Authors: Theresa Meyers
The Hunter (29 page)
Her hot hands slowly and deliberately peeled the jacket from his shoulders, kneading them, as she kissed him deep and slow, letting her tongue glide along his. Everything inside him tightened and ached. Colt let go of his hold, letting her pull the jacket from him and fling it to the floor. It knocked the tea service sideways, causing a loud crash. He broke their kiss. “We should—”
“Ignore that.” She finished for him and gently pushed away. Colt watched in agony as she lifted her arms and snapped her fingers, materializing herself into an exotic harem girl ensemble he’d only seen drawn on a postcard his Hunter friend Marcus had sent him from a hunt in Egypt for wayward mummies.
The gauzy azure fabric that swirled about in long strips from the short skirt at the juncture of her hip to her well-turned ankles was so sheer it revealed far more than it hid, turning nearly transparent in the firelight. Her long legs were glorious. Her breasts, plump and pale white, nestled in a miniature black corset outlined in tiny blue jewels that only extended to the upper edge of her ribs, leaving her the smooth expanse of her stomach and her graceful shoulders scandalously bare. Colt nearly swallowed his tongue. He’d never seen anything like it.
“So, how do you like it? They say it’s the latest fashion in the harems of Marrakech.”
He had no prayer of answering her.
Her lips curved in a seductive smile as she sauntered forward, the heat of her body threatening to send him up in flames. She reached toward him, sliding her hands down his chest, then suddenly yanked on the fabric of his vest so hard that buttons went flying to ping off the wall. His shirt fared no better.
“Much better,” she murmured.
The moment Colt’s system woke from the shock of encountering a succubus in all her glory, his libido kicked in with a vengeance. He grasped her about the waist, marveling at the softness of her skin and letting his hands encircle her waist and follow the indention of her spine down to the smooth sweep of her derrière.
“I think I have a far greater appreciation for the power of a succubus,” he breathed.
She slowly blinked, her lashes whispering against his cheek. “Then you’re still thinking too much. Let me show you,” she purred.
Colt’s whole chest contracted, then exploded with fire the moment her heated fingers found his bare skin and began to explore. He closed his eyes as her hands trailed across his ribs and followed the line of hair down his abdomen.
Her kisses were warm, sensual, and sexy as hell as she trailed them back up his chest. She pressed a hot kiss right over his heart. It sped up in response.
Lilly locked her half-lidded gaze on his, then captured his mouth with a slow swirl of her tongue. Her bare leg slid up along his, curling over his thigh. He couldn’t resist; his hand found nothing but the hot silk of her skin, smooth and warm as he touched her from her delicate ankle up around the curve of her calf to the soft delicate spot behind her knee. So tender, so fragile, so very feminine beneath his hands.
Maybe it had nothing to do with being a succubus, he thought as he slid one hand up over her dainty ribs to the small corset she wore. He cupped the soft, warm globe of her breast in his other palm, enjoying the firm, silky weight of it. Maybe it was just because it was Lilly and she’d somehow become as necessary to him as air. Her soft whimper in response to his touch made the frenzy inside him worse. Overhead the gas jets in the lamps flared even brighter and the fire crackled and popped, sending up a shower of sparks.
He kissed her neck and along her collarbone, her skin even softer there than he had imagined. She smelled like heaven and promises, a spicy rose garden on a lazy warm summer’s day. He wanted to taste and touch every inch of her skin, see if the dips and hollows were just as sweet. He wanted to feel her welcoming warmth and sink home. He wanted her.
She sank her fingers into his hair, bringing his face back to hers. “You’re thinking again.” Her full lips pouted slightly and he couldn’t resist kissing the soft, supple mouth. His hands slid up to her thigh. Lilly gave a small hop, deftly wrapping her other leg around him like an acrobat so that she was locked about his middle, her damp heat exactly where he wanted it most.
“And you’re not playing fair,” he growled as he cupped her bottom to support her and found not only was she not wearing a stitch of clothing beneath the sheer silk skirt, she was slick with feminine need. He cursed and let out a rattling breath, trying to control the way his body shook and his shaft throbbed. Desire sparked into a full-out inferno of need. He knocked over one of the wingback chairs in his haste as he turned and pressed her back against the wall, bracing his feet to steady them both. Wanting to feel every exquisite inch of her inside and out.
“Who said I’m playing,” she answered, her eyes twin points of emerald flame that seared his senses, burning away all thought, all reason, leaving only the throbbing rush in his blood that told him to take her fast and hard. The jets of the gas lamps grew dangerously high, making their frosted glass shades crack.
“If you are, it’s a dangerous game. I won’t give you my soul.”
