A Spartan's Kiss (15 page)

His soft breath feathered over her face. Holding hers for fear of whimpering, she fought the urge to worry her bottom lip. Would this be her first kiss?

One brief contact of his mouth to hers hit her like a blast spell, rocking her system with pleasure. His kiss was warm, soft and insistent. He moulded his hands behind her head and pulled her up, licking along her mouth like he couldn’t wait to taste her. Her breath left her. He captured her parted lips and slid inside to stroke his tongue along hers, emitting a low rumbling sound from his chest. His erection burnt against her stomach. He drew back only slightly before devouring her again. He pressed and coaxed until, with more courage than she’d ever drawn from before, she tentatively brushed her lips over his, drawing her hands up to lightly touch his hair.

He groaned loudly, and his body tensed along the length of hers. She smoothed her hands over his broad shoulders, realising in that moment how much she’d wanted to do just that. She wanted to dig into his muscles and feel how powerful he was. Let him take the burden of being strong away, if only for a moment, a day, a night. Something deep inside her chest blossomed and loosened at the same time. Releasing something she’d not ever been able to let go of. Anxiety melted under his warmth and strength. His kiss became ragged, urgent, but wonderful at the same time. His hands dug under her and easily meshed her to him from lips to hips. One hand pulled her closer by her hip, the other curled under her shoulders as he made growling noises in his throat.

“Tabithia, you taste so sweet.” Seconds after the words passed his lips, he crushed her mouth to his again, not letting her respond, let alone think. The world melted away, and, in its place, Aeros stroked her to a heat she knew would burn her, but she couldn’t resist rubbing against his thick thigh to stoke it.

As soon as she did, his arms turned to steel holding her and his body trembled. He whispered her name again, as if saying a prayer against her mouth. The next second, light and noise broke the spell like cold water. Aeros jerked away, pulling her up, and muttered some kind of curse she couldn’t quite make out.

Dirt fell from them like rain. Her heart raced, her body still hot, and she felt confused and suddenly more alone than ever before. Jerking from his grip, she brushed herself off and glared at any of the men that chanced her gaze. Aeros opened his mouth once, but she hissed at him and held up a hand.

“Don’t. Just don’t. By all that’s holy, you guys are too much. Next time I say don’t move, don’t move.”

She simmered with heat and shame. Had he been disgusted? In the one brief glance she’d shot him, he looked heated still, and just as frustrated as she felt.

Good.

Marching off, she flung a spell so far ahead she melted the binding spells for hundreds of feet in all three directions. She should leave one or two spells behind to catch the men if they dared to follow her.

She’d practically been moaning. She had been pressing and rubbing against him. Had he liked that? Had he? Or was it just because they were alone and he was horny?

Red tipped her vision at the thought. Anger, she realised. Well, yeah, anger. What if he had simply just been horny and she’d been there, a woman, alone with a man?

But the sound of his voice saying her name, the way he’d looked at her, made her anger sizzle out. He’d not do that. Aeros was strong, a man filled with integrity and, above all, honour. Even if he misplaced some of that on a narcissistic god, Aeros wouldn’t play with her. So that meant…he had wanted her. He wouldn’t lie. She couldn’t image Aeros ever speaking an untruth. He’d wanted her—her, Tabithia, since the first day he’d met her. That night at the pub, he’d seemed off—intense and focused solely on her. Had that been him wanting her?

She gathered her courage and chanced a look at him. The depth of emotion in his eyes floored her. He looked like a man who’d had a taste of something he wanted more of—a man who’d not wait much longer to get more of it.

Holy shit. Holy. Shit. What have I done?

Turning away, heart in her throat, she stumbled.
Focus, Tabithia, focus.
They grew nearer to Dare’s hiding place with every step. Soon enough she’d have to make decisions that would end this experience with Aeros. If she knew one thing about the Spartan, he wouldn’t take betrayal lightly.

Well, I’ve finally found a guy who interests me enough to ask him if I can tie him up and have my way with him, or have him tie me up, but guess what? I have to betray him.

