Dark Dealings (12 page)

“You gave your virginity to an elemental.” He tilted her chin up and she willed herself to hold his gaze. Inner fire streaked across the gold of his eyes. “The mages know what that means.”

Her mouth pressed together and irritation added an edge to the calm. She tried to wriggle free, but his arm pinned her to him. And wriggling? With him still firmly inside her? She held
hard
to her vexation. “What? What the fuck have you done to me?”

He brushed a strand of her hair from her face and she twitched. “You’ll want me. Ache for me.” His mouth curved upwards and Ava hated the way her belly clenched, because she knew he’d felt it. “Curiosity made me fuck you, little thief. What it would be like to take someone of the old magic. And a virgin. Reist couldn’t have handed me a more tempting offer.”

His hand caressed her shoulder and ran the length of her spine. Ava curved into him as if she were his
pet.
She shut her eyes, wanting to deny it, but his hot palm on her backside, the easy play of his fingers was simply...delicious. She had to stop him. This wasn’t the plan. They fucked, Fallon would realize that she was a fool for giving up something as glorious as sex with Heyerdar, and Reist would find solace in
her
. She
had
to stop him.

“Is that what you are? A device of the Right Hand?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I am, Heyerdar.” She tried for sarcasm, but his hips where moving in a slow,
slow
rhythm against hers, and a new pulse of need opened. “I did all this to get power over you.”

His laughter was a low, dark rumble. “I was your first. You gave yourself willingly. I have power over you.”

One thought swirled through her brain before it sank into lust. Her mouth moved. “And that’s why you couldn’t keep Fallon.”

For a moment darkness touched his face. Her stomach hollowed. Whatever happened with Fallon was obviously still not hers to know. His mouth touched hers and a growl warmed her lips. “Time to bind you harder to me, little thief.”

Chapter Eleven

“What are you doing?” Heyerdar leaned in the doorway, his arms crossed over his bare chest. The light from the fire behind him flickered against his skin.

Ava willed herself to look back at the little cart and the carefully stacked eight books. “I need to know what they’ve kept from me.”

“You chose
books
over me?”

“You were asleep.”

“I was catching my breath.”

Ava bit back a smile. Damn it, she was not growing to like him. She lifted the first of the books from the cart and shrugged the woolen blanket around her shoulders. She shuffled away and focused a thought. A roll of fire burst within the darkened hearth, its glow and heat warming her skin. She was brimming with magic. It was...wonderful.

Light flickered around the worn leather wings of Heyerdar’s high-back chair. She wanted Heyerdar. Her body still ached to have him. Yet she had to sit and read and no doubt curse the mages well into the night. She had to grab at her only chance to know more.

Heyerdar frowned at her. “Where are you going?”

“I’m reading. In this chair.”

“Bed.” He crossed the short distance, planted heavy hands on her shoulders and steered her back towards the bedroom. “Now.”

“I’m still reading.”

He leaned into her, his lips brushing her ear. “Think I can’t resist you?”

Ava closed her eyes, allowing his warmth, the scent of him, the swirl of magic, to wash around her. They’d had sex three times since she’d reached out to Fallon, each release just for her, catching her in hot gold and fierce joy. She was allowing herself the night to enjoy him, not to think about anything but the pleasure they could share.

She winced at a prick of guilt. That she was happy to forget Reist after Heyerdar stuck his dick in her.

His heavy hands cupped her shoulders. “Work...then I make you scream my name till you’re hoarse.”

“Boasting?”

He pulled back the heavy blankets and waited for her to climb onto the high bed. “I am always thorough.”

Ava settled back against the headboard, the thick velvet of the surrounding curtain brushing against her bared shoulders. Heyerdar piled the rest of the books on the bed, climbed in beside her, arranged blankets and found a book. It was all disturbingly...domestic.

Heyerdar lifted an eyebrow. “I am not domestic.”

She glared at him. “How do you do that?”

He gave her the slow smile that heated her blood and made reason almost impossible. His eyes gleamed. He was very aware of the effect he had on her.
Bastard.
“I’m an elemental.”

Ava let irritation wash away the fire stirring within her and opened the plain, untitled book she held without thinking. Her heart formed a fist in her chest as she read the faded title page. She had to read it out loud.
“The UnWorded Thief: Portraits of the First Mages and the Founding of the Institute.”
The author was the almost-mythical Sten Konal, said to be the son of the very first mage.

She closed her eyes and a pressured “Fuck” broke from her. All humor, all ease, left her. The magic in her shriveled under the increasing flare of her fury. She shook, her fingers biting into the book she held.

