Night of Fire (7 page)

“Pu-bic.”

“Close enough, young lady, close enough.”

Still holding on to what he said were her lips, he ran his
other hand through the curly hair he’d been talking about. She squirmed again,
and it was all she could do not to close her legs so he’d stop tickling
her—only it didn’t really feel like tickling.

“Having trouble concentrating already, are you?” he asked.
“Would you like to conclude the lesson and get on to recess?”

How could they speak the same language and yet not?
“What—what is recess?”

“Oh, you’ll like that, believe me, you will. However, I’d be
remiss as a teacher—probably get myself fired—if we quit so soon.” Once again
he ran his nail over flesh so sensitive she thought she’d cry out with the
wonder of it. “You’re concentrating, aren’t you?”

“I…” She didn’t want to look down at herself, that would
make it worse. But was meeting his laughing eyes any easier? “I want—to learn.”

“I bet you do. And so do I.” Tipping his head to one side,
he continued his study of her woman-place. “Good thing the moon’s out tonight,”
he observed. “Otherwise, I’d really be hunting in the dark, not that I’d mind.”

“Pubic hairs,” she whispered, proud of herself.

“Yep, you’ve got that right.” He blew on her woman-place.
“There,” he said as her hips of their own will bucked off the ground. “That was
your reward. At least your first one. Would you like another?”

She wanted anything he chose to give her and told him so by
scooting forward so she was even more exposed.

“Boy, do I love you and your people’s uninhibited ways.” He
sounded a little breathless. “All right, where were we? Oh, that’s right.
Labial lips. But that’s just the teaser, at least as far as a cock is
concerned.”

“Cock?”

“That’s right, you don’t know. Where I come from,
seed-makers are called cocks. Sometimes penis. It depends on who’s doing the
talking and in what context.”

“What—what do you want me to call it?”

He blew on her tender place again. When, once more, her hips
refused to stay on the ground, he released what he called her labial lips and
cupped his hand over her opening, pressing. She started to back away.

“No, no,” he warned. “You don’t want to do that. Believe me,
you don’t.”

Beyond concentrating on anything but her body, she willed
herself to stay where she was. The more he pressed on her there, the hotter and
hungrier she felt up inside.

“Remember that gynecologist I told you about?” he asked.

She didn’t but muttered, “Yes.”

“Good.” He began running a fingertip up and down, up and
down against the opening to her woman-place. Her mouth parted, and she breathed
through it.

“Good,” he repeated. “Now pay attention. You are paying
attention, aren’t you? At least you’re zeroed in on your body. This whole area
I’ve got my hand on, not just my forefinger, but everything there—the medical
term for it is clitoris.”

“Clit…”

“Tsk, tsk. You really have to pay attention, Maia. You do
want recess, don’t you?”

“Yes. Clit-oris.”

“That’s my girl.”

His finger had stopped moving. Maybe he’d noticed that she
was becoming swollen there—at least it felt like that—and didn’t like it.
Before she could think how to ask him, he found her opening and slipped into
her. It was just one finger, a small thing compared to his—his cock. But that
finger had to be responsible for the moisture filling her. It felt incredible.

“Good, good,” he muttered. “You’re a fast learner. No doubt
about it, you’re going to the head of the class. Moving along, that wetness—you
know you’re getting wet, don’t you?”

If she reached for him, would he ram his cock into her?
Maybe she’d have to ask him to.

“There’s a name for what’s happening to you,” he continued.
“Well, more like a phrase. You’re turned-on.”

“Turn?” The word came out a squeak. “You want me on my stomach?”

He laughed. “Another time, you bet. But I’m not going to
press my luck by trying to take you too far too fast. Pay attention. It
shouldn’t take you long to figure this out—and get off on it.” He pushed his
finger farther inside her and wiggled it.

“Oh. “ She moaned. “Oh.”

“That’s turned-on,” he whispered, his tone now serious.
“When that happens to a woman, juices—her pussy start to flow.”

“Oh,” she said even though she wasn’t really concentrating.
She wished she could lie down and put her legs on his shoulders so he could get
at her—her pussy—with less effort. At the same time, she was content to remain
where she was, learning everything her pussy was capable of.

“Taurus?” she managed as something that felt like winged
creatures beat at her pussy walls.

