RedFire
Chapter 15
Shay stood, waiting. Watching him expectantly. Her question should have been an easy one: What and who was he, precisely? He’d already offered enough hints. Revealing the full truth was only one more step beyond. Yet the less she understood the odds in this battle—what they really meant to her and for him, for their future, too—the better.
“It’s only fair that you tell me,” she offered, her voice surprisingly gentle and patient.
“If I do that . . . if I confess it all . . .” Ajax raised his heavy arms out to his sides, gesturing to his full warrior’s body. “The demons might use that knowledge against you. Might try to get to me by using you. The less you know, Shay, the better.”
“My brothers have tried that maneuver on me my whole life, the protection routine. My mother, too, plus my dad, when he was still alive. You’ve brought me into this battle, so I need answers.”
“I saved you twice,” he reminded her, letting his arms fall back to his sides. “I never wanted you in this fight.”
“You of all people realize that ignorance has almost gotten me killed twice.” She held her hands out in frus tration, groaning. “If you were just gonna shelter me, then why in the world did you tell my brothers that it’s time to train me?”
“So you wouldn’t be unprotected,” he admitted roughly. “Because you do have a mighty calling, a role to fill as a huntress—just not in my current battle with Elblas.”
“But I was already part of it somehow, wasn’t I?” That thought had been nagging at her for the past minutes, a little kernel of an idea that had begun to bloom into full life the longer he refused to tell her the truth of what he was. Who he was.
He said nothing at all.
“Then who is Elblas to you?” she persisted. “That should be safe territory. Why does he despise you so much—and what was he talking about the other night in Bonaventure, what he said about your wife?”
He growled, baring his teeth. “I don’t talk about Narkissa.”
“Sable obviously does,” she snapped. “At least, if she’s the woman Sable was referring to.”
“You want to know about my wife?” Ajax hurled the words at her like an accusation, glaring. “You’re daring to ask about her? Oh, sweet mortal, you don’t know how dangerous that ground is.”
She wasn’t going to let his obvious pain or his theatrics daunt her. She kept her voice low and quiet. “Narkissa? That was her name?”
He didn’t answer, not the way she thought he would; his reply defied usual human speech. Almost as if in slow motion, he tossed his head back and released a piercing, shrill cry—an eerie sound that trespassed somewhere in those dark borderlands between beast and man.
Ajax pounded a fist against his breast, releasing a second agonized screech—one that was wrought with such loneliness and heartbreak, it instantly caused tears to fill Shay’s eyes. She’d spent a lifetime on land surrounded by all sorts of wild creatures . . . not to mention living with her two warrior brothers. But Ajax’s wounded cry had to be the most tortured sound she’d ever heard—from any being, human or animal.
Slowly Ajax bowed his head. He stood before her, ebony wings barely visible along his back, blazing torch clasped in one hand. Dark and light, evil and goodness, all the contradictions formed the man standing before her—a living Michelangelo sculpture.
He wants you to walk away; he’s trying to drive you away.
Shay hugged herself, struggling to chase the chill from her body. “He must’ve really hurt you,” she said. “Elblas, I mean.”
Ajax’s wings beat slightly at the air, an agitated mo tion that she’d already realized was a nervous twitch of his. After a moment he said, “I gave as good as I got. There was retribution.”
She kicked at a loose stone, wanting to seem casual. As if she could, as if anything about their interchange were mundane. “Did he go after her or something? Are you still married, Ajax?”
Blazing-bright eyes flashed upward, locking with hers. “I am bound to no one.”
Her brothers always said she never knew when to let something go, and this was probably going to be one of those times when she’d kick herself for not keeping her mouth shut. “Bound to no one . . . but you did have a wife? Narkissa.”
Before she could blink he was upon her, those wings high and threatening, his hands twisting cruelly. He grabbed her by the upper arms, sharp talons biting into her exposed flesh. With a slight shake of her shoulders, he glowered down at her. “Isn’t it enough that I already lost one good woman? And my sons? Don’t you see why I don’t want you to know the truth of me?”
She winced in pain at the force of his hold, at the light scratches his talons caused on her arms, but she didn’t budge or back down. She tilted her chin upward, meeting his otherworldly glare.
“The demons killed your family?” she persisted, her face flushing hot just from such proximity to his alien body. “But why was that because of you?”
His face, bathed in lightning, morphed like the rest of him. His nose lengthened, his eyes became beadier, and, although still human overall, he transformed into something fiercer than he’d been with her so far. The raptor had fully emerged.
His now deep set eyes swirled with glowing power. “They weren’t killed,” he said, the words a rasping noise along his transformed vocal cords. “They were taken . . . from me. Stolen . . . Elblas ripped them away.”
