Kairos (18 page)

“I need to show you something, Sulwen.”

I follow him as we walk toward the library. Duncan walks over to a table where an old book lies wide open, as if someone stepped away in the middle of reading it.

“Here.” He points a finger to a paragraph on the worn page.

I pull a chair out and take a seat, then bend over the huge book. Its pages are yellowed with age, the edges worn from frequent use. The writing looks as if it’s been drawn with a quill and written in Old English calligraphy. It’s beautiful, to say the least. I read the text where Duncan pointed.

Through the sands of time shall come the one. Hair of fire. Skin of cream. A child born unto the stars and of a king.

I look up to Duncan. “What does this mean?”

With a contemplative expression on his face, he explains, “The
Kairos
, ancient texts define it as a propitious moment for decision or action. Go on…” He angles his chin toward the pages, motioning for me to keep reading.

I look back down to the page and continue to read.

The time will come when they shall stand as one. One of sun and one of moon.

Duncan takes the seat next to mine and leans in over the book with me. “The text is over one thousand years old. It has been handed down from one Templar to another and rewritten in the language of the times by our scribes.”

My eyes are fixated on the piece of history before me. “Amazing. But what does it mean? It must hold some significance for you to go to such measures to preserve it.” I look over at Duncan. His eyebrows are furrowed in thought, and his fingers are tapping out a staccato beat on the page.

“Hmm.” He pushes back from the table, gets to his feet, and then starts to pace while in deep thought. He stops, and his eyes widen as if he’s figured something out. “By damn. It all makes sense now. It’s you, lass.” He claps his hands together with a loud pop that startles me, and I nearly fall out of my chair.

“What do you mean it’s me? Duncan, none of this makes any sense.”

He rubs his hands together as if he’s found the key to a trunk full of gold. His mouth parts in a knowing grin. “Lass, you’re a star child. That has to be it. It would explain the reason they have hunted you so.”

“Wait a minute. Who has hunted me? What are you talking about?”

He reaches up and pulls at his beard a couple of times. Seemingly resolved, he begins to answer, “They’re called Stratagai, and they are not of this plane.” He sighs and takes his seat again. “You see, there are fissions, or cracks, as you call them, within the Great Barrier. Only those weak of power can cross over without harm. The greater the power, the stronger the resistance.” I nod in understanding as I take in what he’s relaying to me. It’s the first real piece of solid information I’ve gotten since I came here.

“Think of it like crumbs passing through a hole. The larger the chunk, the more likely it is to get stuck.”

“I get it. So what does this have to do with me, and what’s a Star Child?”

“Well, that would be the million-dollar question, now, wouldn’t it? You see, we don’t know what a Star Child is or what his or her purpose is because…you’re the first.”

I glance down to the book and trace the letters before me.
One of sun and one of moon.
What can that possibly mean? I was never any good at solving riddles, and it doesn’t appear that has changed.

Duncan pulls the book closer to him and flips through several pages, briefly pausing before flipping through more.

“I need to study this. Would you mind closing the door on your way out, Sulwen?” His eyes never leave the book as he settles into his chair for a long night of reading and deciphering ancient clues.

Several weeks passed and my daily routine carried on without fault. My time with Logan was scarce, with all of it devoted to honing my skills.

“Duncan, tell me about my ancestors and why the Macgregor bloodline is so important for the wall spell.” I had been calling it that, much to his dismay.

He looks up from his desk and removes his reading glasses. He has such a dignified aura about him. Like a much-better-looking version of Sean Connery. He’s hot for his age. His stony face cracks a brief smirk. He’s always amused by me but tries so hard to hide it. I think he fears growing attached to me.

“It is not called the wall spell, Sulwen, and you well know it.” He’s always so damn proper and eloquently spoken. I guess my Southern upbringing has made me predisposed to slaughtering the English language. “I will tell you the story, but it’s not a short tale. Do you have adequate time to listen?”

I nod enthusiastically. I’d make time if I didn’t have it. This question has been burning in my brain. I need to know why my bloodline has played such an important role in this war. I walk over to his desk and plop down unceremoniously into the chair facing him.

