Mythe - Mythe And Magick Part 14

He grinned slightly. "Non." He frowned, shook his head. "No. Only touching you. I need to be touching you, thinking of you to see your thoughts." A wolfish grin slashed across his face and he added, "Touching you evermore will be making thinking difficult, I fear. Sweet, hot little thing..."

Pepper swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. Hadn't the water been warm a few minutes ago, a few seconds ago? Why did it suddenly feel so cool? Staring into his slanted, blacker than black eyes, she felt as through she were falling, drowning, flying all at the same time. His lids lowered, his lashes veiling his eyes and she felt as through a spell had been broken. "You need your rest, pretty mine," he said roughly, his wide shoulders lifting in a sigh. "And talking, we must be. You are wanting to know what is...going on?"

Going along with his obvious attempts to guide the conversation to safer topics, she decided to have a question answered. "How do you know English?" she asked. "French? Are those the languages spoken here?"

"Several of your tongues, I know. English, as you say. French, Spanish, some Deutsch. A bit of Portuguese. The Gate opens to places where these tongues are spoken. I have a...talent for languages, so easy it was to learn when a refugee came through the Gate. Some who speak like you, though not well, I fear. The words tangle my tongue. And many who speak French." His eyes got a bit distant and he didn't seem to seeing anything. "Lorne...my woman, she wished-non...no reason to...how feel you?"

Pepper frowned. What had he been going to say? Lorne? His woman. The one who had died. He was so sad. But something inside her said that wasn't his normal state. There was laughter, love, and light locked inside him. Forcing her melancholy away, she fluttered her lashes at him and teased, "I'm not sure. Should you come and feel me and see?"

His eyes heated and a reluctant grin crept across his face. "Minx is what you are," he said, shaking his head again. "Devil woman." He took something from his side and rose, coming around the pool and sitting behind her. "Clean you up. Before you tempt me beyond all reason." One hand slid down her wet shoulder and closed over her breast, rolling her nipple into a tight, hard bud while he lowered his head and whispered darkly, "Many things I wish to do, and show, to you. If you are still wanting me, after we talk, then we will be starting. I promise you that, sweet Pepper."

A few moments later, she was sighing in pleasure as strong hands ma.s.saged her scalp and washed her thick, heavy curls. Forget the hair salons when you get back home, Pepper. They will never measure up to this, she thought as his hands urged her to slide forward and lean back so he could rinse her hair.

She frowned slightly at the odd little sensation low in her belly as she thought of home.

Going home would mean...leaving Arys.

She watched nervously as he prowled the house. No, is-something or other. Is...is...iskita. Iskita. That was what he had called it. She wore something of his, a long flowing white shirt that fell to her knees. It was practically transparent and probably not worn much, because his scent clung to it only faintly, but since she didn't have any clothes...and besides, it was his.

Something was bothering him.

"Out with it, Arys," she finally said, fidgeting a little with the flowing lace on one of the cuffs. Then she shoved her hair out of her face and met his eyes when he stopped pacing and turned to stare at her broodingly, crossing his arms over his chest. He had donned some clothing, of a sort. Loose breeches, held around his waist by a drawstring. It hid the pelt of hair that started right below his navel. She felt a fine tremble run through her as she recalled how those strong, muscled legs, that silken hair had felt against her last night and this morning as he had loved her. And it had felt like loving, not like, well, just s.e.x.

Of course, she hadn't ever done it before, so maybe she was just confusing the two.

d.a.m.n it, but she loved looking at him. His sable hair fell halfway down his back, in straight, silky tresses that she had buried and tangled her hands in only hours ago. It spilled over shoulders wide and strong and proud, sculpted with firm, delineated muscles, as were his arms and his chest. His skin was a swarthy, coppery gold, and a lean, flat belly tapered down to his hips and groin where the fine dark pelt of fur started. His hips, narrow and slim, his a.s.s, and his legs, save for the pelt of hair, were exactly like a human's-perfectly formed-until right at his knee, when they curved back and arched, then down into the cloven foot.

