Demon's Triad (14 page)

Her legs shook as she grabbed her bag and stood up. Back to work. She wasn’t going to find any answers sitting here, scaring herself half to death. She’d taken on murderers, rapists and even a serial killer last spring. If she was being haunted, she wouldn’t let it frighten her into fucking up this case. She’d listen to the spirit if that was indeed what it was, but the conclusion she came to would be based on cold, hard fact, not the whisperings of a tortured soul in her ear. And not from two men who were too close to the investigation to be trusted.

Dorand and Ferrin might have been attempting to contact their lover’s soul to find out the identity of her killer. Or they might have been trying to banish her soul from this earthly plane so that no one else could do the same. The whisper she’d heard at the lodge had insisted one of the men was responsible. She didn’t want to believe that it told the truth, but she didn’t know either of them well enough to exonerate them as suspects. She would do well to remember that, no matter how they affected her body.

Goddess, her body, just the word brought to mind visions of Dorand sliding inside her, Ferrin pulling her hair. Gritting her teeth, she forced the thoughts away.

Lymera Brown was found in the opposite direction from Rimer, and Aleeza left the lake and its ghosts behind as she headed for that scene. The positions of the bodies made a loose circle, with each victim found at one of the four directions. Rimer was east, Carantha south, Lymera west. It gave her a rough idea where she might expect to find the next body, but since they still believed the murders had taken place elsewhere and the bodies brought here after death or close to death, that wasn’t as helpful as it seemed.

That’s good, Aleeza. Focus. Think of the murders. The throbbing between her legs slowed. Think of the very real possibility that this desire you feel is simply a combination of years of celibacy and the sex memories of a murder victim. The throbbing almost disappeared.

Only to come roaring back when she saw the bare back of a man walking through the woods ahead of her. It was Dorand—she knew it instantly before her eyes even focused. What was he doing here, moving silently as a shadow through the trees?

She ducked behind a tree, certain her feet moving through the leaves sounded an alarm, but she could not hear it over the roaring in her ears. Just seeing him brought it all back, the musky clean scent of him, the feel of his hands on her body, his magnificent cock stretching her, filling her with such perfect pleasure…

Her bag fell to the ground with a thud, its sides hanging open. Aleeza gripped the tree behind her, digging her nails into the rough bark in a vain attempt to keep from unbuttoning her jeans and pulling down the zipper. Her pussy demanded satisfaction but it was a satisfaction she was afraid to give. What if she called him, asked him to 71

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come here? He would hear her—she knew he would, especially with the forest so quiet today.

She knew he would come. Knew he would be only too ready to remove his clothing too and make her scream and cry with delight.

But she couldn’t let him. Maybe later, but not now, not when her mind was still full of horrors and her heart still pounding with panic. If she’d somehow managed to collect the memories and feelings of his dead love, then these feelings weren’t real. Even if that wasn’t the case, how could she keep sleeping with a man, or men, she considered suspects?

A better question was, how in the world would she be able to resist?

Her panties were so wet she was certain her jeans would soon be soaking as well and the musky scent of her desire would be plain to anyone. She might have a spare pair in her bag. She could quickly slip off her jeans and panties and put on a fresh pair—without touching herself in any way—and no one would be the wiser. Perhaps the mundane act of getting dressed would pull her out of this pit of lust.

She bent her knees and slid down the tree, the rough bark scratching her back as it lifted her shirt. The movement brought the inner seam of her jeans into contact with her desperate flesh and she bit her lip to keep from crying out. This couldn’t be normal, could it? To want someone this badly, so badly that you fell apart in the woods and couldn’t even think?

Aleeza fumbled in the bag with her right hand, digging amongst the jumble of weapons and files and various packaged snack foods, looking for her spare panties. Her fingers felt silk and she grabbed at it, only to close her fist over not just the panties but something else as well. Something hard and smooth and cylindrical.

Her leather billy club.