“Speak, oh wise one. I am but your humble student.” I smile deviously at him and receive a real grin back. An honest-to-God real grin. I knew it…he adores me.

He reaches up to loosen his collar. He’s wearing a black button-down beneath a charcoal gray fisherman’s sweater. He’s the picture of a blue-blooded dignitary.

He clears his throat and takes a quick swallow of what I think is Scottish whiskey and then casually leans back in his chair. It creaks a little with his masculine weight but reclines back. He threads his fingers together, and they hang in the air, suspended over his flat stomach. His elbows are on the armrests of his chair. He always strikes this pose when he’s about to tell me something important.

“This story begins as most that I have told you. The Enkelit were at first loyal to their cause, but they later craved the very essence of life that eluded them. You see, when Odin created them, he failed them in one very important area:
emotion
. Unlike you and I, they lack human emotions. They cannot feel pain, fear, love, greed, or any other human emotions. This was something they greatly desired. You know the story of how the Enkelit came to be.”

I nod with rapt attention, hanging on his every word. I’ve been reading the Templar books from the library like they’re my new favorite mystery series.

“Well, lass, Gabriel was the hungriest of the lot. For power, that is. After Odin created the Enkelit, the Jumalat damned them with the emotions they had long sought out. Emotions were thrust upon them full force.” He raises a brow at me and smirks. “You can well imagine how overwhelmed they must have been to suddenly have these unknown feelings running rampant through their systems. I would compare it to a tsunami sweeping over them and drowning everything in its path.” He pauses and takes a drink of his whiskey.

“They came down to Earth to fulfill their every heart’s desire. Carnal knowledge being at the top of the list. Gabriel was of course the first to descend. What he was not prepared for was a sweet Scottish beauty with long auburn curls that glowed like fire in the sun. It is said that she was the bonniest lass in all the lands. She was also betrothed to a chieftain’s son. However, the heart cannot be made to bend to one’s will, and she and Gabriel fell in love with one another.”

He shakes his head with dismay and glances at me. “Gabriel sought permission to wed the young beauty, but Odin denied his request and forbid their relationship to carry on further. As you can imagine this did not sit well with the great Enkelit Gabriel. He went back to the planes and sought out his heart’s desire. They were wed in secret and soon she was with child. Upon his return to Asgard, Gabriel was stripped of his powers and imprisoned until Odin could think of a suitable punishment for his actions. While he was away the young woman was visited by her grandmother, and upon this visit a tonic was slipped into her beverage. Days later she would die and take her unborn child with her to the netherworld. You see lass, her grandmother was a soothsayer, and she was superstitious as to the mixing of blood with a divine being. To protect her clan from the wrath of Odin, she took the life of the woman Gabriel had sworn to love all of his days.”

I wrinkle my brows in confusion. “What’s a soothsayer? I mean, I’ve heard of them, but I never really knew the true meaning behind their purpose in the scheme of things.”

Understanding me, he nods and continues, “A soothsayer is what we now know as a druid.” He pauses for a moment, takes a sip, and then continues. “Upon gaining his freedom Gabriel went back to the planes to find his wife, but instead of a warm embrace he was met with a cold grave. In his rage he slaughtered the village and murdered the grandmother, but not before he cursed the old soothsayer and all the women of her line. As her blood spilled onto the soil, so did the curse flow into her lineage. It is said that the ground shook for three days straight, and the clouds poured red rain from the skies.” He sips his whiskey again and then sets it on the table beside his chair.

“So you see, the lass was a Macgregor, and when a blood sacrifice is made in the name of the clan, all of the bloodline that follows shall carry the curse as well. It is written that the Lady Fate alone has the power to rewrite what has been set in motion.”

“But why only the females in the Macgregor line?”

He ponders this for a second and answers resolutely, “I would speculate it was the blood of the matriarch that covered the soil, and therefore the curse follows the women within the lineage. Curses are not always complex in nature, and yours, my sweet lass, is one of the simplest in making. Ill-fated love never ends well.” He pauses for a minute as deep sadness encompasses his expression.

My heart breaks for Gabriel. To have the woman he loved taken away so brutally and him having been powerless to stop it. “That’s horrible! What was her name, the young woman Gabriel loved?”

