Prime Reaper (25 page)

The other Reapers had heard Morrigunia’s words and were grimacing from the discomfort—nowhere near as bad as Glyn’s—punishing their hearing.

“Think before you speak again,” Arawn warned Glyn.

The storm was far below them and they could see the swirl of its tempestuous winds and rain. No rain hit them but the wind passing over them was nearly as frigid as the Serenian Alps.

“Holy fucking shit,” Cynyr said as he clung to the rim of the basket. “How far up are we?”

“High enough,” Jaborn whispered.

The forty-feet wingspan of the dragon flapped lazily and the clouds skittering along beneath the gondola’s base passed like lightning.

“How fast are we going?” Phelan asked, too scared to do anything but sit huddled on the floor, his knees drawn up into the perimeter of his arms. Owen stood staring over the side of the gondola. He appeared to still be drugdazed. Glyn was standing close to him with Bevyn on the other side.

“Faster than we’ve been lately,” Arawn said, the wind rushing through his hair. He grinned, loving the feel of flying without having to use wings.

“I barely remember the ship that brought us here,” Bevyn said. What would have taken them days to do was accomplished in less than two hours and when the gondola settled gently in the courtyard of the Citadel amidst a light, cool rain, the men watched as their goddess took wing once more and soared away toward the lightening rays of luminance to the west. In the east, lightning still flashed from the violent storm that had passed.

“The Net must be down,” Cynyr said as he unhooked the wicker gate of the gondola.

“He knew we were coming and She can always get through,” Arawn said, and no one needed to ask whom he meant. He walked out of the gondola and looked toward the dark building where torchlights had suddenly appeared.

“
Mo shearc
!”

Arawn opened his arms as his lady came running barefoot toward him. Grunting as she flung herself at him, he swung her around then lowered his head to claim her lips as she lifted her legs to clamp them tightly around his waist. 136

Prime Reaper

“Attaboy, Prime. Set a good example for us mate-less guys,” Iden laughed. He nudged Phelan. “Cree looks to be a happy camper too.”

Cynyr and Aingeal were locked in a solid embrace. Though her feet were on the ground she was pressed so tightly against him, a feather couldn’t have been wedged between them with her very pregnant belly molded to her mate. But it was Bevyn to whom everyone—including the husbands and wives—looked when Lea stepped hesitantly from the rear portico of the building and came slowly toward her mate. Her blonde hair looked as though it had been whipped by a mighty wind and in the torchlight her gray eyes were filled with shadows, her lips trembling.

“Milady,” Bevyn said as he walked to her. “I—”

Lea allowed him to get no farther for she rushed to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressed her cheek to his chest and began to sob. On the portico steps, the Shadowlords—their gray robes fluttering in the wind—

stood watching their warriors and the warriors’ women. The High Lord nodded to Arawn but remained silent.

Bevyn swept his lady up in his arms and carried her toward the portico. He met Lord Kheelan’s gaze as he passed him but said nothing to any of the Shadowlords. Taking his woman inside, he spoke softly to her, attempting to calm the piteous sobbing that made her body heave against him.

“That’s the first we’ve seen her since the Transference,” Danielle told her husband.

“Aingeal and I were going to batter down her door in the morning if she didn’t show herself.”

“Bev will handle it,” Arawn said. He looked down into the eyes of his mate. “We have a problem I believe you might be able to help us with, wench.”

Danielle’s attention shifted from her husband to the Reaper standing alone by the gondola, his hands shoved into the pockets of his uniform pants.

“He is hurting,” Arawn said.

“I can feel it,” his wife replied.

“Will you speak to him in the morning?”

Danni nodded. “I will do whatever I can,
mo shearc
.” She threaded her fingers through her husband’s. “Now though. We have our own problem with which to contend.”

Arawn frowned. “Has something happened?”

She sighed deeply. “It’s Elbert,” she said. “He’s been thrown in jail again.”

It took the Prime Reaper a moment to realize who she meant. His look turned wicked and he arched a thick brow. “And I suppose you want my help in setting the simpleton free.”

His lady batted her lashes at him. “I’ll do whatever it takes to see him liberated,
mo
tiarna
.”

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Charlotte Boyett-Compo

“Aye, wench,” he said, his hand tightening around hers. “That you will.”

