Blue Voodoo: A Romantic Retelling of Bluebeard (The Hidden Kingdom Series Book 2) (28 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Blackstream

Tags: #Romance, #adult fairy tales, #voodoo romance, #adult fairy tales with sex

BOOK: Blue Voodoo: A Romantic Retelling of Bluebeard (The Hidden Kingdom Series Book 2)
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Dominique moaned, arching up off the ground to chase his kiss. Julien took advantage of the sound, sweeping his tongue in to caress hers. She wrapped her arms around him, held him against her body as though she’d never let him go.

Every moment the kiss went on, it grew more desperate, more vigorous. Languid breaths came faster, until they were both panting, straining to get closer.

“Too much clothing.” Julien groped at her costume, trying to figure out how to remove it without resorting to destruction.

Dominique laughed again, but this time it was breathy, robbed of force by the passion of the kiss. She didn’t speak, but dropped her hands to her clothes, removing them herself. Grateful, Julien abandoned his attempts to help her and went to work shucking his own clothing instead.

When the moonlight finally revealed Dominique in all her unabashed glory, Julien went still, struck by the perfection of his lover. The years had been good to her, filling out her curves the way younger women could only dream of, softening her enough to let her flesh give in to his grip, fill his palms as he pulled her against him.

A gasp escaped her throat as the hard planes of his body met the lines of her own. The stillness that had possessed him a moment ago shattered. Suddenly he couldn’t move fast enough, couldn’t touch enough of her skin, breathe enough of her scent. He was mad with need for her, his sanity losing the battle for an orchestrated seduction and devolving into an animalistic desire to claim, to mate, to—

“Julien.”

Her hands closed in his hair, holding his head prisoner. Warm waves of mind-numbing heat melted his thoughts faster than he could form them. It took him a long minute of blinking as his brain struggled to come to itself again before he registered her face and the serious, ferocious look in her eyes.

“What?” he mumbled, inordinately proud of himself for that one syllable.

“If you ever leave me again, your beard will not be the only thing eternally blue.”

Julien blinked again, the only movement he was capable of at the moment. Then he registered what she’d said and scowled.

“Woman, you would threaten me on our wedding night? Have you no sense of timing?”

Dominique tightened her grip on his hair and gave it one sharp tug. “Do you understand me?”

“Yes, yes.” Julien winced at her merciless grasp. “Cursed if I leave, I understand.” Dominique’s grip loosened and he gave her a wolfish smile. “You know, there are other ways of convincing me to stay.”

He’d half expected a protest of some kind, a burst of indignation. Instead, Dominique returned his wicked grin with one of her own—and arched her hips, cradling him between her legs. She slid her fingers into his hair, pulling his mouth back to hers. Their lips met as the heated length of his body slid into the welcoming grip of her own.

The air vanished from Julien’s lungs. There was no breath, no need to breathe. Dominique’s breath would sustain him, the sweet air from her moans as her lips teased his. He snarled against Dominique’s mouth, renewed the vigor of the kiss as he thrust deeper inside her. She cried out, hands tugging on his hair. He swallowed the sound, searching for more with every plunge inside her, every snap of his hips.

Dominique’s head thrashed from side to side, the moans falling from her mouth bleeding into one another until it was one endless keen. Her magic beat against her skin, thrumming against his touch. The well of her power inside him rose in response, rubbing against his insides like a purring cat. The sensation that would have frightened him only yesterday, would have had him escaping to his ship and the freedom of the waves, now soothed him.

He pressed deeper inside her, straining as though he could meld them into one form, one body. Passion sizzled along his nerves like a thousand bolts of lightning. Her hips moved with his, meeting his thrusts with a wild abandon of her own. They raced together for the shining edge in the distance, the release that had been too long coming.

Dominique’s scream exploded into the warm air of the bayou, her body going rigid in Julien’s arms seconds before his own release tore through him with gale wind force. Power echoed in her dying scream and it beat against his body like the rays of a strange sun, hot and cold at the same time. He dropped his face to her neck, alternately biting, kissing, and licking as the ripples of pleasure washed over him, left him without coherent thought. There was nothing but pleasure and her warm, sweat-glistening body beneath him.

They lay together on the grass, limbs tangled as their breathing evened out. They might have dozed off, Julien couldn’t be sure. It wasn’t until his skin twitched with the sensation of being watched that he stirred, realized he held a sleeping Dominique in his arms.