“I’m not Tau—what?”

“Is—is it the same for a man?”

“Is what the same?”

“The way mating feels?”

“We aren’t mating yet. This is foreplay, getting you
turned-on.”

She opened her mouth to ask for an explanation, but he
stopped her by placing his free hand over her breast. She felt the tip called
her milk-giver harden.

“It works, doesn’t it,” he said in that low voice she could
swear she heard clear through her. “It doesn’t take much to arouse you.”

“Is—is that a good thing?”

“You’d better believe it. Maia, you may be the most sexually
liberated woman I’ve ever known, certainly the most sexual virgin.”

She should tell him that she was no longer a virgin, but the
buzzing that had started in her pussy—what a funny word—was spreading
throughout her. She couldn’t make her eyes focus, and it took all her strength
to remain where she was. His finger was a traveler, an explorer capable of
finding places in her she hadn’t known existed. It shouldn’t be like that. How
could he have more wisdom about that hidden place than she, its owner, did?

It didn’t matter. At least it didn’t right now.

Her cheeks felt so hot, but that was nothing compared to her
heated woman-place.

“Why—why are you doing this?” she managed.

“You like it, don’t you?”

“Yes! Yes.” She tried to close her legs so she could trap
his hand there, but he stopped her by bracing his elbow against the inside of
her thigh.

“Sorry, Maia, but I’m not going to let you get off this
easily. I’d be remiss in my responsibilities as your teacher if I did. It feels
pretty damn good, doesn’t it? Somewhere between pleasure and pain.”

Some part of her pussy was trying to escape. She felt it
throb and swell, and each time Taurus’ finger touched it, it took all her will
not to cry out. Sobbing low in her throat, she leaned forward and pressed her
breast against his hand.

“I take it that’s an answer in the affirmative.” As if
rewarding her, he began working another finger inside her. It filled her,
pushed her apart. She wondered if she could swallow all of him this way.

“Your seed-bearer…” After a half breath she tried again.
“Your cock. When will you put it in me?”

“Soon, very soon. My god, I can’t believe I’m—do you feel
that?” He flicked his finger over the part of her woman-place that was trying
to escape.

“Yes!” Even with her eyes closed, her world was turning red.

“That’s your clit.”

“Cl-it?” What was happening to her? She felt out of control,
rushing off somewhere she couldn’t fathom.

“Whoever designed us wisely decided that women deserved as
much pleasure as men get. It works, doesn’t it?”

In a befuddled way, she knew he had asked a question, but
she no longer knew where they were or where the world had gone. Something was
scraping her skin and making it more and more sensitive. Everything centered
around his fingers and his hand enveloping her hungry breast. Her pussy danced,
jumped, jerked.

“There, there,” he said. “Let it come. It’s your cunt, Maia.
Celebrate what it’s capable of.”

“Cunt?”

“Pussy.”

“I, ah—”

“Shh. Don’t try to talk. Let me do this for you.”

He hadn’t told her what
this
was, but she didn’t need
him to. The strength went out of her arms, and she fell back onto the ground.
She heard herself pant. Her pussy—cunt—had become like a small storm, making
her slow to realize that he’d withdrawn his fingers. How could he leave her
like—?

No, he was still there.

Limp as a newborn, she felt him grab her legs and place them
around his waist. Then he scooted closer, and under his guidance, she lifted
her buttocks.

His cock pushed against her pussy-cunt, but her labial lips were
in his way. Rocking up, she used her fingers to push them aside.

Then he was in her, his cock swollen and possessive.

He began pushing as if determined to drive his cock all the
way through her, and yet she couldn’t get enough of him. Reaching out, she
found his thighs and dug her nails into them, urging him on. He bracketed her
legs higher on his hips and drew her closer. With her body from the waist down
off the ground, her movement was down to almost nothing, but he provided enough
for both of them.

“Sex,” Taurus spit out. “Where I come from—” He plunged into
her, hung there a heartbeat, retreated a little then plunged again. “This is
called sex. Fucking.”

“I—I like fucking.”

“Just
like
?”

The two sacs behind his cock slapped against her bottom.
She’d never heard that sound of flesh against flesh before. If someone had told
her this would happen during mating—fucking—she would have wrinkled her nose in
disgust, but now that it was happening—now that his cock filled her cunt, and
her head felt like a drum being beaten, and she was on fire—

“I love fucking! Love it!”

