Fires Of Solstice Part 9

Alice was behind her, standing on tiptoe trying to see over her shoulder. "Who are they from?"

Meredythe shoved the card back into the envelope and stuck it in her pocket. "There 's no signature."

Alice clapped her hands together. "Ooh! A secret admirer. How romantic! And lunch with another guy. Your love life is definitely on the upswing."

"Listen, Alice, I have work to do. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"But-""Alice..."Muttering under her breath, Alice disappeared around the part.i.tion and headed toward her own desk. One day Merry was going to fall for some guy-hard. She only hoped she'd be there to see it.

Meredythe's blood warmed as she stared at the roses. There was only one man who' d done anything yesterday that required an apology. And any feelings of remorse hadn't stopped him from acting just as highhanded today. Slowly she reached out and stroked soft petals. Who was he? And why couldn't she stop thinking about him?

"Next time I talk to James, I have to find out his name."

Chapter Five.

Methuselah turned his attention from the moon to Meredythe's bed. Sighing in her sleep, she rolled over. Jumping from the windowsill onto her bed, he sidled against her and nudged her shoulder.

She muttered something incomprehensible and rolled away from him.

That's it, turn over. There are more memories for you.

Rolling over, Meredythe turned her face toward the moon... and began to dream.

Incessant clanging from the church bells shattered the peace of the small town, wailing and lamentations rising above their clamor. A frenzied crowd pulled a house to the ground while flames licked the foundations of another.

"d.a.m.n it, Rhys," Bleddyn snarled as they shoved their way through the terrified crowd. "You said she'd be safe here."

The older man began to walk faster, past one family group after another, all hastily loading their meager possessions onto carts. A small mob scrambled around and between them, screaming about the end of the world.

Rhys put his hand out and grabbed a brown-clad monk hurrying in the opposite direction. "Brother, what has happened?"

Grimacing, the cleric shrugged his hand off. "Leave me be. I have no time." Then his shoulders sagged. "There are too many. I can't care for all of them. My brothers have all succ.u.mbed."

Grabbing two handfuls of brown robe, Bleddyn jerked the obviously exhausted man close. "Succ.u.mbed? Who? How did they die?"

The tired man crossed himself. "The Black Death. May G.o.d in all His wisdom have mercy on us."

Paralyzing fear sapped the strength from Bleddyn's muscles and he released the monk, who staggered away. He was soon lost in the crowd. After a moment of frozen silence, Bleddyn jerked his eyes to Rhys. "Meredythe!" Then he began to run.

"Bleddyn, wait," Rhys called after him, but the swirling crowd had already swallowed him.

Snarling, Bleddyn shoved another wailing person from his path and rounded a corner. Flames licked the house at the end of the street. Meredythe lived with a family in the one next to it. A huge figure stepped into the street and blocked his path.

"Out of my way, fool," he growled.

"You're the fool, young wolf," the huge man answered.

Bleddyn stopped and peered into the man's face. Recognition stabbed his brain. His blood boiled and the beast in his soul howled with rage. Snarling, he bared his teeth. "Slade! What do you want?"

A toothy grin spread across the huge man's face. "The same thing you do, but neither of us shall have her now."

The urge to transform and attack surged and swelled. Bleddyn swore silently to himself and wrestled with the devil in his soul. Slowly, desperately, he fought then conquered it. Muscles locked rigidly into place, he glared at Slade. "What are you talking about?"

The big man shrugged. "She's dying. The plague has claimed her."

Every muscle and nerve in Bleddyn's body shrieked with denial. "You lie."

Slade gestured to a small cart that almost blocked the alley behind him. "See for yourself."

Pushing past the other man, Bleddyn stepped to the cart and pulled away the blankets. Meredythe huddled on bloodstained sacking, her eyes closed. A weak cough added more blood to that on her chin and chest.

Climbing into the cart, he gently lifted her into his arms. "Meredythe, Meredythe, can you hear me?"

