Elijah (10 page)

How had she ended up in his arms? Why had he even pursued her? True, they had never personally battled each other, but they were the harshest representatives of their people, who had done so for centuries. The idea of kissing, of wanting such a man in any way?

What in the nine hells had gotten into her? Into him?

And why couldn’t she erase the feel of him from not only the front of her mind, but the entirety of her body, both inside and out? Her skin was humming even now. Also, she could feel something else, a depth in her body and in her thoughts she had never known existed. She now could name this hollow, clawing sensation for the hunger of desire that it was. Had she not been
Page 31

paying attention to her own thoughts? It was utter insanity to go on feeling such a thing for even one second more! She should be shamed that she had allowed him such intimacies with her body, not continue to crave them.

The Queen rose to her feet, no longer able to sit still. She absently rubbed a palm over her flat stomach as she began to pace the width of the room. She felt as if he had somehow embedded his presence into her, staining her permanently. They had not mated, so why then did she feel as if his very essence was already swimming inside her womb? She was confused, taunted by his scent on her body, struggling with both the human and feline memories of the past days in his presence.

In spite of herself, she was impressed by the way he had handled the cat in its frightened state.

She was aware of it now, now that she had changed back, but in those minutes she had been nothing but the puma, more likely to snap his neck in two than anything else. By all rights, she should have been so threatened by him as to gut him on the spot. But instead, the cat had run away. Hidden. Just as the lions in the wilds would do when threatened by anything they deemed more powerful than themselves.

But then to approach him once more and use such a low-aggression mode of punishment for frightening her into the change?

Siena loped up the stairs as her emotions threatened to overwhelm her, hurrying as far from him as she could without exiting the cave. However, it was no better for her in that place near the pool. The room reeked of pheromones and the scent of sexual arousal. Hers and his. It seemed no matter where she turned, she could not escape him. And the sunlight streaming through the trees outside prevented her from bolting into the comfort of the forest.

The Queen bit back a sob, twisting her hands together violently and biting down hard on her bottom lip. She would not do this weak, feminine thing called tears. She had never once cried in all of her life and she would be thrice damned before she would do so over a Demon male. Still, she could not escape the feelings of confinement that rushed through her, the rampant emotions, the confusion of thoughts that seemed permanently tainted with impressions of his.

Siena suddenly, blindly, leapt for the entrance to the cave. She was barely six yards into the sun before Elijah’s arm hooked around her waist and hauled her back against his rigid body. She screamed, kicking and struggling against his hold. She would have made it impossible for him to hold her if not for the quick effect of the sun on her physiology.

The light bored into her with astounding speed. In that moment she was susceptible to it in a way she had never experienced before. Had even this changed about her? she wondered with despair as he swung her up into his arms and strode back into their shelter. By the time she was safely shielded, she was already quite nauseated from her exposure. He took her straight back to the bedroom and laid her in the bed, pressing a cool hand to her burning face.

“Are you insane?” he asked softly, the phrase void of the reproach it should have held. It was the brimming concern that was in the question and in his touch that finally broke her. She sobbed once, hard, and then burst into full-blown tears.

Shamed, she tried to turn her face away, but he cupped her cheek in his palm and prevented her from doing so. Elijah, the ruthless Demon warrior, then proceeded to catch each and every tear with his calloused fingers, hushing her softly under his breath, reaching to take her hand in his.

“Siena, please,” he begged softly, his fingers moving faster from one cheek to the other to catch the saltwater misery. “I am so sorry. More sorry than you will ever know. I did not mean to hurt you like this. Please, kitten, you are killing me. Please, stop.”

But the gentler he was, the more it seemed to hurt. And she had no idea why. After a moment he gave up on keeping her tears out of her hair and, with a strong tug on her captive hand, he drew her up into a comforting embrace. He pressed his hand to the back of her head, holding her face in the curve of his neck, her cheek pillowed on one broad shoulder. She felt his hand move over her back, rubbing gently, soothingly, in one direction only.

How did he know that it would be the most comforting way to touch her? Like a cat who could
Page 32

only bear its fur being stroked in a single direction, she was filled with a powerful sense of comfort and relaxation. She felt the change flushing through her as he petted her so perfectly.

“Siena, listen to me,” he said softly. “You are done here. Your duty to my King is done. Come dark, I will leave this place and return home. You will not see me again. I swear to you…”

“No. You are not yet well enough,” she protested, pulling back to look directly in his eyes. “I committed myself to your care and I will see it through. I…I am just…” Siena shook her head, unable to find words as she pushed away the last remnants of her weak tears.

“You have to realize what’s behind all of this,” he urged her quietly, touching fingers to her chin to lift up her eyes. “Samhain is only a week away. Your species is as afflicted by it as mine is.

Demons are cursed by the moon of this month to desire nothing more than to mate, however misdirected it may be, with any beautiful humanoid that catches their eye.”

Elijah took a deep breath, looking away from her golden eyes and the liquid lure within them that still tempted him. As much as he was forcing himself to believe his own explanation, he couldn’t escape the haunting feeling in the center of his gut that whispered with sinister amusement that there was far more to it than that.

“Yes,” Siena agreed, latching on to the explanation with gratitude. “Yes, you are right. I had forgotten about how it affects your kind. The effect is not the same for my people. Not exactly.

But our animal sides become very dominant during this time. Instincts such as mating are so overwhelming that…that they disrupt normal good judgment.”

“Then you understand that, if I don’t leave, this will potentially happen again?” he asked.

“Perhaps. Perhaps not now that we are aware of it. Regardless of this…this trouble, you cannot leave. I know enough about Demons to know that you cannot shift form while you are this badly injured without risking your life. I will not have you ruining all my hard-won efforts to mend you.”