“I don’t want your soul. What I want is far more carnal.” Lilly’s sultry gaze never left his as she slowly and deliberately slid one hand down between them, deftly undoing the buttons on his black pants. She captured the hot, hard length of him in her hand and stroked it up and down, cupping it in her wicked fingers and pressing it against her slick wet heat. He pulsed and ached, using every shred of sanity he had not to sink in to the hilt.
“Last chance,” he whispered harshly, trying to maintain his control and failing miserably. A sheen of fine perspiration glowed on her skin, turning her into a gilt goddess.
“You’re safe with me. I promise you, your soul is your own,” she replied.
Colt couldn’t take any more. He sank into her, letting her heat sear away all rational thought. Sparks popped before his vision as her warm smoothness tightened and convulsed around him. Lilly cried out, her head tilting back, her eyes closed. Deep within him something snapped, unleashing a flood of emotion. His chest tightened, constricting around his heart, making the ache and throb extend to every inch of him. For the first time there was peace—not the lull of it, but the absolute certainty that this one moment was perfect and complete. And God help him, he never wanted it to end.
She met him measure for measure, her breath in frantic little pants, their bodies in unison in a run to the finish. She pitched against him, her hips rocking, her fingers digging into his shoulders, all of her tightening around him as she cried out. The fire roared out of the hearth in a blast of heat and light as though tethered to their response, sending the settee, wingback chairs, and tea table up in a blaze. For Colt, it was like being snockered on Kentucky Red Eye, only with a mule kick to the head to boot. He couldn’t think or feel beyond where they connected together, skin to slick skin. Her heart was still pounding so hard he could feel it in his own chest. She clung to him, and he wasn’t positive he could let her go.
Chapter 23
Lilly waited until late that night when his warm chest beneath her cheek rose and fell with a slow, steady rhythm. They lay skin to skin beneath the blankets and velvet coverlet, which were warm and heavy. A sense of false security, to be sure, but oh so comfortable.
Outside, the room still smelled of smoke. Remnants of the sitting room continued to smolder from the fire, which had responded to her emotions. Soot streaked the ceiling. She hadn’t realized making love to a Hunter could be dangerous, not just to your soul, of course, but the room around you. Her response to him had gone to the very marrow of her bones, calling forth powers she didn’t even realize she had, let alone could control.
Certain he wouldn’t wake, she carefully slipped out from the covers, her skin dimpling with the chill of the air. On silent bare feet she padded toward the discarded pile of Colt’s belongings and opened his pack. She pulled out the oilcloth package containing his portion of the Book, her hands tingling. The Book wasn’t just a historical remnant or long-kept journal of knowledge. It held power. It radiated a warm, throbbing power that shimmied up her arms, up her torso to the top of her head, raising all the hairs along the way. She held the key to everything she’d ever wanted right here in her hands. The key to her bargain with Rathe to become human. The start of Colt and the Chosen reuniting the Book of Legend and holding the Gates of Nyx closed.
A twinge of insecurity grew larger in the bottom of her throat, just above her heart, making it difficult to breathe. Ever since they’d begun to look for the Book, it had become very clear to Lilly that both the Darkin and the Hunters would do anything to possess it. Having it with them only increased their risk, and Colt rode a fine enough line as it was. Alone, the two of them were hardly enough to fight off a group of trail bandits or Darkin determined to get it.
She held the Book, cold and hard, to her chest, letting herself fill up with the vibration of it traveling straight through her. Then she held it out. “No more thinking, Lillith Marie Arliss,” she whispered, voice thick with emotion. “You know what must be done.
Do
it!”
Do
it!”
The Book vanished in a shift of smoky particles.
Sending it to Winn’s office at the jail might not be the best idea, but it was certainly safer than risking it on the journey to Bodie. The Book would be there, waiting for them. And for once she might be able to do something to help keep Colt safe. Well, as safe as she could manage, at any rate. She knew Colt well enough to know if she had told him of her plan, he would’ve never agreed. He was all about doing things himself and wouldn’t want the Book out of his sight, even to protect it.
She clasped her hands together, waiting until they grew warm, then started to separate them, letting the glowing green ball in her hands expand until it was the shape and size of the Book she’d just sent away. She tucked the replica in Colt’s pack, then carefully slipped back into the bed beside his big warm body. Now, should anyone think to relieve Colt of his prize, they’d have nothing in their hands but a faux book. The real section of the manuscript was safe. She planned to keep it that way for as long as it took.
They left the hotel before first light, Colt dressed in his usual garb of denim, a button-down shirt, and his hat. The only thing he still wore that she’d given him yesterday was the long brown duster. Lilly had donned her adventurer’s clothing once more. It was light-colored and would be more comfortable in the heat than denim, and far more practical than a bustled gown while riding.