He scanned the darkness, all senses on alert, ready to shed his human form at a moment’s notice. He’d never been so invigorated, so rested, so alive with power and vitality. If there was danger nearby, it had picked an unfortunate time to make itself known.

Shadows danced all around him, slivers of moonlight spearing the canopy above their little clearing and revealing pieces of their surroundings in brief puddles of silver light. The trees swayed in the soft breeze, stirred by air laden with moisture from the surrounding water. Julien listened closely, forcing himself to focus until the noises that had been nothing but background became clear. Buzzing insects, rustling animals, sighing wind. Rippling water.

Julien blinked, stirring his power, letting his eyes shift slightly so he could use the improved vision of his other form. The colors that had seemed so monochrome a moment ago sharpened into vibrancy. The muted blues and blacks splintered, exploded, and the brownish green water ceased to be a single sheet of shadow, morphing into a blanket sprinkled with leaves, twigs, dead insects…and scales.

Parlangua.

As if the beast had somehow sensed it had been discovered, it opened its eyes. Twin orbs gazed at him, a kaleidoscope of greens and yellows dancing together in a stare that pierced the soul. Unlike the last time Julien had seen those eyes, this time there was no hatred in them, no burning fury. They were just eyes. Watching. Waiting.

Julien glanced down at a still sleeping Dominique, debating on whether to wake her. Her face, so recently bright with the most beautiful smile he’d ever been blessed to see, was now smooth as new silk, peaceful in sleep. The tension that held her prisoner when she was awake, that forced her to maintain such tight control lest her people see that the voodoo queen they so feared was merely human herself, was gone. She was free, if only for the span of a night. He wouldn’t take that from her.

He glanced back at the water, watching as Parlangua raised its head. He half expected the monster to bare its teeth, to threaten him, call him out. But it merely floated there in the water, seeming content to wait however long it took. Curiosity piqued, Julien made his decision and gently extricated himself from Dominique’s arms. She sighed and rolled over, the warmth of her skin and that one breath of sound almost tempting him back into her arms. Parlangua’s stare grew heavier, a firm reminder that his presence was requested. Smothering a sigh, Julien turned.

One step was as far as he got before Dominique’s warning came back to him, reminding him what would happen if he left her again. Even though he wasn’t going far, Julien decided precautions were called for. He took a moment to gather his clothes, carefully laying them in her line of sight, a sign that he had not left. Another moment of consideration prompted him to take his sword with him to meet Parlangua, but he didn’t take it from its sheath.

Holding on to his enhanced vision, Julien easily navigated the marshy land without tripping over the myriad of extended tree roots or losing his balance by stepping into one of the several small sinkholes left by the fluctuating water. He arrived at the bank without incident, attention firmly locked on his toothy guest.

“Are you here to congratulate us, then?”

Slime green eyes rolled up to meet his. “Should I be?” Brownish liquid sluiced over the scales of its snout. “If you wanted my congratulations, it seems to me an invitation to your wedding would have been called for. I refer of course to the second wedding that you had over yonder amidst those trees. The first ceremony was a farce, and a pathetic one at that.”

“Dominique didn’t want you there.” He could have made some excuse, told Parlangua that they’d wanted it to be a private ceremony, that no one had really been invited and those creatures who had shown up had done so of their own initiative, but he didn’t. Parlangua knew Dominique was angry, pretending she wasn’t would be a waste of both their time. After a moment of consideration, he added, “I did try to change her mind.”

Parlangua raised a claw from beneath the water, lifting its head to scratch lightly at the pale yellow scales of its throat. “She will regret her decision later. We have been friends for far too long for her little grudge to stand. With that in mind, I decided to make things easier on her by being at the ceremony anyway, hidden just beneath the water not more than ten feet from where you shared your lovely vows. It will make the coming apology easier on us both.”

Julien tapped his still-sheathed sword against his leg. “I thought I saw you.” Fortunately, Dominique hadn’t. Her beautiful brown eyes had been locked on Julien, holding him in their own little word as they said their vows before the loa and a few creatures who’d managed to learn of the voodoo queen’s second wedding ceremony. He would have missed Parlangua himself if his avian half hadn’t stolen a moment to look through his eyes at the blushing bride. Eyesight that sharp didn’t miss anything. He’d almost said something to Dominique, but he hadn’t wanted to ruin the ceremony—again. “She will get over it. Eventually she will admit to herself that they had to die. We never would have been truly safe, could never have completely relaxed as long as they lived. You did her a favor by taking the choice from her.”

