Mists of Velvet (18 page)

“If you’re not frightened, then why do you shiver?”

No way was she going to answer that. Even if she did admit to him what she wanted, she doubted she could let herself go enough to allow him to make love to her.

“It’s cold,” she answered instead.

He stepped closer and slowly wrapped his arms around her waist, bringing her up against the hot, solid wall of his chest. She gasped at the contact, at the feel of him surrounding her.

“I’ll warm you up.”

She was burning. It was a little scary at first, feeling all that muscle surrounding her. It instantly made her feel vulnerable, until he lowered his head to her ear and said, “Take a deep breath.”

She did. And then she took another until the alarm receded and she felt nothing but Keir around her. Closing her eyes, she pressed the side of her face against his naked chest. She listened to his breathing, smelled his skin, and allowed herself to savor this moment she thought she would never experience with him.

He held her still and tight, letting her get used to his height and size. But then he moved his hand up her back, a slow, gentle glide along her spine. His touch was so incredible. She felt it all the way through her shirt as if she were naked. Then she realized Keir was naked. Where his leather pants had gone, she had no idea, but she knew—she felt his nakedness against her. One shift of her thighs, and his cock would be nudging between them. At the thought of that, her legs threatened to give out on her, and he caught her more firmly around her waist.

“Step onto the robe.”

She followed his command and allowed him to help her to stand on the satin. She absolutely refused to look down, although she wanted to—badly. She wanted to see if the rest of his body was as amazing as the top part.

“This is the best way I can do this. My magick is always strongest when I’m naked.” It kind of sounded like an apology, and Rowan bit her lip. He didn’t want to be naked with her. He had to, for magick’s sake.

“We both need to stand on the robe. It’s the grounding force for my divination magick.”

“Okay,” she said around a hard swallow. He was pressing closer to her, so close she felt his heat and smelled his skin. Her mouth watered as she wondered what he would taste like.

“Touch me,” he whispered against her. “Ground yourself to me.”

His voice was deep and dark, like black velvet; his suggestion heady. She didn’t know where—how to touch him, but he took the guesswork from her. He placed her hands on his chest, then took her fingers and made her hold on to the quartz necklace once again.

“Is this going to work?” she asked skeptically.

“Yes, and even better if you would shed your clothes and stand naked against me.”

She almost choked. Naked in front of Keir? She wasn’t ready for that. Hell, she might never be ready for that.

“Magick must flow between us. Skin to skin. My energy mixing with yours.”

“I can’t,” she said, her voice rising in panic she couldn’t hide.

“Shh,” he soothed, pulling her close. He held her still and allowed the panic to subside. “It’s okay; we’ll do it like this. It’ll work. I’ll find a way to make it work.”

Suddenly she felt let down. Part of her wanted him to insist she let go of her fears and strip for him. She wanted him to fight for her, to make her do as he asked. She wanted to be wanted by Keir, even if it meant he wasn’t gentle but downright demanding. Perhaps she wanted to throw caution to the wind and have Keir take her, because she was too damned scared to take him.

“Rowan,” he murmured, “let your mind go.”

She tried to forget about how much she wanted him, how he felt holding her; it worked, too, but the minute she felt herself loosening up, the old fears came rushing back.

“Shh,” he soothed as she whimpered. “I’m here.”

Rowan felt his hands moving along her back till they made their way into her hair. He rubbed her scalp and pressed his mouth to her temple. The tip of his cock nudged against her jeans, and she almost melted at feeling him grow against her.

“Wh-what are you doing?” she gasped as she felt his lips against her cheek.

“Relaxing you.”

Oh, God, her heart was beating too fast and she couldn’t catch her breath, and it was not because she was remembering, but because she wanted this. She wanted him.

“Will you give me something?” he murmured. His deep voice sent tremors through her.

Anything
, she almost cried, but instead she nodded, slowly. A little unsure. Pressing her closer, he brushed his mouth against her ear. His breath was moist, hot, and it made her belly flip.

