Protector of the Flight (21 page)

She
didn’t know the words, he realized. She didn’t know him, didn’t know his
culture, but she was entrusting herself to him. He’d never felt so humbled. He
lifted their bound arms and pressed a kiss in the hollow of her palm.

Bastien
slapped him on the shoulder, and with that touch the clarity that had come to
his mind dimmed once more.

“Bedtime,”
Bastien said, his voice still rich with humor.

“Bedtime.”
Marrec’s own
whisper was hoarse, but a grin stretched his lips. Bedtime. Sex time. He was
ready.

“Luthan
will witness.”

“Witness!”
The word nearly shocked him out of his preoccupation with sex and his lady.
“Ttho.”

“He’ll
keep watch in the entryway of the tower suite. Only one door to the rooms.”

“Tower
suite?” Marrec mumbled. Memories of every horse Calli had ever ridden were
flashing from her to him. He got the notion that she was considering him a
stallion of a man, and a brief surge of wariness dulled his passion.

Bastien
pulled Marrec’s left arm over his shoulders. He wasn’t as tall as Marrec, but
his shoulders were wide and he made a good prop. “Move your feet,” Bastien
grunted. “You can shuffle, at least.”

Behind
Calli, some man put his hands on her hips to steady her. Marrec felt her
instant alarm.
Not my man! Who?
He glanced to his side, the side being
warmed by Calli, the side receiving tingles of attraction from her aura, and
looked at the hands, then up at the face.

“Jaquar,”
he said, and the image of the man went from his mind to hers.

Oh.
She relaxed a
little. Interesting, he fumbled the thought. She trusted Jaquar.

A
recollection of the man saving her from falling sped from her, and Marrec’s
heart jumped. She’d nearly been broken again on hard flagstones!

Didn’t
happen,
she whispered mentally. For some reason he got an image of a big red circle
with a bar slanting through it.

She
leaned her head against his shoulder.
I trust you.

And
he saw himself in her memories.

Her
impression of him had been of a man who was tall and broad shouldered, with a
strong jaw and handsome.
Handsome!
A glimpse of him, brows lowered in
concentration during the Summoning, serious when she woke up and noticed him in
the Healing Room, strained after the battle.

Faucon
was in more of her memories, smooth and easy and smiling…but again the red
circle with the bar was laid across his image.
Not for me. Too handsome. Too
charming…just
too.

Marrec’s
heart tumbled. He shook his head to shove aside her memories to look at her…and
her drugged gaze rose to his.
Yum.

Alexa
snorted, Bastien hooted. They’d heard! But Marrec was so involved with his
woman he didn’t care.

“This
way. A little turn, here,” Bastien said, and the group of them moved to the
bottom of a staircase. Marrec looked up, squinted. “Lotsa stairs.”

Calli
responded to this by showing a box that moved straight up and down, opening to
let people in and out. Marrec jerked at the strange image. Something from her
past life.

“Elevator!”
she said, and he guessed she meant the box. Suddenly he had views of massive
buildings spearing the sky, disgorging more people than he’d ever seen together
at one time. He swayed.

“Easy.”
The hands on his shoulders weren’t Bastien’s, though he’d sensed Bastien had
seen such things, too. Jaquar was speaking in his ear. “Just let the
strangeness flow through you. Don’t stop and look and try to question or
understand the images. Let the coeurdechain bind you body and heart and soul
and Song, but don’t dwell on her old life. That way lies madness. Believe me, I
know.”

It
took Marrec a moment to sort out those ideas, and by the time he did, he was
marching up the stairs. He caught Jaquar’s eye and nodded, then stared at the
Circlet. He had blue eyes, too, a darker blue than Calli’s. And didn’t Marian
have another shade of blue? Incredible. Many colors of blue eyes.

Bastien
poked him. “You’re tilting my way. Watch where you’re going. Up, now.”

Squinting,
Marrec glanced upward. “Don’t know this place.”

“Knight
Marshall’s tower,” Bastien said.

Marrec
stopped. “Ttho.”

