The Nothing: A Book of the Between (21 page)

“YOU THINK Godzilla will be okay?”

Vivian stood looking through an open casement into a garden that wasn’t really a garden. She could see a fountain and what appeared to be grass and flowers and trees. All illusion. But it wasn’t the magic, or the dragon, that was really on her mind.

The sorcerer girl had seen to their needs. They’d had baths and eaten a simple meal. Vivian was now, after all this time, alone with the man who held her heart, who could make her knees weak with a single look.

The man who had always been off-limits for one reason or another.

“Dragons have magic, don’t they?” He came and stood just behind her shoulder, not quite touching but close enough that she could feel the warmth of him, catch the good, honest smell of fresh sweat and the underlying scent that was purely Zee.

“They do, but he’s just a baby.”

Zee snorted. “Our young conductress will see to him, I think.”

Again Vivian felt that little twist of jealousy. She turned to face him, half seated on the stone ledge, mostly to brace herself at the insane weakness that always grabbed her when he was so close. Her heart hammered and she found she couldn’t meet his eyes.

“I wonder if she would have really told you her name?”

His hand cupped her chin and turned her face up so she could no longer avoid his eyes, the other hand tucking her hair back behind her ear. The simple touch finished her, heat following his fingers and lingering on her skin even when his hand had returned to his side. His eyes, that clear amber agate with the dark umber etching, looked into hers.

“Does it matter?” His voice had gone husky.

Vivian swallowed. “I think it does. It would be a demonstration of good faith.” Or a confirmation of the way those dark eyes followed his every movement.

Zee's thumb traced the fine skin under her eye. Vivian tried to turn her face away, but he held her there, his eyes reading the emotions she tried desperately to keep hidden. Jehenna had tried to seduce him, she remembered. And Aidan had succeeded. Now this beautiful young girl, clearly dripping with both magic and desire, followed him with eyes that said he was the sun, the moon, the everything.

His hand fell away and made a small gesture of futility, even as his eyes dropped to the healing scar on her breast, the place where he had struck with the dragonstone and very nearly killed her.

Defensively, her own hand rose to cover it.

“It will always be there,” he said. “No matter what I do, or you do, or how we try to pretend, what I have done will always be there between us.”

Tears unshed shone in his eyes but didn’t fall. He drew a quivering breath and began to turn away from her.

Vivian knew from the depth of her being that if she let this go now, it would be too late, that this was the last and only chance to heal, somehow, what had come between them.

“Zee,” she said, letting all of the pleading and the heartache and the need and the fear come into her voice. “Please.”

She took the hand that had dropped to his side and put it over her breast, the center of the palm directly over the scar. He tried to pull away, but she laid both hands flat over his and held him.

“You marked me, forever and always. I am yours, all that I am. If you’ll have me.”

His body jerked as though she’d slapped him. “If I’ll have you? If? I’ve never wanted anybody else. Since I was fourteen, you’ve walked my dreams. And then there you were, flesh and blood...”

“And dragon.” He had faltered, and she knew the sticking place. Her eyes held him in direct challenge.

“And dragon,” he whispered.

“And when Aidan tricked you?”

He took a breath, set his jaw, stood up straighter, as if preparing for a firing squad. “When she came to me, it was as I first saw you, walking into the store. Her eyes were gray...”

“And she had no scales. All soft woman. What you wanted me to be.”

“She was a dragon!” he cried out, pacing away from her across the room. “She, who didn’t look it, was dragon full and through. You are Vivian. Dragon and all, ever and always, you are Vivian.”

“The dragon isn’t dead,” she said, very softly. “Almost, Zee, but not quite.”

“That doesn’t change what I’ve done. Or what I am.” His fists were clenched, the muscles in his arms knotted so tight, they stood out clearly defined.

“Not your fault,” she whispered. When she reached up to touch his face, he flinched. She paused, reached out again, and this time he suffered her touch, quivering in the wake of the fingers that traced the line of his jaw, his chin, and then his lips. “They made you so, the forces that be. A cruel thing to draw us together in love. You the dragon slayer, me with the dragon blood in me. If I had power over fate...”

He grabbed her hand and pressed it to his lips. He was shaking now, breathing in great gasps. “Love, Vivian? Don’t use that word lightly.”

“Love,” she murmured. Again she took his hand—such a beautiful hand, warrior and artist inherent in its strength and capacity for gentleness— and laid it over the scar, this time shifting it to cover her entire breast, tipping back her head to look up into his eyes. “It has always been love. Since the day I walked into that store...”

“My God, Vivian, you are everything. Heart and soul...” The words sounded torn from his chest. The hand over her breast trembled.

Vivian rose on her tiptoes, clasped both hands behind his neck, and pulled his head down toward hers, pressing her lips against his. Something broke in him then. He kissed her with the intensity of a dying man reaching for the last moment of comfort, his lips covering hers, then straying to her cheeks and eyelids, her forehead, and then lips again.

He was sobbing now, strong man that he was, his arms so tight around her, she could scarcely catch her breath, but she returned the kisses, surrendered herself to him absolutely and completely.

All memory of Jared was gone, all the betrayal and the jealousy and hurt and doubt washed away.

