Authors: Mia Marshall
“That’s not fair!” I didn’t remember rushing toward him, but suddenly I was close enough to shove him.
As usual, he didn’t budge.
“I tried,” I reminded him. “We were interrupted. Don’t put this all on me.”
“You could have tried harder!”
“So could you!”
“If we tried harder, you would have lost control!” Mac screamed in my face.
We glared daggers at each other, only inches apart. Our breath met, heavy and ragged.
We recognized the absurdity of the fight at the same moment. He gave a rueful laugh, shaking his head, and I suppressed an inappropriate attack of the giggles.
“Good thing we didn’t lose control, huh?”
Mac ran a hand through his hair. “That was… not good, was it?”
“We’ve had better moments.” I slid down the trunk of the nearest palm tree until I sat on the ground. With an oath, Mac dropped to my side. We gazed at each other, trying to find our way back.
I slid my hand into his, needing his skin against mine. “I’m not hot for Luke. Never have been.”
“I know. I was being an asshole.”
“It was going around.” I squeezed his hand. “Maybe we could manage it. We have a few hours before dawn. If we went slow, it’s possible I could handle it. And it’s not like I’d be feeling any rage. If I don’t lose myself completely, it could work.”
Mac ran his eyes down my body, considering. In the end, he shook his head, though not without regret. “Aidan, I’ve imagined you in my bed since the day I met you. And on my table, and in the rear of the Bronco, and against a wall. Pretty much everywhere I’ve ever seen you, I’ve imagined what you would feel like beneath me. I didn’t spend the last several months imagining it to leave you with even a shred of control when the time finally comes.”
If I was lucky, I’d remember to breathe again this century.
He raised my hand to his lips and nipped the knuckle of my first finger. “We don’t know what will happen, and there’s no way we’re taking that big a risk when we’re so close.”
“You’re right. I know you’re right. But…”
“But?” Mac prompted, blowing lightly across the same knuckle.
“There’s a lot of room between nothing and everything.”
“Mmm-hmm?” He turned my palm upwards and sank his teeth into the mound of flesh at the base of my thumb.
I leaned toward him. He’d grown a beard during our weeks on the island. The hair was the same rich brown as his fur. I rubbed my cheek against it, savoring the unfamiliar sensation. I moved my lips to his ear. “And time for a few more memories. A few more things to hold onto.”
Mac took a slow inhale through his nose. “Did you have something in mind?”
In fact, I did. I pushed on his chest. He didn’t resist, falling until he lay flat on his back. “You’re in control,” he said, and closed his eyes.
I knelt at his hip. For a while, I simply looked at him. My eyes roamed his entire body. Almost every inch was covered in muscle, but he never appeared bulky to me. He was just more. More man. More Mac.
At last, my gaze stopped on his face. Underneath the new beard, the wide cheekbones were still visible. I pressed the fingers of both hands to the bones, then ran my index fingers across them, following the circle of the bone to his brow, relearning all the contours of his face. I traced his hairline, and the ridge of his ears, and then his jaw and chin. I skimmed my fingers over the cords of his neck and the hard line of his clavicle.
Each caress was light, but I felt the heat wherever our skin met. Using only my right hand, I caressed the outside of his arm, feeling each muscle and the sharp bones of his elbows. When I came to his hands, I outlined each finger. They were thick and callused, the nails short. His mouth quirked when I hit the ticklish underside of his arm, but he didn’t move, and I hid my own smile as my hand slid down his torso.
I outlined his waist, hips, and legs, but I paused at the top of his right thigh. Mac tensed and held his breath. I dropped that hand and repeated the study on the left half of his body. Again, I stroked every inch, not only exploring but marking. I coated him with my scent, claiming him. I made sure his entire body knew my touch, and I was patient, allowing him plenty of time to commit each moment to memory. I took as long as we both needed, because we weren’t sure when we’d get another chance.
When I reached the top of the second thigh, I only hesitated for a second before cupping him. He jumped into my hand, hard and ready, and his growl was equal parts satisfaction and hunger.
I moved to the waistband, plucking at the tie. Mac grabbed my wrist, stopping me.
“It’s okay if you lose control,” I reminded him.
His lips curled into a devilish smile. “You’re not getting off that easy.”
That was the only warning I got before I was flat on my back with Mac crouched above me.
“I need to remember more than your touch,” he murmured. “It’s your turn.”
