Authors: Kate Douglas
Crystalfire (11 page)
He was, after all, a scholar. And hadn’t Alton mentioned using something like this? He’d have to ask him, if he could figure out a way to bring up such a thing in conversation. He couldn’t recall ever once discussing anything of a sexual nature with Alton, even when they’d been boys.
Something else to consider. He raised his head and looked into Willow’s blue eyes. “Now what?”
She smiled, that secretive smile that had to be something instinctive for women. Then she lay back down and spread her legs. “Now you do what you were doing before, except we don’t worry about puppies. And Bumper? I would advise you to take a nap.”
Without waiting to see if Bumper complied or not, Taron positioned himself over Willow once again. This time, he used his fingers to open her, pressed the tip of his erection against her soft petals and slowly pressed forward.
And quickly stopped. “There’s a barrier there. I wasn’t thinking, Willow. You’re a virgin. Completely untried. This will hurt you.”
“Then do it quickly so it doesn’t hurt for as long.”
He stared at her, at the smile on her face and shook his head. “Are you sure? We can wait.”
She tilted her head and then pushed herself up on her elbows where she studied him as if he were a bug on the wall. “And how long do we wait? It will still hurt the first time, right? Now, Taron. We do it now. I thought you were through acting the coward.”
“I am,” he said, somewhat embarrassed that she’d reminded him. The beast reared its head before Taron had a chance to consider what he was about to do. He tilted his hips forward and in one quick thrust, buried himself completely. Willow gasped and clutched his arms with both hands.
Taron held perfectly still, amazed by what he’d just done. By the amazing sensations he was suddenly feeling.
Willow took a couple of deep breaths and then seemed to relax. “Go ahead,” she said. “It hurts, but I know it’s got to get better.”
He forgot about how good it felt and stared at Willow. Frowning, he asked, “How do you know that?”
“That’s obvious.” She looked at him as if he lacked the brain cells necessary to function. “Do you think everyone would be doing it all the time if it always hurt?”
“No, Willow.” Chuckling, he leaned close and kissed her. “I imagine you’re right.” Slowly he pulled out, then slipped back in just as carefully. Her inner muscles rippled along his full length and his entire body tightened. She raised her hips, giving him better access. He didn’t want to think about access or technique or anything else. Nothing but how good this felt.
How right. He felt that strange side of him pushing at his mind, the wild creature he’d not known until now. That beast that preferred acting to thinking.
There was a lot to be said for such an approach at times.
This was most definitely one of those times. He moved his hips forward, pushing deep into Willow’s warmth, pulled back, and then pushed forward again. Then again, and again, building up speed, reveling in the sweet friction as he filled her over and over. Willow lifted to him, meeting him on each thrust. She wrapped her legs around his waist and clutched his shoulders with both hands, clinging to him, holding him close.
Each thrust felt better than the one before, each rippling pulse as her inner muscles tightened around him, pulled him deep, held him as he drew back for another surge forward—each better than the last, until he didn’t think he could contain the joy, the amazing pleasure, the sense of joining she gave him.
Her eyes were closed but she smiled, and he wondered where she was, what she thought and saw as they did this amazing dance, as their bodies connected and they each discovered an ability to experience sensations neither of them had felt before, to be part of such an amazing act of trust.
To be this close, this connected to another person. It was utterly unbelievable. Indescribable, though he knew he would never of tire trying to find the right words.
The wild side reared its head and told him to stop thinking of words, but this time, the scholar beat him back. It was too important to just feel—he had to understand what they did.
Finally he was experiencing something that had always been beyond reach. Without any risk at all. This was truly joyful. Unimaginably joyful, but safe. He wasn’t in love. They were just having a really great time, enjoying an amazing experience that was new to both of them.
He felt her body clench tighter. Her muscles rippled spasmodically around his erection and he felt the first stirrings of her climax, but this time he felt it from the inside, and it was indescribable. There was an unexpected tightening in the small of his back, a sensation as if he’d gotten an electrical shock that ran from his spine to his balls, down the length of his cock.
It happened so fast, was so unexpected, that when Willow’s orgasm wrapped itself around him, he’d not known he was going to come at the same time. He felt the heat of his climax boil up and out of his balls, felt the tight clench of muscle and the rush of his ejaculate as it raced the length of his cock and exploded into the tip of the sheath.
The shout that burst out of him surprised Taron. He’d not expected to make any noise, not realized exactly how it would feel when his climax hit, literally exploding through his body with a force unlike anything he’d ever experienced.