He grunted something she didn’t catch. She didn’t ask him to
repeat himself because she wouldn’t have been able to concentrate anyway.

She was running, her feet not touching the ground but skimming
over it like a bird. Ahead of her, she spotted, felt, tasted even, a great
ocean wave.

The wave slammed into her. Instead of cold sea water, she
felt heat. Fire.

Fire!

Taron couldn’t be sure, but even bets were that he’d died
and gone to heaven. He couldn’t remember how many times he and Maia had had sex
since she’d first come on to him. He felt as if he’d been ridden hard and put
away wet—in more ways than one—and yet if she opened her legs again, he’d do
his damnedest to service her.

“Just call me stud studly,” he muttered. “Old and wrung out
but still willing to give it another shot.”

Maia didn’t say anything. Maybe she was asleep, but he
didn’t think so because with her head on his outstretched arm, and her naked
body spooned against his, he was a pretty good judge of her condition. They’d
both sweated like pigs during their mutual climax, but that had dried in the
night air. Maybe she was starting to shiver.

No, not shiver.

“Maia, what is it?” he asked when she suddenly sat up.

“They come.”

Instead of asking who she was talking about, he forced
himself into an upright position. Now that she’d drawn his attention to it, he
could hear approaching footsteps, or more precisely, boots.

She scrambled to her feet and slipped her gauzy garment over
her head. She was already fastening the dagger in place by the time he reached
for his own clothes.

“We cannot stay here,” she said. “We must join the others.”

* * * * *

By
others
she’d meant the wise old men and others
who’d been hanging around them earlier. The Lady was there too, as well as the
other young women who he’d determined had been Maia’s fellow virgins although
from their disheveled looks, he concluded that they’d all lost that
distinction. Everyone was watching an approaching procession consisting of
three men in long, dark robes followed by at least a dozen heavily armed
soldiers. Granted, their weapons consisted of swords, knives, even a couple of
axes, but next to the unarmed villagers, they looked formidable. Drums had
beaten while he and Maia were having sex, but now they were silent.

“They’re the priests?” he asked Maia. “They don’t look
happy.”

She indicated the nearby hills, each with its own fire.
“They tried to forbid us to celebrate Bel-fire.”

“Pushy, aren’t they. What are they going to do?”

“I do not know.”

The fear in her voice put him on edge. Reacting
instinctively, he reached into his pockets, but a wallet full of credit cards
wouldn’t cut any ice here. The only other thing he found was the cigarette
lighter he’d taken from Paul.

He was taller than most of the villagers and in darn good
physical condition, if he did say so himself. Besides, his short hair,
button-down shirt and slacks set him apart. He positioned himself near the old
men and The Lady, uneasy because Maia was with him when he wanted her somewhere
safe.

“Godless heathens!” the priests announced in unison the
moment they reached the top of the hill. They all had walking sticks or staffs
or whatever they wanted to call them and used them to point at the fire that
was now little more than ashes. “This is the devil’s work!”

“Excuse me,” Taron said in his chairman-of-the-board voice.
“What gives you the right to try to order these people around? In case you
haven’t noticed, you’re in the minority here.”

One of the soldiers, a man who wore a metal helmet in
addition to the breastplates the others had on, stepped closer. He aimed a
spear with a sharp point at Taron.

“Silence, infidel!” he ordered. “You will not defy men of
the cloth.”

“Who died and made you king?”

The soldier blinked and frowned. “The king is not above the
priests,” he said. “Priests speak the word of truth and subservience. No one
will defy them.”

“We do not defy. All we want is to celebrate spring as our
people have done since the beginning of time.”

Taron had to hand it to The Lady. She didn’t sound at all
intimidated.

“Silence!” one of the priests ordered. “No woman shall treat
a man of the cloth with disrespect. You heathens do not understand. You are too
simple. You must be taught—”

“Watch it,” Taron interrupted. “These aren’t dumb animals
you’re talking to. Just because they don’t buy your nonsense doesn’t mean
they’re wrong. Did it ever occur to you that you’re the ones barking up the
wrong tree?”