She could’ve been a mage. No soul-eating, no endless hunger, no having people shrink back in terror. She could’ve fucked away her early years in the lower halls and then, at twenty-five, with the wildness of her nature suppressed, high magic would’ve suffused her flesh, making her beautiful, glossy and with fresh power to hoard within her.

Ava pressed a hand to her mouth, willing herself to flick over the vellum pages. Pain tightened her chest.
Fuck
. She stopped on an illuminated page and a tear broke from her. The Words that made her a thief stared back at her. They sang in her blood. Resonated. The thief had viciously carved every sigil into little Kaia. When she herself was a baby someone had treated her with a touch more kindness, stroking the Words over her skin, her heart, but forever changing her.

The first, faded, vellum page glared at her.

To be mage is to suppress the vile instincts that make a thief little more than an animal. Detestable hunger under the mark of the teken. We will never walk in the projection of another’s skin, never drag their meat from their bones, feast on their heart’s blood.

They can never join us. As a Word is spoken, it can never be unsaid. They remain beasts. Our souls are full. Will forever be full.

In suppressing wild darkness, we become whole. We become perfection.

Smug, arrogant
bastards.

She slammed the book shut and threw it at the wall. It gave a satisfying thud, and a spark of high magic broke out across its tough linen cover. “Complete bastards!”

Ava didn’t know who she was cursing. The mages for being so superior or for not telling her, or the unknown people who had stained her skin with the Words that had ruined her life. She stared at Heyerdar. He hadn’t said a word.

“You knew.” She dashed a hand against her eyes and sniffed, fighting to pull herself together. She wanted to sink into her empty soul and never come out, anger and bitterness surging. She would become what they feared and hated and would fucking
rage
through the Institute. “I should’ve been a mage.”

“Thieves are rare. You’re feared.”

A harsh laugh broke from her. “I’m well aware of that, thank you, Heyerdar.”

He pulled in a heavy breath and his large hand cupped her jaw, turning her face to him. His gaze was molten and his voice had dropped to a raw whisper. “I’m not afraid of you.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re the Left Hand. Nothing scares you.”

“True.”

He waved his fingers without looking away from her, and the books and food vanished. The easy display of power caught her breath, and the hated thief within her rose to it. She wanted him again, wanted to pull him into her, the heat and fire and strength of him...

Pain was a fist around her heart. “I only take from you.”

His thumb wiped away the tear that fell to her cheek. “I’ve never had anyone else like you. What you can do...” He grinned, something hot and wicked, and Ava forgot about her guilt, forgot everything. “Don’t think you’re ever leaving this room again.”

She wanted a real smile, but her lips, her muscles, wouldn’t work. She knew now of the long life she should’ve had. One filled with...not friends, because mages were too self-absorbed, but people who wouldn’t shrink away and stare at her with loathing. A life. A future.

She had wanted knowledge. And now she had it. More fool her. “Make me forget.”

Heyerdar pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her and sinking them both into the warmth of the mattress. “Use the magic—”

“No.” She pressed her mouth to his collarbone, tasting and kissing him, the threads of his power slicking over her lips. “I have to remember. Just not right...now.”

“Deal.”

The word twisted through her. Her deal with him had given her this. A way to ignore what she’d learned for a short time. She would take it. Take him. His large hand splayed low against her spine, and the possession of it pushed her to grind her hips against his, the hardness of his dick pressing into her belly. “Make me scream.”

“You’re getting highhanded, little thief.” He moved down her body, drawing the blankets over them to form a dark cocoon. His lips and teeth found the sensitive point below her ear, and a wild little moan broke from her. He grinned against her skin and slipped lower until his tongue teased across her breast, achingly close to her nipple. She arched into him, wanting, needing him, but he drew back. “Say you’re mine.”

“I...”

He slid his hand down over her hip, stroked fingers across the curve of her belly and slipped them between her legs. Ava sucked in her breath. Her deal was for Reist. Not for him. Never for him. Her insides twisted together, denying that her need for Heyerdar matched the need she had for Reist. It was physical. That was all it was. He knew how to play her body.

“I do.” His fingers...moved and she stopped breathing.
Fuck.
“Mine or I stop.”

“Yours.” The word burst from her. She couldn’t argue it. “For now.”

He laughed, his hot breath stirring her skin. The warm taste of his magic flowed over her and sank into her body in a delicious rush. “Deny me again.” And his tongue curled around her nipple, sucking it deep into his mouth.

Ava couldn’t speak. His mouth, his fingers, the fierce press of his large body against hers was everything she needed. Everything. She threaded her fingers through the cool silk of his hair, arching herself into him, pulling at his magic in a deepening rhythm. She didn’t want to fight that need, that instinct to consume.

“Don’t fight it.” His words were strained as his fingers slid deep, and he found a fast stroke that matched her increasing pulse. “Take it all.”