Cynyr and Aingeal were right behind Arawn and his lady going up the steps of the portico. He heard Lord Kheelan informed the Prime Reaper that he and his team should take a few weeks off to relax before going back to their assigned duty stations.

“More whole weeks here?” Aingeal groaned. “We could get a lot done if we were back in Haines City!”

Glancing down at his wife’s large tummy, he laid a hand there then jumped back as though he’d been burned. His eyes flared. “Wench?” he gasped.

“You son has been doing that all day,” Aingeal told him with a snort. “He’s an anxious one.”

His hand trembling, Cynyr reached out to touch his lady’s stomach again and as soon as he did, his face lit up as bright as the torches on the portico and tears filled his eyes. “Does it hurt?” he asked as he gently rubbed her belly.

“It feels strange but it doesn’t hurt,” Aingeal replied. “The hurt will come when I birth this little brat of yours.”

Cynyr flinched. “Milady, I—”

“Don’t say it,” she warned him, linking her arm through his as they entered the building. “It takes two to wrangle,
mo shearc
.”

Iden and Phelan invited Jaborn to have an early morning snack with them and turned to ask Glyn and Owen if they’d like to come too.

“You go on,” Glyn said.

“Go with them, Kullen,” Owen said. “I’ve business with the Shadowlords.”

“I can wait.”

Owen shook his head. “This may take a while.” He met his friend’s worried look.

“I’ll meet up with you later.”

Glyn hesitated—undecided—but when Owen half smiled at him, he turned away. Taking his time following the rest of his team, Owen Tohre walked up to the bottom of the portico steps and stared up at the Shadowlords. His face was hard and set, his shoulders rigid, his hands still thrust deep into his pockets.

“How long will you be gone?” the High Lord asked softly.

“Until I return,” Owen said in a harsh tone. A muscle flexed in his jaw. “I may never come back.”

“You will always be welcome here, Lord Owen,” Lord Naois told him.

“Aye, well, it’s nearly the only place where a Reaper is welcome,” Owen stated.

“Haines City being the exception,” Lord Dunham spoke up.

“H.C. is Cree’s bailiwick,” Owen replied. He turned to go then stopped, looked back over his shoulder, meeting Ben-Alkazar’s eye. “They’ll be back, you know.”

The High Lord sighed. “Aye, Lord Owen, they will.”

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Prime Reaper

A grim, lethal smile tugged at the Reaper’s mouth. “Let’s hope the bitch is with them. If she is, she’s mine.” With that said, he walked back toward the gondola, changing as he went, shedding his humanity and taking on a freer form. The Shadowlords watched the blackbird as it soared up from the ground, banked to the north and then disappeared into the light, misting rain.

“You can turn the Net back on now, Dunny,” Lord Kheelan said. “Our troubled Reaper has flown the nest.”

139

Charlotte Boyett-Compo

Arawn Gehdrin had known horrific cruelty in his life. He had known disloyalty, spite, betrayal and had endured a gruesome death that would have crippled a lesser man. He was due for the good things in his new life and he knew everything he could ever want was to be found in the beautiful blue eyes of his lady.

“Poor Egbert just can’t keep out of trouble, can he, wench?” the Prime Reaper asked as he unbuckled his gun belt.

“Elbert,” his lady corrected. “And nay, he surely can not.”

“What did he do this time?” He re-buckled the belt and hung it over the foot post of their brass bed. He sat down on the edge of the bed to pull off his boots.

“I am at a loss to say,
mo tiarna
,” she said meekly. “Whatever the cost of freeing him, I have no recourse but to pay.” She looked up at him through her long lashes.

“What is your pleasure, sir?”

“How can I tell until I know the extent of your brother’s perfidy?” he countered as he slowly tugged his shirt from his uniform pants.

Danielle clasped her hands in front of her. “I believe it had to do with something he said,
mo tiarna
. An insult to one of the Shadowlords, perhaps?”

“An insult, eh?” he asked. He unbuttoned the cuffs of his silk shirt then began unbuttoning the front. “Opened his mouth a bit too wide and too often, perhaps?”

She sighed, shaking her head sadly. “And stuck his foot in it, I’m sure.”

