Otherworld Challenger (13 page)

Jethro moved his finger to the point where his cock and her sheath were joined. “This is where the magic between us happens.” He moved her hand up to his chest and held it over his heart before covering her left breast. “And here.”

His words triggered an explosion that hit Vashti hard, radiating out from her core to touch every nerve. At the same time as she clutched him tightly inside her, Jethro's orgasm pumped and jerked out its rhythm, his cry of ecstasy mingling with hers.

“How does this work?” Jethro studied her face as—once the world had righted itself and she lifted her sated body off his—Vashti curled up next to him. “You are somehow able to restore my strength through amazing sex and mind-blowing orgasms?”

She grinned. “Are you complaining?”

“God, no! Just trying to understand.”

“I don't know,” she confessed, a slight frown wrinkling her brow. “It's almost as if there is a force at work within me, drawing me to you, urging me to make you stronger. And, right now, to heal you.” Should she mention the other feeling? The one that told her this was
meant
? She decided against it. There was strange and there was downright odd. “I don't understand it.”

“Nor do I.” He pulled her into the crook of his arm and dropped a kiss onto the top of her head. “But I'm glad of it. I'm also hungry—” his smile, no longer a weak shadow of its former self, dawned “—and this time for food.”

* * *

“Tell me again what Iago said,” he asked after they had eaten a less-than-stimulating meal Vashti had procured from the motel's vending machines.

Jethro was still stunned by what had happened over the last twenty-four hours. He had no doubt Vashti had pulled him back from the brink of death—or something worse than death. The living hell of the Sluagh drawing his soul from his body inch by painful inch was a nightmare that would live with him forever. The agony inflicted by Iago's fireball searing his flesh was nothing in comparison.

Before Vashti had returned, he had tried several times to use fire against the Sluagh, but he had not had enough strength. Only with his body in contact with hers had he found the energy to send that fireball Iago's way and buy them a precious few minutes. Vashti had spoken about the way contact with Jethro made her powers stronger. It seemed to work both ways.

Vashti's healing techniques were unique. Sleep, food and sex. He doubted she'd ever get a license to practice.
And, face it, do I want my faerie therapist to work her magic on anyone else?
That thought triggered a series of don't-go-there others and he quickly turned it aside. The sleep and the food had been good. But the sex? That had been beyond incredible. And each time his body had grown stronger. So much so that now, just one day after that dawn encounter, he felt ready to face the world. His arm would be scarred forever by Iago's fireball, and perhaps his soul would bear similar wounds, but he was ready to continue his mission.

“He said you could only fully heal on Avalon.” Vashti lay in his arms, but she tilted her head back so she could look at him. Her expression was filled with anxiety.

“It's as well that's where we planned to go anyway, isn't it?” Jethro felt his facial muscles tighten with anger.

“I didn't like the way he spoke of it. He talked of someone—a woman—who was waiting there for you.” She raised worried eyes to his face. “Could it be Morgan le Fay?”

“Possibly. Although what would Morgan know of me? We've never met. I can't mean anything to her. Unless this is all about Iago's vendetta against me, Cal, Stella and Lorcan.”

“You mean because they blame you for the death of Niniane?”

“Yes. Niniane—the sorceress known as the Lady of the Lake—was Morgan le Fay's half sister. And Morgan is Iago's grandmother. Niniane was obsessed with Cal. Centuries ago, when he was still known as Merlin, she imprisoned him in a cave at Darnantes because he refused to return her love. Cal was freed by the Dominion, the Angels of the Fourth Choir, on condition he kept his identity secret and worked for them to protect the boundary between Otherworld and the mortal realm. That's why he's been known as Cal ever since. When Niniane found out he had escaped, she swore revenge. During the battle for Otherworld, she tried to kill him and Stella. The three of us—me, Cal and Stella—joined forces and destroyed her. Although Iago includes Lorcan in his vendetta, Lorcan was actually on the other side of the battlefield at the time.”

“If Iago has sworn to kill you, he could have done that easily yesterday. The Sluagh could have killed you at the de Loix house. You were unconscious, they were coming for you, then...” She floundered, as though seeking the words to explain what had happened. “They just stopped and flew away. Iago said you had been saved by someone powerful. He didn't say who saved you, or who the woman is that waits for you. He did say you would be unable to resist her and I would be forced to turn to him.”

“Wishful thinking.” The corners of Jethro's mouth turned down in distaste at the thought of Iago anywhere near Vashti. “Iago's got the hots for you. He knows you'll never feel the same way, so he's trying to come up with a scenario where he can get you in his power.”