Extending his talons, he made a sweeping motion, tearing at the air between them. “Tore me out of their hearts.”
“That can’t be true,” she said, horrified. “I don’t understand.”
The talons flexed against her arm, their texture ridged and rough. Jax stared down at his transformed hands, seemingly surprised to see that they shook as hard as she did. Slowly he released his hold on her, dropping his head.
“Tell me, Ajax, please,” she urged, reaching out to touch one of his twisted talons. She kept her touch as gentle as possible, terrified that he might bolt away if she didn’t.
He jerked at the physical contact and turned his radiant silver eyes on her. “Elblas stole their memories—every memory they had of me. After our deaths, and days of fighting, I went to them, but it was too late.”
She blinked hard. “You’re dead?”
He screeched at her, his vocal cords tightening as his hawk form emerged. “I told you it wasn’t for mortals to know!” The wings spread high over his shoulders, bear ing down on both of them, and he seized her with his talons once again.
She winced as he tightened his hold. It took every bit of her willpower, but she tried to block out the surging image of his wings and the way they seemed to beat out his painful emotions. “You can’t be dead . . . you’re holding me right now. You’re physical and real!”
He continued, his hoarse voice an eerie monotone, eyes even beadier as he spoke. “He reached Narkissa before I could. She didn’t recognize me, and when she saw me in my true form it terrified her; it terrified my sons. I was no longer her husband, and no longer their father, just a horrific demon come to instill fear in their hearts. I knew eventually I would lose them to their mortality, someday, but I never even got to say good bye. . . .” He stared down at her with his mystical eyes; his talons still scraped her arms.
Lowering her voice, she planted both palms against his fiery chest. “How could Narkissa forget you, Ajax? You?”
Jax slowly released her, taking several steps back. His emotional outburst had filled his entire form with that odd, liquid power of his. Silver shimmers shone off his wings, outlining every line and detail of the feathers. They’d assumed a jeweled appearance, gleaming and glittering like icicles in sunlight.
He was exquisite.
The pulse and flow within him glowed like priceless diamonds. Or like a rare metal, only it flowed through him—visible in the veins at his neck, pulsing with every beat of his heart, and visible along his forearms, then particularly in his hands. He skimmed scalding palms over her shoulders, her arms. He simply loomed above her, towering to at least six-foot-six or -seven. Maybe even more.
“And even if she did lose her memories, how could she ever fear you? How could she help but fall in love with you all over again?” she whispered softly. She felt his heavy pain in the very center of her soul; it tore at her the way his talons could, shredding her heart into pieces.
In a single motion he covered her mouth with his, tilt ing her head back. He lowered her slowly in a grace ful arch, sweeping her within his hold. His warm tongue thrust into her mouth, demanding all of her, letting her know that he’d never accept less than completion. Trembling at first, she barely held to him. But as he twined his tongue deeper with hers, plumbing every bit of her warmth and wetness—and as she felt brazen talons scrape between her shoulder blades, she surrendered.
She slid her hands about his neck, combing fingers through his tangled, silken hair. It was shockingly soft, and she thought again of the light down that covered his groin. Bringing her fingertips between their two bodies, she made contact with his abdomen, stroking fingertips along the ridges of those taut muscles. They were insep arably close, but she had to feel all of him; the curiosity and desire was driving her to the brink.
Wedging her hand low between their bodies, she felt the first brush of hawk’s down, then traced the line all the way to his groin, where it thickened somewhat, spread wider, just as his pubic hair would have done.The feathers curled slightly beneath her fingertips, shockingly pliable, so soft—impossibly soft, just like the long black mane atop his head. For a moment she thought of how much more hawklike he’d become in the past moments—and wondered if he ever changed completely.
Those damned paintings of Leda and Zeus with his wings spreading her legs wide paraded through her mind, scalding her body, scorching her fantasies of being held in his arms.
She played her fingers through the tickling softness between his legs, her fingertips trembling at how unex pected that hawkish detail was—even though she’d already seen it with her own eyes earlier.
“You know, your body is just amazing, every bit of it so glorious, epic. You’re like something out of my dreams. Or my . . .” She let the words trail away; it couldn’t be true.
“I dreamed of you,” he whispered in her ear, carefully combing his talons through her hair. “You’ve always been in my dreams.”
She pressed her cheek against his bare chest. “I drew you the other night. After we met, but you weren’t frightening in the sketch, not like it felt that first night.”
“Each of us has been waiting for the other, yes?” His Greek accent had grown thicker, and she knew they were approaching something key to the very core of this warrior.
She closed her eyes, some unremembered dream tugging her below the moment’s surface, almost taking hold of her. Yes, she had dreamed of this man, just as he had of her. Many times, she was sure of it. She’d just never remembered it after waking.