“Give me your trust, Rowan. I would never, ever hurt you. I want only to take you somewhere.”

“Where?”

His palm slid down her back until his fingers rested low on the waistband of her jeans. “A place only for us.”

Oh, God, was it possible he was thinking what she was thinking? Pulling away from her, he brought her down to the floor so that she lay on the satin. She was on her back, gazing up at him, her heart pounding and her blood rushing in her ears. “There’s something I’ve wanted to ask you to do for a long time.” He smiled and brushed his hand along her shoulder.

“To take this journey?”

“Yes.”

“Where are we going?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never done this before.”

Instantly, Rowan’s enthusiasm deflated. He wasn’t here for what she foolishly thought—obviously. Because there was no way Keir had never done
that
before.

“Oh,” she muttered, shifting her body on the robe. Evidently her idea of a mystical journey was a lot different than his.

“You have powers, Rowan; I know you do. We just have to tap into them. You can’t get at them because of your fears, which are understandable, of course. But I believe we can access them together.”

“If I do have powers, what do you want with them?”

He looked startled. “Nothing.”

“Then why bother?”

“It will tell us about your past.”

She shook her head. “The past is not happy, Keir. I don’t need powers to tell me that. Nor do I want to rehash a whole bunch of drama from my childhood.”

“But you do know you’re not fully human?”

“Suriel. Now you. What is it with you? What interests you about what I might or might not be?”

His hands gripped hers, and he lowered himself to the carpet. His wide shoulders were between her knees, and Rowan had the mad urge to run her hands through his dark hair.

“I am hoping there is something in your past that might change your future.” Rowan watched him swallow hard. He never blinked, keeping his gaze trained on her face. “I want to help you. I want to
save
you.”

She couldn’t help herself any longer. She ran her fingers through his hair and marveled at how silky it felt. “I’m beyond saving. You know that.”

“I don’t think so. I believe I know a way—through magick. Will you let me?”

How could she refuse a face like that? With a quick nod, she accepted.

Reaching for the quartz that hung around his neck, he lifted it and showed it to her. “This is a talisman. In meditation, you need something to hold on to. Use this—and I’ll always be able to find you, wherever you are.”

“Why quartz?” she asked, smoothing her finger over the glossy surface.

“Quartz is the gem that rules divination. It is a balancer between beauty and peace. When worn, it aligns mental, emotional, and astral bodies. When you wear this, and clear your mind, you can call upon me, and I can come to you.”

“Do you mean like astral projection?”

“Yes. But spiritually as well.”

Rowan bent her head as Keir removed the necklace and placed it on her. The warm quartz nestled between her breasts, and Keir let his fingers linger over the stone. Holding her breath, she waited for him to touch her; to brush his fingertips over her breasts. But the touch never came.

“Have you ever heard of scrying?”

“No.”

“Let me show you something.” With a wave of his hand, a mirror magically appeared before them, and he helped her up so that they stood before it. She gazed at them in the mirror’s reflection. He stood behind her, dwarfing her despite her voluptuous proportions. His arms snaked around her waist, and he pulled her back to him.

“Scrying is a method of divination. One simply gazes at or into an object to still the conscious mind in order to contact the psychic mind.”

She couldn’t tear her gaze away. What would it be like to watch him in the mirror as he touched her? To see him making love with her?

“What are you saying, Keir?” she forced herself to ask, although she was barely listening to him. All she could hear was the sound of their passion. Would he moan? Did he whisper during lovemaking, or would he talk to her, arousing her with dark words and heated innuendos?

She would want him to talk, she realized. To tell her all the things she needed to hear; all the things she’d heard him say to her in her dreams.

“By calming your mind,” he whispered into her ear, “you might be able to see the future, or to have visions of past or present events.”

“Can’t you do it yourself?”

She saw in the mirror’s reflection how Keir’s gaze strayed to the quartz nestled between her breasts. “What I want to do, I cannot do by myself. I have come to believe it may be possible to walk through dimensions, say to the past, and thus change that past. What if, by traveling back in time, we could undo our sins, and change our fate?”

