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Vampire Huntress - The Damned Part 37

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"Really?"

"Yeah," she murmured. "Concentrate."

He opened his eyes using the sense of sight, and stared at the awe-inspiring landscape. There was so much about Damali that was more spectacular than the mountains and contained just as much mystery. She'd healed another family, had healed theirs, too; the angels had given her their tears. He could still feel her gentle rhythm behind him. The wind still seemed to be her voice.

The colors now added a new level of awareness, and he definitely wondered how he'd been so blind? For all the ugliness in the world, the world was still going on. Here, sitting at the edge of heaven, never did he dream that both he and Damali would be alive in the same time and s.p.a.ce, sharing a yak blanket on the cliffs of nowhere, with stainless steel blades on their laps, watching sheep mate.

"You think the shepherds used to do this?" she murmured.



"Do what?"

She laughed softly. "Sit and try to feel all the elements of the universe while watching rams fight over flocks?"

"I supposed there's not much else to do up here, other than that," he said with a deep chuckle.

She liked the way his laughter rumbled through his body into hers. "We're not supposed to be talking," she said laughing.

"Shush, we're not talking," he said quietly, "we're whispering and laughing. Don't have Zang Ho come back up here and pop you in the head again."

He felt her body shake with giggles and knew she'd covered her mouth with her hand. He could see it without even seeing it, just like he could mentally envision her megawatt smile. Here he was supposed to be a Neteru, and all his senses had been so dull...

How did that happen?

"You have to go back to making music," he said softly as her giggles abated. "Writing poetry, singing, jamming with the band in the studio, or on the steps. Music is energy, harmonic chords that create positive vibrations. You know?"

"All right, Naksong," she murmured, a giggle in her voice, but with a deep tone of appreciation threaded through it. "I sorta got away from it, because it can be so all-consuming and I didn't want to shut you out."

"Baby, don't give up anything like that for me-music is part of your soul."

He felt her nod and closed his eyes and sighed.

"So are you," she said quietly.

"Same here," he murmured. "You know I would never, ever hit you," he said in the barest of whispers.

"I know you didn't hit me," she said, and then laughed softly, "but you slapped the s.h.i.t out of her."

He laughed. "I'm sorry. It scared me."

"You know that's only the second time in our lives you've admitted that?"

"You've never told me that," he said, his tone becoming mellow. "I wasn't sure how you'd react, if I ever told you something like that."

"Deep," she murmured. "Then I owe you an apology, because I've been scared as s.h.i.t for a long time."

"Get out of here, D."

"I'm serious."

He didn't answer for a while, but continued to feel and listen to her breathe.

"The Naksong was right," he finally said in a gentle murmur. "There's no reason we haven't been in sync. No matter come what may, nothing should ever get between me and you. Not even old flames... especially not that."

Again he felt her nod, but she said nothing. However, he did notice that her breathing hitched slightly and was no longer deep and even.

"You getting tired?" he asked, wondering if her legs were starting to fall asleep. Discomfort would be the perfect reason for her to tense; at least he hoped that's what it was and not 'what he'd said. He'd meant every word.

She slowly shook her head no, then took in a deep breath and held it for a second; he could hear her release it through her nose.

Then she leaned her head back, slowly, carefully, as though she were falling, and inhaled deeply again as the back of her skull fit against the curve of his neck. Either she was getting sleepy and didn't feel like keeping the rigid meditation posture, or she wanted to stand and move, like he did. He wasn't quite sure, so he gently tested by straightening his legs and then pushing his spine against hers.

Force met force, and there was enough trust that they wouldn't drop each other by pulling up in a sudden move. His knees bent and his feet pushed against the ground; so did hers, until they stood back-to-back, and turned at the same time. He went to the left, she cut her blade to the right, slow motions, moving clockwise and counterclockwise to each other's controlled moves, eyes closed, sensing the motion before it happened, knowing where the other would be, mirror images, moving faster.He could feel dampness coat his skin, tasted salt as he licked his lips and kept pace with her. The air was cool flowing through his hair; it had dampened, too. She smelled good; he knew where she was at every moment till time stopped, sound abated, nothing existed except the sound of her breaths.