Zee’s lips found their way to her throat, worked their way down toward her breast. Her body lifted toward him of its own accord, back arching, hips pressing upward and against his. She felt her nipples harden, the heat melt her from the core on out, every nerve, every sense open and aching to be closer to him.

“Please,” she heard herself saying, “please oh please oh please oh please.”

His fingers fumbled with the buttons on her shirt and then ripped it away, leaving her flesh free to press against his. He buried his face between her breasts for a long moment, his body shaking, and she knotted her fingers in his hair and held him close, feeling tears against her skin.

A long, quavering breath, and then his lips found their way, at last, to her waiting breast. She arched her back, breathing in the scent of him, letting go of everything but this moment. Dream memories of making love with Zee thronged around them for a moment, and then those, too, were gone and it was only the two of them. Here. In this moment, without past or future.

She needed his skin, was hungry for it, and pulled away from him long enough to lift his T-shirt up over his head. The scars, the bruises caught her breath for just a moment, jarred her to the reality of who he was and what they were up against, but then his lips were on hers again and all of that slid away.

When at last her hands undid his jeans, he stopped her, both hands on hers, holding her away. His eyes looked directly into hers. “Are you sure?”

“It’s you who should ask. I’ve got sorcery blood in me, too, Zee. I don’t know what I am.”

“Are you using magic on me now?”

“No.”

“You are Vivian, whatever that means.”

And then, “Please,” she heard her own voice begging again. “Please oh please oh please oh please.”

He freed her hands then so she could touch him, but only for a moment before he slid his own hands down over her hips and pulled her against him, lifting her in his arms so that her own hunger could match his.

“Bed,” he said as she pressed against him, wanting him inside her more than she had wanted anything, ever, in the course of her existence. He carried her there, laid her down, and then knelt above her, his eyes on hers.

“My love,” she said. “Oh, my love.”

He didn’t look away or close his eyes, and neither did she, so that as he entered her, the sensation swept away everything but his eyes and what she saw there. For a long, long time, he didn’t move, just held her there, eyes and bodies locked together, until she thought she might scream with the need to move, to thrust, and only then did he begin to move inside her.

Slowly at first, bringing her up little by little toward the climax, eyes still locked, then faster, long, smooth strokes, each one striking a deeper pleasure than the last until she heard her voice break free of all control and cry out in a cresting wave of pleasure even as she felt his whole body contract, and his voice near her ear whispered her name, “Vivian.”

They lay together for a long time, Zee still buried inside of her. She ran her hands over his back, stroked his hair, murmured her love to him. At long last, he rolled off of her and lay on his side, looking into her eyes. One hand tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

“You sure there was no magic in that?”

“Only ours, pure Vivian and Zee.”

“Beats sorcery.” He kissed her, then kissed her again. “Before you even think to ask, this, with you, is beyond measure and beyond compare to anything I’ve had with anybody else.”

“Even in dreams,” she whispered.

“Even in dreams.”

She was very drowsy, sated with love, his skin warm and alive beneath her fingers. “Don’t ever leave me, Zee,” she said, drifting.

In answer, he pulled her closer against him, and the last thing she knew before sleep claimed her was his strong hand stroking her hair.

V
IVIAN
SLEPT
as she had never slept before, deeply and without dreams, her small hand curled inside Zee’s strong one. Bliss, she thought, as she began to surface to waking, and tried to wall off her mind to shut out both the morning light and the memory of what the coming daylight meant.

A pounding at the door shattered it all to fragments.

By the time she had her eyes fully open, Zee was on his feet, naked but with his sword in hand.

“What?” she croaked, groggily, sitting up and looking around the chamber in the dim light of early morning.

Again the knock came at the door, this time followed by a voice. “I’m coming in.”

The door opened, and a slender shape slipped inside and pulled it closed again behind her. She held a silken cord in one hand, the end attached to a jeweled collar around the neck of the baby griffyn. The little creature was still thin, but some magic was at work, aiding in the healing.

“Oh, hell,” Vivian said, looking from the Master’s daughter to Zee’s scarred and well-muscled body. The girl wore a long black dress that clung to every curve; her hair flowed silken over her shoulders to the small of her back. Her eyes were wide, her lips slightly parted, and she had never looked lovelier.

In the same instant, Vivian became conscious of her own sleep-tangled hair and nakedness, pulling a sheet up to her chest. The flicker of jealousy vanished when the girl’s eyes went from Zee to Vivian and back again, registering the truth of the night and drooping a little.

“What do you want?” Zee asked, his voice a challenge. “If this is the eviction notice, you might let us get dressed”

“You need to come to the great hall at once.”

Something about the tone of her voice pushed the fuzziness out of Vivian’s head, made her look a little closer. No magic here, just years of working with people and reading between the lines.

“Has he asked for us?”

“Just come. Hurry.”

“Why should we trust you?”

She turned back, already halfway out the door. “What can I say? We have no time to build trust.”

“Give me your name,” Vivian said.

The girl’s face paled. A long moment she hesitated, then nodded. “That is fair. My name is Kalina. I give it freely and will not ask for yours.” And then she slipped away, silent as a shadow.