The Invisible Ring (44 page)

“Lia . . .”

“If you’re not comfortable with it, I can ask Talon—”

Jared shot to his feet. “I’ll kill him first.”

Lia blinked. Frowned. Finally said, “If you kill him first, won’t that make the rest of it ... awkward?”

“It will make it impossible,” Jared replied, spacing out each word.

“Oh.”

Jared rubbed his hands over his face. His body remembered what it felt like to hold her, kiss her, and it
wanted
. His heart yearned to make love to her. His mind kept squeaking the words “Virgin Night” like some terrified mouse.

Jared lowered his hands. “I’ll be back shortly. You stay right here.” He gestured toward a chair. “Sit down. Relax. Concentrate on breathing or something.”

He bolted from the room.

Out in the corridor, Jared sagged against the wall.

He’d have to find Talon and ask him. Hell’s fire, he had to ask
someone
.

Being a pleasure slave didn’t qualify him for seeing a witch through her Virgin Night. He’d seen plenty of witches who’d been broken during that first intimacy. They all had a lost, slightly vacant look in their eyes. Any fire that had burned in their hearts had been snuffed out under a man’s body.

If something went wrong, he didn’t think he could bear seeing Lia’s eyes filled with that lost, vacant expression.

Oh, witches adjusted to the loss of their Jewels and their Craft. The ones from aristo families were sent into arranged marriages. He wasn’t sure what kind of life the others endured. They adjusted. But they were never again whole. Many of them just faded away until there was little more than a husk left going through the motions of living. Some of them slipped into madness.

None of them could be seeded more than once after being broken, and more than half of those pregnancies ended with an early miscarriage.

When he was younger, he thought it was unfair that broken witches should be stripped of their ability to have children as well as being stripped of their Jewels. But after having lived in the Territories that stood in Hayll’s shadow, he doubted any of them regretted that barrenness. It was not in a witch’s nature to become a breeder for the gender she would consider as the enemy.

Jared pushed away from the wall. He and Talon had spent the early afternoon removing the seats in the two small Coaches so they could fit more people in, while Yarek oversaw packing the storage spaces—and finding a safe place for the six honey pear trees Lia insisted come with them.

Thank the Darkness, some of Talon’s men knew how to handle a Coach, so there was no problem now about finding drivers.

With luck, Talon would be checking on something else that had to be readied for their departure, and it would take some time to find him. Maybe by then, Lia would have reconsidered.

He shook his head. Not with Thera’s warning riding her.

Before he took two steps, Talon turned the corner.

Groaning, Jared sagged against the wall again.

“She still upset?” Talon asked, eyeing the bedroom door.

“Not exactly,” Jared muttered.

Talon’s eyes narrowed. “She feeling all right?”

“She’s doing fine.” Jared looked Talon in the eyes. “She wants her Virgin Night.”

Talon gaped at him. “
Now
?”

“Yes. Now. I was just coming to look for you.”

Watching Talon sag against the wall made Jared feel better.

Talon rubbed a hand over his chest. “She wants me to—”

“No,” Jared said too quickly.

A slow, wicked smile curved Talon’s mouth. “In that case, Warlord, since the woman and the bed are in there, why are you out here?”

Jared’s face heated. He shifted so that his back was fully pressed against the wall. “I’ve been a pleasure slave since I was eighteen.”

Talon nodded in understanding. “That’s a long time to know the bed without ever knowing intimacy or pleasure. And at that age . . . Hell’s fire, you can probably count the number of times you were
really
with a woman.”

“I could count it on one hand and not use all my fingers.”

Talon rubbed his forehead. “Mother Night, you’re almost a virgin yourself.

Are you sure you want to do this?”

Jared stared at the opposite wall. “She asked me.” He paused. “Would you consider seeing a witch through her Virgin Night a duty?”

Talon stiffened. “I’d call it an honor.”

Satisfied, Jared nodded. “You’ve done it?”

“A few times. It’s safer when the male wears the darker Jewel.”

Talon settled more comfortably against the wall and crossed his arms. “It’s not that difficult, really.”