I knew what he planned, but I still wasn’t prepared for the sensation of his fingers and palms tracing my body as thoroughly as I’d traced his. His hands were large and rough, but also gentle. Where his skin brushed against mine, each nerve ending flared to life, electricity sparking through my neck and shoulders, then across my hips and legs. My breasts grew heavy and heat pulsed in my center. Everything else disappeared until I was only aware of Mac and his touch.
When he cupped me between my legs as I had him, my groan was a pathetic, pleading thing. “More,” I insisted.
Mac rested on top of me, giving me as much of his weight as I could handle. I squirmed when I felt his length press against my hip.
“We missed one part,” he said.
“Does it involve removing clothes?”
He laughed, and I felt the vibration through my body. “Not this time.”
He traced my lips with the pad of his index finger, and I did the same to him. When my tongue darted out to taste his skin, he mirrored the action, and when he drew the tip of my finger into his mouth, I pulled on his, sucking it into the warmth of my mouth.
He released a jagged breath and grabbed my wrists, pinning them to the ground. I arched my back in anticipation. Mac wrapped both his lips around my bottom one and tugged, then did the same for the top lip. Only after he’d explored them thoroughly did he deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue to meet mine.
It was slow and languorous. We couldn’t go further, but neither of us wanted the night to end, so we stayed like that for a long time. We tried to pull the other into ourselves, to share each other’s essence as we already shared magic.
At last, he rolled onto his side, pulling me with him, and with our arms and legs intertwined we began to drowse. Though he remained hard and I ached to be filled, it didn’t matter. For that moment, what we had was more than enough. It was everything.
CHAPTER 18
T
he camp was stirring to life when Mac and I returned to the tent to change into clean uniforms. While I transferred the tracker to the new clothes, I shared what I’d learned from Vivian.
“They’re trying to help us. I don’t know how, or if they even can, but be ready.”
“Always am, darlin’,” Luke drawled. For once, Mac didn’t glare at him.
I handed the single dart to Sera. “Just in case.”
It was still wrapped in my t-shirt. She tucked it into her waistband, using the drawstring to hold it in place. It made her look a little pregnant.
Together, we headed for breakfast.
We didn’t make it.
Tricia seemed to appear out of nowhere. “Luke and Aidan will come with me.” Her huge smile didn’t reach her eyes.
“Where are they going?” Sera placed herself between me and the other woman.
Tricia was unprepared for her aggression. “I thought… I was told you expected this.”
Mac tapped Sera’s upper arm. “This is what we wanted.”
I’m not sure any of us believed that, but Sera grudgingly stepped out of the way.
Luke rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. “What the hell. I got away from the other first, and she liked to decorate with skeletons. This one provides cotton underwear and all the papayas you can eat. We’ll be fine.”
People were starting to pay attention. I ignored them. I’d go when I was ready. First, I needed to gaze at Mac a little longer.
“Stop that.” He moved a strand of hair behind my ear.
“What?”
“Stop looking at me like you’re trying to imprint me onto your brain. You’re coming right back.”
I grasped his hand and squeezed once.
I embraced Sera, catching her by surprise. We weren’t exactly big huggers. I lowered my head so I could whisper in her ear. “Give Ani a chance. Maybe she has a reason.”
Sera tensed. I hoped that meant she would consider my request.
I wasn’t ready. I spun around and ran to Mac. I rose on tiptoes, and he met me halfway in a short, fierce kiss.
There was nothing left to say. Luke and I followed Tricia out of camp.
She moved a heavy palm out of the way, revealing a twisting path up the mountain. The trail was well-used. The plants that once grew along it had stopped fighting the steady flow of elemental feet long ago.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
Tricia’s only answer was to gesture at the long, twisting path that led to the top. It wouldn’t take more than ninety minutes, though Tricia carried a large bag. I supposed it was too much to hope that she’d planned a picnic at the end of our hike.
We walked in silence most of the way. As we neared the top, my nerves got the better of me and I needed to break the silence. “Why you?”
Tricia stumbled on her next step, but she sounded cheerful. “Why me what?”
“Why have you been our guide? Why not any of the others? You’re the only one who’s been alone with us.”
“We all have a role to play.” She turned sharply to the left, then doubled back. I was starting to feel like she was leading us toward a cottage made of candy… and Luke and I without any stones to mark our path.
“And your role is what, exactly?” I pressed.
She never slowed down. “I’m the liaison.”
“Between Eila and the rest of camp? But you don’t deliver any messages from her. What the…”
I stopped mid-sentence as we reached the mountain’s peak.
“I believe the phrase you’re looking for, my dear, is ‘what the ever-loving fuck.’” Luke’s tone was as light as ever, but his expression was grim.
