Wings of Fire (51 page)

He kissed her hard on the lips and she responded with a low cry in her throat as she threw her arms around his neck. His hand drifted low and caught her buttocks in his hand. He pressed her hard against him.

After a moment, she drew back. “Oh, God, I almost forgot.”

“Why the frown? What’s wrong?” He had the worst feeling.

“Greaves is mounting an attack. He’s been amassing his forces on the South Rim of the Grand Canyon.”

“Shit. Oh, shit. I’ve got to get over there.”

She grew very still as he pushed her away. He reached for his phone then caught sight of Parisa’s expression. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “I’m not sure.” She put her fist between her breasts. “Antony, be careful right now. Be careful of the choice you make.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I was so sure you were on the lawn that I rushed into harm’s way without knowing it. I realize there’s a battle taking shape, but don’t rush. I’m here with you now. Take a moment to think what it is you really need to do, what perhaps you and I need to do … together.”

He lowered the phone to his side and stared at her. “Something has changed for you, hasn’t it?”

She smiled, a very soft warm smile. “Yes, it has. I’m willing to do things I wasn’t so willing to do a few hours ago.”

He knew she referred to the
breh-hedden.
A shiver crossed over his shoulders. “Parisa,” he said softly.

“Just think about it, then make your call. I’m going to take a shower, here, in your bedroom.”

“Okay.” He lifted the phone and thumbed. “Hey, Jeannie, can you—”

“Patching you through to Thorne.”

Yeah, they were in deep shit for Jeannie not even to greet him.

“Give,” Thorne’s gravel voice barked at him.

“We’re out.”

A long silence, then, “How?”

He glanced at Parisa who stood next to the shower attempting, not altogether successfully, to fold off her clothes. Her shirt hung off one arm. Not bad for a beginner. The terra-cotta dust clung to her hair, her arms, her pants.

“Parisa used Alison’s memories about field construction and somehow disrupted the fields.”

Thorne whistled. “That’s one boatload of power but can you hold on for a second?”

Medichi frowned. “Sure.”

Thorne’s phone went dead. What the fuck? After a moment he came back online. “We have a sitch over here at the palace but Endelle said she wants the two of you to take some recoup time then check back in, maybe an hour or two. Can you do that?”

Two minutes ago, Medichi would have argued with Thorne. But two minutes ago, Parisa had seemed so very different.
Willing.

“We can do that,” he said.

“You know what’s going on?”

“Parisa told me.”

“And you’re not gonna bust my balls about this order?”

Medichi smiled. “Nope.”

“Well, fuck me. I’ll be in touch.” The line went dead.

He glanced in the direction of the bathroom. steam billowed from the shower.

He swallowed because right now his woman had to be naked. Her pants were hanging from the mirror frame, the empty mirror frame. Jesus, he really needed to get that replaced.

When the steam started carrying a light whiff of tangerine, his body responded. He started to pace.

He glanced at the ceiling, looked into the bathroom, and maybe it wouldn’t make a damn bit of difference but he created a shallow dome of mist inside both rooms.

“That’s so pretty, Antony. I don’t think I’ve seen your mist before. You know, it has almost a golden hue.”

For whatever reason the very feminine tone of her voice, and the compliment she’d just delivered, brought a rush of affection, even love, flowing through his chest in a warm wave. He put his hand between his pecs and worked at breathing for a good long minute.

He understood something in this moment—he loved this woman. He loved her.
He loved her.
He loved being with her and he especially loved that even though she’d just been through one helluva trauma, she could take her shower and say nice things about his mist.

His heart swelled, pushing his ribs and chest out and out until the whole damn thing broke, a breach in a dam, and love poured from him, a rushing river full of life.

He was dizzy and struggled to keep his balance, then he fell. He fell onto the Oriental rug. He rolled onto his back, his cheeks rising, his lips curved. He must have looked like an idiot and he knew terra-cotta dust was getting on his fine antique carpet but who the hell cared?