“It’s dangerous,” Jared argued.

“It can be if you forget why you’re in the bed—or if she panics.”

Well, that helped.

It took less than five minutes for Talon to explain what he had to do for the Virgin Night.

“That’s it?” Jared asked.

Talon shrugged. “That’s it. Just take it slow. Let her get comfortable with each step before you go on to the next, and you’ll do all right.”

Jared glanced at the end of the hall.

“Go on,” Talon said with a smile. “I’ll stay here and make sure she doesn’t bolt.”

Jared took a deep breath, blew it out, and then walked to the bathroom at the end of the hall.

After cleaning his teeth, he paused and sniffed himself. He shook his head and stripped. Halfway through the fast bath, he realized he’d accepted what he was about to do and felt steady.

More than steady.

He dried off, vanished the sweaty clothes he’d been working in, then called in the trousers Daemon had given him and put them on. No point wearing anything more, he thought as his hand closed over the Red Jewel around his neck. He ran his other hand over the trousers. Did clothes retain something of the person who had worn them? Right now, he wouldn’t mind absorbing some of Daemon’s bedroom skills.

Jared closed his eyes and took a couple of deep, quiet breaths. He thought of the way Daemon’s hands glided over a woman’s body, coaxing, caressing.

It became a slow, delicious dance that a woman was helpless to resist. It changed so subtly from cool water to fire she never had a chance to see the blaze before it consumed her in pleasure.

Smiling, Jared returned to the bedroom door.

Talon gave him an assessing look, returned the smile, and walked away. At the corner, he raised his hand. A Sapphire shield blocked the hall.

“That will make sure you’re not disturbed,” Talon said. He gave Jared an easy salute and left.

Taking one last deep breath, Jared opened the bedroom door.

Lia sat in the chair, fretting the sweater.

Jared leaned against the door and smiled when she peeked at him through her lashes.

“It’s not as if you haven’t seen me before,” Jared said, charmed by the shyness.

“That was different,” Lia muttered, focusing on his bare feet.

Jared took another breath . . .

. . . and heard the drums.

Heard the Priestess’s voice rising out of the twilight to call the men to the dance.

His nostrils flared. His blood heated. Tension flowed out of him as desire saturated his body.

He flicked a glance at the hearth. The wood that had been readied to take the evening chill out of the room began to burn.

A flick of his hand closed the curtains. Only the young fire lit the room, smudging all the sharp lines until there were no lines, until the walls seemed to disappear and go on forever.

Another flick of his hand vanished all the furniture except the bed and the small tables on either side of it.

Lia yelped when she landed on the floor. “Jared, what—”

He walked toward her. Her eyes widened.

“Can you hear the drums, Lia?” he asked softly.

“Can you hear them? Like the land’s heartbeat. Or the heartbeat of the Shalador people.” He held out his hands. “Let me show you the Fire Dance.”

He lifted her up and pulled her against him. Her heart beat a staccato rhythm. Her cold hands pushed at his waist.

He did nothing but hold her, letting his eyes wander over her face.

When she stopped trying to push him away, he slowly lowered his head, his lips parting for a kiss.

She arched back to escape his lips. He smiled because it only pushed her hips tighter against his.

Since she wouldn’t give him her mouth, he took her throat. Soft kisses.

Gentle sucking.

He licked her jaw.

Her hands clamped on his waist.

“Do you hear them, Lia?” he asked as he licked the corner of her mouth with the tip of his tongue.

“I—I hear something beating.” Her voice had gone husky.

“The drums.” Jared brushed his lips over hers.

Her eyes were dark smoke. “Is there someone singing?”

“Yes,” he whispered into her ear. “Listen to her. Follow her. The Fire Dance lies at the end of her voice.”

He covered her mouth with his and let them both sink into the drums and the voice and the musky twilight.

Stepping back, he drew her into the center of the room.

Lia plucked at the sweater. “It’s warm in here.”

“Take it off,” Jared suggested quietly as he slowly circled her, his feet automatically following the set pattern of steps.

Lia tossed the sweater aside. She puffed out her cheeks. “Maybe we should open a window.”