He releases a pent-up sigh, and all the emotion that briefly appeared sweeps from his face. “Sulwen.” He smiles apologetically and stands from his chair. “I’ve a meeting I must attend. If that’s all?” He looks at me in question, and I nod. “Until next time, lass.” With that he leaves me alone in the room to ponder what I’ve just learned.

Chapter
Nine

L
ogan is teaching me the art of knife and sword wielding. It seems a little ridiculous, but he’s informed me that modern weapons hold no place in the war we are waging. Bullets are no match against the mythical, and magic can easily shield against their penetration. The sacred steel our weapons are forged with has been enchanted, and no creature, mythical or magical, can deflect them.

“Left, then right, Sully. You need to push toward your opponent with force. Make him step back. When you have him stepping back, his attention is going to be divided. That’s when you strike hard and fast.” He follows this up with several quick strikes that end with the red ball on the tip of his fencing sword on the padding of my chest over my heart.

My arms fall to my sides in defeat. “Ugh, I suck at this. I’m better with daggers and crossbows. Besides, this fencing sword doesn’t weigh half of what a real sword weighs. How am I supposed to wield a forty-pound piece of steel with any kind of skill? I’m not that strong, Logan.” My plea reeks of self-pity, and I hate myself for allowing it to slither in.

Logan closes the distance between us and pulls my head into his sweat-slick bare chest. He never wears any kind of protection when we spar. At first I thought it was arrogance, and then he explained that all of the knights trained without pads because in the battlefield they couldn’t afford heavy armor to slow them down. They needed to train exactly how they would fight. I, of course, teased him to no end about how fighting bare-chested would make the enemy swoon with lust. This ended in a tickling match and eventually with him thrusting deep inside my womb and his seed spilling into my moist depths. Just thinking about it sends a tingle between my thighs. I involuntarily shiver in his arms.

He chuckles a little and kisses the top of my head. “Such a lascivious little thing. You make me yearn to be between your thighs to the point of distraction.” He presses his hard length against my hip and grinds it in slow, sensual circles. My breathing becomes short and choppy as desire consumes me. My channel is slick with the need to be filled with his thick hardness.

“Come on, mates. You can have a naughty in the privacy of your own room. I keep watching this, and I’ll crack a fat for sure,” Chase taunts as he makes his entrance.

We pull apart, and I blush to the roots of my hair at being caught feeling Logan up. Logan adjusts the bulge in his shorts as he walks over to the rack on the wall and puts our equipment away. I pull the chest pad off and hand it over so he can put it away too.

I step away from Logan and watch Chase as he starts doing his warm-up stretches.

“By the way, what the hell is ‘crack a fat’?” I ask.

Chase busts out laughing and literally folds over clutching his gut he is laughing so hard at me. If I thought my face couldn’t get any redder, I was wrong. Logan sidles up next to me, coughing and laughing out loud.

“Babe, you seriously do not want to know. Come on; let’s leave him to it.” He tugs on my arm, and I start to follow him.

“Don’t get your knickers in a knot, love. I’m just teasing you. Logan loves to crack a fat. Just ask him.”

Logan flips him off. Chase laughs out loud, shaking his head, and walks over to the wall where his workout accessories are. He reaches up and grabs a jump rope to begin his workout. His bald head shines like new money under the bright fluorescent bulbs. Chase has a very athletic build. He’s tall like the rest of them, probably around six-foot-two, give or take an inch, and I’d say he weighs in around 230 pounds, give or take ten pounds. But what sets Chase apart are his skills with hand-to-hand combat. He can break a neck or sever a spinal cord in seconds. I’ve watched him attack Bionic Bob, the dummy with electrodes that show when you’ve inflicted a fatal injury, and Chase can render anyone motionless in under a minute.

I turn back to Logan, who was watching our exchange with an approving eye. He likes that I’m forming friendships with his team. In all reality it’s essential to my survival.

Logan wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me into his side as we make our way upstairs. “Let’s finish what you started, my little vixen.” He kisses the top of my head, and our pace quickens as the staircase comes into sight.

