The Crossing (Immortals) (24 page)

"Bloody hell, Artemis. You are the most stubborn female I've ever had the misfortune to meet." His fist
slammed into the elevator wall, right next to her head.

She yelped. "Damn it, Mac. Be reasonable-"

"Reasonable? How's this for reasonable? I'm not letting
you out of my sight. Not until you and your son are safe in
the human world."

"Mac-"

"Stubble it, Artemis. Get one thing through your thick
skull. I'm not going anywhere, except with you."

Her heart thundered against her ribs. "You... you
would really do this for me? But why? I've treated you so
horribly."

He was silent for a long moment. Once or twice, she
thought she heard him inhale, as if he were about to speak,
then changed his mind. Finally, he just gave a rough laugh.

"Glutton for punishment, I suppose."

He touched her then, his fingers slipping through her damp curls. His big hand cradling her head. His touch was
startlingly cool.

"You love your son very much," he said.

"Yes."

"I think he's a very lucky lad, to have a mother like you,"
he said, his voice hoarse. "I think any child would be lucky
for it."

"I don't know about that. If it weren't for me, Hecate
never would have found him."

"Shh," he chided. "You were doing a dangerous job. No
doubt you've saved hundreds of lives during your time in
the military. It's foolish, and counterproductive, to think
you could have prevented every ill. If there's one thing
I've learned in seven hundred years of living, it's that looking backward never moves you forward."

She sniffed. "I guess."

He traced the arch of her cheekbone with his thumb.
"Focus on what comes next. Getting out of this elevator.
Finding Zander. Going home. We'll take one hurdle at a
time." His thumb stroked again, soothing. Artemis was reminded of that same gentle stroke, on the rim of his coffee cup-it seemed like such a long time ago.

He spoke again, his tone serious. "Your life essence is
getting weak, Artemis. Dangerously so."

"I know. That blow I took from Malachi before the elevator closed-"

"Damn bastard." He drew her into his arms. "But I can
help with that. Make you strong in light again. If you'll
let Inc."

She nodded. "And you-you need a stronger death shield
if you're going to get through Hell without attracting
every demon along the way. I can do that. But we have to
work quickly. Who knows when that door will open? Or
what we'll encounter on the other side?"

"Right. Quick." His hand smoothed down her back. "I know a very quick, very effective way to swap power. I say
we go for it."

She went still. "You don't mean... you want to make
love? Here? Now?"

His breath kissed her temple. "Why, Artemis. What a
fine idea. I'm so glad you suggested it."

She gave a shaky laugh. "I've heard some pretty wild
pickup lines in my day, but never one as audacious as
that."

"Was it successful, love?"

"I... I don't know yet."

His hand slid to her bottom, lifting her with him as he
rose. Bracing her with her spine against the wall, he fitted
his erection into the cradle of her thighs. "How about
now? Any clearer? Come on, Artemis, that door could
open any second."

She parted the edges of his jacket and laid her hands on
his chest. His shirt was soaked with sweat. His musk made
her head spin. He shrugged, letting heavy leather slip
down his arms and fall behind them on the floor.

"You're really sure you want to do this?" she asked.
"You're willing to let my death magic surround your life
essence?"

"It'll make me stronger, won't it?"

"Yes, but... it will also make you... darker. It might
linger, like the wound you took on during the battle to
save Tain."

"I realize that. I don't care. Now a question for you,
love. Why is it so hard for you to accept my help?"

Tears crowded her eyes. "Maybe because... I'm not
used to anyone offering to help me do anything. Most of
the time, it's the other way around. People need my power,
my help. You're the first person I've ever met who hasn't
wanted something from me." She felt him shift. "I just can't
seem to make myself believe you're real. And... you've barely known me a day. And during that time, you've seen
me steal, lie, whor-"

He silenced her with a quick, brutal kiss. His voice was
strained. "Quiet, love, you're ruining the mood. I'm
not... so perfect as you make me out to be. As for what
you've done, I don't care."

His palms circled on her bottom, leaving a tingle of life
magic. The positive energy chased away her fatigue and
soothed the pounding in her head. He smelled of male
sweat and potent life. And of hope. Hope so sweet, and so
precious, it dislodged the last protest from her mind.

