He stared at the portal for a moment. Then he went back to the doorway and slipped through. Again, the guards met him with raised swords. “Sir, we …”
Alton held up his hand. “I know. I’m not planning to go anywhere. I have questions. Do you have any word of Roland of Kronus?”
The guard shifted uneasily and glanced at his companions. All four of these guards carried the traditional steel swords, so none of them were Roland’s men, the three who carried crystal replicates of Roland’s crystal blade.
He knew Darius, one of the three, was still in Evergreen with Mari the witch, but what of the other two?
Alton folded his arms across his chest. He didn’t say a word, but his mere presence had all four guards shuffling uneasily. Finally, the one he’d addressed looked at Alton and said, “He’s been arrested, sir. Early this morning, he and the other two who carry crystal were locked up.”
Nodding, Alton realized he wasn’t at all surprised. “What happened to their swords?”
The guard shook his head. “I don’t know. I think they were left in their quarters. The men were taken before they would have risen for the day.”
“Regarding this order for my arrest. Is my woman named as well?”
Again, the guard shook his head. “No, sir. The orders for house arrest are for you alone.” He glanced at his companions and then turned his gaze to Alton. “I doubt they would even think of her, sir. The council members have little time for women.” Now it was the guard who winked at Alton. “They still disbelieve stories of the women warriors in Lemuria’s past.”
Alton grinned. “Isn’t that too bad? Especially when it’s something that may come back to bite a few of our illustrious council members in their collective buttocks.”
The other three guards had moved closer. Alton was almost sure they stood a little straighter after listening to the conversation. He glanced both ways to be certain the corridor was clear. “You do realize that great change is afoot, that the risk to Lemuria grows by the moment?”
Obviously unhappy with the whole situation, the guard nodded. “I know, sir. But we’re sworn to follow orders.”
“I understand, and I’m not asking you to do anything at all treasonable, but please promise you will remember one very important thing.”
The guard straightened and glanced at his companions before concentrating on Alton. “What is that, sir?”
“Remember you are sworn to uphold Lemuria’s honor, not the dubious honor of the Council of Nine. The time may come, very soon, when the lives of our citizens and the very fabric of our civilization will be tested. Be certain you have chosen the right leader to follow.”
The corporal met Alton’s steady gaze. Then he slowly nodded his head. “Sergeant Roland of Kronus said as much. He is an honorable man as well as a good friend.”
“Thank you.” Alton nodded to each of the men and returned to his rooms. Ginny waited just inside the portal. Somehow she must have known something was wrong. She was dressed for battle in boots and jeans and her purple hoodie, with her hair tightly braided out of the way. DarkFire was strapped across her back.
“We’ve got a situation,” he said. Then he sighed and held his arms wide.
Ginny slipped into his embrace and hugged him tightly. “What?”
“I’m under what you might call ‘house arrest.’”
“You’re what?” She leaned back and stared at him.
“You heard me. The majority on the council have effectively imprisoned me in my quarters. You, however, are not included.” He grinned and kissed the surprise off her face.
She frowned. “I’m not? I don’t understand.”
“It appears our illustrious council members don’t see you as a threat. You’re just a woman, after all.”
As realization dawned, Ginny’s smile widened. “A woman with a crystal sword.”
“And attitude.” Alton laughed, but the laugher was short-lived. “I love you, Ginny, and I hate this, but I’m going to ask you to do a few things that are very dangerous. If my world’s very survival weren’t at risk, I’d never dream of it.”
“It’s our world.” She pressed fingertips to his jaw. “You know I’ll do anything for you. Or for Lemuria.”
He nodded. “I know, which is why I’m almost afraid to ask. I couldn’t survive if anything were to happen to you.” He kissed her again. He couldn’t
not
kiss her.
She kissed him back. Then she looped her hands over his shoulders and waited patiently.
He stared into her beautiful eyes—her golden tiger’s eyes—and said, “Roland has been arrested. He’s imprisoned in a level just beneath this one. We need to know what’s going on with the Forgotten Ones, but the energized bars of the cells prevent telepathy.”
Ginny nodded. “You want me to go see him. Will they let me in?”