But he shouted like a fool and blamed the beast, that uninhibited creature he’d only just met. Then his arms turned to jelly and he collapsed on top of poor Willow, who, for some reason, didn’t seem to mind at all that she had a near-comatose Lemurian lying full out over her body.
Her breasts were smashed beneath his chest, her tousled hair tickled his nose and he was still buried deep inside her warm channel, still pulsing with the last vestiges of his orgasm. She’d wrapped her arms around him the moment he landed, and the sensation of being hugged inside and out was a most amazing experience.
Her muscles clenched and rippled over his full length, and it was utterly exquisite. He’d never felt anything like this. Nothing else had ever come close—so wonderful he didn’t even try to move.
Willow seemed to be able to breathe. At least she was still hugging him. She certainly wasn’t trying to push him off.
He’d move. Later. When he got his strength back.
Her vaginal muscles tightened around him in a slow, almost hypnotic rhythm. He found himself clenching his own muscles in response, realized he was becoming aroused once again.
Was that possible?
It must be, though he was almost certain he couldn’t use the same condom again. Slowly, carefully, he withdrew from Willow’s warmth. She mumbled a soft protest as he rolled away from her and walked the short distance to the bathroom where he disposed of the condom. Then he went back to the bed, dug out another one and covered himself.
He was already hard. Willow looked like she was almost asleep, but he didn’t think she’d mind, not if her orgasm had felt as delightful as his.
Taron knelt between her legs again. Willow opened her eyes, smiled and spread her legs wider. Chuckling softly, Taron slipped between her buttery folds. This time he would make it last. This time he’d be ready for his orgasm so that it wouldn’t sneak up on him and surprise him like that first one had.
This time. And if not this time, maybe the time after, or the next. What had he been thinking, telling himself they’d do this only once? He really was a fool. An idiot. An absolute idiot.
Did it really matter?
He gazed into Willow’s beautiful blue eyes. She watched him with a lazy, sated expression, one he knew he could bring back to full arousal.
It really didn’t matter if he was a fool. At least, Willow didn’t seem to care. No. It didn’t matter at all as, once again, he found that amazing rhythm.
And again he took that simple journey toward unimaginable joy.
Chapter 8
Dawson wheeled the big SUV into the parking lot at the trailhead to the Boynton Canyon vortex. Ginny’s rental Yukon was the only car in the small lot. There was no sign of Ginny or Alton, but the sky was filled with ravens, silently circling overhead like a slowly spinning tornado.
The four of them got out of the vehicle and stared at the huge flock of birds. Dawson pushed his baseball cap back from his eyes. “That’s really weird. Ravens rarely circle so quietly. They tend to be pretty vocal.”
“Normal ravens, maybe.”
Eddy looked too tired even to smile as she said it. They’d been up for hours dealing with this latest invasion of demonkind. All of them were exhausted, but Eddy was right.
There was nothing at all normal about the flock circling against the brilliant blue of the Arizona sky—a flock that appeared to be growing. Not only did the birds move in a steady, silent pattern, but there was a sense of evil so pervasive it was impossible to ignore.
A shiver ran along Dawson’s spine. He glanced at Dax. “Any sign of Alton or Ginny?”
Dax shook his head. “I imagine they’re inside the vortex. I can’t feel them anywhere out here.”
Eddy nodded in agreement. “It’s not far. Let’s go.”
She checked her sword, turned away, and headed toward the trailhead while Dawson locked up the car. Selyn waited for him, and the two of them walked together behind Eddy and Dax.
Daws kept glancing over his shoulder at the ravens, but the silent birds took no notice of the four of them climbing the trail to the vortex. He needed to call his assistant. Esteban Romero had noticed the odd animal behavior before, enough that Dawson had convinced the others they needed to tell the assistant vet exactly what was going on.
It hadn’t been hard to convince the man they had a problem—not after Dawson showed him how to suck up demons as they escaped from their caged hosts, using his shop vacuum and plastic bags.
Now though, Dawson needed to check in with him and discover if he was still seeing as many possessed animals as he’d taken in a couple of days ago. There had to be an end to the influx of demons. Isra had counted a huge number of them directed through the portal by the demon king, but Dawson and the others had killed hundreds over the past couple of days.
There had to be another open portal.
Dax paused before a solid wall of red rock. He shaded his eyes with his hands and stared once again at the circling ravens. After a moment he turned away. “They don’t appear to be going anywhere. In fact, I have a strong feeling they’re waiting for something. C’mon.” He walked straight into the rock. Eddy followed.
