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Authors: Sherri L. King

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Caress of Flame (6 page)

BOOK: Caress of Flame
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2She steeled her heart. “I’ll do whatever I damn well please and there’s nothing you can do about it.” She hated herself for the words that came out of her mouth, but the ever-present pain in her heart drove her emotions and she couldn’t stop. She didn’t want to strip. She had never wanted to strip. But it had been so easy after she’d done it once and then again, and again. Here was her chance to stop and never have to worry about money again and she was turning it down in the rudest way possible. Isis could have kicked herself for her foolish pride, but it was too late. She’d already made her decision. She couldn’t let Flare take care of her like a man might provide for his mistress or prostitute. Doing that would be far worse than stripping in her eyes.

Flare’s grip on her hand tightened and his flesh grew alarmingly hot. “I will not let you do it. If need be, I will carry you out of that club every night as I did last night. I care not that your people will see me for what I am—an Incinerator, a Shikar—I care only that you stop this line of work.”

Isis tried to pull her hand back but he wouldn’t let go and only held it tighter, his skin nearly singeing hers it had grown so hot. “You can’t stop me,” she heard herself say and immediately she knew it was the wrong thing to say to him.

“You give me little choice,” he said tightly. “You know I could keep you here, against your will, forever if I so choose to.”

“You wouldn’t,” she said with a show of confidence she did not feel.

“I won’t let you keep doing this.”

“You have no choice in the matter,” she told him plainly. “Now,” she said more gently, “take me home.”

Flare stood swiftly and jerked her to her feet. She fell, off balance, against him. One of his hands held her arm with easy strength and the other tangled in the hair at the nape of her neck. Isis saw what he meant to do and there was no fight in her. She wanted it as much as he did. Maybe even more.

The heat of his lips on hers was intense. She gasped, opening her mouth and accepting his tongue. He kissed her forcefully, bending her to his will with nothing but the strength of their combined passion. Heat wafted off him in waves and she instinctively knew this was no simple kiss of seduction, but a forceful reminder of who had the upper hand in this bizarre situation she found herself in.

His kiss ended as abruptly as it had begun and she nearly fell against him as she fought to keep kissing him. They broke apart, both breathless and shaken. “I’ll take you home,” he said and reached for her once again.

3
Chapter Five

 

The world fell away, the great stone chamber disappearing, and she felt that strange sensation of flying at high speed, almost as if she were caught in the path of a hurricane.

Seconds passed—years could have passed and she wouldn’t be the wiser—as she clung to him with her eyes shut tight. Then she felt the ground beneath her feet once more and when she opened her eyes she saw that she was at The Pink Pit, beside her car, in the dead of night.

“Neat trick. But I don’t have my keys.”

Flare disappeared. Isis, startled, looked around but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

The man had simply vanished before her eyes. A second later he reappeared and handed over her purse. She took it, not even wanting to know how he’d gotten the thing, and automatically dug for her car keys.

“Okay,” she said slowly, dragging the word out. Isis shook her head as if to clear it.

“Get in,” she said finally, unlocking the car’s doors with a press of a button on her key.

“Will you try to dance tonight?” he asked.

Isis heard the key word in his question. “Try”. He still meant to stop her from doing her job. She admired his tenacity. She shook her head again. “I’m not scheduled for tonight,” she told him simply as she cranked the car and pulled away from the nearly empty parking lot.

“God, I wonder what time it is,” she mused aloud. The night was deep and dark, well underway, but how far?

“It’s five and a half hours until sunup,” Flare told her promptly.

“How do you know that?” She glanced at him for a second then resumed looking at the road before her.

“I can feel the sun.”

“Right now? In the dead of night?” Isis asked, incredulous. This magic man was so full of surprises that she wasn’t sure her heart could take much more.

“Shikars cannot stand the sun. Well,
most
cannot,” Flare quickly rectified. “Its rays are too strong and it burns our skin.”

