more speed,
trumping his move. But he had more tricks up his sleeve, more winds to send her
way.

Her body twirled, whirled, all motion. She looked down to
find she was running in midair. The ground inches below her bare toes. As if
ascending a flight of invisible spiral stairs, she went higher with each step.
The earth fell away. She was no longer tied to it.

A particularly strong puff tore her clothes from her body.
She was naked to the storm and to the eyes of the male hunting her. All that
remained of her former self was the heavy armlet, but it slept and offered no
assistance to her plight.

Boreas caught her just as she cleared the canopy of trees.
Looking down, she realized this was exactly where he wanted her.

This was where they would join.

In the event horizon of his typhoon, he marked her as his
own. And Vetiver Device, last witch of Merrymint Island, let her warrior have
his way, because in doing so she was having her way too.

His arms caged her. His chest to her back, he pressed a hot
kiss on her bare shoulder. Raw lust made her muscles tense. Her heart was
beating so hard she was certain he could hear its drumming over the roar of the
hurricane.

He ran his palms down her stomach. Lower. Her skin was slick
from the rain, hot from her run. One of his hands insinuated itself between her
legs, while the other curved around her waist. He turned their bodies round and
round in midair, until she was dizzy with more than desire. His clever fingers
slid between her legs and probed until he discovered her wet, aching clit with
the rough pads of his fingertips.

Boreas turned her to face him. He, too, had shed his
clothing, all of his sensuous, exotic skin bare to her gaze. He was bronze all
over, hairless chest heavy with muscle, abdomen firm and ripped, a perfect six
pack above the line of muscle that led in a downward vee to his loins.

His cock was thick and long. The crown of his erection was
wide, round and rouged with his surging blood. His sac was heavy and tight
beneath the base, which was wider than her wrist, and much thicker around. She
felt a thrill of danger. To take him, she would have to be pliant and ready or
it would hurt.

She was already pliant. Wet. Swollen. Eager. Any pain would
be a pleasure and he would stretch her so tight she was already panting with
eager anticipation for the experience.

He lifted her up with his zephyr and settled her over him.
She willingly opened her legs and wrapped them around his waist. His cock
probed her slit, and with his hands buttressing her ass, he smeared himself in
her silken moisture.

“You’re hot as flame,” he growled, biting her mouth in not
so gentle nibbles.

“You’re as hard as stone,” she gasped, licking his full
bottom lip.

She felt the head of his cock positioned at her entrance and
knew a brief moment of doubt. But he tore through it, as he tore through what
slight barrier remained of her virginity, and claimed her as none had dared
before.

Vetiver would have screamed. But Boreas stole her ability to
breathe, much less cry out. He moved deeper and she realized with a start that
he wasn’t even halfway inside her yet. It was all she could do not to swoon.

With one mighty thrust he seated himself inside, every last
inch filling her whole being. Her vision swam. He rained kisses on her face and
sipped at tears she’d not even known she’d shed.

There was no more pain. Now there was only the slow burn of
desire.

“Move,” she shamelessly demanded. “Move, damn you.”

“Wait a moment,” he cautioned with a small, pleased smile
playing about his lips. “You are new to this. It would punish you to advance in
haste.”

But Vetiver wanted haste. A beautiful, dark wonder bloomed
inside her and it demanded that he move. It wanted friction. It wanted to burst
out in full release.

She started to gyrate her hips, squeezing her sheath around
him, moving for them both. Boreas snarled a curse and gave up all protests,
gifting her with hard, fast thrusts that wrung tiny screams of ecstasy from her
lips. Her breasts bounced in his face as he moved faster, harder, and he caught
one of her nipples between his teeth and gently tugged.

This in turn tugged some magical nerve inside her, making
her clutch his hair in desperation as her cunt squeezed hard around his
fullness then let go in a pulse of wet, dripping heat.

Vetiver heard her own sobs above the din. Her eyes were shut
tight of their own volition, as her body rode through a passionate release like
none she’d ever achieved with the aid of her own hands. This was worlds
different from any sexual contact she’d conceived possible.

Her body was fluid around his hardness.

His skin was hot as fire against her, melting her, making
her soft and wet. Pliant like wax, molten like lava.

She felt her release rain down over his shaft like honey and
felt no shyness, no shame. With Boreas there was no room for such emotions.
Only room for more passion.

He moved faster. Harder. She came again. Her nipples
quivering like blueberries beneath frost, her pussy slurping ravenously at his
impaling girth. Every breath moved through her like a shudder. Her lungs were
on fire. Her heart swollen with joy.

He pressed his face between the pillow of her breasts,
kissing, licking, biting.

She came again.

Her body felt bruised. But he wrung more from her, pumping
his hips furiously as they climbed higher into the stratosphere. Vetiver felt
no chill in his arms. No lightheadedness in the thinner air, because he
breathed into her, feeding her oxygen when she needed it, let her moan and cry
when she had enough in her lungs to spare.

His hair was smooth in her fingers. His muscles taut and
firm. His body mighty and strong.

He rolled them, until she lay on her back on a pillar of air
and he towered above, pumping his hips, arching his back, dripping sweat over
her upturned face and throat.

Something urgent seemed to spur him into action. His face
went slack, his body shuddered. And just when she fell into another climax, he
jerked his cock free of her pussy and spent himself into the air. His cum
spurted in an arc that glittered as it fell. He put three fingers inside her,
letting her ride them as they both came and came and came.

Chapter Eight

Hours passed. It felt like moments only.

The clouds served as their bed. Boreas gathered a dense
canopy to protect them both from the sun, and though they still hovered beneath
the black clouds, no rain or hail touched them. They were a part of the sky but
also separate.