Dawson gazed at the solid wall of stone and wondered if he’d ever get used to seeing that—people just walking right through solid rock as if it didn’t exist.
No. There was no way in hell he’d ever believe his eyes. He’d do it without question, but it was one of those things you just had to accept on faith.
He glanced at the woman beside him. He’d accept energy portals the same way he accepted Selyn’s love. If he really thought about it, about how perfect she was, how impossible it was that anyone like her would love someone like him, he’d know it couldn’t be true. Just like walking into solid rock, he’d have to accept it on faith alone—accept the fact she loved him for whatever reason, and count himself the luckiest bastard alive.
She gazed at him out of those gorgeous blue eyes and took hold of his hand. He couldn’t help himself. He leaned in close and kissed her. “I love you,” he said, because he loved saying the words and meaning them with every beat of his heart. Loved knowing she believed him and loved him right back.
Loved the dreamy look she got on her face whenever he reminded Selyn just how much he loved her, but before she could answer, he stepped past her and walked directly into the cliff.
Some words didn’t need an answer. Some feelings went too deep, were too powerful to question, but Selyn was smiling broadly as she followed him, as the two of them passed through what looked like solid stone, into the vortex.
Just like that. His scientifically trained mind said it couldn’t be done. The little kid science geek who still appeared to rule his world merely grinned at the fact it was proof all things were possible.
All things, including Selyn’s love.
“Hey, Alton.” The Lemurian nodded in response to Dawson’s greeting. He and Ginny were standing just inside the cavern, while Dax and Eddy waited against the wall to their left. Ginny faced the back wall with her sword, DarkFire, held in both hands. Dawson and Selyn stepped to one side so that Ginny would have plenty of room to work.
“We figured you two were in here.” Dawson wrapped his arm around Selyn’s waist and the two of them stood beside Dax and Eddy, watching Ginny’s amazing sword do its job.
Dark purple fire shot from DarkFire’s amethyst blade and spread over a glowing red portal. The stench of sulfur filled the small cavern, but there was no sign of live demons.
Eddy asked, “How many were there?”
Alton glanced at Ginny before answering. “At least two dozen inside the cavern, but we have no idea how many might have come through before we got here, how many escaped through the portal to the outside. As soon as we finish here, we need to check the other portals. If this one’s been reopened, odds are the others have as well.”
Dawson nodded toward the gateway that led out of the cavern. “What about the ravens? You guys were right. They certainly aren’t acting very raven-like. How can we catch them?”
“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.” Ginny lowered DarkFire. The sword no longer gleamed with purple fire, and the portal to Abyss was melted shut. Again. “DarkFire says they’re waiting for all of us to show up together. They’re massing to attack.” She sighed, obviously ready to fold. “You guys ready?”
“The question is,” Dax asked, laughing, “are you?”
Ginny punched his shoulder. “Well, if your big, blond buddy wouldn’t keep me awake half the night ...”
“Me?” Alton leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “You’re blaming me?”
“Gotta blame someone.” Ginny tugged his hand, wrapped her fingers around his and kissed him. “I guess this is what comes of too many years of not getting laid.” She laughed. “For both of us. And I’m not complaining ...”
Alton kissed her again. Then he gently cupped her face in his big hand. “In my opinion, it was worth going all those years without because I finally got you.”
Then, as if he’d not just said something so intimate and sweet it left Ginny standing there with a bemused grin on her face, he reached into his scabbard and withdrew HellFire. “I think we’re all as ready as we’re going to be. C’mon.”
The others quickly unsheathed their swords, but the mood had definitely changed. Crystal flashed within the small cavern. A sense of purpose Dawson had quickly learned to recognize as a combination of their own readiness for battle along with that of the intelligence behind their swords filled the air.
He’d quickly learned the sentience within each blade was more than a disembodied voice, more than the flash of power. Their swords housed the living souls of warriors.
Knowing he had such a powerful ally gave Dawson courage such as he’d never felt in his life, and Selyn’s love gave him the most tangible reason to fight he could ever imagine.
Whatever he did, he did for her.
He took her hand, squeezed her fingers.
Are you ready?
Are you ready?
I am.
Together, with swords drawn, they followed the others through the portal—a single step that took each of them out of one dimension and into another as they exited on the other side.
It was like marching into hell.
Shrieks and howls and the stench of sulfur filled the air.