The Prime Reaper shrugged out of his shirt and let it fall to the floor. His hands went to the closure of his pants. “I can think of a fitting tribute for you to pay then, wench,” he said. “Kind unto kind if using his mouth was his crime.”

“You can?” she asked, her eyes wide. “What, pray tell, might that be,
mo tiarna
?”

“Aye, I can.”

Danielle flicked out her tongue to run it along her lush lips. As her husband unzipped his pants and pushed them down over his hips—his steely erection springing into view—she slipped off her clothing then dropped gracefully to her knees.

“Oh
mo tiarna
!” she said breathlessly, reaching down to help him step out of the leather pants. “Are you going to savage me now?” She looked up at him, her lips parted. “Do terrible, bad things to me with that fearsome weapon between your legs?”

“Do you wish your brother free of his latest incarceration?” he inquired, folding his arms over his naked chest and looking down at her with a crooked brow. “Will you pay my price, wench?”

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Prime Reaper

His lady’s shoulders slumped. “What choice do I have but to endure your every whim if I am to see Egbert rid of his prison cell?”

“Elbert,” Arawn mumbled. “What choice indeed, my pretty.”

Her hand trembling, her lips quivering, the Prime Reaper’s lady reached out to touch his rigid manhood. “Oh but it is such a brutish thing, is it not?”

“Not when you use it gently with that sweet mouth and pliant tongue of yours,” he said in a husky voice.

“You want me to put
that
in my mouth?” she gasped.

“Aye, wench,” he growled. “I want you to swallow it.”

“But do you think it will fit?” She eyed him saucily. “What with it being so big and all.”

Arawn said nothing, just looked down at her with the most wicked gleam in his amber eyes.

“Oh well, I suppose if I have to,” she said with resignation. She leaned forward but stopped just before taking him into her mouth. She looked up at him. “Aren’t you afraid your little she-wolf might take a bite out of this delectable serving,
mo shearc
?”

He unfolded his arms to thread his fingers through her hair. He anchored her head and pulled her closer to his erection. “Not when she knows how much pleasure that meat can give her,” he replied.

Danielle smiled and slid her lips over his throbbing flesh. She heard his sigh of contentment and plied her tongue along his flesh in a way she knew he enjoyed. His hands massaged her scalp as he held her to him, shifting his legs apart to give her freedom to cup his sac in her hands.

“Aye, milady,” he whispered, feeling the fire blazing in his loins. “You have such a sweet mouth.”

She suckled on his flesh and milked him of the salty fluid that seeped from the aching slit at the end of his cock. Her lips had him as rigid as stone and he was panting as she worked her sensual magic on his willing shaft.

When he bent down to jerk her to her feet, spinning her around so he could fall with her upon the bed, she could do no more than gasp as his cock slid deep inside her and his fingers dug into the soft cushion of her ass.

“Take all of me, wench,” he said, thrusting into her hard and ever deeper. “Take all that is me.”

Danielle wrapped her legs around his hips and tightened until she heard him grunt.

“Take all of me, Reaper,” she countered.

Arawn reveled in her fingernails gouging into the flesh of his back. It was a sensation that sent shock waves of pure lust rampaging through his system. He increased his thrusts and lifted her higher against him so he could penetrate her silken sheath even more.

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Charlotte Boyett-Compo

“Come for me, wench,” he said, pounding into her. “Come for me and milk me dry as you do!”

He could feel the tremors beginning along the length of her moist cavern. She was clutching him so tightly he was having trouble drawing breath but he didn’t care. He would gladly die in his woman’s arms. She was all to him and without her he would be lost. The sobering thought of just how close he had come to losing her sent an agonizing pain through his chest and he increased his movements, needing desperately to lose himself in her willing body.

“Aye, Reaper,” she said, and her lips moved to the hollow of his throat where a rapid pulse thundered. “I will come for you.”

Ripples undulated through her warm sheath—tugging at his cock, suckling him, drawing forth his response that came with a burst of juices that made him bellow with the release.

She shrieked her pleasure.

He growled his release then collapsed atop her as the last spasm faded away and he lay still.

Danielle’s arms were wrapped around him. Her legs kept him captive against her. His head was upon her breast, his lips pressed to one taut nipple.

“I love you, Arawn Gehdrin,” she whispered to him.