“I dreamed of you, too,” she said, drawing in his scent. The freshest, most natural aroma bathed his body, washed over him and made her feel one with the winds, as one as he was when he flew. “I wonder why I never remembered until now?”
“It doesn’t matter, now that we’ve found each other.”
His monumental arms wrapped about her, but he kept his talons carefully away; those muscular arms felt like granite, his body a well honed weapon. For a moment she imagined how he used that body to destroy demons and evil creatures in the night, and the thought made her shiver with lust. His power and pure strength were downright erotic, the way they made her feel intoxicatingly hot.
She pressed her mouth against his right nipple, suckling it until he moaned a rasping sound of pleasure. Oh, yes, she wanted to purr back at him. I want to cause all your sexy sounds. Licking and tasting that nipple, she used her hand to arouse him even more. She smoothed her fingers across the light feathers between his legs, stroking his stretched cock at the same time. It was her turn to moan loudly in desire and need; the way he affected her was almost too much, and she began shaking as she closed her hand about his erection, stroking it gently.
Yet her fingertips were drawn back to the curling feathers that dusted his groin; over and over again she had to caress them, was compelled to feel that part of him that was transformed.
With a growl of deep pleasure, he shifted his hips to give her better access, spreading his thighs slightly. “You love the feel of me, don’t you, sweetness?”
She swallowed, not sure how to answer, driven to touch him over and over again.
“This down . . .” She swirled her fingers through it, loving the way it tickled and curled over her fingertips. “It’s like the last thing I’d imagine about you, these soft feathers here.”
He flashed a gorgeous, lopsided smile at her, clearly pleased with himself. That sexy dimple popped into view, too. “Now that I know how you like them, I’ll keep it in mind.”
“What does that mean?”
“The down feathers are for insulation. When I’m particularly cold, my chest is sometimes covered as well.”
“Oh, wow.” She felt her legs start to tremble. Don’t swoon. Don’t swoon.
He bent low and nipped her ear with his teeth. “Might come in handy on those chilly nights, when your human body needs warming. The brush of my wings, the thrilling softness of my chest feathers. I can see you wrapped within me, love. Feather and mortal skin blending as one. Yes, I see it. First one of my wings between your parted legs, then the other, caressing you to the realm of pure ecstasy.”
“When I touched your soft feathers, they didn’t burn me. So maybe I really can touch your wings.” She’d al ready begun reaching over his shoulder, hungry to make the intimate contact.
He captured her chin, forcing her to look up into his eyes. “The only reason my wings burned you before was because I didn’t want you to touch me.”
“Great. You meant to burn me. Wonderful.” She jerked her head sideways, forcing him to release her, but he wouldn’t have it.
With both hands he grasped her face, eyeing her hard. “I meant to keep you away,” he said softly. “That was then. I don’t want you to stay away, not anymore.”
She shook her head, pressing her eyes shut. “It’s all so absurd. None of this can be happening. Clearly I watched Flash Gordon and those Hawk Men too many times growing up. Someone must’ve gotten me stoned at the funeral the other day. That’s the only possible explanation for all of this. Well, of course, it doesn’t explain right now. . . .”
He jerked slightly. “Funeral?” His voice suddenly seemed very intense.
“My mama died. We buried her two days ago. At Bonaventure. That’s why I was there the other night. I just had to be there, with her somehow. Well, more than that—I saw demons in the cemetery during the funeral while I was singing.” Still Ajax studied her, his eyes nar rowed. She frowned back. “I don’t get why you . . . Why are you looking at me like that?”
His eyes drifted shut. “You should’ve told me, Shay. That you were grieving.”
“Yeah, we’ve had so much time for chitchat. Besides, I didn’t see how it was all that significant”—she slapped his chest, voice rising—“in comparison to a demon brawl!”
“They feed off that pain, Shay. That’s what Sable and his crew are like, how depraved. They’re probably still half drunk off what they siphoned from you in the cemetery. And again out on the street tonight. Or much more likely, they’re rabid and hungry for more of your suffering. Right now they’re already searching out an other taste of you, wanting to drink you dry. A huntress in emotional pain like that, Shay? It’s a feast to them. That’s how they were able to overtake you at the cem etery. You’re weakened and vulnerable to them because of your loss.”
She blinked up at him, trying to understand. “Isn’t it bad enough that I lost my mama?” she finally whim pered, feeling tears begin to streak down her face. All day she’d held it together. All the past few days, really, ever since her mama’s death.
He drew her into his arms again; she could feel the thunderous beat of his heart. The warm velvet of his chest became damp from her tears. “I understand, Shay anna,” he told her in a soft voice. “I do. It’s how Sable attacked me . . . all those years ago. How he used my own family against me.”
