Soulceress (The Mythean Arcana Series Book 2) (12 page)

“You’re looking for dinner too?”

He could barely hear her through the buzzing in his head. Without her usual armor of jeans and a leather jacket, the sight of her, so different from what he was used to, made him realize how much he wanted her. Made him realize how damn long it had been since he’d been with a woman.

Now, when he needed his iron will more than ever, it fled. The scent of her banished it from his being. They were a mere foot from each other, so close that it was easy to reach out with a trembling hand and cup the back of her head. Her raven hair felt like silk against his fingers. How long had it been since he’d touched something so soft?

Her lips parted and her amber eyes took on a wary sheen. “What are you doing?”

The words were but a whisper that bounced ineffectually against the force of his desire. He pulled her closer until he could feel her breath against his lips, hot and sweet.
 

“This is a bad idea,” she whispered, but she didn’t push him away.

Aye, it was a bad idea. Celibacy had been working really well for him. It kept his mind clear and focused, which he sure as hell needed. The responsible Warren who worked tirelessly for the university would have stiffened his shoulders and walked out. The Warren who’d decided to fuck the university and hunt for the soulceress who had stolen his soul didn’t care. The pressure of the last few days was breaking him.
 

Breaking him down into the components of his basest self: Need. Lust. Instinct.

He pulled her to him, groaning low in his throat when her body pressed against his. As his mouth closed over hers, she moaned, parting her lips. She stroked her tongue against his, inviting him in. He followed, desperate to taste her, to see if she was as sweet as he suspected.

“Warren.” She dropped the crackers and ran her hands up his chest and into his hair, gripping his head and holding him tightly to her, as if she never wanted to let go.
 

His surroundings faded. She was hot and warm and wet in a way that shot a bolt of lust straight to his cock. He wanted to touch her, to taste her, to tear her clothes off her and know every inch of her. The celibacy that had allowed him control over his life and peace in his mind suddenly seemed ridiculous.

Desperate, he yanked her up into his arms and pressed her back against the wall just outside the pantry, cupping the back of her head to protect it from the hard wood.

Her long legs closed around his waist and she rolled her hips. His cock surged at the feel of her, hot and soft against him. Only a few layers of fabric separated them. Too much.
 

“Gods, I want you,” he muttered, and gripped the curve of her ass.
 

Her mouth dragged down the side of his neck and he moaned, gripping her hips and grinding his cock against her softness.

“There.” She gasped. “Right there.”
 

She moved against him, gracefully at first, but soon devolved into mindlessness in pursuit of pleasure.
 

Could she come like this? The idea spurred him on, made him thrust and capture her mouth in hopes it would push her over the edge.

“Yes.” Her hands fisted in his hair as her hips grew frantic.

She was close, he was sure of it.

A great boom of thunder shook the house, and darkness crashed around them as the power cut out. Esha stiffened in his arms, her trance broken. She shuddered.

“Bad idea.” She scrambled out of his arms and away. “This has only ever ended terribly with you.”

“I—”

“No, we’re a bad idea, Warren. You don’t like me. Once, I wouldn’t have cared. But I do now. I want more than this.” She ignored the crackers she’d dropped and turned to leave, snagging his beer on her way out. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

Warren squeezed his eyes shut and leaned back against the pantry wall. A heavy breath heaved through his lungs.
Damn it.
 

Suddenly, a wave of nausea replaced the desire, almost bringing him to his knees. Sweat broke out on his brow and he swallowed hard, trying to force the nausea down. His muscles weakened until he had to grip the door frame and will himself to stand.
 

Time for more pills.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Getting to the island was going to be a bitch. Warren surveyed the crashing waves that pounded the pebble beach, then looked over at Esha, who stood with her hands on her hips and serenity on her face. Afraid of nothing.
 

They’d avoided each other this morning and hadn’t spoken much while driving out to Bunnessan, the little town where they were going to put the boat into the water. Early afternoon sun struggled to illuminate the turbulent sea.

“Putting the boat in is going to be wet,” she said, nodding at the waves. “Once we’re out to sea, I can dry us. I’m not too keen on speeding through November winds on the Celtic Sea in wet clothes.”

Warren wasn’t as worried about that, or even about getting the boat into the water. It was landing at Fingal’s Cave that concerned him. If the winds were as strong there, the waves would be crashing into the vertical rock face. Navigating out of the cave would be a bitch too, since it would be dark by that time. He glanced at Esha again. Was he willing to risk her safety?
 

He didn’t have a choice. Not if he wanted to get his soul back. Memories of last night’s debilitating cramps hardened him. If he didn’t get his soul back before the medicine stopped working, he’d be completely nonfunctional.

And it wasn’t like he was going to turn Esha over to Aurora. Once Esha led him to Aurora, he’d have her safely away before he confronted the other soulceress. Though how he was going to manage that, he still wasn’t sure.

“Let’s put the boat in,” he said.
 

Within twenty minutes, they had the boat launched. Waves crashed over the bow of the sleek powerboat as they sped through the water. Turbulent gray clouds crawled over the horizon, threatening an early dusk if they kept up through the day. Just what they needed.

Though the air was brisk and the wind fierce, Warren could feel the heat of Esha, who stood right next to him, hanging onto the support bar attached to the steering console. He forced his attention to the wide gray ocean.

“Shite,” he said, thirty minutes later when he caught sight of Staffa. The small island rose vertically out of the sea, waves crashing against its steep sides.
 

“That’s it.” Excitement and fear thrummed in Esha’s voice as she pointed to the dark space at the waterline of the cliff.
 