“Indeed.” Parlangua licked its lips with a bloodstained tongue. “They tasted terrible.”

“They would.” Julien tightened his hand on the hilt of the sword. “I wish I could have been there. I would gladly have sliced them into convenient bite-sized pieces for you.”

“Wouldn’t have helped. Evil has a taint worse than any poison. Sticks to the palette.” As if remembering a foul taste, Parlangua dipped its snout under the water, opening and closing its jaw a few times to wash out its mouth. “I cannot say I appreciate the double standard. I ate the women to protect Dominique while simultaneously feeding myself, two birds with one stone so to speak. For this I’m treated as a monster. And yet, I see no rebuke for you for killing Narcisse—and you didn’t even eat him.”

“There was nothing left to eat. The wind scattered Narcisse’s ashes to the four corners of the world the moment after my lightning did him in.” Satisfaction warmed Julien’s tone and he smiled. “Besides, Dominique agreed that I could handle him. She has no reason to be put out with me because she failed to stipulate any restrictions on what constituted just punishment.”

Parlangua snorted. “A double standard.” Suddenly its eyes sharpened. “You are her husband in truth now.”

“Yes.” Julien glanced back at Dominique, hardly able to believe it himself. “I’m surprised she agreed to have me.”

“A weakness gained at a young age often pursues one through life.” Parlangua’s voice was mild, conversational. “You were her first love. Few ever recover from that.” Parlangua made a strange sound in its throat, halfway between a grunt and a chuckle. “I see you’ve bonded.”

Julien froze, realizing he’d been rubbing his fingers over his chest above his heart. The thrum of Dominique’s power lingered against the pads of his fingers, a strange sensation that wasn’t at all unpleasant. He dropped his hand, annoyed that Parlangua had witnessed his distraction. “We have.”

“Not so scary anymore then?” Parlangua slid its head back and forth in the water, almost playfully. Ripples grew, surrounding the beast in a center of undulating waves.

The sly satisfaction in Parlangua’s tone made Julien itch to thump it on the head with the broad side of his sword, but he resisted the urge. Barely. “It was simply pointless to put it off. Once I realized that denying the bond didn’t save me from feeling a connection to her, it just seemed futile to keep fighting it.” He bit the inside of his cheek, firmly keeping himself from adding that he’d finally realized he loved Dominique—truly, foolishly, completely loved her. The bond was merely a technicality.

“Your brethren do not seem so foolish now, I’d wager.”

The happy afterglow Julien had planned to wallow in for the rest of the night threatened to crack in the face of Parlangua’s smugness. He needed to leave now before his mood was irreparably soured. “I should be getting back to my bride.” He pivoted on one heel to leave, and smirked at the crocodilian monster over his shoulder. “By the way, I’m so pleased to see your eye has grown back.”

Parlangua growled and Julien started whistling, as he proceeded to return to his still-sleeping wife. He’d taken three steps toward Dominique when Parlangua’s voice slithered across his ears.

“You have a debt to a god now. I sense his mark on you.”

“A petty attempt to upset me, Parlangua, I’d have thought better of you. Yes, I have a debt, and I will serve Ogou as I promised. It is a small price to pay for his help saving Dominique.”

Parlangua chortled, unsettling glee in the hoarse sound. “It is not Ogou’s spirit that marks you, foolish pirate.”

Julien whirled around, his heart suddenly in his throat, his breath hardened to ice in his lungs. “What do you mean?”

He received no answer to his question. Only the gently rippling water of the bayou and the memory of a green-gold gaze that would haunt his sleep.

Epilogue

 

“They’re here.”

Saamal, god, prince of the Kingdom of Mu, and member of the ruling council for the Hidden Kingdom, put down the goblet of wine he’d been twirling in his grip for the last hour. The gold made a soft metallic clink as it touched the polished wood of the side table, glowing as the firelight danced over its intricately carved sides. Not for the first time, Saamal wondered where Kirill had found the funds for such rich furnishings. The vampire wouldn’t reveal his sources, saying only that reputation was everything and if they wanted to be a true ruling council, they had to present themselves as rich and powerful.

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