A lump formed in her throat- She didn't deserve this. Not
from someone like Mac. He was willing to dirty his soul for
her-perhaps permanently-and she was too needy to tell
him she couldn't accept such a gift. She'd fought alone for
so long, and now that he was here, with his arms wrapped
around her, ready and willing to fight at her side, she
couldn't turn him away.

He awed her, truly. He was so... good. So... noble.

His fingers flexed on her buttocks- He rocked the hard
ridge of his erection between her thighs, setting off zings
of sensation. His tongue circled inside her ear, making
her gasp.

"And don't think," he said, "that I won't be enjoying
myself very, very much at your expense."

Okay, well, maybe not quite so noble.

Still-

"You're sure? The death magic-"

He pressed his forehead to hers and groaned. "ArtemisI'm more than seven hundred years old."

"I know that."

"I've seen quite a bit of death in seven hundred years.
I've lost count of how many human friends I've seen
die. I've loved, I've grieved, but not once have I ever
truly understood death. Not instinctively. Not the way a
human can."

"Most humans would rather not understand death."

"I know. Humans want to live their lives as if they're
immortal. Then one day-bang. It's too late for anything,
even regrets. But the humans who face their deaths early
on-the ones who acknowledge it and use it to shape their
lives-they're the ones who truly live."

"But-you are immortal. Life will never be over for
you. You don't need to understand death. Why would you
even want to?"

He pressed his forehead to hers. "Do you know what it's
like to know you'll never die?" He exhaled a low laugh.
"No, you don't. You can't possibly know."

'Cl can imagine. It would be wonderful."

"Sometimes it is. Other times, it's only... shapeless.
Like random notes that refuse to arrange themselves into
a proper melody."

"Human lives can be shapeless, too."

He sighed. "I don't expect you to understand. Just trust
me, Artemis. Please."

She forced herself to nod. "All right."

He kissed her again, a soft, comforting contact. His
hands began moving on her body-skimming her hips, her
stomach, her breasts. Each brush of his fingers sparked a
tingle of need.

She ran her hands up his arms. She wanted to surround
him, mold her body to his. His lips covered hers, warm
and firm and alive. His tongue stroked, tempting and invading. A drop of his sweat dripped onto her shoulder. It
felt like a benediction.

She wrapped her arms around him, her body straining
to get closer as she speared her tongue into his mouth. His
fingers plucked at her jeans' button. Her pants slid down
her legs. His hot palms slipped into her panties, cupping
her bottom, and then her underwear was gone, as well.

His hands roamed under the hem of her shirt, stroking,
causing her belly to clench. The front clasp on her bra sprang open; his thumb found her nipple, and squeezed
gently. Then, with a sudden shift of his body, his mouth
replaced his hand.

Sweet fire poured like heated honey through her veins.
She cradled his head to her breast as his lips, tongue, and
teeth teased. Dimly, she was aware of Mac shoving down
his pants. He urged her bare legs open and draped them
around his hips.

His arms held her steady, the wall supporting her back.
The blunt tip of his erection slid over the soft skin of her
inner thigh.

Her head fell back, thudding gently against the wall.
She felt dizzy, her balance slipping. She wanted him
higher. Inside her. When his hand moved between her
legs, to touch the place that ached for him, it was all she
could do to bite back a moan.

"Don't fight it, love."

Mac stroked into her curls, finding his target with unerring accuracy. Life magic exploded inside her; a wave of
pleasure crested. She tried to ride it even higher. Her
pulse was racing, and it was damn hard to breathe. Impossible to think. Where was her balance now?

"Let yourself go, love."

She reached to bring him to her, but he shifted his hips,
holding himself just out of her grasp. She moaned her
protest, the plea sounding foreign in her throat. Blinding
need assaulted her. When had she ever wanted a man so
badly? Never.

That terrified her. Mac had taken control of her body
and her soul and there was nothing she could do to wrest
herself back from him. Not until he chose to let her go.