“I think I can get one of the guards to take you. Their loyalty is with Lemuria, not with the council. Not even with me, for that matter, which is as it should be. We can’t wait, though. I have a strong feeling that things are beginning to heat up.”
“I know. I’ve been wondering about the demon king. Where is he? I can’t imagine that I sent him back to Abyss for good.”
Alton chuckled. “You did a damned good job of pissing him off, though. I don’t think he’s gone forever, either, but I believe our concern needs to be with Roland and the Forgotten Ones. Now that we know for certain that’s my grandfather imprisoned below, we have to hang on until the women are ready with their crystal blades and their guards are no longer ruled by demonkind.”
“When do you want me to go to Roland?”
Never.
Nine hells, he hated for her to take such risks, but he knew of no other way. “As soon as you’re ready. I’ll talk to the guards, see if I can get one of them to lead you to him.”
“Alton.” She wrapped her fingers around his arm. “DarkFire will keep me safe.”
“She’d better,” he grumbled. “I’ll do what I can from here. I need to reach Roland’s wife, Chara, and let her know what’s going on. I don’t think Roland has shared any of this with her.” He squeezed Ginny’s shoulders. “He’s never hesitated to do what he can for Lemuria. He’s risked all for our world. Everything he is, all that he has.”
Ginny leaned close and kissed him. “So have you, Alton. So have others. Sacrifice is often necessary for success.”
“I know, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it, or not fight like the nine hells to protect the ones I care for. And sacrifice had damned well better not include you. Be careful.”
She slanted him a sly smile. “I have an idea. Follow me.”
She slipped through the portal. Alton was right behind her. The guards blocked her way and then quickly lowered their swords.
Ginny stopped and smiled at each man. “Are you loyal to Lemuria? Are your hearts dedicated to saving your world from demonkind?”
The corporal glanced at his men and nodded to Ginny. “I can answer for all of us. We support Lemuria. Only Lemuria.”
“I thought so. Draw your swords and hold them high.” Ginny drew DarkFire.
I hope like hell this works.
Me, too.
Alton had no doubt. Even he sensed the energy pulsing in the dark sword.
Frowning, obviously confused, the four guards drew their swords and held the blades high.
“Press your blades to DarkFire.” She lifted the amethyst blade and held it steady as four steel blades connected to crystal. DarkFire glowed and then flashed with a brilliant purple light. A dark flame raced the length of each steel blade.
Light flashed, energy pulsed from crystal to steel, brighter, hotter, until it exploded in a burst of lavender sparks.
There was a collective sigh as each of the four guardsmen lowered his blade—his crystal blade—and stared at the clear, blue light rippling along the faceted surface.
The corporal raised his head. “But how? Only the ruling class may …”
“Not anymore.” Alton rested his hand on Ginny’s shoulder. “Lemuria’s ruling class has failed in its greatest obligation—to keep our world and our citizens safe. It is up to you, the ones who still hold Lemuria’s best interests in your hearts, to carry crystal. Just as it will be up to you when there is a call to arms to fight demonkind, a call that may not come from the Council of Nine or even from me. Trust me that you will know it’s the one you should heed. Remember, only crystal can vanquish demons. Be ready.”
Ginny started to slip DarkFire into her sheath, but as the tip of the blade touched the scabbard, the sword spoke.
“Behold. Time grows short and the situation more dire. Guardsmen—your blades have the power to replicate others. Only those men whose loyalties lie with Lemuria can carry crystal. You will know the ones who wish you ill if steel remains steel.”
The blade dimmed. Ginny sheathed her sword.
She folded her arms across her chest and gazed at the men. “You’ve heard DarkFire. You have the power to turn the steel blades of your fellow guardsmen to crystal. If their hearts are not true, if they’re not willing to give all for Lemuria, their blades won’t change. Now, though, I have to speak to Roland. Can one of you take me to him?”
The youngest of the group stepped forward. Carefully he sheathed his crystal sword. The blade subtly altered until it appeared as steel within the scabbard. He stared at it a moment, and then drew it again. It turned to crystal in his hand. He flashed a relieved grin at Ginny as he sheathed the blade once again. “My lady, I know where Roland and his men are being held. Your friend as well, Chancellor. The one called Taron.”