No, no, no!
Something deep inside her howled, but at the touch of the black leather Aleeza’s pussy screamed louder. As if in a dream, she picked the weapon up and inspected it.

It was about a foot long, the tip slightly bulbous, with deep ridges running all the way down its length. About an inch and a half wide, it was heavy and solid in her hand.

She’d rarely needed it but bought it because she liked the look of it. It could be useful for intimidation purposes if her perp wasn’t properly intimidated by imagining what a little Gunera magic might do to him if he didn’t obey orders. It was dangerous and strong, even sexy in a way she’d never analyzed before.

No!

YES!
The voice screamed through her head, overpowering her will to resist, sweeping her under like a black wave.

Her fingers tore at her jeans, yanking them and her panties down to puddle at her feet. Her own scent assaulted her, made her moan involuntarily as she slipped her fingers over her mound and down to touch her burning clit. That light touch was almost enough to send her flying.

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Crouching down with her back against the tree, she spread her legs wider, wide enough to make her slick thighs tremble. She was so wet, so hot, her fingers sliding easily over her sensitive flesh.

Holding the billy in her right hand, Aleeza spread her lips with her left and butted the blunt, slightly rough leather tip against her opening, then pulled it away. The leather was already soaked, shiny in the dim light from the overcast sky.

Experimentally she brought it to her lips, let her tongue play over the top, tasting her arousal on the thick, hard tip. She shuddered, then slid the wet leather up the inside of her thigh and drove it into her tight channel.

Her eyes closed, shutting out the dull greens and browns of the trees in front of her.

She could not focus on them, could not focus on anything but the ridged thickness of the club as it rubbed against her walls, making her nerves sing and her body tighten.

She was almost ready to come after just that one thrust, her legs trembling as she dug her heels into the soft dirt and pushed her back more firmly against the tree.

The club wasn’t as big around as Dorand’s cock or Ferrin’s, but the ridges more than made up for it as she pulled it back out and thrust it in again, soft moans escaping her lips. Faster she moved and faster, rubbing her clit with the fingertips of her left hand.

The wind around her blew harder as she fucked herself with the club, her hands dripping wet, the leather hot and pliable now. Her muscles ached from tension and the need for release, a release she instinctively knew would not be enough but that she urged herself toward anyway. Later she would try to understand why this raging need had overtaken her here. For now she only wanted to feel the club’s rings stimulate her nerves, to tighten her inner walls and grip it, forcing more friction between her skin and the black club working inside her.

It wasn’t enough. But it would do for now.

* * * * *

Dorand headed up the hill, his arms aching. Rot had set into a few of the oaks, and as much as it pained him, the trees needed to be destroyed. Using the chainsaw made the process shorter but still required enough strength to tire him out.

Drying sweat made his chest and back itch as he took off his t-shirt and used it to wipe his face. He didn’t particularly enjoy swimming in Potter Lake—once his favorite spot—after the body of Rimer Lorcan was found there months ago, but it wasn’t far, and he was desperate for a dip to rinse the sawdust and dirt from his skin. Besides, it might be the last swim of the season. The nights were getting colder and soon the water would be too cold to tolerate, even for a man who enjoyed feeling his extremities numb.

Focusing on how good the cold, clear water would feel and not on what had once rested there, he reached the top of the hill and turned. To get to the lake he had to go in a half-circle around it, avoiding the clump of poison ivy growing in his path. The 73

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increasingly cool nights and the coming of winter frost would take care of it soon enough. Right now he just wanted to clean off before heading home for a real shower.

A sound in the trees now behind him made him stop. The rustling of leaves, like someone was walking past. A soft thud. His skin crawled. Potter Lake hadn’t been eerie before. Now it was, the energy there as responsible for his aversion as the memory of Rimer’s lifeless form floating in the water. It was almost as if the air around the lake was thicker, ripe with a potential for evil that was never there before.

Isn’t there enough to be worried about without spooking yourself, man?

Dorand shook off the feeling and started walking again. Cato had cleansed the area himself, burned the smudge stick and banished the black magic. He was the most powerful witch Dorand had ever known. If his spells weren’t good enough, nothing would be.