The air in the elevator was a warm cocoon, surrounding
them, locking them together. Her body was open to him.
Sweat soaked them both. Mac's breath rasped, his scent
intoxicated her. His tongue delved inside her mouth, demanding, unrelenting. His fingers probed the hot pulse between her legs. One digit slipped inside on a hot, wet
stroke; his thumb circled her clitoris, driving her higher.

She shuddered, clinging to him, too weak to do anything
but accept the raw emotion he demanded that she feel.

For him.

She gasped as his hands moved to her hips, positioning
her to receive him. His erection pressed against the entrance to her body. Her inner muscles contracted, trying to
draw him in. His fingers slipped along the separation of
her buttocks, lifting and separating the smooth globes. She
arched in his hands, her mind spinning into raw, stunning lust.

Finally-finally!-he entered her.

Slowly.

She gritted her teeth, trying to endure it. Every unhurried, searing inch of his plunge branded her soul. Her
womb contracted, never wanting to let him go. A surge of
light teased the edges of her senses-Mac's life essence,
white and hot and more alive than she could bear. This
time, unlike the last, the gift was freely given.

With a shudder, he opened his soul completely to her.
She sensed its dark stain, the single blot on his perfection.
The wound would be wider, darker, uglier, before their
mission was over.

She wanted to cry.

"Steady there." His voice was a ragged whisper. He'd
buried himself inside her, but wasn't moving. "Cast your
death magic. Inside me. Now."

She didn't want to do it.

He must have sensed her emotional withdrawal. "Oh no,
Artemis, love. None of that. There's no going back now."

He reached between their bodies and stroked her, just
above the place where their bodies joined. She gasped as a
wave of dizzying pleasure surged and retreated, leaving
her panting. Groaning, he pressed himself inside her even
deeper. Her core was alive with his hot, primal pulse.

"Hurry, love. Even demigods have their limits. I won't
be able to hold back much longer."

Swallowing her doubts, and her guilt, Artemis dug deep
into her mind. Hideous syllables, dark and dangerous,
sprang to her lips. Her tongue grazed his neck, tasting salt.

She nipped, hard, and tasted a single drop of blood.

The death spell slipped around their joined bodies like a
midnight cloak, her dark magic surrounding his light. Mac
withdrew almost completely from her body.

Artemis choked out the spell's final word. He plunged
back into her body on a smooth upward slide that seemed
to reach the center of her soul. Light flashed behind her
closed eyelids. His rhythm quickened to a frenzy.

His lovemaking, fueled by death magic, took on a raw,
selfish edge. His restraint splintered. She felt herself slip
past pure pleasure into a mix of blinding bliss and pain.

He took her hard and fast against the elevator wall. Their
grunts and groans collided, their sweat and musk mingled,
their bodies slapped together. Mac cried out as his climax
hit; Artemis's came an instant later-stunning, searing, and
all-consuming.

Inside the cocoon of Artemis's death spell, the sweet,
dark pleasure went on and on and on. The cloak of death
enveloped them, sheltered them, but, incredibly, did not
dim Mac's light. If anything, the containment Artemis had
fashioned allowed Mac's life-magic essence to blaze hotter
than ever.

She coasted down from her peak, her mind already
struggling to throw off the haze of afterglow. His grip on
her hips loosened. Her legs slid down the outside of his
thighs until her feet touched the floor. Mac braced his
hands on the wall on either side of her head and let out a
long, shuddering breath.

He softened and slipped from her body. She felt the loss
keenly. She ran her hand through his hair, fingers sifting
through the damp blond locks. The smothering heat and darkness suddenly seemed to separate them, rather than
unite. She thought she should say something, but she
couldn't think of anything that wouldn't sound trite.

She let him go.

She felt Mac's reluctance to part; she thought he was
about to speak, but then he seemed to think the better of
it. He drew back and muttered a word-a word she
couldn't believe he knew. The dark disappeared in a subtle
glow of hellfire.

Artemis blinked into the diffuse red haze, cast by a
small, amorphous sphere hovering just above Mac's left
shoulder. As he'd said, he learned quickly. Power found its
own level, whether the medium was light or darkness.