“I still don’t understand why we’re leaving so early,” she muttered, readjusting her position on his lap.
“Did you see what happened to that hotel room?”
She blushed furiously. “Yes, but—”
“But nothing. They’re going to have to completely tear it apart and rebuild. And one night’s tariff isn’t going to pay for that, and we don’t have extra time to stick around while they sort it all out.”
They moved slowly down out of the mountain trails toward the desert floor. The breaking light of dawn cast them into a long, solitary shadow moving among those of the saguaro cacti, their thick prickly arms raised to greet the sun.
At least they weren’t riding into it. She wasn’t looking forward to another few long days in the saddle because of how sore it would make her, but then those days were precious to her as well. After the Chosen brought the Book of Legend together, there was no telling what would happen. This could be the last time she had a chance to be with Colt.
“Once I meet up with my brothers and we join the Book together, then we can set about freeing you from Rathe.” Colt sounded bold and confident. Too bad she didn’t share his certainty that such a thing was possible.
She hated to voice her growing doubts, but the closer they got to restoring the Book, the more doubtful she was becoming of her own happy ending. “Do you really think Rathe is going to do you or me any favors once you close the Gates?”
Colt tightened his arms around her and leaned down, putting his lips close to her ear, eliciting an all-over body shiver from her. “Once we have the Book, we can do whatever we wish. Rathe won’t have a choice.”
She sighed and twisted to gaze into his shadowed face. “You know this isn’t just about the Book of Legend anymore, don’t you?” She pressed a small fist to her aching sternum. “It’s bigger than that. The prophecy about the Chosen is true. Without the three of you, we lose. The world ends. It’s not enough to put the Book together, it will take all three of you to close the Gates. The
three
of you to stand against Rathe.”
three
of you to stand against Rathe.”
He grunted. “I’m flattered you think I’m that important,” he eyed her critically, “but right now it’s not about either of those things. We have only one thing to focus on, and that’s bringing the pieces of the Book together so we can close the Gates of Nyx.”
She couldn’t deny that it was an excellent place to start, but it wasn’t going to be enough. She needed to do whatever she could to ensure Colt made it back to his brothers intact. He might not believe in the prophecy, but gut deep Lilly had always known he was part of the Chosen. And as such, he was more important than even the Book itself. If the prophecy was true, it would take the powers of all three of the Chosen to seal the Gates and defeat the rise of the Darkin.
A flash of copper light blazed at the horizon just over Colt’s shoulder. Lilly gasped. “That can’t be good.”
Colt turned to see what had made her stiffen. For a moment he frowned, thinking the sun was rising from the wrong direction. Then he instantly saw that it was not the sun rising.
The hard-packed ground trembled beneath them. At first he thought it might be an earthquake, but there were no sounds of grinding earth or rolling motion to the land ... and the tremors were getting stronger, rather than weaker. Whatever it was, it was moving quickly toward them.
Colt had a bad feeling about this. A really bad feeling. “Whatever it is, it’s big and metal and headed our way,” he muttered as the earth continued to tremble beneath them.
Colt pressed hard against the accelerator panel in his horse’s sides. Tempus took a few steps and lurched into a trot that quickly became a gallop. Puffs of dust trailed along in a growing stream behind them as the horse picked up the pace, moving at a steady clip across the stretch of desert.
But Tempus was no match for the mechanical beast closing in. Across the sand and rock came the metallic clank and thunder of an enormous machine, growing louder. Colt glanced behind them. What was once a glint became a blinding glare as a gigantic mechanical brass scorpion rumbled closer, a column of white steam following it, glowing with orange light as the sun rose higher.
“Sister Mary Margaret Margarita. What in the blazes is it?”
Lilly twisted to get a look and squeaked at the sight. “Can’t this bucket of bolts move any faster?”
Colt glanced at the timer set into the saddle. At this pace, Tempus would need a rewind in less than half an hour. There was only so far the machine could go at this speed. But even that meant nothing. The scorpion was still gaining on them.
“What does it want?”
“Breakfast?” Lilly suggested unhelpfully.
“Not if I can help it,” Colt muttered, clutching Lilly tighter about the middle. He gave the reins a pull and headed for the smudge of purple mountains in the distance.
The ground grew so unstable as the scorpion closed in that Tempus faltered, stumbling to his knees. Colt and Lilly were jettisoned from the saddle. They sailed over the horse’s head to the ground, a tumble of limbs, the pack and Colt’s hat flying in different directions.
Colt couldn’t breathe. Pain throbbed in every bone. He heard Lilly groan and felt her shift against him. Good, she wasn’t dead. Neither of them were.