“Thank you.” She sighed and grabbed Alton’s hand. “We wondered if Taron had been taken.”
Alton glanced at Ginny.
If there’s a way to free them, we’ll have to find it, but for now, I hesitate to go against the council’s direct order.
Even if it’s illegal?
Alton nodded.
Find out what you can. See where things stand below. I’ll be here.
Ginny glanced at the four guards, now armed with crystal. Their army was growing, one sword at a time.
I guess you will.
She turned and kissed him.
Be safe. Stay linked to my mind so you’ll know what’s up. I love you.
And then she was gone, striding down the tunnel with the young guard leading the way.
Chapter Fourteen
Dawson awoke with the strange sense he was being watched. Slowly, cautiously, he opened his eyes—and looked directly into Selyn’s blue-eyed gaze. She clutched the blanket against her chest and stared at him so seriously he almost laughed—yet even as he fought laughter, he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted a woman in his life.
“Good morning,” he said.
She dropped the blanket, leaned down, and kissed him. Her naked breasts pressed against his bare chest, and he groaned against her mouth. He hadn’t dared look at her when he’d crawled into bed. Hadn’t wanted to know what she wore to sleep.
Now that he knew she slept in nothing more than her beautiful coppery skin, it was impossible not to want to see more, to touch more. He wrapped an arm around her and rolled Selyn to her back, but the blankets went with him and blocked the full contact of his body to hers.
It was probably just as well. He hadn’t even considered the possibility of sleeping in the same bed, much less actually making love to her, and there’d been no need to carry his wallet on this trip into Lemuria—along with the condom he kept stashed inside.
She gazed up at him, wide-eyed as he hovered over her, and it suddenly hit him that he was probably scaring the crap out of her, looming over her like this. He leaned close and playfully rubbed his nose against hers. “Don’t be frightened of me, Selyn.” He kissed the end of her nose. “I’ll never hurt you. I promise.”
She blinked. Then she ran her tongue over her top lip, curled the tip, and brushed her bottom lip. He didn’t even try to ignore the invitation she’d made, whether it was consciously done or not.
He leaned close and kissed her mouth this time, gently at first, sliding his lips over hers while silently cursing the blankets that kept their bodies separated. Selyn raised her hips, pressing as close to him as the bedding would allow. Dawson rested on his elbows and cupped her head in his hands. Her arms slipped around his back, and she hugged him close.
He held Selyn down with his greater weight, and the hard length of him was planted firmly between her legs. She squirmed and bucked beneath him. Not fighting him. No, she raised her knees on either side of his hips, clinging to Dawson, frantically rubbing against the promise that was bundled behind soft blankets. It was torture. Excruciating, amazing, blissful torture.
He tried to put himself in her place, tried to imagine what she might be thinking, what she was feeling. He knew, from things she’d said, she’d never been with a man. Selyn had spent her life apart from men, exposed only to the huge Lemurian guards who bullied the women with their cruel treatment. She probably didn’t have any idea what her natural instincts were telling her body it wanted, what it needed.
She took sexual innocence to an entirely new level. Even though he hadn’t been with a lot of women, Dawson figured he had to know more than Selyn with her total lack of experience.
And the one thing he was certain of was that she had no idea at all what she was asking for. Not a clue. It was going to kill him, but he had to stop this and stop it now. Knowing what was right didn’t make it any easier—his body shook with need, and it took everything he had to fight his own instincts.
It was definitely going to kill him—he was absolutely positive he wouldn’t survive—but he ended the kiss and the rubbing and the wonderful things his body was ordering him to do and, breathing hard, rolled away.
Selyn popped up on one arm and glared at him. It was impossible to concentrate on her flashing blue eyes with her bare breasts almost even with his lips.
“Why did you stop kissing me? Was I doing something wrong?” She frowned at him.
It probably didn’t help his case one bit when he laughed. “Oh, Lordy, Selyn. No. You weren’t doing anything wrong, but what you were doing was going to lead to a whole lot more, and I’m not prepared for that. Not at all.”
