Pure Healing (24 page)

Lightly, he rubbed the pads of this thumbs along the dewy lips of her sex, drawing a guttural moan from her throat. He inched one thumb upwards to cover her clit and moved the other hand to grip her hip so that he had full control of her body, still helplessly bowed backwards.
And then he began to flex his hips. Slowly. Inexorably. Devastatingly.
In this position, he felt the least friction from his movements, but she felt every infinitesimal fraction acutely against her pleasure center. The unrelenting pressure from his thumb pressing against her clitoris intensified the feeling of the mouth of his penis kissing her G-spot, rubbing it, massaging it, loving it.
It was too much. The pleasure was so mindnumbing, so overwhelming Rain could no longer breathe. Her hands gripped his forearms desperately, her fingers digging into the corded muscles. Every nerve, every cell, every fiber of her being focused completely on the methodical contraction and release of his powerful hips. An orgasm the likes of which she’d never dreamed much less experienced spread like molten lava throughout her body.
Her breath hitched as she began to come. But it was not yet the climax: it was still building, the pleasure was steadily, mind-blowingly growing.
Valerius clenched his jaw when Rain began to orgasm, the walls of her vagina squeezing his tortured sex until the pain was so intense sweat ran in rivulets down the sides of his face, the deep groove of his back. Still he maintained the precise flexing of his hips, the perfect pressure of his thumb against her clit.
When she began to flail and buck, when she was reduced to helpless sobs of rapture, he gradually increased his speed until he too became enslaved to the breathtaking friction, to the hungry pulls of her sex, and his own bone-deep need to fulfill her.
They reached nirvana at the same moment and each half cried the other’s name as they splintered with ecstasy, only to come back together as one, and explode in bliss once more. His seed washed over her womb in Nourishing milky waves, filling her to the brim. But her body drank him greedily, absorbing all he had to give and ever striving for more.
After an interminable period of time, the quakes that racked their bodies reduced to small, sensitized shivers, and their breath returned to deep inhales and exhales instead of broken gasps of passion.
Valerius pulled Rain’s boneless body up and forward against him and buried his face in the crook of her neck.
I love you
.
He silently poured out his heart and soul to her, even as his body tightened with excruciating pain when he did not receive the exchange of spiritual energy from her as a sign of her answering love.
He did not expect it. Her love.
It was enough that she cared for him, needed him, wanted him. It was enough that in her arms, he was just a male. The demons from his past had no place here.
He was simply hers.
They slept together for a few hours, their bodies remaining intimately joined. She drank from his throat for a bit in the middle of the night, and they woke twice before dawn to make love again.
Each time, he did everything in his power to prolong her pleasure, sacrificing his own. Each time, he gave into her in the end, Nourishing her with his release. And invariably, each time, ravaging pain followed the orgasmic bliss as his strength depleted and his life force diminished.
As she had promised, not once during the entire night did she release her stored pain into him. And had it not been for his unrequited love, he would have only felt the heady pleasure of their joining.
It was enough, he chanted over and over in his mind. Even as his heart bled at the irrefutable, annihilating truth that she did not love him in return.
*** *** *** ***
“Where are you going?” Dalair asked as he followed Sophia to her bedroom, but remained on the other side of the threshold.
“None of your business,” came the ungracious reply. She grabbed a change of clothes from her closet and disappeared into the bathroom.
Dalair noticed that she’d chosen a bright blue sweater dress and black stockings dotted with little pink hearts. A dramatic departure from her usual sweatshirt and pants. Dalair was slightly shocked that she even owned a dress.
“It is my duty to know your every move, my Queen,” Dalair responded, adding in the formal address because he knew how it irked her. She hated to be reminded of her position and rank, hated to recall that she was not the average teenager.
“Fine,” she called with annoyance from the bathroom, her raised voice grating on his hypersensitive hearing. ‘I’m going to a friend’s place to help with research. It’s for school. Boring stuff. You don’t have to come with me.”
“You know that I do,” he stated patiently. “You are under my protection today.”
Before she could argue, and he knew that she was gearing up for it, he continued, “We are on high alert, as you are well aware. The vampire assassins we are dealing with are far more powerful and organized than we initially assessed. More than ever, you must maintain the highest level of protection.”
“That means you, I suppose,” Sophia groused from the bathroom. She was putting on makeup, Dalair could hear from the clicks of cases and popping of mascara brush from its tube. Another first.
“After all, aren’t you ranked number two in body count after Val?” the young Queen all but growled.