“Maybe you should take off the shirt.” His fingertips brushed down her arm as he moved past her. “The Fire’s supposed to be hot.”

She reached for the first button. Her hand froze. Her eyes locked on the golden chest that glistened from more than one kind of heat.

“Let me help.” Jared gave her a feathery kiss while he used Craft to undo all the buttons. His hands brushed the shirt aside, brushed it over her shoulders, brushed it down her back.

She made breathy little sounds.

“Watch me.” He stepped back into his circle. “Watch the Dance.”

“Aren’t—” Lia puffed out her cheeks again. “Aren’t you supposed to be naked when you do that?”

He vanished the trousers.

She gulped and tried to stare at her feet, but he’d already drawn her in too deeply. She raised her head and watched him dance, watched the muscles flex, watched him smile as he moved his hips, watched the shadows form into other dancers.

Listening to the drums, Jared increased the tempo, stepping close enough to brush against her, stepping back to widen the circle.

She pivoted in the center of the circle, her eyes following him, no longer shy enough to look away from a male celebrating his maleness.

As the drums began to fade, Jared wrapped an arm around Lia’s waist and whirled her around the room until they reached the side of the bed.

Cupping her face in his hands, he kissed her long and deep.

“Let me show you the rest of the Fire Dance,” he said hoarsely.

She didn’t answer. But the look in her eyes was answer enough.

He undressed her slowly, coaxed her into the bed, and stretched out beside her.

She shifted a little to move her hips away from his throbbing cock.

He shifted with her.

“It’ll be all right,” he said as his hand glided down her arm and back again.

“It’ll be all right.”

While he brushed his lips against hers, he reached with his mind and brushed lightly against her inner barriers.

She recoiled with a gasp.

Jared murmured soothing nothings while he kissed and caressed her.

Always before, he’d given pleasure in order to escape the pain of punishment. Now he gave pleasure for the pleasure of giving it. He explored her body, fascinated by the muscles that quivered, and finally relaxed, under his light touch. He tasted her, rubbed himself against her so that her scent would be on his skin and his on hers. He laughed silently when her fingers dove into his hair to hold his mouth to her breast. He enjoyed the way her body both pulled away from and reached for the finger lightly brushing between her legs.

And all the while he slowly seduced her body, he stroked her inner barriers until she was so used to his presence she didn’t react at all.

Then he began the journey into the abyss. Down, down, down while his mouth and fingers made her quietly desperate, while her grasping hands made him burn.

Down, down, down until he slipped under her inner barriers and saw the shining green web of herself.

Jared flowed upward. Carefully, delicately, he brushed a strand of her inner web.

Her body tensed. Thrashed.

His rolled, half-covering her to keep her still.

*It’s all right, Lia.* He brushed the strand again.

*Yes,* she said, but her body shuddered, and she didn’t sound at all convinced.

Following Talon’s instructions, Jared carefully flowed his Red strength between the strands of her web, then formed a shield above her. That, Talon had explained, was why it was better for the male to wear the darker Jewel. If the witch panicked for some reason and tried to descend into the abyss, she wouldn’t be able to get past the shield and inadvertently rip through her own inner web.

When he was done, he kissed her—and jerked back in surprise.

“What . . .” Lia said, her eyes wide with shock.

Jared caressed her breast, and felt the caress.

She pulled his head down and kissed him with a hunger that, when added to his own, left him reeling.

This was the seduction and the danger, Jared realized as he kissed her again. When a man was inside a woman’s inner barriers, he could become so tangled up in the physical sensations of being both the giver and receiver that he wouldn’t be able to distinguish his body from hers.

He covered her. Felt his body pressing her down. Felt the bed under her back. Felt himself press into the opening until he met the physical barrier.

Jared buried his face against her neck.

Breathing hard, Lia gripped his shoulders. “Do it.”

“Lia . . .”

“Do it.”

He thrust.

And took the pain as well as the pleasure.

For a moment, the world turned end over end, whirling them in a storm of sensations.

He wanted to thrust again, to feel that pleasure.

He was terrified of the blood that covered him.