Warren steered the boat closer, slowing as he caught sight of the waves. The sound of them crashing against the stone carried even over the wind. He glanced at his watch, then caught Esha’s eye.
 

“It’s almost exactly low tide. It’s now or never, but those waves are still pretty fierce,” he said.
 

“No problem. We’re entering a soulceress space. I can guide us in. I don’t have a lot of control over elements, but enough that I can get us in safely. I think.”

Gods, she was brave. The prospect of piloting a small boat into the churning water of a cave made solely of vertical surfaces perfect to crash your boat against would have lesser Mytheans running with their tails tucked.

Esha walked to the bow for a better view. Her midnight hair whipped in the wind and spray splashed her. The entrance to the cave loomed ahead, dwarfing her tall frame. Regret that he was putting her in danger crept under his skin with little claws, an itchy feeling he couldn’t shake. He was supposed to be in control of the situation, to be able to protect her, but already things were getting out of hand.

Warren piloted the boat inside, gritting his teeth at the narrowness of the waterway and the sight of the waves crashing into the vertical walls. When he’d been mortal so many years ago, it would have been considered a fairy cave, its octagonal pillars of basalt a gate to their lair. Inside, it was narrow, the cathedral-like pillars soaring high above the waterline. There was no entrance to the howf that he could see. Nothing but stone walls.

“There’s no place to tie off,” he shouted over the echoing sound of crashing waves. “We should retreat outside the cave and hike in.”

No sooner had he said the words than the water surged up, crashing over the bow of the boat and throwing him to the stern. He choked on the saltwater that burned his throat and eyes and heaved himself to his feet.

“Esha!” he roared.

“Here!” She coughed and stumbled upright from where she’d been thrown to the floor at the bow.

Behind her, the water rose again, unnaturally high and shaped like a long-armed beast. It reached out with unnatural arms and threw their boat against the cave wall. Fiberglass crunched and the boat crashed back into the water, listing dangerously to the side. He held his feet, but Esha was thrown to the floor once again. He started toward her, only to stumble when the boat was thrown into the other wall. Fiberglass crunched again.

Shite. They would sink. Their boat was no match for the unnatural magic that haunted this place.

With a glance at Esha to determine that she was alright, he yelled, “We’re getting out of here!”

“No!” Esha screamed and threw a bolt of flame at the water beast. It shrieked and steam rose off its surface. Esha cast a bigger flash of fire at it. It evaporated, vapor sizzling and filling the cave with a steam that burned his lungs.

To hell with this. With the waves crashing and the steam filling the cave, this place was nearly as dangerous as it had been. He yanked the lever to reverse the engine, but before he could back out, a huge wave picked up the small vessel and threw it at the cave wall. Fear for Esha nearly sent his heart through his chest. He charged at her. Just as the boat was about to crash into the great stone wall, he dragged her to the deck and curved his body around hers to protect her.

He braced himself, praying to the god he no longer worshiped to protect them. But instead of the thundering crash he expected, the boat sailed gracefully down upon the wave.

“Get off me.” Esha pushed at him. She was soaked and still choking on seawater, but she stumbled to her feet.

What the hell?
Frowning, he released her and stood. He spun in a three-sixty, taking in the giant cavern they’d entered. The boat floated in a small pond in the center, phosphorescence in the water illuminating the walls made of octagonal pillars. If he squinted back the way they’d come, he could just make out a shadow of light from the entrance to Fingal’s Cave. The steam was gone, along with the water beast. A quick survey of the boat revealed that the rails and part of the sides were nearly crushed, but it was still seaworthy. Barely.

“What the hell was that?” he asked.

“Protective magic.” She scraped her wet hair off her face, then leaned over and coughed, no doubt trying to get the seawater out of her lungs. After a few heaving breaths, she stood. “It activated when we neared the entrance. I didn’t think I’d manage to stop it.”

“You were quick, though.” They’d have been dead if she hadn’t been. “Good work.”

“No. Good luck. I didn’t know what would defeat it. But it sure as hell confirmed we’re in the right place.”

“Aye. But doona scare me like that again. I thought you were going to crash into the stone wall.”

“I can take care of myself.” She spun to take in the cave, a look of awe and apprehension on her face. The cat was leaning out of the boat, batting at the phosphorescence and no longer concerned about threats.

“Is this the
howf
?”

“No, it’s the entrance. It was once part of Fingal’s Cave, but it was enchanted to keep it hidden. It gives us the time and secrecy we need to find the
howf
.”

“Why the hell did you no’ tell me we’d be crashing through an imaginary wall on a giant wave you’d be conjuring?”

“I figured you’d be able to see through the illusion, since you’re a Mythean. I guess you’re not the right kind of Mythean.”

He frowned. But it was true. There was nothing right about him. He caught her looking at him and shook the thoughts away. Carefully, he steered the boat toward the shore that looked the best for landing. When they ran up onto the pebble beach, the Chairman was the first to hop out, followed by Esha. While she explored the huge cavern, Warren tied the boat off to one of the rock pillars.

“Start looking for anything out of the ordinary,” Esha called, her voice echoing off the soaring stone walls.
 

Warren glanced around at the phosphorescent pool and the octagonal pillars. The whole bloody place was out of the ordinary.

After twenty minutes of climbing over the pillars and searching the walls, something finally seemed odder than the place itself.

“Esha, come here,” he said, not bothering to speak up since sound traveled so easily here. He heard her approaching, could even hear the padding footsteps of the cat, but he kept his eyes on the faint letters etched into the wall, afraid that if he looked away he wouldn’t find them again.

“What’d you find?” Esha stopped next to him. He gestured to the writing. “Wow.”