This time all of the newcomers gaped at him as if he were
speaking a foreign language. At least they weren’t telling him to take a
hike—yet.

“Look,” he continued. “I just got here myself so I’m no
expert, but Bel-fire means a great deal to these people. They’re not going to
scrap it just because you and your thugs say they should.”

“Silence! Yours is the voice of the devil.”

Not interested in debating that, Taron indicated the fire.
“Why didn’t you get here earlier? It’s almost out. Any chance you didn’t want
to push your luck?”

“Silence!” the shortest priest ordered. “Our prayers came
first. Only when we had received the word of the ruler of the universe could we
turn his preaching into action.”

“Yeah, right.” Maia was tugging at his arm, but he didn’t
let that distract him. “Why don’t you and your hired guns blow town? No one
needs you telling them what to do.”

The helmeted soldier jabbed his spear at The Lady. The tip
was only inches from her middle.

“Silence, heathens!” the short priest repeated. “Our weapons
are the weapons of our lord and master. They will shed the blood of unbelievers
and bring glory to our master.”

On the verge of telling the priests they were insane, Taron
decided he was wasting his breath. There was no reaching people whose beliefs
were so deeply entrenched that they wanted to kill anyone who didn’t agree with
them. Besides, he hadn’t seen a single weapon among the Bel-fire celebrants.
What were they, pacifists? If he’d been like that, his company would already be
in enemy hands.

“The bonfire is almost burned down,” he said, his attention
locked on the sharp tip now pressed against The Lady. He spoke to the
villagers. “It’s going to be morning soon. Maybe—maybe we should just put it
out, for now. Once we have these jokers,” he indicated the priests and
soldiers, “off our backs, we can strategize. It’s not worth anyone getting
killed.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the old men exchange
glances. Then they went back to studying the soldiers. The Lady stood there
calm as could be. He could hear Maia’s uneasy breaths.

“Look.” He addressed the priests. “In my book, you’re
bullies. You think you’ve got some divine right to march in and throw away
generations of tradition and belief. What the hell good is it going to do to
solve this with bloodshed? We, everyone who gives a damn, needs to sit down and
present their views. Then we’ll reach a compromise, develop a strategy. That’s
the way I run my business, it can be done.”

“The ruler’s ways must become law.”

The gibberish that had just come from the short priest’s
mouth nearly set Taron off, but he knew nothing was going to be accomplished
here until tempers had calmed down.

He turned to the onlookers, his gaze taking in The Lady and
old men. “It’s a strategic move,” he told them. “We’ve not giving in. We’re not
even compromising, but damn it, if there’s a battle right now, we’re not going
to win. Extinguish those embers.”

“No!”

The last person he’d expected to disagree was Maia, but
there she was, standing toe-to-toe with him.

“No,” she repeated. “That
cannot
happen!”

“Why the hell not? Maia, we’re talking about saving lives
here.”

“Embers must be scattered among our crops to protect them.
More must be taken by each household to light their hearth. And I—I must jump
over them to ensure that I will have an easy birth.”

Every clan member within earshot was now nodding vigorously,
but he couldn’t concentrate on that. “Easy birth,” he managed. “What are you
saying?”

“I am with child. Your child.”

Just like that, he felt his world tilt. “You can’t know—we
just—wait a minute!” Ignoring the onlookers, he hauled her so close that her
features blurred. “What the hell is going on here? You told me—you said you
were using protection. You tricked me.”
Why the hell was he saying that?

“I did what My Lady said I must.”

She sounded so calm and confident that a little of his shock
and outrage—if that’s what it was—dissipated. “You got me to fuck you so you
could get knocked up, didn’t you? You lied—hell, even if you didn’t lie, you
weren’t honest.”

She glanced at her flat stomach. “This is a child of
Bel-fire. Conceived of you so even those who do not believe in our ways will
understand that we are more than what they say we are—infidels. Our beliefs are
strong. Right.” Still in his grasp, she stared at the priests. “This Bel-fire
baby was conceived by a man from a time far in the future. By Taurus the bull.”

Shit. What is she saying?

“A heathen bastard!” the short priest insisted. “It cannot
be. It must not!”

Although he was still reeling from what Maia had just said,
Taron didn’t need to be hit over the head to realize things were getting out of
control. The short priest was actually foaming at the mouth and shaking with
fury.