Long, lean, and perfect, just looking at him made her heart hurt, and her body ache, itching to touch.

"Does what you see disturb you?" he asked, his voice soft, silky, menacing.

She shook herself, realizing she had been staring at him. Again. Lifting her eyes, she smiled softly, and said, "No. What I see fascinates me, seduces me, and enthralls me. You're the most beautiful man I've ever seen in my life."

That seemed to take him aback a little. A frown turned his mouth down.

"You don't smile enough, satyr," she said softly, walking across the distance that separated them and pressing her finger to his mouth. "So serious. Have you always been so serious?"

"Non. Not always serious," he said slowly, grasping her wrist. Staring into her eyes, he slid her finger into the hot, wet cave of his mouth and sucked it, stroking it with his tongue, then withdrawing it in a slow, subtle caress. "But laughter has been gone from me, long has it been gone."

When he released her hand, Pepper spread them both in front of her and formed a glittery, silvery ball of light, pleased that even though she was not in her world, the magick was still there. "Do you know I was a baby when I first found my magick? It was bad, though. Very bad. I first tried this when I was five, in front of my parents." The ball grew bigger and bigger, and as it did, Arys realized there was water inside, or the illusion of it.

And the illusion of fish.

"They wouldn't let me have a pet. Said I needed to be a little bigger and understand responsibility. So I told them I was a witch, and I could make my own, and it would be the biggest and bestest fish bowl in all the world-"

And the results were, as she planned, exactly the same now as they had been twenty years ago. The silvery fish 'ball' exploded, the illusory water spilling out and the power of her illusion making them both appear to be wet and soaked, the sheerness of her shirt making her look as though she wore nothing. The 'fish' faded away to nothing, because the trauma of watching her 'pets' die had hurt, even though her mother had a.s.sured her they weren't real.

A deep, rough, startled chuckle escaped Arys' lips without him realizing it as the fish 'ball' broke over them. She gave him a mock pout, even though hearing him laugh made her want to dance. "Oh, go ahead and laugh about it. You've no idea how frustrating it was, being such a talented, awkward little witch. Mama and Daddy were at their wits end trying to deal with me. When I was eight, I decided I wanted a pony..."

He smiled as he moved closer and cupped her b.r.e.a.s.t.s through her 'wet' shirt. "You are trying to distract me, pretty mine," he murmured, rocking his hips against her belly, sliding his hands down and around to cup her b.u.t.t and lift her against him.

Smiling flirtatiously, she said, "Did it work?" as the 'water' just dried away from them, leaving her shirt as opaque as it was going to get. She stared up into his eyes, reaching up to cup his cheek. "You've got sad eyes. I don't like seeing anybody sad. But it hurts my heart to see you sad. Why is that? Yesterday morning, I didn't even know you, didn't know anything about this place..."

His mouth cut off her words as he kissed her hungrily, almost desperately, his fingers biting into her a.s.s as he lifted her up, one arm under her b.u.t.tocks bracing her weight, the other hand burying itself in her damp hair.

She was suddenly adrift when he set her on her feet and stalked away.

"You fell through the Gate. You were using your magick, trying to open it. Succeeded, you would have, and soon. Such power you have inside you," he said, biting the words off as though they hurt his throat. He stood across the room, his hands at his sides, curled into loose fists. "The Gate is mine to watch. A...friend sensed a disturbance and we went to see. We saw you.

"The Gates open to allow refugees, we call them-those who are hurt, desperate, or in danger-to enter our world from yours. Usually children who are gifted, like you, and who are treated harshly or cruelly by their kin. Battered, abused women find the Gates as well. Sometimes those who fall into the death-sleep fall through the Gates. We do not understand them completely, no, we do not.

"Guard them, we must. Some strong black magick workers can use the blood of the Gate watchers to force it open and slip through from our realm into yours. But such an act causes pain and death in our world, and disasters in yours, disruptions in your nature. Those who try, we kill. The Gate opens when it chooses-we do not allow it to be opened by force."

With those final words, he jutted his chin out at her.

Daring her to speak.