“Heyerdar...”

He growled against her breast and, before she could protest, he’d pinned her to the bed and buried himself deep within her. She cried out, ripping magic from him in protest. Quick pain surged into pleasure but she bared her teeth at him. “Bastard.”

“I am.”

His mouth took hers and he drove pleasure into her body, spreading her thighs so that he could push deep,
deep
into her with every hard thrust.

Ava fought to breathe, to think, but there was only the increasing tumult of joy, of wildness, of the surge of his magic refilling her, making her empty soul brim over with power.

She broke her mouth from his, her breathing harsh and fast. The tension in her belly made her meet every stroke, cling to him, demand more, taste his skin and ache to do more than taste. To feel his blood and bone in her mouth. The hated thief. But the promise of how good it would feel, hot and sweet, blending with the delicious weight of his magic...

The first promise of her impending release caught her. She grabbed it. Wanting it to burst over her, wipe everything but pleasure from her mind.

“That’s it.” Heyerdar growled against her ear, his voice quick and fast. “Enjoy what you are. Devour me. Tear my skin. My flesh.”

His strokes became uneven. He was close, his magic a thick feast. She dug her nails into his muscled back, enjoying his brief hiss of pain and imagining the cuts into his skin, the spill of blood that she could lap—

Her release exploded through her body, sweeping away everything, blistering her mind with joy. Her cry burst from her, an unintelligible mix of “Heyerdar” and cursing. She clung to him, riding out the echoes, and he pushed hard to his own release. His magic smashed into her and flared another violent rush of joy across her flesh.

Heyerdar rolled onto his side and crushed her to him, his lips in her tangled hair, his heart thudding against her ear. He fought to breathe. “You are just...” His large hand squeezed her backside and he ground himself against her. “Good.”

Ava let out a satisfied laugh, but bitterness edged it. “A good thief?”

He turned onto his back, taking her with him. She yelped, clinging to him, trying to find her balance. The blankets fell away, and her hands splayed across the hard beauty of his stomach. She had to stroke her fingers over the texture of his skin, satin roughened with hair.

He caught her hands with his. “You’re a thief.” Magic painted him in the flickering shadows of the room, and her empty soul still ached to take him. “Sink your teeth into me.”

Ava stiffened. She didn’t want that reminder. She was supposed to be forgetting, pushing mages and thieves, high and old magic from her mind. Not sinking into the worst of what she was. Saying it in the wild heat of sex was one thing. Devouring him now? Was this his way of trying to push her new knowledge from her mind? She...couldn’t.

He ran a nail across the hard muscle of his chest and hissed as he cut a line through his skin. Blood beaded at the surface, before the skin beneath it swiftly healed. The thief in her surged against her control. She could take him...endlessly. The promise of his flesh, the hint of sweetness mixing with the joy of this magic, tested every ounce of her will.

“Bastard.” Her body swayed. She growled at him and he grinned. “You really want this?”

“
You
need this.” His fingers fisted in her hair, urging her closer. “Lick.”

The tip of her tongue tasted him...and his blood burned sharp and pure. Her teeth grazed, marking his skin, drawing more. It washed across her lips, slicked her tongue. He tasted... She groaned. He tasted incredible. She had to stop herself from sinking her teeth deep, from tearing and gnawing at his living flesh.

Instead, she pushed back against him, riding him, her mouth finding a new, perfect stretch of skin and hard muscle. Another bite, another rock against him, another surge of magic into her empty soul.

Heyerdar swore under his breath, his hands hard on her hips, urging her faster. “More.”

Her mouth was hot with his blood, the taste of his skin. She needed to devour him. Whole. Blood and bones and magic. All of him. Inside her. The tension twisted in her belly, the need to fuck him hard ripping her teeth from his delicious skin. He would heal. And she could have him again. And again.

She met his gaze, everything that she was on fire with power and need. She tore the magic from him, golden swathes swirling into her flesh. Heyerdar moaned, his body taut under hers, his hands bruising her hips.

“Only we can do this.” He thrust up to meet her downward push. “Shit. I should’ve fucked every thief I laid my hands on.”

Ava laughed, the wild pulse of joy, of the slick heat of his blood on her tongue, the satisfaction of sinking her sharp teeth into his firm muscle. “Make me feel special, Heyerdar.”

His molten gaze snapped to her, and the heat and power in it held her. She had to have every delicious stretch of skin, of flesh, of bone. She’d devour him and leave nothing,
nothing
of him behind. Her chest heaved, the thief in her pushing against her control, desperate to be free.

“Yes.” A low growl rippled from him. He grabbed her hair, holding her to his bloodied chest. The iron scent of his blood made her heart pound. “I want the thief.”