“I do not keep score,” Dalair evenly replied, “but I do agree with you that I am the best protection you can have in Valerius’ absence.”
Sophia emerged from the bathroom half dressed, the back zipper of her dress still down around her tailbone, to face him with a scowl, her wavy chestnut hair in a lioness halo around her head. “That was not my point and you know it! I don’t want you to come with me today and that’s that. Being Queen has to mean for something beyond just having a title and having my life turned inside out by vampires and strict rules! I need a social life and you’re a pain in my ass!”
Unruffled by her outburst, the Paladin continued to regard her steadily, though he chose not to respond.
Sophia viciously yanked a brush through her tangled mane, so upset with her situation that she didn’t even wince at the pain of pulling hairs out as she forcefully tugged through the snarls. “Well?” she demanded when he continued his silence.
“My duty to protect you outweighs your wishes in this instance, my Queen,” Dalair finally said. “And it is too late to change guards as Tristan and Aella are on a mission. You know that Xandros is not at full capacity yet. I am your only option today, and you must have protective escort.”
When Sophia inhaled deeply, whether to prepare for screaming in frustration or to shout further arguments at him, Dalair quickly broke in before she could fully charge her lungs, “Perhaps a compromise can be reached between us. I will escort you to the meeting place and stay outside and out of sight. I promise you your friend will not see or hear me, will not know I escorted you there. I also promise to tune out my hearing on spoken words so that I cannot understand your conversation, but I will magnify my hearing on all other sounds as well as the rest of my senses to detect and anticipate any danger.”
Sophia exhaled without blasting his ears, but her rebellious scowl remained.
Dalair pushed for closure, “Do we have a deal? Will you now tell me where you are going?”
Sophia wanted to accuse him of false promises just to be a bitch, but she knew that would be unwise. With a warrior like Dalair, you never ever hinted, much less outright questioned, that his honor might not be upheld, that he would fail to deliver on his promises once he gave them. So she swallowed back the caustic remarks burning on the tip of her tongue and admitted defeat.
She was stuck with him today and there was nothing she could do about it.
It wasn’t just that his presence put a crimp in her normal teenage social life, or at least her best imitation of it, it was more that she simply didn’t want
him
of all people to escort her to Ere’s apartment.
It just felt wrong.
It made Sophia feel inordinately guilty. As if she were cheating on her boyfriend with someone else.
But that was ridiculous! Dalair wasn’t anywhere near boyfriend material. Not for Sophia anyway. If anything, she should be feeling guilty toward Ere for showing up at his place with another hot, hot guy. She still hadn’t put her finger on the perfect descriptor for Dalair, but he was definitely double hot. Hotness squared. Hotness times infinity.
Ugh. She was so disgusted with herself. How lame to be lusting after your bodyguard who sees you as his bratty kid sister at best, bothersome, incompetent baggage at worst. How could she crush on someone who had changed her diapers?
She had to suck it up and be responsible. At least he was willing to give her some leeway.
“Back Bay,” she finally answered him, while turning around to present him with her back. “Can you please zip me up?”
Dalair was presented with a tantalizing view of Sophia’s smooth, slender back, the curve of her spine gracefully leading to the lacy edge of low-rise panties. It was pink.
Clenching his jaw, Dalair complied with efficiency, careful not to brush her skin.
Sophia flipped her hair out over the neck of the dress, sending a cloud of her personal fragrance to besiege Dalair’s senses. He immediately tried to block his sense of smell, but he was an instant too late and inhaled her unique combination of lavender and innocence.
After all these millennia, even in a different form, she still smelled the same.
Would she also taste the same?
Dalair unconsciously backed up two steps as his body hardened in recognition.
Oblivious to the Elite guard’s potent reaction to her nearness, Sophia stomped back into the bathroom to finish her preparations. In the end, she opted to pull her rebellious mane into a plump ponytail, leaving tendrils of hair framing her face prettily, despite their haphazardness.
She completed her outfit will furry UGG booties that Aella had given her last Christmas in an attempt to bring her into more fashionable territory. Not quite a match for her ensemble, but they were the most stylish footwear she owned. All the rest of her shoes were sneakers, with one pair of bright red rain boots.
She slung her book bag over her shoulder and cast a narrowed-eye look at Dalair, warning him silently to fulfill his promises.
“Let’s go.”

“We need to head back a day early,” Ayelet said grimly as she deciphered the encrypted messages from the Shield.

