Seduced by Crimson (23 page)

"I was wrong," Xiao Fei said.

"We're not demons," began Patrick.

Keeli waved them to silence. "I know you're not demons; I was just messing with you. You make too damn much noise to be demons." She pointed to her ears. "Werewolves have really good hearing. I've been listening at the door. Plus, you smell human."

Patrick took a moment to absorb this information, and with that knowledge came embarrassment. Just how much had she heard?

Keeli crossed wearily into the room. "Do you really think you can close the gate?"

"No," answered Xiao Fei.

At the same moment, Patrick said, "Yes."

Keeli stared at them. "What do you need from me to attempt it?"

Patrick shook his head. "Nothing. Except maybe a room where we can be undisturbed."

"Druid mojo?" Keeli asked.

Patrick nodded, ignoring the glint in her eye.

"Any danger to the tunnels or my people?"

"None."

"Except for having pissed-off demons come storming the door" said Xiao Fei. "They'll come for us." She swallowed. "They'll come for me."

Keeli sighed. "We've already got pissed-off demons storming our door. Not to mention frightened humans and a few vamps." She dropped down into a chair, and Patrick noticed a deep scrape along her arm.

"How bad is it out there?" he asked.

She looked at him, her eyes hollow. "The demons knew what to hit and where. LAX is in flames. B-Ops is under attack; I know that much. They had problems with infiltrators. The One-ten is blown near downtown, and one of our subway stations is impassable." She lifted her chin. "But we're strong and resilient. The demons won't get a foothold in wolf territory."

"And the human population?" Xiao Fei asked, her voice subdued. "The regular people?"

"We're helping as best we can, but we've got limited resources. There's no doubt the demons are a threat to all of us, so whatever you can do, druid, do it fast."

Patrick nodded. Here it was: the weight of yet another race descending on his shoulders. He didn't need the werewolf alpha pressuring him to do his job, but he felt the keener responsibility nonetheless. "I'm working as fast as I can."

"Good." She gestured to the sentries. "Take them to Riley's old room. Get them whatever they need."

Xiao Fei stepped forward. "I don't know what you heard outside the door, but don't pin any hopes on this. It's a silly dream that…"

Her voice faded away as Keeli waved her to silence. "I don't care. We're going to shut it one way or another. Luckily, the humans started this disaster and they're the ones taking the brunt of the damage. I have to believe they're also the ones who have the best tools to fix it. If that means druids or B-Ops or whatever, my job is to keep my people safe and help as best I can."

Patrick nodded in respect. This one small woman was already showing herself to be a great leader. "Thank you. We won't fail you."

The werewolf rubbed a weary hand over her face. "Whatever. Go do it."

Riley's old room was spare, small, and had the stale scent of disuse. Patrick could smell the faint odor of wolf permeating the room, but didn't care once he saw the blessing of a shower. Another bathroom with running water. In the werewolf tunnels. Hallelujah!

The guards left with barely an acknowledgment. One thought to ask if they needed any food, but both Patrick and Xiao Fei shook their heads. Privacy was what they wanted. The other guard glared hard at them, his wolf fangs bared in anger. He clearly didn't want them there, but was bowing to his Alpha's orders. Patrick waited in tense silence, wondering just how many wolves felt the same. Were any of them reckless enough to disobey Keeli? There wasn't time to find out. And thankfully, the guards soon left.

"Don't even think of touching me," Xiao Fei said when the door closed. "Not until I've showered. I hate feeling like this."

"Dirty?" Patrick asked.

She shook her head. "Stinky. Everything in a war smells: the fear, the death, the rot." She shuddered. "That's what I remember most about coming to the United States. My first hot shower. The smell of soap and cleanliness."

"How old were you?"

"Ten. My mother gave me French vanilla bath wash and herbal shampoo. I didn't even know what vanilla was, but how I loved that smell."