"So basically, you're telling me I'm stuck here."

Chapter Five.

Arys watched as she slid through the door, watched as she walked to the stream and settled at the edge, her face somber and serious. Handled that well, didn't I?

A familiar, gentle touch on his mind and he glanced out the window and saw a shining white-and-gray form. Faryn whickered softly. I smell a woman, and s.e.x.

Go away, meddlesome unicorn.

Is that any way to talk to somebody who is trying to help you attain what you desire most?

What I desire most is to stop this infernal hurting- You were hurting even when you were with Lorne. She kept you warm at night, but she was not your true mate. I pity you the loss of your babe, truly I do, Arys. But while Lorne did love you, she did not accept what you are, she was not a helpmate. This one will be. He nodded his head toward the stream. And more than a helpmate, truly. She has the heart of a warrior. A heart like your own. Arys, we have trouble coming. We feel like it, in our hearts. The Watchers feel a darkness in the world. You are bound to the earth. Do not tell me you have not felt it.

"You expect me to believe that sweet, pretty little thing is a warrior witch?" Arys scoffed, shaking his head. "Fool's dreams, you are telling me. She's like a faerie, making rainbows dance and..."

Forgotten your history, have you? Remember the Legion Wars? The Faeries made the forest of Asmere run red with the blood of their enemies, Faryn said, his 'voice' dropping to a soft throb that lingered just behind Arys' eyes. Even the meekest creature will turn into a demon if it is provoked. But she is not meek. She may look sweet, but she is no mild, easily cowed little mortal.

No. Not easily cowed, not meek. She sat, shoulders straight, legs crossed, head back so that her hair billowed down her back in a banner of red curls, her eyes trained on the leaf-dappled sky. Her hands were clenched into small fists that she held in her lap.

She would never be going home.

Roughly, Arys said, "I did not handle it well, the telling. I...I handled it badly. Very badly. She could force the Gate to open if she wanted to. None of us here have the power to stop her. Daklin and the elves could keep her from trying, perhaps, with the power the enchanted kingdoms hold inside them. Ronal could hold her mind sway, but only if she were inside his lands, under his power. And either he or Cray could mayhap seduce her-"a growl trickled from Arys' throat before he could stop it and his nails bit into his hands as he fisted them, the veins bulging out in his forearms as fury raced through him.

"I have only the magick being the Gatekeeper gives me. And simple earth magick any satyr can call. But nothing that could bind hers and keep her from leaving, should she try. And I could never harm her."

She will not try. Faryn whickered and tossed his head. Her own honor will stop her. Opening a Gate forcefully would not harm one, but many. She would never try to harm an innocent, and she believes you. She may well question you further, but she believes you. Amus.e.m.e.nt flowed from the 'corn's eyes as the stallion slid Arys a narrow look. And besides...neither an angel, fallen or otherwise, nor a vampire are any better at seduction than a satyr, no matter what the tales may say. She is already enthralled with you, and well you know it.

Enthralled? Arys slid the 'corn a wry glance and muttered, "Not b.l.o.o.d.y likely. When she meets the other Pillars, then we will see enthrallment. Right now, she's enjoying her first bit o' s.e.x. When she sees the fallen black angel, or when Ronal lays his eyes on her and decides he wants to see if she's a tasty bit, or when the elf wants to take her to the elf kingdoms for magick training, then we shall be seeing enthrallment, and she'll give me nary a glance."

And the jealousy was already eating a hole in his gut.

Whirling, he stomped across the iskita and slammed his fist into the wall, then rested his forehead against the wall as he pulled his fist through the shattered wood, dark violet blood trickling down his swarthy skin. "I will never have her, Faryn, and I want her so badly," he whispered to the fae creature just outside.

Faryn's answer was merely a soft, comforting whicker, and then he was gone, his silvery hooves silent on the floor of the Satyr's Wood. Closing his eyes, Arys said softly, to whoever might be listening, "You should not have given her to me, not for just a while. If I cannot keep her, then this is just cruel."