I look up at him and realize how much taller he is than me. At about five-foot-eight inches, I’m not short by any means, but Logan is probably about eight inches taller than me, so I’d say he’s around six-foot-three. I like that he’s much taller than me. It feels good to know that he can manhandle when the mood strikes us. I grin and look up into his smiling eyes.

“I want to lick and suck you so hard your toes curl. Sound good?”

I yelp out loud as he whisks me up into his arms and sprints up the steps and to our room.

He kicks the door shut with his foot and then strides over to the bed and lays me down. My shoes and clothes come off in flurry of airborne cotton. In minutes we’re both completely naked, and his body is spread on top of mine.

“I love you.” His soul shines through his eyes, so pure and loving. I move my hands up to cup his face.

“And I love you. Make love to me, Logan. Make it slow.” He nods and moves down to kiss me. His plump lips meet mine, and my body tingles with awareness. I can feel the soft scruff of his chest hair and the heavy weight of his erection as it presses into my thigh. My core clenches with need. I can feel my pulse between my legs as the moisture builds with my excitement.

His tongue claims my mouth with a subtle sweetness that I’m momentarily taken aback by. His scent is heady and masculine as I breathe him into my lungs and savor the rich aroma of his arousal. Our tongues sample the texture and flavor of each other’s mouths. Logan tastes like the mints he chews while working out. It leaves his tongue cool and refreshing as it meets mine again and again. He pulls back and sucks my bottom lip out and gently nibbles along it to the corner of my mouth.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he says.

I release the breath I was holding as he moves his mouth down my neck and to my left breast. He pulls my hardened nipple into his mouth with a heavy suction that has me squirming beneath him. His hand works my other nipple between two fingers, and just when I think he can’t suck any harder, he pinches my right nipple between his two fingers like a vice and pulls his head back with my left nipple still in his mouth, increasing the suction to the point of pain/pleasure. I nearly come for the exquisite sensations shooting through my breasts.

“Logan.” His name comes out a raspy plea for more. He doesn’t disappoint.

His mouth pulls from my breast with a pop, and then his tongue travels down my abdomen toward where I need him most. My fingers curl into his hair and guide him where I want him.

He chuckles, “I know what you need, love.” His warm breath fans over my sensitive nub, and my hips rise to meet his eager tongue. The first swipe of his tongue runs from my seeping core to the swollen nub between my folds, where he pulls it between his teeth and bites down while sucking and licking simultaneously. I come unglued. Pleasure explodes from my core, and I moan out loud as my climax rushes through my body. Hot waves of silken ecstasy slither down my spine and pool between my legs.

“Oh God, don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

His tongue runs down the length of my entrance, and then he stiffens it and spears my core. My legs tremble as he fucks me with his tongue, swirling it around and round, then in and out. He pulls his tongue out and laps up my wetness and then works my nub with fast flicks that fire up the beginnings of another orgasm. My hips are moving against his tongue now, and my hands are clenched tightly in his hair, moving him against me, pulling for him to lick me harder. His finger works its way through the moisture glistening on my folds and pulls it back to my anus. I reflexively clench my legs tight around his head.

“Easy, love. Let me bring you pleasure. Trust me.”

My legs relax against his head, and his tongue goes back to work on my nub, moving from the sopping entrance in long, lapping strokes up to my clit. I’m in heaven. It feels so fucking good that I don’t even notice him spreading my moisture around my asshole until his finger breaks a barrier that has never been broken before, and he enters me with one quick thrust. I yell out, and my muscles lock down. His tongue is still lapping at me with such force that my body refuses to allow the back door invasion to intrude upon its impending detonation. My orgasm is building and building, and then he curls his finger in my ass and starts to pump in and out of me.

At first it burns a little and feels awkward, but then the tingling sensation that comes along with it starts to overtake the pain, and soon the pleasure that rides through my core has me yelling out his name. His finger continues to work my ass as he sucks my clit into his mouth and nurses the last of my climax from me.

When my body goes limp, he pulls his finger from me and moves to the bathroom to wash his hands. When he comes back, his erection standing tall and proud, I grin from ear to ear.

“That was incredible,” I say.

His smile creases the corners of his eyes, and I can tell he’s glad he tried it. As he approaches the bed, I stand and kneel down on my knees to take him into my mouth.