Chapter Ten

Travelling underground wasn’t as much fun as Tabithia would have thought. Not that she’d ever thought it would be fun, but still, the dark, smelly air had her dying to be outside for some serious light and fresh air. She had always lived for the dark. That was before. Now she yearned for the heat of the sun on her face.

So far, they’d been down under for about eighteen hours. The hike hadn’t been so bad. Actually, the steamy cave system wasn’t really a cave, but an underground waterway. Some parts were dry and full of jagged rocks and sand, while others had low pools of stagnant, bug-infested water.
Freakin’ brilliant!

After the rock and roll with Aeros she already felt covered in muck. Now she was
sweaty, and she was wet in areas she normally wasn’t. All in all, she felt dirty and needed a shower more than anything else—including her knife.

They’d run into a few spots where fresh water bubbled up, but nothing she’d chance drinking—certainly nothing to wash in. And she needed to wash—desperately. Knowing Aeros was behind her, staring at her, examining her when she felt so disgustingly dirty had her in a near panic. She’d almost walked into three traps so far simply because she’d been too preoccupied with replaying their kisses.

Dare had been silent. Tabithia sensed she’d laid her traps, but she couldn’t sense more than that. She felt no build-up of energy floating along the cave system signifying a new spell. Oddly enough, she felt as if Dare had vanished. Oh, the chalice still lingered ahead of them, the traps were there, but the signature of the witch was no longer visible. Maybe Dare napped. Who knew? All she knew was it was a good thing the crafty witch wasn’t up and spelling. Already, Tabithia could feel the slow burn that signalled the depletion of her strength. Soon they’d have to stop.

Fingering her medallion, she chanced a glance back at Aeros. Black hair damp with sweat and his golden skin looking dusky, he caught her eye immediately. He looked tense, concerned. He’d asked her several times if they shouldn’t halt for the night. It must be past midnight, but she was still hesitant to quit.

Quitting meant resting. Resting meant dreams. Dreams meant pain. Pain she usually woke to alone. Usually? Always woke to alone. As soon as she’d reached her maturity, fifty-five years according to her coven, she’d booked into her own pad. Too many nights of waking the coven with her screams had made living among others unappealing.

“We need to rest, Tabithia. This magic, it will not attack us if we halt?”

She paused at the sound of his voice. The tingle of remembered pleasure swept through her. She stilled it, hiding it deep before turning to face him. His eyebrows slashed down, concern evident on his strong, handsome face. His muscles looked tense under his T-shirt. He really did look edible in his combat gear.

“Well, no. Not if I cast spells to guard us.” She left off the ‘duh’ from her answer because, true to his word, he had not ordered her. He had even phrased his words with care, adding on a murmured please once or twice, too.

Frowning harder, if possible, he nodded. “This will not harm you?” Dark eyes caught and held hers. If he wasn’t a Spartan, she’d have considered the possibility that he might be a mage undercover. His look nearly had her spilling the truth. Something she didn’t do very often, if at all.

Now she stood straighter and looked him in the eye. No one should ever sense a witch’s weakness.
Bluff if nothing else, but don’t show the stronger, impossibly stronger immortal breeds any limitation to your power.

“No. Weren’t you on board when I parted the seas, big guy?”

Someone covered a snort, while another of the boys outright barked a laugh.

Men.

Aeros simply looked more concerned. “Yes, I was. It must have taken a great deal of your strength.”

“Not even a shot glass full.”

“Shot glass?”

“Yeah, you know? Tequila? Jack?” His frown grew. She smiled. “Okay, never mind. This will do. You all set up camp. I’ll set up protecting it. Don’t leave the markers I place. If you do, I’m not fetching you.”

And while she set the boundaries? She’d add a little one for herself—soundproof—brilliant. She really needed a raise after this trip, seriously. Humming softly, she set off, trying not to pay attention to how Aeros stared after her.

She could feel his eyes like a caress.

When she’d first been rescued by her aunts, she’d woken them every night, and every night she’d awoken to them caressing her forehead, brushing kisses on her chilled flesh. Their touch had soothed and pained her at the same time. But the way Aeros regarded her, as if she was something special he couldn’t seem to stop looking at, that look brought warmth and something more.