“She can’t be sure,” he heard himself say. “Hell, she was a
virgin the first time we had sex earlier tonight.”
Or whenever all this started.
“And I’m not Taurus. I’m a man some woman has tricked—”

“Not a trick, Taurus!” Maia interrupted. “If you do not want
this child, I do not want you as its father. Go!” She yanked free. “We had sex.
We fucked,” she told him. “And now it is done. Go!”

“Kill the bastard child!”

Taron whirled. To a man the soldiers stared at the short
priest.

“Do not defy me!” the priest yelled. “Do the work of your
lord and master. Rip the bastard from her belly.”

Not fully comprehending what he was doing, Taron positioned
himself between Maia and the soldiers. Most continued to look uncertain, but
two who put him in mind of TV wrestlers drew their knives. He quickly assessed
his chances of knocking the weapons out of the soldiers’ hands and grabbing
them himself—not good. Nevertheless, they’d have to go through him to get to
her.

“Leave,” Maia hissed. “This is not your battle.”

Too late for that.
“You can’t be serious,” he told
the priests, but he was only stalling for time. “This is murder.”

“Who are you?”

About to give them everything including his social security
number, it hit him that that wouldn’t get him anywhere. However—

“Taurus, the bull,” he announced. “Brought here because The
Lady and clan elders were afraid something like this was going to happen. They
needed a fighter, a
bull
.”

“Brought from where?”

Well, that’s a little hard to explain.
“The future,”
he said, not taking his eyes off the two wrestlers.

“Liar! Infidel!”

Now what, smart ass?
he asked himself as the
wrestlers separated and stalked closer. Not thinking, he rammed his hands in
his pockets. His fingers closed around Paul’s lighter and he withdrew it.

“Do you see this?” he demanded as he held it up. “This is my
proof.”

One of the soldiers laughed. The priests didn’t look
impressed.

“Like me, it is from the future,” he insisted. “Magic.
Powerful magic.”

“Kill him too,” one of the priests said.

“No!” Maia slid around him. “This is not his concern. He
does not care—”

No time like the present,
he thought and flicked the
lighter. Nothing happened. He flicked it again. A white red flame shot up
nearly four inches.
Thank you, Paul. You always had to have the biggest,
baddest toy on the block, didn’t you?

For a few seconds no one spoke. Hell, no one so much as
moved. And no two ways about it, he was the center of attention. He felt
stronger than he had in his entire life.

“See this.” He held the lighter high enough for everyone to
see and then let it go out. “In my time, everyone carries fire in their hands.
They can make it go to sleep the way I’ve just done. But because they are all
powerful, because they believe in Bel-fire, it is nothing to bring fire to
life.” He flicked, and to his relief, the flame ignited again. This time he
kept it going.

“What do you think of that?” he demanded of the priests.
“Nothing like a little magical flame to make your babble about infidels and the
master of the universe sound like crap.”

He wasn’t sure what kind of response that would elicit.
Hell, he hadn’t thought past doing whatever it took to keep those knives away
from Maia and the baby—his baby. He should have.

Something that might be a prayer spewed out of the short
priest’s mouth. Gripping the cross he wore, he stalked toward Maia. As he did,
the wrestler-soldiers backed up. Obviously Paul’s lighter intimidated them. So
much for a well-trained army.

“I am the voice of the lord and master,” the priest
insisted. “I speak the truth, only me. And I say the devil
must
be
destroyed.” He whirled on the soldiers. “Obey me! Obey! Kill the devil’s
spawn.”

Deciding that the armed soldiers constituted more of a
threat than the crazy man in dirty, flowing robes, Taron kept the still-burning
lighter aimed at the military force. Still feeling all-potent, he took his gaze
off the priest for only a second.

Screaming, the man launched himself at Maia. An elbow caught
her under her chin and knocked her backward. She staggered but didn’t fall. The
priest’s thick-knuckled fingers closed around her dagger.

“Maia!”

From what he could tell, the blow had stunned Maia. She
tried to pull the priest’s hands off her, but she wasn’t having much success.
The priest leaned back and punched her, hard, in the stomach.

Taron’s world turned red, fury and fear filled him. “Damn
you!” he bellowed.