Yet.
He struggled to scramble to his knees, knowing that they needed to make it to the safety of the rocks.
Yet.
He struggled to scramble to his knees, knowing that they needed to make it to the safety of the rocks.
Suddenly everything went cold as a shadow blotted out the sun. Colt twisted, glancing up, then scuffled through the dirt, trying to put himself between the enormous, hinged, metallic claw and Lilly.
With a hiss of steam and the ratcheting click of moving gears, the massive brass claw extended to snap around Colt’s waist and lift him from the ground. Lilly scrabbled for Colt’s pack, then screamed as the second claw picked her up from the ground, leaving them both suspended twenty feet above the desert floor, level with one another.
She struggled, pushing and prodding against the claw that held her in its grasp. They rose together until they were level with the enormous bulbous glass eyes of the scorpion and the platform in between them. At the helm of the enormous machine was a man in a red brocade jacket with a black broad-brimmed hat and black satin cravat, which matched his black goatee and thin elegantly waxed mustache.
“Dr. Adder Morpheus, at your service,” the man introduced himself to Colt in a smooth Southern drawl. He touched the edge of his hat with a gray-gloved hand and gave a slight bow as he winked at Lilly.
Lilly grimaced. “Hardly. What do you want, Morpheus?”
“You know this man?” Colt demanded between his clenched teeth.
Dr. Morpheus didn’t even give her a chance to answer. “Oh, Miss Lilly and I go way back, don’t we, darlin’? Her father and I were old friends.”
Colt’s eyes narrowed with distrust.
Still struggling to break free from the metal claw, Lilly glared at the man. “He’s a snake-oil salesman,” she said with disdain.
“Inventor and doctor of extraordinary curatives,” Dr. Morpheus corrected her mildly.
“Either way, you’re Rathe’s,” she countered. “
Doctor
Morpheus gave up his soul in exchange for immortality. Now he exists by stealing the life and souls of his customers.” The sarcasm in her tone came through loud and clear. He certainly wasn’t a doctor, and their health was not at the top of his agenda.
Doctor
Morpheus gave up his soul in exchange for immortality. Now he exists by stealing the life and souls of his customers.” The sarcasm in her tone came through loud and clear. He certainly wasn’t a doctor, and their health was not at the top of his agenda.
“So he’s a demon like you?” Colt’s fingers itched to get at the sting shooter, but his arms were pinned so tightly to his sides in the scorpion’s grasp that he couldn’t move a muscle.
“Of a fashion,” Lilly answered as she glared at Dr. Morpheus. “Are you going to tell us what you want or not?”
“Tsk, tsk, darlin’. Your manners have truly become appalling since your dear daddy’s demise.” He twisted the waxed end of his mustache around his finger, making it curl like a sly smile.
Lilly clenched her fists tightly. “If you don’t want to risk the same fate, I suggest you let him go.”
Dr. Morpheus chuckled. “I’m only holding on to your young man because I do believe you’re holding something of interest to me. I suggest we make an exchange.”
“Stand in line, Morpheus,” Lilly said with asperity. “You’re not the only one interested in the Book.”
“Yes, but I
am
the one with the scorpion at my disposal.”
am
the one with the scorpion at my disposal.”
“True.”
“So be a good girl, won’t you, and just hand over the pages to your uncle Morpheus.”
“Won’t do you any good.”
“Oh, I highly doubt that. You see, that Book is my ticket out of Hell, or should I say more like my pardon.”
Colt let out a bark of laughter. “I should have known a con artist like you would make a deal with the devil.”
Dr. Morpheus grinned and glanced over at Lilly, a knowing look passing over his face that Colt didn’t like one bit. “Oh, we’re used to making deals with all sorts of folks, aren’t we, darlin’? What’d you promise this young man of yours in exchange for his help?”
“That doesn’t concern you.” Lilly’s mouth flattened into a grim line.
Dr. Morpheus turned back to Colt. “Well, son, let me just say that whatever this delightful young lady promised you, it’ll hardly compare to what
I
can offer you if you’ll just have her hand over those pages.”
I
can offer you if you’ll just have her hand over those pages.”
“Oh, and what’s that?” Colt replied.
“Your life.” To illustrate his point, Dr. Morpheus pulled a lever on the panel in front of him, and the mechanical claw of the scorpion squeezed tighter, making stars pop in Colt’s vision. A large glass-tipped scorpion tail arced into view, a vile yellow-green liquid sloshing around inside the enormous glass stinger. “That stinger is filled with oil of vitrol. Just one prick, and you’ll have about an hour left to live, if you’re lucky. Sometimes the acid works faster.”
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