“Fuck, yes. Let me fuck that beautiful mouth, baby.” He twists his fingers in my hair at the back of my nape and pulls my mouth down on him. I moan around his thick cock, sending vibrations down to his balls that I gather in my hand and start working until he’s pumping in and out of my mouth with a roughness that sends my cream running down the inside of my thighs.

I freaking love this man. I love having his cock in my mouth. I love looking up at his face and seeing his eyes closed in bliss and his mouth drawn tight with a pleasure that only I can give him.

I draw him deeper into my mouth until he hits the back of my throat, and I swallow around the head of his bulging cock. I can feel it thickening as his orgasm builds to its peak. I move my mouth up and down faster and faster until my jaw starts to ache from the exertion, but that doesn’t stop me. Keeping my teeth sheathed behind my lips, I pull back to where just the head of his dick is in my mouth and suck hard, sending my tongue forward to work his seeping slit. His dick jumps, and I can feels his balls draw up in my palm. Just as the first bit of his orgasm is leaking into my mouth, I take him deep into my throat and hum.

“Oh, goddamn it. Fuck yes,” he yells out as I feel his hot seed burst forth and run down the back of my throat. I take greedy gulps, wanting to savor every bit of him that I can. His musky flavor only furthers my own arousal.

Only when his hands loosen in my hair, and he begins to soften in my mouth, do I pull back and climb into the bed. Logan follows me, his shaft already starting to harden again for more bed play. I lie back and spread my legs wide in invitation, exposing my wet center for his viewing.

“Sulwen, my sweet, sweet Sulwen. I’m going to make love to you now, baby.”

I raise my arms to him, and he crawls on top of me to kiss my lips softly. I can feel the head of him pushing against my entrance. He’s already hard again and couldn’t be more ready. He pulls away from my lips and draws my legs up onto his shoulders and then thrusts deep inside of me. We both moan as the pleasure consumes us both. He rocks into me at a steady rhythm that has me panting within minutes as he works my G-spot with a twist of his hips.

“Harder, baby. Harder,” I beg him.

He pulls almost all the way out and then slams down into me, causing my orgasm to spiral through me as he pumps harder and harder into me. Twisting his hips and bucking into my sweet spot time and again.

“Fuck yes. Yes, baby,” I chant to him. I’m lost in the pleasure he brings me. My climax has my toes curling and my hips rising to meet him thrust for thrust. Logan leans down and takes my mouth with bruising force. Our flavors mixing as our tongues lick and stroke. He pulls back and then buries himself into my womb. So deep it almost hurts. I feel his body start to shudder as his orgasm bursts forth like an erupting dam inside of me.

His climax leaves him sated and limp in my arms. I run my fingers up and down his broad back as he lays his head over my racing heart. He shifts himself so that his leg is thrown over my waist, and his head remains on my chest, but his body lies beside me.

“That was amazing. I can never get enough of you.” His voice comes out barely above a whisper.

I giggle. “Same to you, stud.” I kiss his hairline and lay my head back down. “Let’s go grab a bite to eat. I’m kind of hungry after all of that.” He raises his head and gives me an ‘are you serious’ look. I nod.

“All right. How about you stay here and I run down to the kitchen and see what’s left of dinner?”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll go freshen up while you’re gone.”

With that he gets up and throws on some sweat pants and a t-shirt. Then he winks as he pulls the door closed behind him.

As I’m pulling on some cotton pants, I hear a timid knock on the door. I grab my sports bra from the drawer and pull it over my head, then throw on a t-shirt over that, and head to our bedroom door. When I open it, I find Josie on the other side with a shit-eating grin.

“The just-shagged look works well for you.” She laughs, and I smile back at her. I open the door all the way, and she walks in. Her eyes roam around the room, taking in the messy sheets, discarded clothing, and the smell of sex in the air. I can’t help it. I blush with embarrassment. I’m a little uncomfortable with her knowing what took place only minutes ago. She turns back around, and her playful demeanor fades into a look of seriousness.

“I hate to disturb your privacy, Sully, but there’s been an attack, and we need to get moving.”