Noah, p.12
Noah, page 12
“I won’t spend a moment more than I have to near you,” she declared in hot defiance of all she was thinking and feeling. She dared to look up at him directly, and his smiling response infuriated her.
“I see. You are afraid of me.”
“No, I’m sick of you. After half a year of your games and manipulations, I’ve had more than enough!”
“A game you played just as adroitly, Kikilia. With a skill to outshine mine.”
“Don’t call me that!” she snapped, the nickname solidifying his claims on her dreams and her memory of her part in them.
Noah understood her pique probably better than she realized. Why it served to fascinate him further was momentarily beyond him. She was used to being in control, used to being the one to dictate terms. It was written in everything she said and all of her actions. A personality trait he could identify with entirely. A trait he found unbelievably intriguing.
“I could easily remind you of the rewards to the games we have played in our sleep, Kestra,” he said with that incredible arrogance that grated on her. Only, somehow, while standing so close to him in reality, it didn’t feel as grating as she would hope. She reached out the short distance between their bodies to lay her palm on his chest, intending to push him out of her personal space. She needed to breathe, needed to think without his warmth and magnetic presence playing havoc with her electrified senses.
Her fingertips and palm slid up against his solar plexus, nestling firmly into the space beneath the arch of his ribs. Through the heavy fabric of his shirt, a loose, navy satin that was thick and so smooth she couldn’t feel a single seam in the stitching, she felt the resistance of abdominal muscles. Tight, impressive ridges of sinew coasted down the length of her hand, heat backing the penetrating thought that he was in incredibly good shape. But hadn’t she known that already?
Yes and no. Dreaming was one thing, reality clearly another.
Kestra felt a moment of instant panic as she realized what her touch was doing to her senses and her resolve. He didn’t even have to do anything, and she was already contemplating things she absolutely should not and could not think about.
“You’ve had more than your share of fun, messing around inside my head,” she said softly. “Why can’t you just leave it at that and let me go in peace? You’re stronger than I, a better fighter than I, and clearly prevailing in a dozen other ways. Can’t you take a gracious victory and just let me go?”
“Is that what you think this is about? Some sort of contest?” he asked. “That has never been my intention.”
“What exactly are your intentions?” she demanded, meeting the unusual gray and jade coloring of his bright eyes. “Why is it so important to you to humiliate me like this?”
“If you feel humiliated, Kestra, it is purely by your own device. There is nothing for you to be ashamed of. Why should what you feel be a source of shame?”
“Stop it. Just stop talking like that, like we are … like we know each other! I don’t know you. You’re a complete stranger to me.”
“But is that not how people like you and me relate best when it comes to intimacies with the opposite sex? The less known the better? Passionate bodies without reserve and inhibitions, while our minds and our hearts remain safely put away?”
It was too close to the truth for Kestra’s comfort. How he knew that was beyond her. It made her flush uncharacteristically.
“Is that what you want? Is all of this about fulfilling the dream? Will a quick tumble in your bed make you let me go about my business?”
“Quick?” He chuckled, the deep sound resonating across her neck, near where his lowered head hovered. “I am beginning to wonder if you paid any attention at all these past six months.”
The innuendo struck its intended mark, causing a burst of excited chills to shimmy over every surface of her skin. Perhaps it was a memory response, because she absolutely remembered the nature of his inference. In her dreams, he had never …
Dreams!
It was just a dream! There was no reality to it! In dreams, a body could do anything it wanted to. No one could have the stamina he had portrayed through the long nights they’d spent entwined in her mind. No man could be that patient and skilled. No male would ever be so sensitive to the needs of a woman’s body.
Kestra struck out at him hard, her other hand joining her first, and she pushed him away with all of her might and all the leverage she could muster from the door behind her back.
“Get away from me!” In spite of all her effort, he merely stepped back. He was just as close as ever. “I swear to God, I will hurt you if I have to!” she threatened him, her entire body trembling with fury and frustration.
Even though he knew she couldn’t really cause him harm, Noah decided it was best to back off for the moment. He stepped back again, giving her room to breathe. She exhaled hard, relaxing against the door as if she’d just expended more than her limit of strength and energy. She probably had. Her emotions ran just as hot as his did, she just usually hid them beneath a veneer of culture, quick-thinking diplomacy, and logic. Exactly as he did. It was an extraordinary thing, seeing a female version of the most essential parts of himself. It made him wonder what would happen as she began to change. What type of Druid would she become? What power would be at the disposal of the woman meant to be the mate of a Demon King?
Noah knew he should warn her of all the things she would start to experience. He knew he couldn’t truly promise to let her go off on her own, at least not for any real length of time. She would be in danger of illness so early in the transformation from human to Druid if she was away from the resources his energy provided for her.