Another sound, the soft cry of a woman. Aleeza.

He knew it was her as surely as he knew his own name or where he kept the glasses in his small kitchen at home.

He turned and headed for her, moving as quickly as he dared while still being silent. If someone was hurting her, he wanted the element of surprise in his favor. His fists clenched. If someone was hurting her, he would kill them.

I won’t let it happen again. Not like with Carantha.

He knew it wasn’t his fault, the death of his mate. He hadn’t been there—neither of them had. The impending wedding of one of their friends had taken both men into the city that night. The other covens might think them hopelessly old fashioned, but even the Amiantos had bachelor parties. They’d stayed out late, drinking a little too much beer and having two o’clock breakfast at the Waffle Shoppe. When they got back, she was gone.

He and Ferrin took turns reminding each other it wasn’t their fault. Nobody knew what Rimer’s death had started in these woods. Everyone assumed it was personal, a vendetta, a revenge killing. If they’d known, they never would have left Carantha alone the night before Beltaine.

Hell, they never would have left her alone, period. She was a part of them, a sacred part that deserved to be protected at all costs.

When he’d started thinking of Aleeza in the same way he thought of Carantha, when she’d become so important, he had no idea. It bothered him a little, but there was no time to think about it now. Another sound, louder than the first, came through the trees, and Dorand swung around in that direction.

He’d been right. The voice was Aleeza’s.

He’d also been wrong. She wasn’t in danger.

Unless she really was turning into an ecstasy addict, which was entirely possible.

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standing there, dry-mouthed, with a cock that instantly sprang to attention as he watched her masturbating against a tree.

Her top was still on, her jeans and panties still hugging her calves. It was as if she couldn’t wait to get whatever that object was inside her. She had a cabin—it wasn’t even that far away. Couldn’t she wait fifteen minutes to get there before scratching her itch?

Even as he watched, her back arched, her hips pumping forward as her face contorted. She was coming, her hard nipples poking against the fabric of her shirt, her thighs trembling. Dorand ducked back, hoping the sounds of his movement would be hidden by the wild cries escaping her throat. He would give her time to collect herself, to get her clothes back on…his cock throbbed at the very idea of letting her go. She was ready, she was naked…he could probably have her on her back and begging within seconds.

The idea was so tantalizing it made him dizzy. When had he started missing her, wanting her so badly?

Gritting his teeth, he leaned over to steal a look at her, hoping she would be dressed. She wasn’t. Instead she was running the soaking wet tip of whatever she’d been using—it looked like a club of some kind, it was too thin to be a dildo—over her now-exposed nipples as she held her shirt out of the way. The sight took his breath away. Never had any woman looked so erotic to him, so overtly sexual and just the slightest bit…dirty. Her eyes were closed. The tip of her delicate tongue protruded from between her lips as she focused herself so fully, so completely, on the sensations coursing through her body.

She was Gunera. She was experiencing those feelings for the first time in her life…but this still wasn’t normal, couldn’t be normal.

She slid the club back down her stomach, back between her legs. He watched as she slipped it between them, rubbing the ridged implement over her clit, pulling it back and forth while she rode over it with small, smooth movements of her hips. She was going to do it again. Her skin was flushed, her mouth open now as she gasped for air. He took a deep breath and focused on her. Something was wrong, something was missing, but he couldn’t for the life of him—

Wait a minute. It was her aura. It wasn’t right. He’d seen her aroused before. Hell, he’d been with her. He’d fucked her and tasted her power on his lips while he did. She should be glowing blue, that bright hard blue that made her look like an angel. Instead, all he saw was a faint tinge of turquoise hovering in the air by her now rapidly moving hands.

No longer caring if it upset her, he stepped out of his hiding place and covered the distance between them in a few seconds. He smelled her arousal in the air, the heady, musky scent of her need. It filled his nostrils, his head, and he had to fight to keep coherent thoughts.