Love had come to him, had found him, had battered the walls of his heart and his life and had pushed through despite his unwillingness to open himself. He had felt protected, and maybe a little self-righteous being part of the Warriors of the Blood. He’d committed to them, to his brothers, and he’d pretended that this made him all that a man ever really needed to be; powerful, in control, master of his world, a warrior.

His gaze became focused on the coffer beams overhead, the ones burned with his wife’s poem. Directly above him, the final phrase,
Love rises on wings of fire.

Understanding spilled over his mind and body. He knew what needed to be done. He understood the greater meanings of the
breh-hedden
for him and for Parisa. He understood the purpose, at least in part, of the shared
royle
wings.

“Antony?”

He looked over at the opening to the bathroom. Parisa stood in the doorway, naked, water pouring from her long wet hair. Her usual dark brown waves looked black. The shower had stopped running.

He leaned up on an elbow. He couldn’t help it. He was a man and his woman had the most beautiful breasts. They were large and peaked from the water and the cool air of the room.

Oh. God.

But why was she standing there like that. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I
felt
you.” She put a hand over her heart. “Here, as though you were speaking to me. Were you? Were you trying to say something?”

He rose to his feet, still feeling off kilter, his mind uneven. He drew close and tried to keep his body calm as he approached so much femaleness. He took her hands in his, then bent down and placed a kiss on each.

His heart started to ache. He lifted his head and met her gaze. “I love you, Parisa.” His voice had sunk low. He was almost whispering. “I love you so much. I didn’t think we’d get to have one more minute together.” He swallowed hard. “Sorry, I’m having trouble breathing.”

Her amethyst eyes glittered in the soft light of the room. She rose on her tiptoes and kissed him. His heart constricted a little more. “You love me?” she asked.

“I love you,” he said. “I do.” His voice sounded laced now with rocks and thorns. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

“Oh, Antony.” He still had hold of her hands so once more she rose and kissed him. This time her lips lingered and his heart tightened a little more.

“I don’t know how this happened,” he said, “but I’m grateful, so grateful. I never thought I’d feel gratitude for the
breh-hedden,
but I do. I could never have reached for you otherwise, never drawn this close to you without the demands of that
myth
beating the stubbornness out of me.” He smiled. “Some myth, huh?”

She nodded. Her gaze moved back and forth over his as though searching for the truth. Didn’t she believe him?

“Parisa, when I watched you die earlier, and I was unable to do anything about it, I wanted to die, too. The sooner the better.”

She frowned. “Wait. But you came to me when I was near death, perhaps even when I was clinically dead. I heard your voice in my head,
Live, live.
You repeated it over and over.”

He had.

“You brought me back. I know that now. There was a part of me that wanted to die as well and I remembered what Rith said, that coming back is an act of will. So, what happened? What changed?”

“You came to me.”

She closed her eyes. “I don’t understand.”

“I have not given my heart in all these centuries because I didn’t believe I had a heart to give. I buried my heart in my wife’s and son’s graves. When I met Thorne, and learned I had a permanent place in the Warriors of the Blood, I was done with everything else forever.

“When the
breh-hedden
struck I was enraged because I’d felt the first shattering of the walls I’d built around myself. Truth? I’d convinced myself there were no walls, I’d become a more sensible man. I was a vampire, I had powers, I knew how to make war, so war I would make and everything else could go to hell. I was in good company, too, until Alison arrived and turned Kerrick’s life upside down. Although I think I was even more affected by Havily. I’d already been experiencing affection for her, even at times inappropriate desire.”

“Oh, really.” Parisa’s eyes darkened.

His heart gave a little cry of joy. “Jealous?” he asked. He slid his arms around her back and pulled her close, even though he was still dust-laden and she was wet. She’d end up muddy but he didn’t care.

“You just stay away from Havily Morgan, vampire.” She kissed him again, only this one involved a lot of tongue and hard probing until his lips parted and she could force her way into his mouth. He groaned to see
his woman
intent on staking her claim.

She put her hand on his shoulder. He felt the vibration of a clothing-fold, but her powers in this area were still clearly lacking. His shirt was now plastered over his face. He was laughing as he sent,
Try it again.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.” The vibration began and yes, his shirt was off but now his cargoes were caught around his ankles. He fell backward, pulling her with him.