“What has happened?” Rain raised her head to ask, startled and concerned. She was starting preparations for midday meal while Valerius and Cloud were out on surveillance. Cloud had foiled two vampires during their attack yesterday but there could well be more.

“Dalair and Aella believe that someone is forcefully turning Pure Ones into vampires,” Ayelet replied, exhaling deeply in worry and frustration.

“And not just any Pure One, but highly trained, ancient warriors. Meanwhile, Orion and Eveline are already on their way back to the Shield. Their search for the two warriors in Russia and Sweden have turned up empty, and they barely escaped a trap. If Aella is not mistaken, the vampire assassin she recently fought was the Russian warrior we were trying to recruit. We must consider the possibility that the Viking warrior has been turned as well.”

“Goddess above,” Rain whispered, laying down the dicing knife. “We need Cloud to return with us more than ever.”

“Agreed,” Ayelet nodded, closing her minicomputer.
She met Rain’s eyes and hesitated, unsure how best to approach the question. Finally, she asked, “What is your level of confidence that Cloud will consent to join our ranks?”
Rain blinked and frowned a little. Why would Ayelet assume she’d have a better read on the warrior’s intentions when Ayelet was the one with the Gift of empathy?
“I’m not sure,” she responded slowly. “He clearly prefers his seclusion and this peaceful way of life. Yet, I also know that he is extremely honorable and would struggle to deny our request for aid. If we put our case before him, update him on the recent events, surely he would lend his strength.”
“And there would be no other incentive besides an appeal on his honor?” Ayelet pressed softly.
Rain’s frown deepened. “What are you implying?”
Ayelet sighed and went to stand opposite Rain across the stone table where she worked on the ingredients for their luncheon.
“I apologize for being roundabout,” Ayelet said, “I just thought that there was a more intimate connection between you and Cloud from your interactions yesterday. Perhaps an old friendship, perhaps a cultural bond. And maybe some… mutual attraction as well?”
The Healer’s cheeks pinkened, whether from embarrassment or anger, Ayelet could not tell. Rain cast her eyes downward and said, “You are mistaken. Cloud and I do not have a prior relationship, nor do I imagine we will be more intimate than comrades in the future. Valerius asked me much the same yesterday.”
At that realization, Rain looked back at Ayelet. “Why are you both asking me these things? There is nothing out of the ordinary between me and Cloud.”
Ayelet held Rain’s gaze and, despite her Mate’s warning, she couldn’t resist interfering just a little. “Drako seems like a prime candidate for your next Consort, Rain. Anyone can see that. He is more than qualified to Serve you, and you seem to genuinely like each other. If Cloud thought along the same lines, perhaps it would be added incentive for him to return with us.”
Before Rain could object, as she was clearly getting ready to do, her frown darkening into a scowl, her head already shaking, Ayelet put up a hand to delay her. “But clearly, you are preoccupied with the current Phoenix Cycle, and very much invested in your current Consort.”
“Rain.”
The heavy emphasis Ayelet put on her name made Rain grow still and listen closely to what the Guardian had to say.
“Exactly what does Valerius mean to you?” Ayelet paused several moments to let the question sink in.
When the combativeness seemed to deflate from the Healer as she considered her feelings, Ayelet continued softly, “It seems to me that he is more than just your Consort. Even when you first met, you seemed inordinately drawn to each other. Although at first I thought it was negative tension, it did not escape me how he drew your attention whenever he was near, despite that at the time, you had a different Consort.”
Ayelet leaned in and clasped one of Rain’s hands in both of hers. “I’ve known you for centuries, my friend. I’ve never seen you so involved in a male.”
Rain looked away, unable to deny the truth of Ayelet’s words. The Guardian knew her past. Knew the calamity she caused with her first Consort. Knew why she always held herself back, guarding her emotions closely, with every other Consort and male thereafter.
But Valerius was different. And she was different when she was with him.
“Do you love him?”
Rain gasped at the sudden pain that exploded in her heart when she heard her friend’s question. Involuntarily, her chin began to quiver and tears flooded her eyes.
Yes!
She wanted to shout, to declare to the world. She loved Valerius more than her own life. More than anyone she’d ever known.
But she didn’t dare utter a sound. She didn’t know if it was enough. When she thought she’d loved her first Consort, as well as Fan Li during her human life, neither of those loves was great enough to change her destiny.
True, her feelings for Valerius was far deeper, far more encompassing. But was it because he was the one true Mate for her, or because she’d been starving for decades and he was the strongest Consort she’d ever had? Had she become addicted to his
Nourishment? Did addiction equal love?