“Maybe.” Vashti didn't seem convinced. She changed the subject. “You told Cal we would go to Barcelona and meet with Aydan before we set sail for Avalon. Is that still the plan?”

Jethro rose from the bed, flexing his injured left arm. It ached, but not too much. “That's the plan. Tanzi could be right. Aydan might be the challenger. It's a long shot, but it's worth checking out.”

“In which case, we wouldn't need to go to Avalon at all.” Her voice was hopeful.

“Challenger or no challenger. Money or no money. Iago has made this personal. This is between me and him now. He admitted he was the person who tried to burn down the old house. I'll be going to Avalon no matter what. And if Morgan le Fay wants to meet me, she can bring it on, as well.” Jethro shot her a sidelong glance. “You've fulfilled your obligation to the Council to observe me. You must know you can trust me to see this through. I'm sure they won't hold this against you if you decide not to accompany me to Avalon.”

“Are you kidding me?” Vashti bounced up from the bed. Standing beside him, she slid her arms around his waist. “To hell with observing you. We're in this together. I'm coming with you...whether you like it or not.”

Jethro turned so he could pull her fully into his arms. “That's what I hoped you'd say.”

Chapter 12

T
his time Vashti shared Jethro's seething impatience at the dawdling pace of international travel.

“How do mortals put up with this?” she asked as the plane they had boarded in New York finally landed in Barcelona as planned.

“They don't know any different,” he pointed out.

As they left the airport and made their way into the city, Vashti regarded the people milling around them. While she might still dislike the bustle of the mortal realm, her fear of this place had dissipated. It didn't mean she wouldn't be glad to return to Otherworld, of course.

Lorcan had given them detailed instructions on how to find the resistance safe house, explaining the location was guarded by a series of complex spells designed by Cal himself. Following the directions he had given them, they found themselves in front of a tall, dilapidated house. The front door of this uninviting building might once have been red. Leading up to it was a series of worn sandstone stairs. A tub of listless geraniums sat on the top step, their roots anchored in a combination of cigarette butts and dust.

“You'd have to be pretty desperate to run to this place,” Jethro commented as he raised his hand and knocked loudly on the door.

“From what Tanzi told me, most of the people who seek safety here have reached the point of despair.” Vashti glanced up at the windows, all of which were shuttered. “Mostly because of the behavior of my father.”

After a minute or two the door opened an inch. “You must be Pedro.” Jethro addressed the aging sidhe scrutinizing them through the gap. “Lorcan Malone told me to say
hola
.”

There was no response. “We have a letter from Lorcan.” Vashti nudged Jethro and he reached into his jacket pocket, producing Lorcan's scrawled missive. He held it out and the sidhe extended a hand through the narrow opening. Once he had taken the letter, he closed the door again, leaving Jethro staring incredulously at the scarred panels.

“He should ask the charm school for a refund,” Jethro commented with a grimace. “It's as well Lorcan already warned me his old friend Pedro takes incivility to a whole new level.”

“Look on the bright side. At least this means we're probably in the right place.”

Jethro tilted his head back to study the unprepossessing exterior of the building. “Would you call this a bright side?”

Before Vashti could respond the door opened again and Pedro jerked his head at them.
“Entrar.”

“Thank God for Lorcan,” Jethro muttered as they stepped inside. “Whatever his note said it seems to have done the trick.”

The interior of the house, while not exactly luxurious, was more comfortable than the outside promised. Pedro led them down a long, narrow hall and into a large kitchen at the rear of the property. This was occupied by a portly woman, who was as wide as she was tall, and a number of cats. The woman paused in the act of chopping onions to wipe her eyes on her apron and study the new arrivals. She looked Vashti up and down several times, a confused look in her eyes.

“Searc?”
It was the nickname Lorcan had bestowed on Tanzi when she was in hiding and her identity was a secret.

“No, I am her sister. We are twins.” This must be Maria, Pedro's wife. Vashti knew her sister had struck up a bizarre friendship with this funny little woman.

“Twins?
Sí. Bienvenida.
Welcome.”

Vashti momentarily feared Maria might start forward and embrace her. Before any such undesirable physical contact could take place, the door at the rear of the property opened and a young man walked in. He paused on the doorstep, staring at Vashti.

“Ah, pardon.”
Vashti was relieved when he switched to English. “I thought for a minute you were Tanzi, but I can see now I was wrong.”

Vashti exchanged a quick look with Jethro. “If you know my sister's real name, I'm guessing you must be Aydan?”

He came into the room and Vashti got a good look at him. She liked what she saw. Aydan had an open face with regular features and an engaging smile. His features were pleasant without being precisely handsome. He had the sort of face you'd trust. Did he look like a long-lost king? That was the all-important, unanswerable question.