Slowly, as though with great effort, she opened her eyes. When they finally focused on his face, she smiled weakly. "Are you an angel? Have you come to take me to heaven?"

With a sob, heedless of the blood, he pulled her against his heart. "No, you can't die.

I won't let you."

"Give her to me and she won't," Rhys commanded.

Slade stood behind the older man, his arms crossed across his chest, a haughty smile on his face. "Yes, fool. Give her to the old man so he can save her for me. I can wait a few more years."

Hate leaping from his eyes, Bleddyn lifted his head and glared at his enemy. "You will never have her."

The large man threw back his head and laughed. Once he regained control of himself, he taunted, "You don't have the strength to defeat me, wolf."

Sliding out of the cart, he placed Meredythe in Rhys' arms and, unmindful of the crimson blood covering his chest, he stepped toward Slade, his teeth bared in a feral grin. Flexing his huge arms, Slade stepped forward.

"Hold, fools," Rhys commanded. "Think what you're about and where you are."

Both men halted as the clamor of the frenzied crowd intruded. Smoke from burning buildings now swirled about them. People shoved past them, disappearing into the darkness of the alley, seeking escape from the crowds and flames behind them.

With a low growl, Slade turned his attention to Rhys. "You're right...this time, old man." His gaze locked with Bleddyn's. "We'll meet again, wolf. Then I'll kill you and the girl will be mine." Turning, he melted into the crowd.

Bleddyn stared after him. "Why? He had her. Why did he give her to us?"

Rhys shifted Meredythe in his arms. Her head lolled against his shoulder. "She'll never live until the next full moon. He can't save her but hopes I can."

Bleddyn reached out and caressed her cheek. She coughed and more blood spurted from her lips. "She's getting weaker. Can you save her?"

"Even I cannot cure the plague," Rhys answered resignedly as she coughed up more blood. "I must take her into the flames."

Bleddyn closed his eyes and bowed his head. "More waiting."

"Fate has decreed it so, my son," Rhys answered gently. "Go now. I'll find you when she is born again."

Turning, Rhys disappeared into the thick smoke pouring through the alley. Bleddyn turned away. Melding with the crowd, he soon slipped through the gaping gates and strode toward the nearby forest. There, at its edge, black and gray mists merged.

Rhys faced the conflagration before him.

Meredythe struggled weakly in his arms. "Am I dead? Am I in h.e.l.l?"

Rhys looked down and smiled. "No, Meredythe. For you the fire offers sanctuary.

You will be able to rest and get well again.

"Tanau!" he barked, and the flames roared toward the sky. Then he stepped into the inferno.

Minutes later, those who trudged along the road to the edge of the forest crossed themselves as a mournful howl rolled out from beneath the dark trees.

Wrenching her eyes open, Meredythe stared at her ceiling and shivered. What in the world was going on? Why was she having these crazy dreams?

Turning onto her side, she propped herself up on her elbow and punched her pillow.

"Meeoow?"

She glanced at him.

Methuselah was lying in a beam of moonlight, paws tucked into his fluffy chest, smiling a Cheshire smile.

"What are you laughing at, you...you...cat? I bet you don't even get nightmares." Flipping back to her other side, Meredythe turned her back on him. As soon as she closed her eyes, he appeared-thick dark hair, smoky gray eyes, s.e.xy grin. Gritting her teeth, she flopped over again. d.a.m.n him. No wonder she was having nightmares. Between researching murders where guys had their throats torn out and being hara.s.sed by a guy who just happened to have the same color hair and eyes as the john the prost.i.tute described, no wonder she couldn't sleep.

Rising on her elbow, she punched her pillow and flipped it over. "When did it get so hot in here?" The silky nightgown she wore was plastered to her body.

She was hot.

She was sweaty.

She was h.o.r.n.y.

"Oh s.h.i.t."