“Ayes!”
commanded Thealia. She was the Knight Marshall.

“Not
yours.” He sort of remembered that she had her own tower and hadn’t moved when
she’d become Knight Marshall. “Whose?”

“It
used to be Reynard Vauxveau’s,” Thealia reminded him.

“Bastard.”

Bastien
gave a short laugh. “That my father was.”

“Beg
pardon.” Marrec hazily thought Luthan must be around, too, craned his neck,
found the man and repeated, “Beg pardon.”

“Nice
guy,” Calli said happily. “Isn’t he a nice guy?” She wasn’t speaking Lladranan,
but Marrec could understand her.

“We’ve
redecorated the top suite for the Singer,” Thealia soothed. “You can have the
fourth level.”

Marrec
grunted. “Getting tired now.” Calli’s many-layered Song was in his skin, running
with his blood, but her life before Lladrana also spilled from her to him,
flashing images and smells and sounds and even tactile impressions that he
couldn’t begin to understand. The horses and ranch had been the easy part. He
slowed.

Bastien
poked him in the back. “Almost there.”

Huh!
There must be at least ten more stairs.

But
his steps slowed. “Feet feel funny. A little numb.”

“You’ll
be fine once you get horizontal,” Jaquar said. “Trust me.” His voice lilted.
“Better than fine.”

“You
don’t think he’ll pass out before they physically mate?” Bastien asked,
prodding Marrec’s ego.

“Sex,”
said Marrec. The thought energized him. He slanted a glance at the lady by his
side. The pretty Exotique lady with lighter skin than his own and golden hair
and blue eyes. Whose soft arm was bound to his. Whose luscious breasts showed
under the slick-looking dress that made him long to tongue and taste. He
hurried up and reached the semicircular anteroom. Made straight for the large
wooden and leather-trapped pointed door with an impressive doorharp on it.
“Bed.”

“That’s
the way,” Bastien encouraged.

Marrec
reached his right hand for the doorknob and stared at Calli’s pretty fingers
that found the fancily patterned brass knob and caressed it. He swallowed.

“Let
me cut you out of your shirt and tunic,” Luthan said matter-of-factly.

“Cut
me out! They’re my best,” Marrec said, leaning hard on Bastien, trying to move
away from the knife gleaming in Luthan’s hand.

“Hold
still,” Bastien said. “They’re your best clothes today. Tomorrow you’ll get
better.”

That
didn’t make sense. “What?”

“Tonight
you bond in a coeurdechain with an Exotique. Tomorrow she will be gifted with
an estate—” Bastien’s hand spread wide “—volarans, zhiv. You just married an
heiress, boy. You’re rich.”

Rich.
The very thought made his heart thump. Land and a home in the rolling hills, a
beautiful stone house. Volarans.

Bastien
pulled the shirt from him.

Cool
air gave him gooseflesh, but not as much as when Calli slid her hands against
his bare chest.

“Oooh,”
she said.
“Yum!”

Everyone
laughed and Marrec understood there were a lot more people in the room than
he’d thought. He blinked around, saw faces, mostly couples. Jaquar and Marian,
Thealia and Partis, Mace and Clua, Bastien and Alexa. Luthan. Koz.

“Luthan
will now take you to the bedroom. Be glad we live in enlightened and trusting
times, otherwise he would have had to stay to make sure you two truly bonded.”
Bastien wiggled his eyebrows. “Worshipping each other with your bodies.”

Bastien
squeezed Marrec’s arm. “Sink into your balance. I’m going to let go.”

Marrec
grabbed the rhythm of his own innate Song, loosened his knees and centered his
gravity. Bastien let go and Marrec stood alone, with Calli leaning a little
against him.

Gently
pulling Calli’s fingers from the doorknob, Luthan unlocked the door and pushed
it inward. The scent of more, fresh herbs,
expensive
herbs, wafted out.
Luthan appeared pale. When he spoke, his lips didn’t move much. “Follow me.”