She’d never known anyone like the Protector. Full of pain, restraint, ever plagued by demons from his past, knowing little joy in his long existence. Yet so strong, so selfless and brave to win his battles against darkness and despair. A male less worthy would not have survived the suffering he’d endured. And not only survive, but remain
good
and pure of soul.
Rain was in awe of him. In lust with him.
Enraptured by him.
Of course she
loved
him.
But there were many forms of love. She knew what Ayelet asked, and no matter how Rain searched within herself, the answer would not come.
The Guardian sighed and squeezed Rain’s hand. “Forgive my intrusion. Forget I said anything. It is not my place to ask. It is between you are Val. I just…”
She tilted her head to the side to gain Rain’s attention and met the Healer’s eyes. “I just want the best for both of you. And I’ll say just one last thing. Trust yourself, Rain. Don’t let the past confuse your feelings. Don’t second-guess yourself. And trust Valerius. He is a male of few words and fewer expressions. But you
know
him. Deep down, you know him.”
As Rain held her friend’s compassionate gaze, the tears streaked silently down her cheeks. Enforcing discipline upon herself, she blinked them away and straightened her spine.
Resolutely she nodded. Whatever it cost, she would not repeat the mistakes of her past.
“They have returned,” Ayelet said, turning toward the cavern entrance at the sound of the secret gateway sliding open. “We must ready for departure.” *** *** *** ***
Sophia climbed the few brick steps to the front entrance of the Back Bay brownstone with some trepidation.
She was meeting with a
man
.
A man to whom she was attracted. And he was so out of her league he might as well be from an alternate universe.
She surreptitiously looked around before buzzing Ere’s apartment. As he’d promised, Dalair made himself invisible. By all appearances, Sophia had walked to Marlborough Street from the Christian Science Center by herself.
But all along the way she knew he was there, her designated protector.
Her nemesis.
Sophia took a deep breath and pushed the buzzer a tad more forcefully than she intended as she tried to block Dalair from her thoughts. She was here to see Ere. She was here to help him with research.
And to ogle him when he wasn’t paying attention.
She wouldn’t let Dalair distract or detract from her treat.
The door unlocked. Sophia squared her shoulders and went inside.
Ere’s apartment was in the basement of the three story townhouse. He shared the residence with two other families, Sophia deduced, glancing quickly at the mailboxes on the first floor. As she braced herself to knock on his door, it swung open before she had a chance.
And there stood the beautiful angel himself, beaming blindingly down at her.
“Welcome, Sophia,” Ere said in his melodious voice. “Please come in and make yourself at home.”
He ushered Sophia inside with a hand on the small of her back, sending tingles of delight through her torso from the warm, gentle pressure.
“May I take your coat?” he asked solicitously.
Sophia readily handed it over, for the apartment was surprisingly warm, almost overly so, from a fire that blazed in the hearth and the bright lights that made her feel they were bathed in daylight rather than in an almost windowless basement.
“Would you like something to drink? Water, juice, tea?”
“Uhn.”
That was the first sound to come from her lips. She was off to a fantastic start.
Ere tilted his head slightly at her mastery of the English language and etiquette. But he seemed more amused than disappointed, for he said with a smile, “Juice it is. I hope mango will do.”
Sophia nodded sheepishly and changed her weight from foot to foot. She watched him pour her juice in the small but modern kitchen and was too hypnotized by his lithe form and graceful movements to take in her surroundings. Her eyes were riveted on his person.
He came back to her shortly with her juice, brushing her fingers casually when handing her the glass. Sophia didn’t think her heart could handle too much more of this touchy feely stuff, not when every slight brush of skin against skin sent shocks of electricity through her.
She clumsily stepped away from him and almost tripped over an ornate velvet-cushioned chair behind her. Thankfully, her knees buckled in a timely manner and her backside managed to find the chair rather than the wooden floor. The juice sloshed dangerously in her glass, but by sheer force of will, she stared it into submission and managed to keep from spilling.
“If you don’t mind, I will partake of some wine,” Ere said, his lips quirking at one corner as he witnessed her near tumble.
Sophia gestured for him to do as he pleased, and he returned to the kitchen.
That was when Sophia’s surroundings finally hit her: Ere’s apartment was a veritable treasure trough.