Patrick pushed open the bathroom door and sniffed—unscented Dial soap and indeterminate shampoo, both from some hotel chain. It was a good bet that Riley worked in housekeeping. "I swear that, when this whole thing is over, I'll buy you the most expensive shampoo and soap money can buy."

She shrugged and joined him in the bathroom. "Clean is all I care about." Then she pushed him out the door.

He left the bathroom willingly. He'd already seen there wasn't a lock. Let her get clean while he made his other preparations: candle, rowan leaf, flint. She'd already be running water; he'd heard her turn on the tap. The amulet was heating up on his chest. All that was left were his prayer and the belief that this time it would work.

He was the Earth. His blood flowed like the rivers and pulsed like the oceans. His flesh was the ground: dark, rich dirt all the way down to the planet's molten core. The strength of his bones was of the rocks and metals, the hardened exterior of the planet. And his mind encompassed all life: insect, plant, bird, and human, plus vampire and werewolf. They were all one. He was one with them. Together they would heal the world's open wound.

He stepped into the bathroom, the creak of the door muffled by the shower noise. His bare feet absorbed the chill of the concrete floor. The steam merged in his mind with the mist of a primordial forest, an image from the past. Xiao Fei represented the future.

He didn't take the time or focus to analyze his thought. To him, Xiao Fei was simply a beautiful, unsullied, awe-inspiring future. When he merged with her, he would have it all: Earth in past, present, and future.

She stood inside the shower stall facing the stream, her face raised to the needle-thin trails of water. The light was stark, but also diffused because of the steam. Still, he could see her pearly white skin, as luminescent as the moon, and the long, sensual curve of her back, her buttocks, her legs. He also saw the full extent of her phoenix tattoo. The art was stunning, even more so because it adorned a fabulous body. Beautiful plumage outlined sensual curves. He knew the monks had tattooed her when she was a child, but clearly they'd known the woman she would become.

The face of the phoenix covered her right shoulder. Its bright red rooster neck arched erotically over her right breast, swelling into a full and glorious chest that brought wondrous attention to the dusky nipple. Huge wings soared upward over her left torso, outling her left breast in golden highlights. Lower down, the phoenix's bright tail feathers seemed to ripple and dance around her left hip, while sharp talons extended down her right thigh. In between was her sex—dark, wet, and so alluring. He felt the surge of his blood along with his desire. He wanted to feast his eyes longer, but he couldn't wait. He pushed open the fiberglass door and stepped in behind her.

She must have heard him coming. She didn't move, didn't even gasp. And when he slipped his hands around her waist, she released a sound that might have been a purr of delight or perhaps simply acceptance.

"Are you okay with this?" he asked as he pressed his lips to her wet shoulder. Indeed, he traced his tongue around the arch of a curling feather. "There are no spells this time, no ropes, no coercion. I shouldn't have done any of that." He paused, needing her to choose this of her own free will. "Will you let me make love to you?"

"Yes," she answered. Then she looked over her shoulder at him. "We're saving the Earth, right? With really good sex."

He smiled. "Right."

"Then why not?" He caught a flash of something new in her eyes. "You up to the task?" she asked.

In answer, he allowed his hips to drift closer, letting his male organ glide sensuously along the crease between her buttocks. His fingers slid upward to cup her firm breasts. "I'll do my best." When she stiffened in his arms, he gentled his caress. "Lean back into me. Relax. Let me do the work."

"So… this is your job, huh?" Her voice was tight, betraying her anxiety, but she leaned back into him. He felt her heat all the way from his shoulders down to his swollen organ.

"No harm in enjoying one's work," he said, pushing a knee forward between her thighs. He liked watching the flex of her thigh as it extended and retracted the phoenix's talons. She resisted at first, but in time she opened her thighs, and he felt more of her settle on his leg. God, she felt good. Especially as she slowly—finally—allowed her head to lean back against his shoulder.