He'd glimpsed her expression from the corner of his eye as they pa.s.sed each other in a blur of motion. His back slammed against hers. She froze and didn't move. Enough. Time to slow it down, slide back to the ground, and regain their breathing. He was so turned on that for a moment he couldn't will his knees to bend.

She waited, had caught the look on his face. Gooseflesh covered her arms beneath her sleeves. His eyes burned with pure silver light. His Neteru marking on his jugular glowed white hot. He was majestic swinging a blade under the sun. They had to sit down, they had to sit down, they had to sit down. All she had to do was simply bend her knees.

She did, and they buckled, causing him to almost plummet, then pause, wait for her, and continue the slow descent to the blanket, adding pressure to pick up the slack when her weight shifted. He was trailing pure male Neteru; she sucked in a huge breath and allowed the scent to coat her tongue and her insides. It was all in his sweat, mixing with rarified air, and flowers, and gra.s.ses, and rich, dark earth. She hit the blanket with a thud. He'd stopped breathing for a second. Her blade trembled in her hand, not from fatigue. She was one with the blade, she was one with the blade, she was one with the blade... She dropped it.

She heard another one thud as it hit the dirt.

"Listen, D-"

"I know."

"You think he's coming back anytime soon?"

"That old dude pops out of thin air," she said after a moment.

He nodded, and took in a huge breath of air. "Yeah, I know."

"I think we're synced up."

He nodded and swallowed hard. "Yeah."

She closed her eyes and opened her hand. His filled it, not the sword. He nuzzled her shoulder with his chin, slightly turning. She breathed him in with a shudder.

"You smell so good it doesn't make any sense." She opened her other hand and his filled it.

"I can feel your Sankofa, like it's burning right through your coat."

She squeezed her lids shut tighter. "It's climbing up my back, like you," she said hoa.r.s.e. She turned her arms inward, but didn't turn to face him as he wrapped them around his waist. She dropped her head back to touch his and pressed her knees together.

"You're apexing."

He nodded. "I know. I can barely breathe."

A shudder claimed him as her pulse quickened in his palms. Suddenly he could feel the gooseflesh on her arms. His mouth craved hers like a dying man craves water. It was beyond a thirst, it had become a necessity.

Every pulse point she owned lit within him, fusing his to hers, until he dropped her hands, spun, and took her mouth. His fingers found her hair, a sensation so missed that they trembled in the lush texture. Her skin, her gorgeous, rich cinnamon skin was alive, even the color of it was living heat beneath his palm as it caressed her cheek, and the sound she sent into his mouth made him cover her on the ground.His opened coat became one with hers, creating a double, moving, writhing blanket of hair and animal skin and bits of crushed flowers. Her voice m.u.f.fled his as he moved against her, fabric creating friction, heat, resonance on the wind. Sound echoes clashed with the distant, steady, rhythm of rams horns locking in to-the-death imperatives established at the dawn of time.

She looked up into solid silver irises, a safety net catching her before she fell, yet she was one with the elements; yes, free from fear and worry, a hand touched her face in gentle surrender. Hers was covering where a misguided blow had landed, echoing truth from the soul, I'm ready. Just say it. Her spirit understood the slap was for another. Truth permeated it all.

"I love you."

She closed her eyes and felt the brand on his jugular, the heat seal that said he was on her side and in the Light. "I love you, too,"

she whispered. "But with no intent to carry."

Just say it, her mind called out to him again. She looked into eyes that told her no matter what his mouth said, there was a fifty- fifty chance she'd get up from the encounter planted with life. "Just say it."

"I can't lie to you." His voice was hot and ragged against her ear. "My intent is shaky."

She squeezed her eyes shut. "You're apexing, you know what that means."

He nodded and covered her mouth again, his tongue tangling with hers until she gasped and broke the kiss. "Don't make me make promises I can't keep."