She was a laughing, muddy mess as she saw what she’d done. He didn’t care. She was in exactly the position he wanted her as he said, “Complete the
breh-hedden
with me, Parisa, here and now.”

Her brows rose and her body stilled on top of his. He thought the thought and got rid of his pants and steel-toed boots, even his socks.

“I want to,” she said. “But there’s something I need to know.”

“And what’s that?” he asked softly. He didn’t want to spook her.

She smiled, a very soft smile, and put her hand on his cheek. He turned into her hand and put a kiss in the center of her palm. She wiggled her hips against his in response. He groaned.

“Wait,” she said, breathless. “The sex is always great with you. But something has troubled me for days now, since I learned we had the same kind of wings,
royle
wings. I know that something extraordinary happens when the final link of a
breh-hedden
settles into place but, Antony I have this
feeling
”—she leaned sideways slightly to put her fist between her breasts—“right here. I’m worried.”

He sat up and drew her onto his lap. They were naked and a mess, but whatever this was it had to be settled first. “You’re worried about our wings?”

She nodded. “But I don’t know why.”

“I have the same heavy sensation as well. This could be an extension of the
breh-hedden,
I just don’t know. What I do know is that I don’t care. I want this with you more than anything in the world. I want the added responsibility, and I want the increase in powers. I want you in my life now and forever, no matter what comes, no matter what difficulties emerge, no matter what powers come to us as a couple. I want this because I want you.”

Tears shimmered in her eyes. “I was so proud of my independence.” She shook her head. “But not until I collided with your warrior world did I start to understand that I’d built walls, just like yours, to hold the pain of the world at bay.

“I never got close to anyone because it hurt too much to leave people behind and to go through the pain of starting over. Now here I am and when you were asleep in that strange place, I awoke trapped but I found my way out by realizing that if I was going to have any hope of living and of getting us both out of there, I would have to find some way of reaching out for help.

“That’s when it dawned on me that I might be able to reach Endelle with my voyeur’s window because she has a window as well. When it worked, when I contacted her, I was so not surprised. Our waging an effective war will only work if we join forces.

“After we brought Fiona and the rest of the blood slaves home, I’d been so puffed up in my new abilities that I’d missed the whole point—we’d brought them home as a unit.” She kissed him. “Do you see? My independence had become an excuse not to get close to anyone. That was why I fell for Rith’s deception—it never occurred to me to question what I was looking at, or to seek counsel from anyone else, or to even contact you mind-to-mind. It was just me, acting alone.”

She relaxed against him. “Now I’m here. With you. And there’s nowhere else I want to be.”

He put his hand on the back of her neck. “You still want to be a Militia Warrior?”

She shook her head. “Truth? I don’t know. I don’t know if it’s the right path for me or not.” Then she smiled. “I think I need to seek counsel on that one, you know, not make the decision all by myself.”

He laughed. He kissed her. “So you think you love me?” The question had just slipped out and his chest seized. What if she didn’t or wasn’t sure? Shit, he should have kept his trap shut.

But she stroked his cheek. “Oh, God. I’m sooo in love with you. I’m bewitched. If you weren’t a good vampire, I’d say you had enthralled me. I think about you all the time, I crave your body, and when I see you my heart aches. How is that even possible? Antony, I love you.”

Relief was another dam breaking and spilling. But he pressed on: “Will you complete the
breh-hedden
with me?”

She nodded. “Yes. Right here, right now.” She glanced down at her naked breasts and grimaced. “Is that mud?”

“Yes.” He laughed. “We made mud.”

“Why don’t we fire up the shower again and take care of business.”

Shivers rained down his body and his cock responded, hardening, twitching, seeking.

“Sage,” she murmured. She groaned and fell on him, kissing him as she once more forced her tongue into his mouth.

Her hips were connected low, just in the right place. If he shifted just a little, moved her up then down, he could impale her on him. If the tangerine scent flooding the room meant what it always had before, she’d be ready for him.