But she was a woman used to her freedoms, and he didn’t have the heart to take everything away from her all at once. He would find a way to let her go and keep her just the same—if he had to. He was hoping he could think of a way to coax her to stay. He wished that in all this time he’d learned something more useful about her than the ways around her incredible body. Still, it was impossible to regret a single moment of that time or think of it as wasted.
“I’m going to leave,” she said, her breath rapid and deep as she called him on his offer. “I thank you for your gracious invitation, but I’m afraid it’s impossible for me to stay.”
Noah lifted a single brow at her, and she realized a moment too late what she’d done. Out of habit, she’d fallen back on her finishing-school manners, and by doing so, had given away an important piece of information about herself. Should he decide to look for her, hunt her down in the future, it would make it easier to find her. No one could ever truly cut themselves off from their past. It was her one real weakness, and she’d just given him ammunition to exploit it.
“I will have someone take you to a hotel near a local airport. That will get you as far as Heathrow, but from there you will be on your own, as far as your passport and other things are concerned. You will not need to worry about money. I will arrange for a room in your name and you can freely charge anything you need to that bill. I will take care of it.”
“I don’t need your charity. I’m—”
“Quite capable of caring for yourself, I know. But I can tell by your expression that you were not expecting to be so far from home and resources. Since that is my fault, it is only right that I correct it. Wait here. I will send someone up to you shortly.”
He took her elbow into his hand, gently moving her out of his way so he could pass through the door. She quickly closed it in his wake, leaning back on it and exhaling as if she hadn’t drawn a breath in days.
Noah sat before his hearth in the Great Hall.
For all of sixty seconds.
Then he stood up and began to pace across the width of the large fireplace. The fire within gave him little comfort. He felt as though his skin were screaming, as if it would abandon his body and run away if it could.
He’d actually managed to let her go.
True, it had only been a few hours, but already he was strung tighter than he could have ever expected. At the moment, it wasn’t because he couldn’t control the cravings of his body, although the battle was more intense than ever now that they’d stood in each other’s presence. It was the understanding that he’d touched her more than enough to start the emergence of her Druid self, and that she was completely ignorant as to how deadly her distance from him could potentially be these next couple of weeks.
Noah didn’t plan to stay away long, even if he could. Unfortunately, time was against him. Just as it had been against him when she had died at the very moment she’d finally been within millimeters of his grasp. Besides her needs during her physical transformation, Samhain was imminent. Come Samhain full moon, Imprinted couples couldn’t bear to be apart, even in the slightest, for any length of time. That holy day, as well as the spring full moon of Beltane, called to their basest instincts. It drove them to each other’s arms as if it were the last day on earth they would ever spend together. It was violent and hot and loving to the point of making the soul wrench out tears of bliss and agonizing need.
He needed to win her over before that happened.
But Samhain was four days hence, and with a woman like Kestra, trust and acquiescence didn’t come that easily.
Noah sat down again, rubbing his right temple as he scowled, the firelight deepening the dark look even as it illuminated it. He would have to be more resourceful now than he ever had been in his lifetime.
Chapter 8
Kestra sat down with a sigh of relief she simply couldn’t help.
She ran both hands back over her slick, wet hair, smoothing it back until large droplets of water pattered down onto her back, shoulders, and the plush white towel she had wrapped around herself.
She felt better now, although it had taken a sauna and a shower to achieve it.
Or at least she was determined to feel better.
She was glad to be free again, there was no denying that. At the same time, it had been so easy to leave in the first place that she was completely baffled. She couldn’t even begin to get the logistics of how she’d ended up in rural England, in a legitimate castle, with a fairly impressive man doing the whole lord-of-the-universe attitude to suit it.
By her tally, she’d used up about half of her nine lives in that day alone. It was a miracle she’d escaped without a scratch, the worst damage being that she was stuck in Europe without clothing, money, or her passport. All of which could be fixed before her hair dried.
She reached for the phone and dialed quickly.
“Yeah?”
“Ah, James. I can always count on you for a cultured greeting.”
“Kes! Where the hell have you been? I’ve been half out of my mind!”
Kestra heard something crash on the other end of the phone and she smiled with the familiarity of it. It made her feel more grounded to hear him do something as habitual as jumping out of his chair so enthusiastically that it fell over.
“James, if you lost the last half of your mind, that would leave you with an empty skull and you would start to collect dust bunnies in there.”
“Kes,” he growled impatiently. “It’s been all over the news for days. Gunfire at the hotel, at the very suite I sent you to a week ago. They found men there crushed into little pieces and I’ve been freaking out! I thought you were in jail or dead or something like that.”
A week?
“I’m in England, actually,” she said absently, trying to figure out how she’d lost an entire week. It had felt like a day, two at the very most. Could a person sleep for the better part of a week without waking? Maybe others could, but she never had.
There was silence on James’s end of the line, so complete that she thought she could hear his heartbeat through the receiver.
“England?”