Daws looked up. “Holy shit.” He grabbed Selyn and moved away from the rock face, but he kept his gaze locked on the sky. Where there had been hundreds of ravens only moments ago, there were now thousands of birds of every imaginable species. Hawks and pigeons, blackbirds and sparrows. Ducks and geese, crows and more ravens.
The noise grew louder, the stench of sulfur stronger. Dawson and the others found their fighting positions as if they’d choreographed each step, moving smoothly into a defensive circle.
Side by side, back to back, they stood in an open area and waited.
“Remember,” Dax said. “We cannot harm the avatars.”
“I’ll bring them down,” Ginny said. “DarkFire will render them unconscious without harming them, but you guys have to take care of the demons.”
No one questioned what she said. Ginny’s sword among all of them showed powers unique to its amethyst blade. A woman once known as Daria—her mind filled with a wealth of memories and experience—was the sentience within Ginny’s sword.
Daria, called DarkFire, enabled Ginny to accomplish things none of the others could do, things, it appeared, that included knocking demon-possessed birds out of the sky without harming them.
At least, that’s what Dawson was hoping.
“Here they come!” Selyn’s shout had them quickly tightening their positions. Alton took Ginny’s back as she stepped away from the others and held DarkFire high. The birds spun out of their whirlpool of flight and streaked toward the ground like a single shrieking, screaming feathered beast.
Ginny’s blade began to glow. A brilliant flash of dark light shot from the tip and Ginny swung her sword in a wide arc.
Purple light hung in the sky, a transparent shield of shimmering amethyst that covered the six of them. Banshee howls grew louder, closer, as the birds spun out of the sky and flashed toward the arc of light. The first few hit the shield. Their squawks and screams abruptly died as they broke through the barrier and tumbled lightly to the ground.
“Now!”
Dax leapt forward and slashed at the black mist that exploded from the first birds to fall. Careful not to step on any of the stunned birds, he spun and swung in a shower of sparks.
Dawson and Selyn took their stand on the other side of Ginny. As the birds crossed through DarkFire’s light, their bodies went limp, their rate of descent slowed, and they tumbled through the shield. The demons immediately tried to escape their suddenly worthless hosts, but Dax and Eddy, Selyn, Alton, and Dawson moved in a macabre dance, finding their rhythm, reaching out for the fleeing black mist with their deadly crystal blades.
They shouted their victories as hundreds of demons turned from black, oily wraiths to nothing more than sparks and stench and dust as they died.
Birds huddled in dazed groups on the rocky ground.
Ginny turned, moving DarkFire’s beam of purple light as more and more birds continued to attack. Many veered away before reaching the shimmering barrier, but many others flew into it.
Those that passed through, passed out. They dropped to the ground and their demons fled, but none escaped.
Dawson’s arm grew tired and he watched Ginny with growing concern. Her arms trembled with the effort of holding her crystal sword, yet the birds continued to attack. They’d all been exhausted when the battle began, but never before had they fought so many.
“Ginny? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, Daws. I think so.”
He didn’t think she sounded all that okay.
Alton had been watching her as well. He sheathed HellFire, moved close to Ginny and stood behind her. Then he wrapped his hands around Ginny’s and helped her hold DarkFire high.
Dawson slashed his blade through another demon. He glanced up and caught Dax looking his way. Pointing to his blade, he asked, “Do these things ever run out of energy?”
“I hope not. This is the most prolonged battle I’ve been in. A test if there is to be one.”
“Great.” Dawson stepped over a pile of dazed birds and caught a demon as it shot out of a downed eagle. The raptor sat on the ground and stared with dazed eyes, but at least it was unharmed.
The demon died in a flash of smelly sparks.
Birds were beginning to recover, regaining consciousness once their demons were gone. Dawson noticed dozens of them moving out from under the shield, waddling away and taking flight. Even as they left, more attacked.
Ginny’d been right. There was something well beyond Isra’s reported demon sighting going on here. Even more than Markus had reported. More demons than Dawson had ever seen at any one time, in any single place. Once again he slashed his blade through a thick burst of oily, black mist. Once again he watched as sparks faded to stinking smoke.
Another demon burst out of yet another dazed bird, a duck this time that landed almost at his feet. He raised his sword with an arm almost too tired to obey, and killed yet another of the wraiths. As the crystal sword completed its arc, he lowered his trembling arm and wondered how many of the portals to Abyss had been reopened.
How long could they continue to fight an enemy that never seemed to run out of combatants, no matter how many they killed?
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