We now knew where Tricia was taking us, but the answer to that question raised so many more.
We were surrounded by elementals, all with the traditional coloring. There was a black-haired fire and a blond water, a brown-eyed earth and a beach with those distinctive blue-green eyes. All seven elements were represented, and none were free.
The stone, earth, and beach were strapped to towering koa trees more than a hundred feet above the ground. Thick braided vines wrapped around their bodies from shoulder to ankle. At that height, it would be impossible for them to access their element.
The fire and water were buried under cairns of stones about fifty feet from the trees. The cairns were well designed. They weren’t so heavy as to crush their prisoners, but neither elemental could escape on their own. Fire would heat the stones, but never move them. The water’s cage was sturdier, as she’d have regular access to her element through the humid air and rainstorms.
The ice and desert were almost ignored, their powers weak on a tropical island. Both were simply attached to nearby tree roots with the same braided vines used on the elementals above us. They were equidistant from those above us and those in the cairns, forming the third point of a triangle.
Their bodies were thin, and filthy clothes hung from their bones. Their faces spoke of a struggle long since lost.
Even so, a low thrum of power pulsed across the mountaintop.
“What the hell is wrong with you? What are you doing to them?” I whispered.
Tricia was no longer at my side. She stood by the trees, filling several buckets with items from her bag. Each was attached to a pulley system.
With a sharp tug on the rope, the bucket lurched upwards toward the earth elemental. Whoever had tied the woman had bent one arm at the elbow and placed her hand against her shoulder, allowing her enough wiggle room to stretch that hand into the bucket. Light returned to her dark brown eyes and her skin plumped, the lines around her eyes and mouth vanishing.
Tricia repeated the process, sending up pebbles and sand to the other two. Next, she lit a small fire near the cairn and doused the water with several gallons of her element, then took an insulated lunch sack from her bag and placed it atop the ice’s left foot. She withdrew a large pouch for the desert and draped it over her shin. It molded to her leg, and I assumed it was filled with some imported sand. Neither of them was allowed a free hand.
They were all given about fifteen minutes with their elements. All but the desert fed greedily. She stared at Tricia with heavy eyes filled with hate.
Once they’d refueled, Tricia gave each one a peeled banana. Those in the trees strained to maneuver the fruit to their mouths, but they managed.
Elementals needed at least some solid food to live, and most of them devoured the banana. The desert turned her face away.
“Please eat,” Tricia begged.
The woman spat at her. “I’ll die before I give that thing anything else. Tell her that, you traitor.”
Tricia made no effort to defend herself.
She wasn’t the liaison between the first and the camp residents. She was the liaison between these poor souls and Eila.
Everyone on the island played their part. This was hers. What I didn’t understand was why—why she would be part of such a horror show, and why Eila required it.
“This is bad,” I murmured.
Luke was close enough that I heard him swallow. “Beats a mass grave, right?”
Barely.
“Why are you showing us this?” I made no effort to hide my suspicion. “Why would you do this to them? Why don’t you help them?” The words came out in a rush, demanding she answer each question, ideally at the same time.
“Eila is our god. She requires tribute.” The sentences were delivered in a monotone.
“We’re elementals. We don’t have a freaking god.” I managed to keep my voice low. I had little experience with those who positioned themselves as gods, but I suspected they didn’t like to hear their existence questioned.
“What is a god but the creator, the one from which all else sprung? We are her children as much as Christians believe they were created by their God.” Unlike me, Tricia spoke in a loud, clear voice, like she wanted to be heard.
“Let’s assume you’re right,” I said. “Last I checked, followers of the Christian god had free will and didn’t need to exist in a perpetual state of agony and denial.”
“They feed their god with faith and prayer. We feed ours with magic. She returns the gift in kind. Those who now feed Eila were fed richly by her before they were chosen.”
I studied each elemental. No one’s eyes, not even Tricia’s, shone with any kind of religious fervor. Virgins heading toward the volcano had been more willing sacrifices than these.
They weren’t sacrificing their lives. They were sacrificing their magic. They might recuperate, if given enough access to their element, but that obviously wasn’t happening.
“How long will they be here?” Luke’s voice was strained.
Tricia wouldn’t meet his eyes. “It varies.”
The desert laughed. Her voice was barely a rasp. “Until you’re replaced or you die. Well, you die either way. I’ve been trying to kill myself for a year now.” For the first time, she seemed to notice Luke. Her voice hardened. “But maybe I don’t have to worry about that anymore.”