“What?” She ran her fingers over his collarbone. He almost whimpered. “What aren’t you prepared for?”
“Making love.” He stroked her tangled hair. “You can’t imagine how much I want to make love to you, but we can’t. The risk of pregnancy is too high.”
She stared at him for a long moment. Then she closed her eyes and nodded, took a deep breath, rolled away, and flopped down on her back. “Oh. Okay,” she said. She stared at the ceiling. “Our women don’t conceive easily, but I am proof that it can happen when least expected.” Then she smiled ruefully at him. “But I hope you realize it is not very easy, this stopping when every instinct in your body wants to keep going.”
He chuckled and dropped his arm across his eyes so he couldn’t see her breasts. “Trust me. I realize it. Honest.” He let out a huge gust of air. “No doubt in my mind.”
This time, Selyn laughed with him. She ran a fingertip over his chest and made him shiver. “It’s not just about making love, you know. I was hoping I would finally get to see you. My sisters and I talk about men, about what they might look like. How they’re different from us.”
He raised his arm off his face and stared at her. “You want to see me?” That he could do, though she might get to see a lot more than she expected. Just the thought of being naked in front of Selyn’s curious eyes made him hard. Hell, breathing the same air, being in the same room—just thinking about her—made him hard. “I don’t mind if you look.”
He peeled the covers back to his waist. Selyn spun around and sat beside him with her legs crossed. He was almost relieved when the blankets twisted around her waist and covered her hips and thighs. She touched his chest and ran her fingers through the dark mat of hair that spread between his nipples.
“I’ve seen some of the guards without shirts, but they don’t have hair like you do on their chests. Not so much.” She stroked his dark pelt as if she were petting a kitten.
Dawson thought about sitting up, but decided against it. He was probably less threatening to her, lying on his side this way, propped up on one elbow.
Staring at her as if he could eat her alive.
She grabbed the blanket at his waist and looked at him.
“Go ahead. It’s okay. I don’t bite.”
“I know that.” Slowly, Selyn peeled the blanket down over his hip and thigh.
Her eyes got so big he chuckled. “We’re definitely built differently.”
“I can see that.” She stared at him a moment. Then she reached out and touched him. His cock jerked. Her fingers tracing the length of him had to be the most erotic thing he’d ever felt in his life.
He sucked in a breath, and she paused. Her head shot up, and she stared at him with parted lips and a glazed expression in her eyes. Her fingers lingered on his full length, and he felt each fingertip like a brand burning into the flesh.
She’d leaned forward to touch him, and her bare breasts were mere inches from his lips, her nipples puckered into taut peaks. Dawson gave in to temptation, leaned close, and suckled one rosy tip into his mouth, laving the dark rosette with his tongue, and tugging just enough to bring a soft gasp to her lips.
She arched her back, forcing her nipple into his mouth. He licked and nibbled, suckling her deep, tugging hard. Her heart was pounding so hard he felt its pulse against his lips, and he knew she had to be wound tight as a spring.
He slid his hand over the soft swell of her belly and under the tangled blankets that covered her. She gasped when he parted the tight curls between her legs and slipped his fingertip between her swollen folds. Her hips bucked forward, and he pulled his hand back. The last thing he wanted to do was take her virginity with his fingers, but she whimpered until he cupped her mound in his palm and rubbed his hand slowly back and forth.
Her cries went short and sharp and desperate, and she clutched his forearm with both hands until her short nails dug into his skin. She was slick and wet, her labia swollen all hot and slippery beneath his fingers, and he wanted her with a desperation that was almost beyond his control.
After a moment, he sucked in a deep breath and hoped like hell he could hang on. He really didn’t want to embarrass himself, but he was so close to the edge. He released her nipple with a light little “pop,” and pulled his hand from between her legs.
Her breath hissed between her lips in short, sharp gasps, so he stretched up and kissed her. “Lie down, Selyn. There are things we can do that won’t risk pregnancy. Things I can do for you to take away some of the tension. Will you let me?”