She let her eyes drift shut. “Because you were grieving?”
“Because losing them was the only thing I still feared in the universe.” Jax released her and, in a blink, transformed his appearance to a more appropriate one.
“I had no control yet.” He paced the length of the tunnel, wingless and dressed in his standard military attire, all black. “When I realized what had happened, that someone or something had manipulated my family’s minds, my grief overcame me and my true form emerged. My wings were so mammoth, alive, like they sometimes still are now. But back then they were new to me, a heavy ship on my back, mast and sail swinging wildly. I couldn’t retract them or be graceful, couldn’t bow them to my will. . . .” Ajax hesitated, the memories assailing him. “I can still smell the soup cooking on the fire, hear the clay pots I upturned, the crash of them on the tile floor.”
He winced, afraid to continue, but somehow he needed to tell Shay all of it.
“Imagine a feral hawk or eagle, suddenly in a very small house, wings untamed and flapping,” he confessed heavily. “The raucous sounds, the chaos. That feral raptor was me, with wings that gleamed like midnight and were the length of our kitchen table. Of course I was a demon to her. Narkissa—kept screaming and praying and flailing her arms. My twin sons, they were so small, so frightened. I can hear their cries as though it were hours ago, not centuries. . . .”
“When, Ajax? When did this happen?” Shay’s soft question called him back to the present, to the tunnel where they stood deep below Savannah. She had no context for any of what he shared; how could he expect that she would, someone so innocent?
Yet he’d begun his tale, and she needed to know.
“I was something right out of our people’s worst stories, their most sordid visions of what Hades might bring.”
“I don’t believe that could ever be true of you.”
“Do I look like a normal man to you? The sort you might encounter out on River Street? No, sweetness, I am not any sort of man you’ve ever encountered, gods help you.”
She backed against the wall, eyes widening. “The breastplate,” she said softly. “And your weapons, the spear . . .”
“Yes.” He smiled slowly, aching to touch her. Once she knew everything, what would be left to stop him?
Shay wrapped her arms about herself, shivering; he should have felt guilty for torturing her this way. For telling her the sordid details in such a cruel manner. But if he slapped her with the truth of his monstrous nature, the burden of his duties, perhaps she could still save herself.
Shaking so hard that her voice quivered, she never even opened her eyes. “So when you died, you became an angel? Is that what happened?”
Something broke inside of him right then, something he’d not even realized he’d been holding inside for such a long, long time. His eyes burned and his throat tight ened. “Shayanna.” By all rights she should be fleeing him now, but there she stood, tears streaming down her lovely face. “Shay,” he said hoarsely, “look at me. You are not Narkissa and you will not run; I know this, and so I’m trusting you.”
She bobbed her head, tears rolling down both cheeks. “I won’t turn on you, I promise.”
“No . . .you won’t, little mortal. I’m certain you won’t.” He reached a hand and stroked the tears away, loving her already. As he’d always been told he would. Ador ing her for her acceptance of every feather and wing along his back, for the vow he’d made with Ares, even though she didn’t know all its gruesome aspects yet. “Then I shall tell you who and what I am.”
Her eyes flew open, her lips parted, and she breathed, “I need you. I need to know.”
In a rushing wind of transformation his warrior’s chest filled out and his wings unfurled. His gleaming shield appeared in his left hand, a blazing sword in his right.
With two backward steps from her, he urged his form to change completely, growing, bulking from head to toe. When the alteration was fully complete, he presented himself to her proudly.
He knelt before her and offered himself to her as he would his very queen. “I am Ajax Petrakos, adopted son of Ares, immortal protector of humankind. A fallen warrior reborn in the flowing fire of Styx.” He paused, breathing heavily as he stared at her across the small distance that separated them. Her own eyes were wide, but not shocked, as he’d expected. “But all you have to know is one thing, Shay Angel,” he said, panting.
He thrust his shield high and raised his sword toward the ceiling. “I, Ajax Petrakos, am a Spartan!”
Wyszukiwarka
Podobne podstrony:
quin?81101129081 oeb?9 r1Blac?80440337935 oeb?8 r1de Soto Pieniadz kredyt i cykle R1Pala85515839 oeb toc r1mari?81440608889 oeb?9 r1Pala85515839 oeb?6 r1Thom?80553904765 oeb?4 r1knig?81440601187 oeb fm3 r1Bear53901087 oeb qts r1byer?81101110454 oeb?2 r1knig?81440601187 oeb?0 r1Lab2 4 R1 lab24anon?81101003909 oeb?6 r1Bear53901826 oeb p03 r1byer?81101086520 oeb?0 r1knig?81440601187 oeb?1 r1R1 1schw?81101134702 oeb fm1 r1więcej podobnych podstron