Truth vibrated within his words, truth resonated within her soft moan. Layers of wool now seemed a divide as vast as the mountains surrounding them. Each peeled-away, pushed-up bit of cloth sent shivers. Touched torsos burned skin-to-skin, quaked backbones in jagged shudders. Hands worked fastenings to open hidden caverns and close gaps within the fabric of the universe, still held within the fabric of wool and jeans. Legs shackled to the knees in pants that stopped at boot tops contributed to a blackout-level frustration to connect. Blinding pleasure, wet slide hard arching one with lightning arcs; unsettling nesting birds now taking flight due to the cosmic, disturbance.

If he had only known what it would have been like to apex in her arms, he would have never wasted time taking a walk on the dark side. Every touch she landed exploded pure white-light pleasure beneath her smooth caress till it went down to his marrow and resurfaced on his skin. She hunted sensations, trapped them, and knew just where to send them to climb up his shaft.

Oh, G.o.d, yes, this woman knew... Her hands knew him; she siphoned truth in unintelligible groans of consent. Yes, she could suck pleasure from every pore, making rain with his sweat, hard thunder from his voice, then evaporate it all in a hot-steam bath-she knew how; she knew all. It was her right to open up the heavens and transform stone into pliable clay. She could take his rib and create whatever she wanted, just so long as she didn't stop taking him into her... and she knew that.

The old man was wrong; he knew the questions to ask. He just couldn't get them out between sobs. Oh, d.a.m.n... She was an element, hot wax, fire, oil. You didn't ask the elements, you begged them... paid homage, made sacrifices, lit b.u.t.ter lamps, left gifts, and prayed hard. Yes, she was one with the universe; he was one with her. Elements fused with known hysteria, because his woman knew him so well... s.h.i.t. She felt so good; he knew everything but his name. She knew the hidden mysteries within, and had opened the door to transformation when she'd opened her warm thighs, and allowed him to pour himself into her.

The moment he entered her, she knew. She couldn't breathe. Her hands molded the curve of his a.s.s; she knew the muscle cords under his skin like she knew her name. She knew his rhythm, his pulse, knew so fully that the tips of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s stung with remembrance. She knew the thick sinew that created leverage within his thighs, pushed his knees against the earth, sent his hot, staccato pant through her system, chasing deep, subsonic moans up from his diaphragm.

Oh, G.o.d, yes, she knew those slightly rough hands splayed wide across her back and behind, a mouth harsh and tender, b.u.t.ter tea sweetened with salt, yet never bitter. Yes, she knew this man from all imposters, knew him before he stuttered her name, knew how he fused Spanish and English when he was near the edge... and knew this time he couldn't thread together a sentence to save his life.His energy was wrapped around her like his earthy, fabulous, aphrodisiac scent. That's how she knew how to move with him, against him; knew that this apex was making him sob, fight a losing battle with control; it had stolen hers, made her careless, even though they both knew the consequences. There was never any question when her voice rent the air. They both knew a bite was coming that wouldn't break the skin, but would send ribbons of colors to spiral behind shut lids.

Rites of pa.s.sage, rites of spring... seasons blurred. Too much time had gone by, yet not enough time remained in the world. This man, her man, had synced up with every element in the universe. He brought pure thunder to her valley, sudden lightning strikes of pleasure, then rained hard within her, and made her want to be mother earth. For him she would be whatever-she didn't care. Everything within her converged on their sacred central joining... his touch, his voice, his ragged breaths, his scent and sweat, until her internal heaven opened and poured forth all she had with her tears.

Yeah, she knew quite clearly that they were both infected... infected with each other... That's what had them amid the cliffs losing their minds.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

Breathing hard, sitting back-to-back, they kept their eyes closed and tried to pull themselves together before Bonpo Master Zang Ho, the Naksong, returned.

They heard him before his tiny little feet hit the ground. They knew he was scowling as he swished around them in a circle. It was not necessary to open their eyes.

"So!" their teacher said crisply. "It is near sunset. Have you aligned your energies?"

Damali felt a smile creep over her face and connect to Carlos's. "I think so," she said and offered him a slight bow by tilting her head down while she kept her eyes closed. If she looked the old man in the face, she knew her eyes would tell all and she'd burst out laughing.