Nodding, she slowly pulled the blankets away from her waist, and lay down with her hands at her sides clutching the bedding. She watched Dawson like a cat watches a snake.
Daws rolled closer and knelt between her legs. For a moment he just looked his fill of her, lying there with her hair in black, ropey tangles around her shoulders, her left nipple shiny from his mouth. He stroked that damp tip with one finger, and then he circled its mate. “Remember when I said you were too pretty to eat, but that was what I wanted to do to you?”
“Yes.” The word slipped out on a shuddering sigh.
“Let me show you what I meant.”
Her entire body trembled. He leaned close and suckled her breast again. Her short, sharp, “Oh!” had him smiling around the nipple between his lips. He worried the right one and then the left. Then he kissed his way along her ribs. She giggled when he ran his tongue along her side, but by the time he reached the tuft of dark hair between her legs, she was panting, and her body shuddered with arousal.
He slipped his hands beneath her buttocks and lifted her. Sat back on his heels and took a moment to put her at ease with careful touches and an encouraging smile. Then he dipped his head and blew a soft puff of warm air against her damp petals.
Her body jerked in his hands, but her arousal was obvious in the glistening moisture sparkling in her curls and the way her body trembled and shivered beneath his touch. Her sweet, feminine scent had him mentally kicking himself for not bringing along at least a whole box of condoms. He lifted her long legs and hooked them over his shoulders, cupped her firm bottom once again, and ran his tongue slowly between her slick folds.
Her gasp was as much a cry of surprise as an invitation to do more of the same. He licked her again, tasting her honey, dipping his tongue deep and then circling the small bundle of nerves he’d already discovered was in exactly the same place on a Lemurian woman as on any woman from Earth.
She cried out, a long, keening note of pleasure as he loved her with his lips and tongue, with soft nibbles of his teeth. He wanted to drive deep with his fingers so he could feel her body ripple around him when she came, but once again he reminded himself Selyn was untouched and penetration might hurt. He wanted this first experience to be nothing but pleasure, even if it killed him.
Her hips bucked and writhed beneath his mouth. She clutched the bedding beside his knees, and he knew she was close by the sound of her cries and the rapid rush of her breathing. He suckled her, drawing her clitoris between his lips, using his tongue to lave and caress, to curl and lick softly between her sensitive folds. Suddenly her body went rigid in his grasp. She cried out, arched her spine, and tightened her thighs across his back. He tasted her release. The sound of her cries, the rush of her climax, almost took him over the top. He buried his face in her heat, licking, sucking, using his mouth to gently bring her down, and finally, when her body began to go pliant and soft, he lay her down on the bed.
When he sat back between her legs, Dawson couldn’t quit grinning. The dazed expression on Selyn’s face was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen in his life. Knowing he’d put that look of contentment there made him feel like cheering. He was hard as a post and his balls ached, but he knew he’d given Selyn an amazing climax—one that had her blinking owlishly with vague, unfocused eyes as she slowly returned to the present.
That alone was worth a little bit of frustration. Okay, a whole lot of frustration, but they’d have a chance before too long. He had to believe that. For now, though, he took satisfaction in knowing he’d given her an experience unlike anything she’d ever had before.
Selyn lay in the tumbled sheets, shivering and trembling, weak as a baby from the most powerful experience of her life. She’d heard about sexual orgasms and knew some of the women gave them to themselves or gave them to each other, but she’d never felt the need before. Never truly understood what her body was capable of feeling with the right touches, the right stimulation—the right man.
But what of Dawson? He lay beside her and stroked his hands over her belly and hip, but that man-part of his was still swollen and looked like it had to hurt. She knew he’d liked it when she touched him, just as she’d loved the way it felt when he touched her, even before he’d put his mouth on her.
She reached for him. His hand snaked out, and he grabbed her wrist firmly, stopping her.
“That’s probably not a good idea,” he said.
“Why?” She looked at her forearm, firmly locked in his long fingers. “You touched me with your hands and your mouth. It felt wonderful. Why can’t I touch …”
He laughed and shook his head. “Truth? I’ll embarrass myself. I won’t be able to last if you touch me. Hell, I’m having trouble maintaining just being close to you.”