The something more had her on edge.

Her aunts weren’t answering her calls. Trouble hadn’t responded to her text. Trouble always answered her. Something had to be wrong, very wrong. That little titbit had her even more on edge. Sorcha was harder to pin down because everyone called her for help. But even she typically responded. Not this time. It was like being thrown to the wolves without any idea where the furry things were or how to keep them from her throat. Alone.

She needed to get some clarity. And, for her, clarity meant either her aunts, a bottle of Jack, or something with a bit more bite.

Pressure. She handled it so well as long as she had her knife. She needed her knife.

Taking a deep breath, she began her protection spells to keep Dare and her trap spells out, even though the other witch had been silent for some time now. Yeah, heck, add that to the list of worries. She was practically passing Sorcha for getting way too involved in other people’s lives.

Reaching a dark, smaller opening in the tunnel, she paused and probed for any action on Dare’s part and felt none. A witch, from the time of the Picts, alive with three Greek gods after her—or Roman? She’d not asked that…but weren’t they the same, after all? Whatever, the woman was amazing. But if the Three had deserted her, then could Tabithia aid her?

And why not? Are you not one of our best warriors?

The holy-shit moment hit at the same time that a brilliant light flooded the slight trail. The cave smell disappeared, and the soft green glow of the sun shining through the branches of trees had her catching her breath. Fragrant scents of forest surrounded her. Sunlight kissed her cheeks, and three people stood before her.

One, the mother of all, stood tall and serene, her mantle dark blue with vines and flowers running around the hem and up the sides of her midnight-blue gown. The only sign of age she displayed was the brilliant white streak that shot through her dark red hair. Not a single wrinkle marred her ageless face, but her eyes were ancient, deep, deadly pools of green. A crow sat on her shoulder, its beady eyes watching Tabithia almost greedily.

Next to her stood the warrior, Bridget, with her golden spear in her fist, the sharp metal forged with swirls and knots etched along the tip to the long end she rested on the ground. A quiver of arrows also peeked out behind her left shoulder where she’d drawn her strawberry blonde braid off to one side. Dressed in leather breeches and a vest of darkest green, she looked like a shield maiden. Blue-eyed, rosy-cheeked and tall, she was the image of confidence.

Standing on the opposite side of the elder stood a child, merely ten or eleven, red hair so light it appeared blonde in places. Her blue-green eyes shone bright and curious, but like those of the goddess to her right, they were ancient. In her hands she held a silver goblet and beneath her feet clover and small purple flowers blossomed.

Tabithia considered kneeling but, since she was already standing with her mouth gaping open, she thought closing it would be the best thing to do. Before she fell down, that was. The Three. All three faces of her goddess. Here. Now.

“Ha, you look more like a scared rabbit to me.” Bridget tilted her head to the side, and her brow furrowed.

Scared? She was petrified. Kneeling was looking better and better.

“We don’t demand such worship from our daughters.” The Crone pushed her mantle aside over one shoulder and lifted the bird up above her before releasing it to fly into the low-hanging branches of the ancient oak trees. “Did you think we would desert you when the most important event of your existence unfolds before you now?”

Bridget snorted. “Not the most important, but you have to get your act together, and this man? The Greek?” Throwing her braid over her shoulder, the goddess gave Tabithia a level look. “He’s going to jump-start that act for you.”

Jump-start her act? Holy moley, she’d just got dating advice from her favourite goddess and wasn’t at all clear on what she’d been told to do.

The eldest sighed heavily and frowned at Bridget. “Enough. Your use of this age’s phrases hurts my ears. She is doing her best. Listen to me, child, this is yours.” She raised her slender arm and indicated the forest around them. “Your strength. Of all your sisters, you gain your power from this world. With it, you can defeat even the gods.”

“And yet you seek to prove yourself in battle by using your blades?” Bridget interrupted, as if they’d argued about her before. It was disturbing on several layers.

Bridget took a step closer, her beautiful face serious. “I am one of three, and your favourite goddess, I know, but you are not using all three of your gifts. You have all three of us flowing through you. You must learn to harness this power, use it, and let it use you if you are going to survive.”