“Yes, I'm Aydan.” Pulling out a chair at the large, well-worn table in the center of the room, Aydan invited Vashti and Jethro to join him. Once they were seated, he turned to Maria. “Is there any coffee in that pot,
querida
?”

With a glare that could curdle the freshest milk, Maria halted her chopping and brought the coffeepot and three cups over to the table. “
Sí, el jefe.
” Her voice dripped sarcasm as she poured the dark liquid.

“What did she call you?” Vashti inquired when Maria, with a dark look over her shoulder in Aydan's direction, stomped out of the room.

“
El jefe.
The boss or the chief. Maria misses Lorcan. She can't get used to me being in charge. I guess I don't have the same air of authority he had.” His expression was rueful.

Jethro, who had been watching Aydan carefully, shot a meaningful glance in Vashti's direction at those words. She gave a tiny shake of her head in return. It was hardly conclusive. If Aydan didn't know he was the challenger, how could he be expected to know he should have an air of authority?

“How is Lorcan?” Aydan appeared not to notice the exchange. “Last time I saw him, Iago had infiltrated this house and with it, of course, the resistance movement. He pulled a mad stunt where he set a dozen zombies on us while pretending to fall down in a faint. Then he disappeared. Not long after that, Lorcan and Tanzi vanished, too. I'm guessing the two things weren't unrelated?”

Jethro managed to give the edited highlights of what had happened after Lorcan and Tanzi left the safe house. “Not entirely. Iago was working for Moncoya. Once he left here, he went straight to Moncoya with information about where Tanzi was. Lorcan escorted her to safety. They are married now.”

“And Iago?”

“Still around. Still causing trouble.” Maria made a truly disgusting cup of coffee and Vashti watched in some amusement as Jethro forced himself to finish the foul-tasting brew. “He has issued a challenge to us. We are to follow him to Avalon.”

Aydan whistled. “Avalon? You won't go, of course.” He glanced from Jethro to Vashti, then back again. “Ah, I see. You
are
going to Avalon. Good luck with that.” Suspicion dawned on his face. “Why have you come here?”

Before they could answer him, a young woman came into the kitchen. “Aydan, I wanted to ask...” The words died on her lips as she paused in the doorway.

It would be hard to say the color drained from her face, because she was already so pale. Her skin was lily-white and her hair white-blond. In contrast, her eyes were so dark they appeared black. Her features were sharp, her limbs slender and willowy. Her looks were unusual yet curiously compelling.

Although her eyes flickered briefly over Vashti, it was undoubtedly Jethro who caused the new arrival to become frozen into immobility. Her gaze fixed on his face and her eyes widened. Vashti was getting used to women doing a double-take when they looked at Jethro. Or the occasional surreptitious glances in his direction. Even the open flirtatiousness. This was something more. This woman, whoever she was, was riveted to the spot by him. It was almost embarrassing. When Jethro smiled at her, a faint blush bloomed in her pale cheeks.

“Hey, Lisbet.” Aydan held out his hand to her. His voice broke the spell and, dragging her eyes away from Jethro's face with an obvious effort, Lisbet turned to look at Aydan. “These are Lorcan's friends. This is Jethro and, in case you hadn't made the connection, Vashti is Tanzi's sister.” For Jethro and Vashti's benefit, he added, “This is my girlfriend, Lisbet.”

Lisbet's lips parted as though she was about to say something, then, without warning, she whirled around and ran back the way she had come. Her footsteps echoed on the wooden floorboards of the hall before pounding up the stairs.

Aydan's hand dropped back to his side. “I'm sorry.” He addressed the words to Vashti. “Lisbet believed Moncoya sent Tanzi to infiltrate the resistance. Even when we discovered Iago was our traitor, Lisbet remained prejudiced against Tanzi. I can only imagine your likeness to your sister brought back the memory of that time.”

Vashti inclined her head, as though accepting his explanation. Did Aydan buy his own account of what had just happened? Could he be oblivious to Lisbet's reaction to Jethro? She had barely glanced Vashti's way.
I doubt she noticed me, let alone realized I look like Tanzi.
No, Lisbet's whole body had undergone some sort of wild reaction in response to Jethro.
Which I fully understand, having been on the receiving end of his unique brand of alchemy myself. I just wouldn't have expected it to be so potent on first sight...or to be so devastating across several feet.

Vashti glanced at Jethro. He was leaning back in his chair, apparently unaware of the devastation he had wrought on an unknown woman.