He heard a familiar chiming and turned to see the black mirror on the opposite wall gleaming. He crossed to it and moved his marked hand over it, sighing as he did so. He had little patience for politics now but something told him he was going to have to handle them. The opaque blackness of the mirror cleared and he met Daklin's eyes, clear and blue as the summer sky, set in an ivory-pale face. His familiar, handsome face was lit with amus.e.m.e.nt and his eyes were glowing with it.

"You are in such trouble, my friend," Daklin said, his voice lilting and musical. His silvery-blond brows peaked and he clucked his tongue. "The Council doesn't take well to their orders being ignored."

"Tell that to the Gates. I have no control over when they choose to open-tell that to the b.l.o.o.d.y Council," Arys said, plowing a long-fingered hand through his hair, unaware of how agitated he looked to his longtime friend.

Daklin's eyes widened. "A refugee? A child? Do not tell me we have another broken, wounded one to heal, Arys, please. My heart canna handle another so soon," he begged, recalling the last child, a tiny girl of only five. Her father-no, he was not going to think of that. Her father had gotten his just reward, not what he deserved, no punishment was great enough. But he had reaped what he sowed. Even though they couldn't cross the Gates, magick could cross them...and did.

"No. Not a refugee. A...a witch," Arys said slowly, turning to stare out the window. Pepper was just barely visible from this angle, her head bent low as she stared into the water, her expression pensive. What is she thinking?

"A witch? From the mortal realms? Did she open the Gates?" Daklin asked, moving closer and craning his neck. He couldn't cross the mirror, but he could d.a.m.n well see. His blue eyes narrowed as he caught sight of the female and ...how very little she wore. "Hmmm, do tell," he purred in elvish.

"Nay, she did not open the Gate. The Gate opened for her," he said quietly. "I believe in time, she could have opened it. But it opened for her."

"Why? Is she in trouble? Is she needed?"

"Trouble? No."

"Needed?" Daklin persisted.

"Aye," Arys said, reaching up and absently stroking one horn. "Needed, aye."

"For what?" Daklin said, rolling his eyes. The satyr was usually not so...reticent.

Arys turned slowly and lifted his troubled eyes to meet the elf's. "Needed for me, I think. The unicorn Faryn says she is here for me."

Daklin looked stunned. Briefly. Very briefly. Very little made an elf pause. Then slowly, a wide, wide smile curled his mouth. "Then why in the name of all the h.e.l.ls are you looking so grim? By this elf's eyesight, which is pretty sharp, might I add, she looks...delicious."

Arys gave Daklin a narrow look. "Why in the f.u.c.k would a human wish to mate for life with a b.l.o.o.d.y satyr?"

Daklin lifted one brow. "And why, by the Father and the Heavens, would she be brought here, for you, if she wasn't likely to do just that?" the elf replied easily. He nodded in the direction of the stream. "She is done with her pondering, I believe."

"You're a satyr, Arys, as you were always meant to be. That is not a b.l.o.o.d.y monster. You are a good and true friend, a good man. By the blood, man, a satyr is s.e.x incarnate, not a demon, a troll, or mongrel whelp-do not listen to what some small-minded bigots still believe. You are known as friend among the elves and humans and the watchers. That should count as more than what bigots believe."

Daklin touched his fingers to the mirror from his rooms at the Council, and the mirror blackened once more, just as Arys heard Pepper moving toward the door.

"Did I hear voices, besides yours I mean?" she asked quietly, poised at the threshold.

"Oui...yes. A friend," he said, gesturing to the mirror. "We...ahh...speak through the mirror."

"Through the Looking Gla.s.s," she said with an odd little smile. "Now I really feel like Alice. I just need a blue dress and a white ap.r.o.n."

"I will find some clothes-"

"I was being a smart-a.s.s. It's a book from home about a girl who falls through a mirror into another world, or something like that. I read it a long time ago," she said, moving closer and peering at the mirror with curious eyes. "I can't say I'm happy about this. There are things at home that are important. Friends I will miss. I'm mad. I can't lie about that. And I want to throw a temper tantrum but odd things happen when I do that. So I'd appreciate you showing me a safe place where I can have at it."