The water watched me with wide, terrified eyes.
“She does more than feed herself,” Tricia hurried to explain. “Eila shares her power with the rest of us. It’s why she’s able to infuse the island with enough power to keep us safe.”
It was a sickening irony. These poor souls gave Eila the magic she used to feed the island—a magic that established an ongoing sense of complacency. A complacency that prevented the residents from helping the tortured souls above them.
I couldn’t tell how much Tricia believed what she said and how much she wished to believe, but I didn’t care, either.
“How the hell can you be a part of this?” I no longer bothered to be quiet. I half wished Eila were here so I could yell at her. I’d likely die a horrible death, but I’d least I’d go out on a righteous high.
Tricia didn’t avoid the question. She met my eyes, letting me see her shame, and gave me the simplest and most horrible answer. “Because I’m a stronger beach than she is.”
“But why…?” Luke began. He didn’t need to finish. His sharp inhalation told me he’d come to the same conclusion I had.
“Because only the strongest are used as food, aren’t they? If you weren’t useful in another way, you’d be up there instead.”
Tricia didn’t deny it.
“What happens when one is replaced?” I asked. They couldn’t return to camp, not with the stories they’d be able to tell. There was a big difference between deliberate ignorance and seeing the evidence of PTSD each morning at breakfast. That kind of god would be a lot harder to worship.
I studied each sacrifice with new eyes. Many of the residents were powerful, but none were stronger than those before me.
Except for Sera. She was definitely stronger than the fire. Stronger than her mother, as well.
And Luke and I were stronger than any of them.
“Let me guess.” Luke’s ironic drawl was firmly in place, but it overlaid a grit I hadn’t heard before. The hair on the back of my neck rose at the sound. After weeks in his company, I’d almost forgotten how much power he commanded. “The last one replaced was named Eila.”
“They receive the greatest honor. They are given immortality. They become part of the purest magic.” The words were pushed past a tight throat and a quivering lip, and her eyes were wet with unshed tears. I wasn’t sure I had enough kindness left in me for pity.
“You mean she eats them.” The grit in Luke’s voice roughened to gravel.
Elemental magic worked like a generator. It wasn’t a finite source of power. So long as it received fuel, it could run indefinitely. The only reason we died at all was the human blood we possessed. Eila could drink deep from those before me, and they would continue to live if they were given at least some access to their element.
To become part of Eila meant she consumed them. Those who were replaced were treated as batteries rather than generators. One use—one feeding—and their lives ended. It was what the creature in Utah had almost certainly done to the bodies in the pit. It was what she’d tried to do to me.
Luke’s fire rose, and I assumed his desert side was doing the same. Tricia stepped back in a hurry. As a beach, she wouldn’t feel his magic, but only a fool would miss his anger. The sparks flying from his fingertips probably helped.
I lay a hand on Luke’s forearm. I didn’t care what he did to Tricia, but I wouldn’t lose him to this island.
“We need a new plan.” I whispered, so only Luke could hear it. “I think we’re about to be the next course in this macabre meal. Eila doesn’t plan to keep the promises she made.”
“Of course I do.” The voice came from behind me, as light and delicate as a spiderweb. I was pretty sure Luke and I were the flies. “I will stop your madness.”
“You said we would leave the island afterward,” I reminded her, turning. No one was there.
“You will.” Again, the speaker was behind me. I whirled to face it, only to find empty space.
“As soon as we were healed. That was the agreement.”
“It was not.”
“Yes,” I insisted.
“No.”
I blinked, unsure how to argue with someone using the debating techniques of a toddler.
“It was one of Mac’s conditions.” Desperation fueled my words. I’d known it was risky to trust Eila, but it was a risk we’d needed to take. “He said you had to let us go after he… after he went with you.”
“And I replied.” Eila gathered before me, slowly assuming the appearance of a calm water with just a hint of a steady stone.
“You did. You said…” I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting a wave of nausea. She never agreed on a time we would leave. Coming from a creature for whom a century passed in the blink of an eye, that was worrying. “But you said Sera had to leave camp.”
I parsed her promises from the night before, and once again my stomach threatened to revolt. Sera was the strongest fire on the island. If Eila didn’t consider the mountaintop part of camp, Sera might soon find herself under a cairn of her own.
Mac had tried to cover every loophole when he negotiated. He’d missed a few big ones.
Perhaps this first creature had a code of honor, but that code was very literal.
“What do you want?” I tried for bravado. I did a great job, if bravado looked a lot like despair.
“I will remove the possibility of your madness.”