Aydan's voice brought her back to reality. “This is quite a detour. Would you care to tell me why you have come here on your way to Avalon?”

“It's a long story. Can we tell you later, after we've rested?” Jethro stretched his long frame with a yawn.

* * *

Maria showed them to a room on the top floor of the house. It contained a large bed with a brass bedstead and very little else. In her broken English, Maria informed them dinner would be ready in two hours.

“If we were into swinging cats, we wouldn't be able to do it in here,” Jethro commented when Maria had gone. He glanced out the window across the jumble of rooftops.

“You mortals have some strange habits.” Vashti kicked off her boots and collapsed onto the bed with a sigh of relief. “I thought you were fond of felines?”

He laughed. “I'm too tired to go there. What do you think of Aydan? Is he our challenger?”

“I thought we'd know when we met him. That we'd recognize him instantly because he'd have an aura about him. If that's the case, then it's a no. Aydan doesn't have that. But what if I'm wrong and the challenger appears to be an ordinary guy? That would make Aydan a maybe.”

“If you take that line of thinking, anyone could be a maybe.”

Vashti groaned. “I'm exhausted. Can't we sleep now and think later?”

Jethro came and lay down next to her. Vashti turned on her side, fitting her body into his embrace. It was scary how natural the movement was. The kiss they exchanged was a mix of comfort and intoxication. Vashti gave a soft murmur of pleasure when Jethro's tongue slipped into her mouth. She responded with all she had, stroking her tongue against his in a caress that told him everything she wanted to say out loud. Jethro broke the kiss, lifting his head slowly to stare down at her. His eyes told her he understood. Wrapping his arms tighter around her waist, he pulled her closer.

He raised his head, his eyes warm on her face. “How sleepy are you?”

“Very sleepy.” Vashti's voice was husky in response. It wasn't true. Never had tiredness deserted her so swiftly.

“That's a shame.” He ran his tongue lightly along her lower lip, then tugged it gently between his teeth.

“Why? Did you have something in mind?”

Jethro nodded, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Shall I show you what I was planning? Then you can decide if you want to continue or if you'd rather sleep...”

Dear God! The things he could do to her with that look! Any trace of tiredness was gone. All she could think about was the heat searing her body. Jethro's gaze was setting her nerve endings on fire, turning her insides into glowing embers.

“Show me what you've got.” She lay back, noticing with pleasure Jethro's breathing was as labored as her own. It thrilled her to know she had this sort of power over him.

When Jethro began by tracking a teasing hand down her body, a soft moan of pleasure built in Vashti's throat. Her toes curled and her fingers gripped the sheets. Lowering his head, Jethro claimed her lips in an achingly slow kiss. Then his lips moved downward, to the neckline of her vest, and rational thought scattered. All that mattered was her desperate need for him and the fire consuming her body.

Jethro's lips traced her body through the thin vest, finding a nipple and sucking it through the fabric. Vashti's back arched off the bed and she cried out, gripping his hair as she was drawn into a swirling vortex of sensation. Jethro tugged the strap off her shoulder, pulling the vest down enough to bare one breast. His stubble scraped against her sensitive skin, adding to her arousal. His mouth was raw heat on her naked flesh and more cries of pleasure spilled from Vashti's lips as she writhed on the mattress. He reduced her to a bundle of nerve endings, each one thrumming for his touch.

Jethro slid a hand down, flicking open the button on her jeans and moving his fingers inside so he could stroke the cleft of her sex. Her hips pushed up off the bed as the warmth between her legs became an insistent ache.

“Still sleepy, Vashti?”

In answer, she helped him pull down her zipper, lifting her hips as he slid her jeans and underwear down her body. Jethro slipped one finger into her heat, stroking her, in and out, over and over. Vashti met every thrust of his finger with a tilt of her hips, moaning with each masterful caress. Waves of desire coiled through her, building and spiraling until she wanted to scream. Just when she thought she couldn't take any more, Jethro bent his head, trailing his lips lower, approaching the sweet spot that burned so wonderfully.

Finally his mouth was there, finding her clitoris and tormenting it with his tongue. Making love to it slowly and tenderly. He tasted her, his tongue flicking and swirling. Vashti's hips rose and fell in time with the commands of his mouth, her whole body shaking as she moaned, almost sobbing with pleasure. Jethro thrust his tongue right up inside her, then licked upward to her clitoris, circling and caressing, slowly alternating the movements until an orgasm stormed through her. He continued to lap as she came, increasing the sensations so the tremors ripped through her again, wave after wave. Vashti turned her head, muffling her screams with a pillow until Jethro finally raised his head and took her into his arms, kissing her and stilling her body into silence.