“Yes. Long story short? Yes, I had a very bad day yesterday—umm, last week—and I’m still alive and well. I’ll try and explain England when I get home, but I can’t make you any promises. At the moment, I need money and my passport, and I’d appreciate it if you opened the charge accounts at the usual places.”
“Okay, wait a minute …” James made a half-laughing grunt. “How the hell did you get into England without your passport? And for that matter, why have you traveled without money for an entire week? Why would you? All you had to do was pick up the damn phone.” He interrupted himself. “Wait. I know. It’s a long story, right?” Jim sighed into the silence on the other end of the line. “Fine. Consider it FedEx’d by nine a.m. my time. I’ll have the money and accounts opened by the time you hang up. Are you at least going to be home in time to do a few more run-throughs of our next gig?”
“I always am. Thanks for your help, partner. I could never survive without you.”
“Yeah. Uh … Kes … one more thing?”
“Mmm?”
“Did we get paid before the deal went sour?”
Kestra’s breath hitched tellingly in her throat. She slapped herself in the forehead and made a little sound of frustration. “I knew I was forgetting something.”
Noah entered his bedroom from the bath. He ran a towel absently over his hair as he crossed to the large wardrobe situated on the left side of the bed where Kestra had slept off his siphoning of her energy. The Demon King withdrew soft kid breeches from the wardrobe, as well as hunting boots and a simple, loose-sleeved silk shirt.
He thought about her as incessantly as ever as he dressed. More than that, even, because he was unable to help his distinct worry over her dangerous position as she ran around in the world without him. What was more, it had finally occurred to him to really wonder what in hell had been going on in her life that had put her on the other end of a hot pistol in the first place. Never mind the potential danger to her health because of their separation; what dangers were out there that had nothing to do with him?
He was worried. It weighted his heart in his chest, this dreadful fear that he hadn’t done the right thing. It was bad enough he hadn’t taken her from that time and place before she’d been killed the first time around. Had he thrown her back in search of a freedom that would only get her killed once again? And this time, there would be no way of fixing it. This time, after having begun the process of tying her to him and himself to her, he wouldn’t be able to bear going on without her. He would already be emotionally incapable. Perhaps he had been for months.
Noah had to turn his thoughts away from that for the moment. In spite of having fetched her and brought her to him, as the Samhain moon approached, he was still in a fragile state of mind. He couldn’t help it. In spite of having regained a modicum of control otherwise, he couldn’t see straight when he thought about her vulnerability. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to retrieve her and demand she stay by his side for all time. Which, in all honesty, was what he was supposed to be doing. She wasn’t even aware that he was being generous with his gift of freedom.
Noah knew he was merely perpetuating an illusion to try to ease the shock of what was going to happen.
Noah sighed heavily as he finally sat down in the chair that he’d held watch in as she’d slept. He rested his boots beside his feet and leaned back, rubbing at his weary eyes. He could replenish his energy again and again if he wanted to, a blessing of his power that had allowed him to avoid sleep for long periods of time in the past, even when faced with the lethargy the sun induced in his kind. However, there was no true substitute for the repairing comfort of sleep. The body healed and recovered from the long night’s exertions when it slept, cycling away toxins and other by-products of an active lifestyle while rest and dreams soothed the psyche.
In all honesty, though, he was afraid of dreaming.
She was so close now.
Would his dreams be stronger, more powerful than ever before? Even more irresistible and tormenting? He’d barely survived those endless nights of imagined pleasure and completion, waking every single evening with it all suddenly out of his reach, falsely played, but remembered by his aching body and desperately pounding heart. In a way, he’d made love to her over and over again already, and yet he was now farther away from her than if they were total strangers.
Were they strangers, or were they lovers? What did she think and feel when she looked at him? Was it anything like the struggle he was currently suffering? If so, how could he even begin to go about easing her way, without allowing his own selfish needs to get in the way?
It was impossible. Especially as the moon waxed and the sacred holiday approached. The Demon King would be unable to resist the need to be with her, in her bed, and inside her body, which had been so perfectly designed for his. The hunger and the draw of her was an instinct of the ages, and no one dared try to circumvent it; those who had were never successful. With the full moon four nights away, Noah knew he had to find a way. He had only one chance to make her understand her future in a way that would make it a blessing instead of an entrapment. He would sacrifice anything to make that happen.
The Demon King lurched impatiently out of the chair, pacing the floor with his hands locked tightly onto his hips. It took a third wide circuit of frustration before he heard the knock at his door.
“I do not wish to be disturbed!” he barked to whoever was on the opposite side.
“My lord, your guest has returned,” was the tentative response.
Noah stopped dead in his tracks.
“Seclude her, John, in one of the private parlors. I will be there in a moment.”
Why was she back?
Apparently that detail didn’t matter to the rest of him. His entire body was quickening with elation and the need to lay eyes on her again. It had only been half a day since she’d left, and already it seemed like half a year.