Meredythe flopped onto her stomach. "I am not h.o.r.n.y. It's just hot. I don't give a d.a.m.n about any man!"

She rolled over onto her back and closed her eyes. Sleep. She needed to get to sleep.

She pulled her damp nightgown away from her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Her nipples ached.

She shifted restlessly.

Moisture seeped between her legs.

Her c.l.i.t ached.

She flopped onto her stomach again. "Okay, I'm h.o.r.n.y."

She rolled back over. Closing her eyes, she pulled her nightgown up to her waist. "Okay. Just a quickie."

Meredythe slid her fingers over her abdomen, nudged the crotch of her silk panties aside and brushed her aching c.l.i.t.

"Ahh. Yess."

She thrust her hips upward as her fingers seemed to take on a life of their own- swirling, dipping, rubbing. Her nipples tightened more and bolts of tingling pain seemed to burst from the tips. Moisture drenched her fingers as pressure built.

She arched her back.

A familiar face appeared in her mind. Black hair, gray eyes, hard body.

She slipped her fingers in and out of her c.u.n.t and pinched and rubbed her c.l.i.t. Body slick with sweat, she let her free hand drift up her rib cage underneath her nightgown to knead her breast then pinch her nipple. Tender pain surged straight to her groin. "Ahh!" She pumped her hips against her fingers.

In her mind, the dark-haired stranger smiled. His gaze urged her on.

When her o.r.g.a.s.m finally exploded, tears trickled down her cheeks.

"Ahh." Pleasure rolled over her as her internal muscles shuddered and rolled.

Slowly her muscles relaxed, her breathing slowed and the final shiver danced down her spine. She opened her eyes and sighed.

Even with her eyes open, he continued to smile at her.

A warm weight snuggled against her side and Methuselah's purr began to vibrate against her. After a long sigh, Meredythe relaxed and her tense muscles unwound. Her eyelids drooped. Soon she slept deeply.

A cold wind whistled through the alley, but Bleddyn didn't feel its bite. When a car pa.s.sed by, he stepped farther back into the shadows, but his gaze remained on the dark window of the fourth-floor apartment across the street. The sounds of footsteps and laughter approached and he melted deeper into the darkness, remaining deathly quiet as a couple pa.s.sed only a few feet in front of him. They were too engrossed in each other to notice him, which was just as well. The sight of a naked man hiding in the alley would undoubtedly have them calling the police.

Once they were gone, Bleddyn eased forward, his eyes searching. Earlier, Meredythe had appeared at her window and he'd barely been able to subdue the sudden urge to go to her and make her his. Thankfully, she'd disappeared and he'd been able to bring his longing for her under control. Closing his eyes, he again returned to Jim King's office yesterday when she'd stomped in, her eyes flashing with blue flames, her thick auburn hair curling riotously around her shoulders. He felt his body stir as he remembered the kiss they exchanged later, the kiss she'd answered with pa.s.sion as deep and wild as his own. Shuddering, he took a deep breath and opened his eyes. He needed her-now. The moon was full. He stepped forward.

An icy blast hurtled down the alley and enveloped him in its coils. His head jerked up and he spun around. The wind changed, but he remained still, nostrils flared as he searched for the elusive scent that had just challenged his senses.

Slade was in the city.

Black and gray mist swirled and a large black wolf loped back through the alley. Keeping to the shadows, he headed back uptown. After half an hour at a steady pace, he reached another dark alley. Again mist swirled. Reaching into a box waiting in the alley, Bleddyn retrieved his clothing. After he was dressed, he stepped out onto the street. His hotel was only two blocks away. He had to let Rhys know Slade was back.

The sound of gla.s.s smashing farther back in the alley reached his ears, but he ignored it. Slade was far more important than whoever was back there.

In the alley, the drunk who'd just witnessed Bleddyn's transformation curled into a fetal position and grabbed his half-empty bottle.

Bleddyn slammed the door closed. "Slade's here."