When he looked, really looked, he could see the gleam of temper well-hidden in her two-colored eyes. Her cheeks were high with color, and her eyes were snapping with it.

"I...I sense there is something else...?"

"Yes. A but. There was a 'but'. Going back-even before you told me I couldn't-going back meant something that made me feel a little sick inside. I didn't like the thought of never seeing you again," she said looking at him squarely, lifting her chin. "I hated the thought of never seeing you again. I don't even know you. How can I already feel that way?"

Arys couldn't answer. He had already backed her up against the wall and, with a groan he grabbed her around the waist, covering her mouth with his, thrusting his tongue into the sweet well, gathering her taste and reveling in it as his strong agile hands ripped the shirt from her lovely little body.

Pepper gasped with shock as she felt him lift her and pierce her, driving his c.o.c.k home even as his hands were spreading her thighs, lifting them, guiding them around his waist as his c.o.c.k forged through the tight, swollen tissues of her p.u.s.s.y.

The silken pelt of his lower body caressed her thighs, driving his thick length inside as he pushed home again, and again, while his mouth ate hungrily at hers.

His c.o.c.k pulsed inside her, throbbed and swelled as his head lifted and his eyes met hers. "Say it, Pepper. Pretty mine. Again, will you tell me? That you do not wish to leave?"

Gasping for air, she whimpered, "I can't leave. You're part of me."

She felt her control slipping. On her temper. And her magick. Hot licks of l.u.s.t flooded her, and little bursts of power were starting to leak. Plumes of smoke and mist filled the room. Rainbows danced around the ceiling. And the floor trembled. His mouth left hers and he moved down her neck, biting and licking as he went and driving his c.o.c.k high and hard, the thick, rounded head rasping over the nerve bed high inside her p.u.s.s.y.

Fire...the heat of it flooded her magick senses and she dampened it, sent it into the fireplace. She heard the m.u.f.fled roar of it and sobbed with frustration at not being able to lose control completely. Arys sensed something held in check and he growled in warning, setting his teeth into the curve between neck and shoulder, looping his arms under her knees, opening her wide, and pounding into her hard and furiously, sliding his swollen, throbbing length into the slick wet channel of her p.u.s.s.y as her head fell back and she screamed out his name.

Her control slipped, shattered, and she wailed, forcing the wild magick into something she hoped was relatively harmless, hearing the wild booming noises, familiar from childhood, as Arys thrust heavily inside her, his teeth marking her before he moved his mouth up to hers in a line of bruising, biting kisses that stung like fire along her sensitized flesh.

Mine...

Mine...

Mine...

She felt the alien caress on her mind and shook from the absolute possession, the absolute utter need she heard there. His body shifted against hers, and he dragged himself against her c.l.i.t, his chest caressing the peaked flesh of her nipples and she broke as he rasped against her lips, "Mine..."And it was echoed inside of her...no matter how angry she might be about being uprooted from her home, her life-what life had she had there really? Looping her arms around his neck, she fiercely whispered back, "Mine."

She sobbed as the tightening in her womb overtook her and broke over her body, rhythmic pulsing sensations in her sheath milking his c.o.c.k as he started to pump her full of his seed.

Smoke, sulphur, mist and rainbow lights filled the air around them as he opened his large, slanted eyes long moments later, slowly letting her slide her legs to the floor. In a gesture that was slowly coming to be familiar to her, she watched as he absently brushed his hair out of his eyes, and stroked one of his curved, slightly spiraled horns, studying the slowly fading, flickering lights.

"I thought...the earth moved. It truly did." A slow smile tugged at his mouth.

She sulked. "Told you I was mad. I can't control my temper and...hmmm, well."

An all-out grin lit his impossibly exotic face as he pulled out of her and moved just a few inches away. "Disappointed, am I. Wanted badly to make the earth seem to move for you," he said teasingly. "And here you go, making it well and truly move." A thoughtful look came over his face. "You make me as once I was. As I am meant to be."