Walk?
Marrec took a tentative step. Calli lurched against him. He bent their arms
behind her back to stabilize them. Looking down at her, he said, “We walk
together.”

She
stared at him for a few seconds, then nodded. Marrec put his left foot out in a
step. She did the same, then looked up at him as if for approval. He smiled.
Slowly they walked into the narrow hallway, barely wide enough for them, went
to the door Luthan held open, to a tiny space and another door, then sidled one
by one into the bedroom.

The
lights came on as they entered.

“Ohh,”
Calli sighed.

It
was the most elegant room he’d ever seen, intimidating with its luxury.

They
fell onto the bed, him on the bottom.

16

H
e opened his
mouth to Calli’s passionate kiss. Her tongue dueled with his and she moaned.
Her free hand continued to pet his chest. Then she spread her legs on the other
side of his and straightened, wriggling until her sweet sex was atop his. He
thought she was wet, he knew she was hot.

He
was hard.

With
her free hand, she snapped the shoulders of her gown open. The slinky material
slipped down her torso, leaving her gorgeous breasts free, creamy tipped with
red nipples. He gasped.

Magic,
she whispered
in her mind, but he heard
Power.
She flung her head back, a laugh
rippling from her that rang like chimes in her Song. A delightful, harmonizing
tinkle of notes that should have reminded him of sprites and fairies, but
instead brought a surge of possessiveness. This woman was
his.

He
watched his own hand tremble as he reached up to shape her right breast and
wished desperately that his other hand was free so he could cherish her flesh
the way he wanted. He brushed his thumb across her small, tight nipple and she
arched against him and his sex swelled longer and thicker. His hips bucked, and
his length slipped against her hot softness. He swore.

Breeches
off! Their arms tied together hadn’t seemed too awkward until now.

She
blinked, pressed her hand over his on her breast. He trembled, fought for
control. Any more rubbing against his cock and he’d embarrass himself. His
breath came harsh to his ears. Sweat tickled his temple.

Concentrate
on her. On Calli. But just looking at her made him dizzy with passion, her
breast, smooth and pale in his hand, his skin several shades darker—different,
except where scars showed white. Her mouth was slightly open, her lips the same
color as her nipples and he thought he’d go mad seeing her so lost in her own
desire.

“Please,”
he rasped.

Her
lips curved, she looked down at him from under her lashes.
You please me.

“Inside
you!” He’d never begged. He’d never been so blunt.

She
stared down at him.
Hot.

Oh,
yes, he was hot.

She
took his hand from her breast and trailed it down her body. Her skin was
smooth. He took as much pleasure in the feathery touch as she did. Their hands
slid down and he ached to touch her, but she wore some piece of underwear
covering her that rose up to her hips.

High-cut
panties.
The phrase made no sense. He slid a finger around the edge at her waist, but
she didn’t want that. She pouted. Too many clothes.

He
agreed.

She
lifted, slithered out of the dress and the undergarment. They crossed his body
with slick caresses that sent his mind away. Then her fingers were on the
buttons of his leathers, opening the fly. She stopped, head tilted, and stared
and he wanted to whimper. Hesitantly her fingers touched him through his
loincloth and piercing desire racked him. His own Song went rough, uneven,
primal. With a twist and a wrench of cloth he freed himself.

Calli
made a purring noise from the depth of her throat. Her hand swept to him. He
caught her seeking fingers. His lips felt swollen, his tongue thick. “Sex.
Now!” He pushed both arms behind her back, pulled her toward him and her moist
folds slid over him.

“Yes!”
she cried, rising, freeing her hand, impaling herself upon him.

And she
rode him.

Their
Songs merged, their blood pounded from one to another, they strove to
completion. They reached the peak and fell, and Sang.

And
flew. Together.

Long
moments passed before Marrec became aware of himself as individual from the
universe, mind separate but still touching Calli’s sleeping one. She lay atop
him, her breath tickling his throat. Images of her life still flitted before
his vision—a lovely summer day riding bareback, her spirit lifted by the
freedom, a dark room that held emotional tones of fear and anguish.