JARHARIS (3 page)

“Give it up.”

“Why do you fear my knife?”

“Perhaps it is not the knife I fear, but the woman who plans to use it against me.”

She relaxed against the bed suddenly, surprising him again. He pulled the boot from her foot and threw it across the room. The silver dagger flew out of the cuff and landed against the wall, clanging loudly. Without further conversation, he rid her of her other boot, tossing it across the room as well.

Completely naked, she lay beneath his body, her eyes watching him as though she couldn’t believe what was happening between them.

He splayed his fingers and caressed her breast, lifting the heavy mound in his palm. He dipped his head and licked her nipple. Watching her face as he wet her skin, he felt her compliance with his desire to touch her. “Have you known a man before?”

A short laugh leapt from her mouth. “Does the sun come up in the morning?”

He sighed, slightly annoyed with her reaction to his inquiry. He skimmed his hand across her waist and onto her abdomen. “I assume you have known at least one man then.”

“Assume anything you want.”

He lowered his hand, sliding it between her legs. Splaying his fingers, he reveled in the feel of her bushy crotch. Her body was hot against his palm. His lust rose as anticipation grew inside him. He inched his fingers lower, separating her hair-roughened pussy lips and sliding his index finger amid her hot folds.

She groaned and arched her back. “Don’t pretend you’re trying to pleasure me.”

He brought his gaze up to her face. “You are very beautiful.” He lowered his head and claimed her mouth as his finger found her clitoris and stroked it rhythmically.

 
She groaned and returned his kiss then wrenched her mouth away, turning her head. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Your body sexually arouses me.” He pulled his hand from her crotch and grasped his cock. He positioned its hot head at her slit. He pressed his prick against her opening, but he didn’t enter her cave. “I don’t usually ask a wench’s permission to rut—”

She jerked her head around, staring at him through the near darkness.
“Wench?
Rut?
What kind of language are you speaking? For Pete’s sake! This isn’t the middle ages.”

He pushed inside her suddenly, realizing his continued attempt to gain her permission was only arousing her curiosity about him—and her doubts. He gripped her buttocks in either hand and rammed his long hard cock in to the hilt, listening to her attempt to catch her breath.

He savored the warmth encasing his cock. For a moment he closed his eyes and enjoyed every thrust as his cock slid in deep, paused a second while he ground his crotch against her slit then pulled back, only to ram back inside her silken passage.

His orgasm came much too soon. The muscles in his buttocks knotted as he felt the first tingles ripping through his insides. He groaned and stiffened his legs as the sensations grew in intensity. Thrust, thrust, thrust! The climax raced full bloom through his body, bringing a loud bellow from his throat.

Memories of sexual conquests flitted through his mind as he released the pent-up emotions he had kept contained for so long. His hot semen gushed inside her warm body, releasing the torrent of sensations that spiraled throughout his limbs. He opened his mouth and panted, arched his back as he
lunged
his cock as deeply inside her core as he could.

Heaven should be so sweet.
For an instant the thought assailed his mind. There was little chance that he would ever see heaven. He almost laughed. He was destined to live in hell for eternity—but right at that moment—he knew he was as close to heavenly bliss as he would ever come.

He didn’t want to pull out, to separate his body from hers. He wanted to remain there forever, his prick inside her cavern, their bodies linked in an inevitable wave of sexual orgasm. He moved his hips slowly, anticipating another bout of sex play, when she raised her hands and pushed at his chest.

“I don’t suppose you thought about using a condom?”

He opened his eyes and stared down at her.
What did she say?

“Get off me!”

He moved without thinking, rolling to his side then onto his back. His chest heaved with panting breaths. His legs felt as though he had run ten miles. He smiled at the comparisons. There was little to compare his body to that of a mortal—yet the sexual experience with the blonde woman had all but brought back explicit memories of times long past. He stifled the urge to speak of such times—aware that she was trying to get up from the bed. Suddenly he realized it would be best if he took his leave.

He rose from the bed, pulling the woman back down to the mattress. “Stay in bed and sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

“Now I suppose you’re going to tell me you’re a doctor.”

The acid in her tone was all too prevalent. He winced at the infraction. He rose and pulled on his clothes, though a mere thought would have dressed him in less time and with far less effort.

It’s best not to call more attention to myself.
He crossed the room to the window and ordered it open with a wave of his hand. With a quick summons of the magic, he
shapeshifted
into a bird and flew out into the dark night.

CHAPTER THREE

The darkness was broken only by the glow of lights shining here and there.
Jarharis
flew toward the heart of the city as he pushed thoughts of the blonde woman named Selena from his mind. He should never have pursued her as he had. He turned his thoughts to learning about his surroundings, finding a safe place to spend the daylight hours and establishing himself—whether he chose to be known by some or a few—he needed an identity.

He wondered if he should even bother. Perhaps come tomorrow, he would learn
Brooklyn
was not the place for him. His mind retuned to thoughts of the blonde woman. Her body was so tantalizing, so intriguing.

I’m weak.
With the next breath he rebuked himself for such an admission. His weakness, perhaps, comes only with the allure of a female body. He felt pensive suddenly as he soared silently on a wind current high above the lights of the city. He had never been in love—indeed his existence as a mortal man had ended when he was barely thirty years of age. Still he was not immune to the wiles of a fetching wench.

He remembered suddenly how the blonde woman had mocked his choice of words. He gazed at the lights beneath his feathered body and mentally noted that he must learn the language of the time so that he did not call undue attention to himself in the future.