The look in his eyes was now haunted. There was a flicker in the reflection. She glanced up and saw that Keir’s eyes were no longer silver but an odd shade of white, the irises replaced with a brilliant light that drew her in.

“Will you help me?” he asked, hypnotizing her with that brilliant gaze. “Act as my portal and help me find what I’m searching for. Perhaps through me you will learn to have control over your powers. And then together we can find a way to save you.”

She felt her will was suddenly not her own as she stared into the mirror. “Keir,” she said nervously, her nails digging into his arms, “I don’t want to do this.”

“What do you see?” he asked, ignoring her protests. “What do you feel?”

“Frightened.”

He squeezed her and lowered his head to her ear, keeping his gaze locked on hers in the mirror. “I’ve got you,” he murmured. “I won’t ever let you go.”

But she knew at some point she would die, and any friendship they had would be gone. Who was she to deny him this one favor? He’d done a lot for her, and that was something she wasn’t going to ignore.

“For me, Rowan? Please. Just try it once.”

“Tell me what to do.”

“Keep looking into the mirror. Allow your fear to go and know that I’ll keep you safe. Wherever you go, I’ll be there with you.”

Looking into the mirror—at him—wasn’t the problem. It was letting her fears go. She wasn’t one to drop her guard, but she wanted to do this for Keir, and maybe, then, she would discover something about herself. Hopefully it wouldn’t be depressing.

Holding Keir’s gaze, she absorbed the feel of his strong arms around her. Slowly she began to match her breathing to his and let her mind empty of her racing thoughts. The quartz nestled between her breasts began to heat and glow.

Without conscious thought, Rowan held out her arms and placed her palms on the glass. Her body jolted, and Keir held her tighter, whispering into her ear, but she didn’t hear a thing. The mirror seemed to pull her in, and she let it. This was the journey she had agreed to take. And true to his word, Keir was right behind her, holding her, anchoring her to him.

As if having an out-of-body experience, Rowan saw herself step into the mirror and through a vortex that was a kaleidoscope of bright colors.

Once the spinning stopped, she found herself in the middle of a forest. The trees were leafless, and the sky above was the deep steel gray of winter. Before her, a man lay prone. His face was pressed into a thin blanket of snow that covered the ground. His bare hands were outstretched, as if he had fallen flat on his face. He was wearing jeans, black boots, and a long black wool coat. He wasn’t moving.

She looked back, toward the portal through which she had entered this world, and saw herself with Keir. His arms were still around her, and he was peering intently into the mirror. She saw her own body, held securely in his arms. It was then she understood what had happened to her—astral projection. She had no idea she was capable of such a feat.

She turned back to the man on the ground and gently toed his hand with the tip of her shoe, searching for any signs of life—nothing.

She took a step back and nearly screamed as his hand suddenly grabbed her ankle. He was awake. And oh, God, he was moving toward her, using her ankle as leverage as he dragged himself closer.

The man made no sound as he heaved his upper body up from the cold ground. Slowly, his dark head rose, until she caught a glimpse of strong lips and a masculine jaw. The wind gusted, blowing his long hair away from his face.

She swayed, swallowed hard, and took a step back, just as he got to his feet and unfurled his tall body. He was now standing before her, a little unsteady, but his gaze clear. She gulped, taking in his face and the beautiful eyes glistening down at her.

She had never seen anyone like him. The entire left side of his face was tattooed with strange symbols, the sprawling marks covering his forehead, his eyelid, his cheek, all the way down to his mouth, where the corner of his lips bore the same strange marks.

She glanced at his face and felt her body tremble at the sight.

It was as if someone had drawn an imaginary line directly down the front of his face, purposely destroying half his beauty, while leaving the other side unmarred, a side he would have to confront every time he looked in the mirror. A side that silently whispered, “
This is how I used to be.
”