Abruptly, she flinched and jerked away. It took him a moment to understand what happened, but when he did, he cursed himself for his stupidity. She'd leaned back against the amulet. How well he remembered that first agonizing bite of pain. With a quick flick, he tossed the amulet over his shoulder so that it hung down his back. His shoulder blades twitched at the impact, and he took a moment to absorb the burning heat in that unaccustomed place. Meanwhile, Xiao Fei was pulling away from him.

"Give me a moment," he ground out, mentally accepting the burning energy against his back. He felt it, accepted it, then relegated it to a distant part of his mind. There was always pain on Earth, he told himself; that was part of living. And so he folded the sensation into his thoughts on Earth just as Xiao Fei was in front of him representing not only a blissful future, but also pleasure, joy, and all things beautiful.

She stepped forward and tried to straighten off his leg. He held her by her hips, but she fought him. "Do you have to wear that thing? Does it have to be part of what we do?" she asked.

"Yes. I have to touch it. It accentuates my ability to shape energy. That's what it does."

She ducked her head so the water stream hit him full in the face. "It's evil. It's a demon—"

"It's a
tool
." He adjusted his position and hers; then he took a deep breath and began reciting what he remembered from Jason's notes and his own studies. "Aeons ago, back before recorded time, the demons used these amulets to travel between Earth and Orcus. They were like mad gods to the humans. They had superior strength and magical powers, but their understanding of the gates was flawed."

Xiao Fei stilled as he spoke, so he allowed himself to caress the tattooed tail feathers along her wet hip, massaging the muscles there as he spoke.

"There was a disaster. I don't know what, but something happened to the gate. The veil started to close, demons went nuts, and the humans took advantage of it to kill as many of the monsters as possible. Most everything demonic was destroyed—but some things survived."

"That amulet."

He nodded. "There are other things too, I'm sure, but eventually this amulet came to be guarded by us druids. We know it for the tool it is: a way to shape energy, a way to open or close a gate to Orcus."

"And after this is all over?" She looked at him with a clear hope in her eyes. He hated to disappoint her.

"I can't destroy it, Xiao Fei. It's my job as the current Draig to protect it." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. "It's what allowed me to bring out Jian Ying's wolf DNA. It can heal as well as harm."

She didn't respond, and he spent long moments under the rapidly cooling water wondering whether she would even accept what he'd just told her. Her experience when she'd seen the Cambodian amulet had left her deeply scarred. Who could blame her for hating everything it represented and anyone who wielded it?

Fortunately, Xiao Fei was a practical woman. She understood the difficulties with managing energy. Her blood was at least as powerful as his amulet. So she eventually sighed and settled back on his thigh. "I'm so tired," she murmured. "I don't want the fate of the world to rest in my hands. I never did."

"Then relax your grip, Xiao Fei," he said. He slid his hands forward to rest against her belly, right at the base of her trailing wing feathers. "I'm a strong man. I can hold things up for a while."

"There's a fine line between strong and delusional, you know," she said, but there was no heat in her words. And then—to his shock—she lifted his hands to her mouth and pressed a kiss into each palm. He was more moved by that simple act of faith than anything he'd ever done or felt in his entire life. It rocked him to his core, and choked off any words he might have said. In the end, all he could do was press his cheek to her forehead as he pulled her back into his embrace.

"I suppose we had better get on with it," she said.

He still had no words, so he tried to put his thanks into his touch, his awe into a worshipful caress. Holding her steady with one hand, he grabbed soap with the other and lathered her up as best he could. She wanted to be clean? He would make her skin shine. She wanted this to be good and he would make it the best experience of her life.

He slid his soaped hand over her belly, letting the suds hide and reveal the glorious art. But then the colors of the tattoo faded from his thoughts as other sensations pushed to the fore. He felt the sharp jut of her hips, the softer trembling flesh of her abdomen, and he even played with the tiny indent of her belly button. She stretched against him, lengthening her rib cage, sucking in her stomach and flexing her bottom around his straining organ. He licked water off her shoulder in response. Wet and nourishing, she tasted like life to him, and in this way he was recalled to his purpose.