He sought a place to perch, examining the rooftops as he had previously. He needed a perch high above the place where people traversed where he could sit and observe their comings and goings. He chose a tall steeple atop a massive building, a church, perhaps, or a cathedral. He pinned his sharp gaze on the broad avenues below his perch. They were deserted. Not a creature—or man—stirred either on the narrow winding lane like the one he had seen the blonde woman and her companions traversing, or the wider strip that winded through the buildings. He turned his gaze upward, surveying the sky. Stars gleamed out of the blackness. A full moon hung aloft as if suspended on an invisible string. A sorrowful emptiness engulfed him and he forced his mind to return to the matter at hand.

Perhaps he should resume his immortal state and stroll along the walkway in search of other beings. He leapt from his perch and settled within the shadow of the towering building, shapeshifting in the blink of an eye. He stepped out of the darkness and scanned the street in either direction. He sighed, feeling as though he were alone in the world.

He began walking, his mind consumed with thoughts of his new life. He pushed his hands inside his trouser pockets and strode across the street into the illumination of a tall lamppost. He leaned one shoulder against the sturdy post and tried to reason how he would survive in the time he had arrived in. Everything was foreign.
The people.
Their ways.
The language.

He smiled suddenly and shook his head. The blonde woman had certainly made him feel as though he were a stranger.
If she only knew.

His brows drew together. He could just imagine her telling her friends—perhaps the male companions he had seen her with tonight—how she had flown through the air in a stranger’s arms. The group’s talk of vampires would be intensified, certain to stir the minds of all who listened.

He pulled one hand from his pocket suddenly, having discovered the object he had been toying with while he thought about his situation. The witch’s amulet gleamed yellow gold in the light from the street lamp. He turned it over in his palm, studying its many facets while he watched the light play across its surface. Its long gold linked chain lay upon his fingers and dangled across his wrist.

What good is this stone?
His thoughts returned to the instant he had taken it from the neck of the
Morganford
witch. It had landed easily into his palm—as though he was meant to take it from its owner. He closed his hand around the stone, squeezing his fingers against the angled surface. Perhaps he should have asked the witch who brought him to this time about the amulet. He sighed. He couldn’t search her out just to appease his curiosity.

He pushed his tall frame from the support of the lamppost and began walking down the street, the amulet grasped tightly in one hand. An idea was taking root in his mind. Perhaps he could sell the stone for enough funds to establish himself. The idea had merit. But could he make such arrangement in the night? Would there be any dealers willing to speak with him after hours?

A movement further along the sidewalk drew his attention. He paused and listened, his hearing keen. Sounds of footsteps came to him then the unmistakable sounds of an animal. He watched the shadows as a man and a small dog appeared, the dog walking slightly in front of the man.

“Now hurry up and take a whiz, Buffy. It’s late and we shouldn’t be out at this hour.”

Jarharis
smiled and stepped into the shadows of a nearby building, awaiting the passing of the man and his companion. His fingers toyed with the amulet nestled inside his pocket.

Perhaps if he wished himself back to his time and held on tightly to the amulet, he would be transported forthwith. The notion struck him as funny. He chuckled. But the humor failed to lift his spirits.

What do you want most,
Jarharis
?

Jarharis
jerked his head around, certain that the man walking his pet had spoken to him. He surveyed the street where he had spied the man. There was no sign of the man or his little dog.

Speak your needs.

Jarharis
closed his eyes then opened them, certain that he was imagining the voice that had spoken to him twice now. He could detect no one in his midst. He snarled.
Agitated that he was, perhaps, being the butt of a joke.
He stepped from the darkness leant by the building and walked along the sidewalk. The area was quiet, void of persons. He clutched the amulet in his fist and searched the sky for direction.

Which way to the cemetery where I encountered the blonde woman and her male companion?
He should secure a place to rest since the sky would soon turn to light. He turned his feet in one direction then the other, uncertain which way to go.

“Blast!” He raised one fist and railed at the night. He hated the curse that gripped him. And he hated the weakness he was displaying at the moment. He cursed beneath his breath. He was the eldest of the Sutherland males. The brother the others looked up to.

He sighed and shook his head. Things were different now. He had been brought ahead in time—given a new era to exist in. Remorse welled up inside him. He was sounding like a total fool. He had been given a chance to start over—and he was mulling around like a dolt.

He pulled in a deep breath and squared his shoulders. Memory of rutting with the blonde woman came to mind. He hadn’t been feeling sorry for himself while he was between her legs. He tried to recall the feel of her warm body beneath his, the way his cock felt when he first slid it inside her cavern. He was a man with sexual urges and he had fulfilled his lust with the woman. If he had felt remorseful while he was with her—she would have crucified him.

He shook his head. If only he had a direction to follow. He combed one hand through his hair. His first night in 2007 was proving to be less than productive—if you didn’t count the sexual episode with the blonde woman.

What was her name?
“Selena.”
Her name rolled off his tongue with a familiar ease. A smile pulled at one corner of his mouth. Suddenly he realized why he was feeling sorry for himself. He had the foolish idea that he would never see her again.

“Not true.” He muttered beneath his breath. Deciding he had to take matters into his own hands, he pulled the amulet from his pocket. He would find a buyer for the stone and spend the money to establish his new life—then, he would return to the blonde woman and…and…

Jarharis
, state your needs.

He glanced around at the sound. His eyes darted toward the buildings along the street, across the way and into the darkness overhead. Could he be imaging things? He snarled. Suddenly he realized the stone he clutched was burning his hand. He raised his fist and gazed at the amber glow emanating from between his fingers. Aghast, he opened his fingers. The jewel lay on his palm, its surface lit with fire. His brows furrowed. Uncertainty welled up inside him. He stared at the amulet, waiting.

Jarharis
, state your needs.