In awe, she glanced around the walls full of antique sconces, paintings, murals, silk scrolls. There were shelves upon shelves of books, sculptures and what looked to be genuine artifacts from various places around the world and times across history. The furniture was comfortable and lived in, but beautiful in design, an eclectic collection of vintage pieces. Before the fireplace was a large, fluffy, well-worn sheepskin rug. In the center was a small stone table just large enough to support an exquisite chess set. Sophia could almost hear the invitation to come sit beside the fire and indulge in an intimate game.
There was background music playing, the soothing melodies reaching her ears from the room on the other side of a short, narrow hallway. She leaned back in her chair slightly to see better, but it was too dark to make anything out.
It must be his bedroom, she thought with a nervous swallow of juice. Better to focus the rest of her perusal on her immediate quarters.
Ere emerged from the kitchen once more with a glass of red wine and a tray of cheeses and fruit. He set the tray on a small coffee table within Sophia’s reach.
Casually folding his long, lean limbs onto a mahogany Victorian chaise lounge with gold and red striped cushions and pillows, Ere looked like an exotic bird of prey in his very own paradise. Sophia, by contrast, felt like a drab, out-of-place, inferior creature, potentially of the rodent variety.
Ere took a slow sip of wine and hypnotized the unfortunate little gray mouse with his glittering gaze. Smiling a little, he said, “Did you miss me?”
Sophia just stared back unblinkingly in response, tried to take another swallow of her juice, only to find she’d already drank it all. She set the glass down on the table and, with no small effort, dragged her eyes away from his.
“You have a really nice place,” she uttered her first coherent sentence, ignoring his question. “Is everything genuine or are they replicas?”
“Do you think I can afford the genuine articles on a teaching assistant’s salary?” Ere asked in return.
“I guess not,” Sophia murmured, “but they sure look like the real thing.”
Vaguely, it occurred to her that he had not answered her question directly.
“Were you able to find this address easily?” Ere leaned forward to pick a couple of luscious green grapes from the tea tray.
Sophia nodded. “I live pretty close by.”
“Really? You do not live on campus as do most Freshmen?”
Tempted by the way Ere seemed to enjoy his grapes, Sophia plucked a few for herself. “No, I live in Boston city with friends.”
“Ah,” he said, twirling the wine in his glass before taking another small sip. “Did one of your friends escort you here?”
Sophia startled at the question. Strangely, she felt almost as if she were being interrogated.
But then Ere smiled and added with an endearing expression of embarrassment, “it’s just that you never seem to be alone. On the first day of class you were with your friend Aella, and the first time we met, there was a man coming to your table to join you just as I was leaving. The times I’ve seen you walking around campus you were always with someone. I must admit it took me a bit of courage to approach you that day in the cafeteria.”
Sophia blushed and looked down at her lap. “I don’t understand why you’d have trouble approaching anyone,” she said honestly.
Ere leaned forward with elbows on knees and waited until Sophia looked at him again. “Perhaps I am shy,” he told her, “especially around a girl as lovely as you.”
Sophia turned beet red. Uncomfortably, she dropped his gaze and changed the subject. “So what treasures did you bring from the Louvre?”
Ere sighed and sat back. Apparently it was too early for more intimate conversations with his little mouse. Somehow, Sophia’s reticence only made her more attractive to him.
“Come, I will show you the etchings I made.”
Sophia was in her element after that, poring through notes from Ere’s research and the etchings of millennia-old symbols and drawings. They spent hours brainstorming, searching through the considerable library of research Ere had in the apartment on ancient Persia, chatting, snacking, even joking and laughing.
Sophia got past her awe of Ere’s physical beauty and focused more on the meeting of minds. He was exceptionally knowledgeable and sharp, quick to raise alternative possibilities to established theories and written records. She was enthralled by the way he brought the ancient world to life with his sketches and descriptions. They felt so real, it seemed as if he had actually been to the places and times he studied.
It was almost midnight before Sophia could no longer ignore the vibration against her wrist on the underside of her turquoise bracelet, which served as both jewelry and a hidden communication channel between her, her guard and the Shield. Over the last hour, it vibrated every ten minutes, then every five.
Dalair must be getting impatient.
Slowly, Sophia stretched to a sitting position from her lazy sprawl on the sheepskin rug, then stood and hugged her arms around her torso.
“I better go home,” she said regretfully. “It’s really late and my friends are waiting for me.”
Ere stood as well. There was barely half a foot separating them, and whereas the Sophia who entered the apartment would have automatically stepped back to distance herself, after spending the past few hours with Ere, the present Sophia kept her footing firm.