Feeling relieved and exhausted all at once, Siena rested back into the pillows of the bed, ignoring the urge to rub her cheek over the pillow so heavily scented with him.

Elijah could see she was ill, despite the fact that she was still trying to act like his nurse. Her dash into the bright fall sun, none of it blocked by the bared branches of the autumn trees, had done significant damage. The Lycanthropes called it sun poisoning. He had seen it up close before, and the effects were unmistakable. She was pale, her skin faded from its usual golden luster, and her usually springy hair hung limply around her.

“You’re bleeding again,” she murmured, reaching to touch the bandage over his chest wound.

“The water disturbed the bandage’s seal.”

“It will dry. Don’t worry about it.” Elijah reached to take her hand from him but found he was unable to release it once he had it in his palm again.

He forced himself to let her go by standing up and walking out of the room. He returned shortly with a cup of water, but she had fallen asleep during the time it had taken. He sat back down on the opposite side of the mattress, exhaling long and slow. He turned the cup around in his hands, an idle occupation as he tried to settle his thoughts.

Siena might not know it, but Elijah had broken several laws the moment he had laid hands on her. Demon law was very specific about such things. Frankly, he was amazed the Enforcer wasn’t already descended upon him, determined to see him punished as he ought to be. It would be just his luck that the one time he needed such intervention, Jacob was busy with his wife and newborn.

Elijah’s entire body ached. And, he realized, it wasn’t all from the pain of his healing wounds.

Somehow, she had gotten under his skin, this hauntingly beautiful creature. He would be lying to himself if he tried to convince himself it was all about physicality. There was something in her spirit, in her manner, that beckoned to him. It had been doing so since the day they had met six months back.

He had never believed Gideon’s plan to imprison himself in the Lycanthrope court would come to anything but the medic’s swift demise. But the results had surprised him, even as he continued
Page 33

to mistrust them. Even after the Queen had declared an end to the war, he had walked around waiting for the other shoe to drop. The shoe that would kick them back into war just when they were beginning to relax. However, since he had met her, he’d known she was unlike any changeling he’d ever encountered before. He had even begun to feel more confident in this peace she had so artfully finagled out of her aggressive people.

Exhausted, Elijah set the cup aside and dropped back onto the pillow beside the one the Queen rested on. He turned his head to look at her. All he saw was the delicate fronds of gold lashes against her paled cheeks. For some reason he fixated on that elegant detail, finding himself curious over how fragile they seemed. As if they could break under the slightest touch. He had never thought to equate her with anything delicate or breakable. She was a woman of formidable strength, and he would be a fool to think of her in any other manner. But there was an underlying innocence within her.

It had nothing to do with the fact that he was aware she had never taken a lover. He knew the condition that came with that, and knew that was why she had been so terrified of what had almost happened between them. But it was something deeper than just the physically virgin state of her body.

Perhaps at some point he would understand what it was he thought he sensed, but it was likely never going to happen. Once they parted from this place, the only time they would ever see each other would be during functions at Noah’s court that would include her. If he had anything to say about it, they would not meet even then. He was determined to keep his distance from that moment on. He was a warrior, trained in the utmost forms of discipline, and he could easily do this.

Elijah’s eyes drifted closed, making him more aware of the confection of her scent. What was most compelling about it, he thought as he drifted into sleep, was that it blended so well with his own.

Noah pushed away one of the dusty tomes that had come from the great Demon library, an archive of their vast history and prophecies located in the dungeons of his castle home. There were three of the enormous books awaiting his attention, but he ignored them and began to pace the floor of the Great Hall in a sign of agitation he had found himself repeating far too often these past two days.

To say he was worried would have been an understatement. In spite of the fact that the Captain of his armies had gone missing, uncharacteristically without a single word to anyone as to where he would be, he should know Elijah well enough after all these centuries to realize the warrior was quite capable of taking care of himself. But these were volatile times. Enemies and prophecies, Druids being rediscovered and hybrid children born with potentially new and powerful abilities. Men and women suddenly Imprinting on one another with a frequency their race had not enjoyed for over a thousand years, if indeed they had ever enjoyed it at all.

This was why he was researching tomes of knowledge, history, and prophecy that had the dust of the ages on them. Some of them had not been opened in over a millennium, hiding secrets and thoughts that not even Gideon, a millennium old himself, knew about. He was hoping that within them he would find clarity in all of the chaos of the time. However, the archaic nature of the ancient Demon language made the going slow and difficult.

The best scholar for this task would be Isabella, the female Enforcer. However, despite the fact that Isabella’s Druidic powers included the ability to easily translate the Demon language in all its forms through the ages, it simply was not possible for a new mother to devote herself to such an intensive study so soon after giving birth.

Scholars like the King were seeking the answers for problems in the present in the works and prophecies of the past. Destiny meant a great deal to Demonkind, both individually and as a society. It was very much like a religious experience for them, to follow the purest path to their destinies, watching prophecies become truth in the present, forming into wondrous history.

Page 34

It was this that had made Ruth and Mary’s betrayal of their people so hard to grasp early on. It was practically unheard of. Noah realized, however, that the female traitors bent on causing heartache and mayhem thought, in their warped perception, that their paths were just as destined as anyone else’s. And, Noah supposed, there was probably truth in that. Not every path was destined to be one of moral good and soulful clarity. If that were the case, there would be no wars, no violence.

In the minds of these traitors, these acts of vengeance against their own brethren were justified, even righteous. The siege last May, just before Beltane, had been a brutal act of retribution aimed at Jacob the Enforcer at first, but then had spread like a virulent poison to include all of Demonkind. Since then, Demons had suffered under the hands of these turncoats repeatedly, victims of damaging guerilla tactics with little or no reason to them. If the past six months gave them anything to be aware of, it was that enemies were all around—some closer than they would have ever expected.