"And you?" the master snapped to Carlos's.

"Oh, yeah..." he said, his voice slow and mellow. "I'm real straight."

For a moment, the Bonpo master didn't respond. He paused, fidgeted a bit, and then began walking again. "Good. Then would you care to demonstrate what you have learned?"

Damali's eyes popped open, she could feel laughter rising within her and connecting to a belly laugh swirling within Carlos. He broke before she did, and it was all over. He fell on his side and shook his head. She tried to keep her stoic facade, but it crumbled and gave way to gales of laughter.

"No, man," Carlos said, wheezing through heavy bursts of laughter. "Some secrets are not to be revealed."

The Naksong walked away and stood with his arms folded. "The swords," he said in a peevish tone. "In your hands. Now!"

"All right, all right," Carlos said, recovering and trying not to smile. "My apologies." He pushed himself to sit up and pressed his spine to Damali's again. He closed his eyes, laughter still erupting intermittently. "On three, baby."

"I got you," she said, unable to swallow away the mirth.

Carlos opened his hand at the same time Damali opened hers, and a sword appeared in both of their palms.

Shocked, they both stared down and marveled.

"That was deep, D," Carlos whispered.

"I know," she said, turning her wrist so the blade caught the setting sun.

Zang Ho rubbed his beard and allowed a half smile. He glanced at Carlos and then began walking. "Your eyes are silver," he said coolly. "I take it that you have been properly realigned."

"Master Zang Ho," Monk Lin said, bowing deeply as the party of three approached the small settlement camp.

Zang Ho frowned and returned Monk Lin's deep bow. "I am done teaching for a lifetime," he fussed as he stood with folded arms. "Incorrigible. Nondisciplined. Unorthodox. Slow to learn!"

"The oxen are slow, master. But the earth is patient," Monk Lin said with a quiet smile.

"They are ready," Zang Ho said begrudgingly, as he eyed Carlos and Damali, and then the rest of their team. The old master walked back and forth in front of the group, which was a.s.sembled before a large yak-haired tent. He glanced down at the ammunition trunks on the ground. "It was wise of you not to put innocent nomad protectors at risk."

"Yes, revered one. We let them know our approximate location, but have moved our team away from their campgrounds... just in case." Monk Lin smiled and kept his eyes lowered.

"He is apexing," Zang Ho snapped, pointing at Carlos as he walked away. The old man spun and folded his arms again, stopping his agitated movements. "Correction. Apexed. Past tense."

Monk Lin nodded and gave the Bonpo master a slight bow. "I know, esteemed master. We heard it echo through the glen."

She was done. She must have packed and unpacked and checked and rechecked artillery a hundred times, and there still wasn't a good place to keep her line of vision. She wasn't trying to see a single smile or smirk. She didn't want Carlos to say a word to her to make it any worse. Oh, my G.o.d, if her team had heard all that... no wonder the nomads had picked up tents and rolled.

Damali kept her eyes on the steel blade she was polishing. She'd begged silence in order to so-called concentrate. When she did speak, it was strictly business. Monk Lin, thankfully, was as discreet as ever, and worked at distributing night gear with Rider, whose expression remained unreadable. But Inez's glee was wearing her out. No, she was not discussing this with her girl. Not!

Conversely, Juanita still issued glances that could cut metal. Now that was one heifer that had better stay out of swing range- she was in no mood. Jose remained aloof. d.a.m.n. But that was cool. Had to be that way. Big Mike kept nodding to himself and showing off his silver-spiked hiking cleats while wearing a huge smile, and joking about kicking demon a.s.s till it sizzled. He wasn't fooling a soul; Big Mike needed a diversion to allow him to belly laugh at something so they wouldn't take direct offense.

Bottom line, though, Mike was all in their business. That was working her nerves to the bitter end. Bobby and Dan just seemed to walk around b.u.mping into each other, all nervous, while Krissy and J.L. couldn't get out of each other's faces.

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Vampire Huntress - The Damned Part 37 summary

You're reading Vampire Huntress - The Damned. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): L. A. Banks. Already has 456 views.

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