“So you won’t be watching me by day, only by night?” she exclaimed, nonplussed.

“You won’t need protection by day,” he told her gently. “The Daemons can only come out by night. You need not fear that I would ever willingly place you in danger.”

Flare’s voice was soothing, reassuring, calming to her frayed nerves.

Isis managed a chuckle. “Well, that’s a relief.”

“I mean what I say.” His voice was now diamond hard.

3Isis glanced at him, meeting his incredible gaze with her own for a few short seconds before she was forced to focus once more on the road. “I know you mean it,”

she said softly. “And I am grateful.”

“I do not require your gratitude.”

“What do you require then?” she shot back.

“I require you to stop hurting so much. Whatever it is that has broken you, we can overcome it together if you would just let me champion you.” Flare’s words were flat and matter of fact, as if he truly believed in them.

But Isis knew better. Nothing could overcome her demons. Nothing and no one but herself, and she was already so tired of fighting them that she was truly, spiritually exhausted. “You wouldn’t understand,” she told him finally.

“I would,” he argued.

“Look,” she began, “I don’t want to talk about it. I’m not broken so don’t think you need to try to fix me.”

“But you
are
wounded,” he insisted. “Simply tell me who wounded you and I will stamp them out utterly.”

Isis believed him. “You don’t have to worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

“Last night you could not take care of yourself,” he reminded her mercilessly.

Taking a deep calming breath, she focused intently on the feel of the road beneath her tires. “I can’t tell you,” she said. “I’ve only told one other person and she couldn’t believe me. You wouldn’t understand, okay? I don’t even understand it. Let’s just leave it at that.”

“I will leave it for now. I can see how it upsets you. But we will soon cross a bridge that will lead to our joining, and I won’t have you frightened of my touch.”

“I’m not afraid,” she lied.

“Then stop this car and join with me now.”

Isis laughed, she just couldn’t help herself. “I will not have sex with you in my car.

There isn’t enough room to maneuver anyway.”

“I’ll manage,” he insisted.

“I’ll bet you would,” Isis said with a smile. She tried hard to ignore the rising passion the sound of his voice inspired in her. And when he said such romantic things her knees went weak and her heart melted—but she was determined not to let her emotions overcome her. That would get her nowhere.

Nowhere but in his arms.

And why was she so afraid of that—for she was indeed afraid. Her past was over and done with. She should have jumped this warrior’s bones several times over by now.

He was the sexiest being she’d ever seen and everything about him was a sort of sensual seduction, entrancing her, addicting her to him.

3All this and she’d only known him for a day. She felt like a fool, but there was no way she could ignore her attraction. Flare was just so…delicious. Isis could hardly stand it. She was getting wet just listening to him talk for Christ’s sake. It was overwhelming to think how she would react with him inside her. And she wanted that—she wanted to join with him. But the question was…
could
she?

Later, after they’d pulled into her driveway, Flare raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. He didn’t say anything, just released her hand and got out of the car without even glancing her way. He came around to her side of the car and gallantly opened the door for her, yet still he held his silence. Isis wondered what he was thinking as she followed him to her front door.

Flare was thinking of how he could seduce her into opening her heart to him. He didn’t just want her body—he wanted all of her. He was breathless with desire. He wanted to be a part of her thoughts always, and he wanted to be physically and spiritually one with her as often as possible. Flare’s heart beat a heavy staccato in his breast—it raced every time he looked at Isis. His cock was hard and heavy in his pants, and he knew that if Isis were to just glance down she’d see how much he needed her.

He wouldn’t hide his body’s reaction to her though. She needed to become accustomed to his desire, for he knew it would never wane, only grow stronger with each passing heartbeat.

Something itched at the back of his mind and he was suddenly alert to his surroundings, not just the fascinating woman at his side. This was a familiar feeling—

and it didn’t bode well.

Isis rummaged to find her house key. Flare pushed her aside and forced her door open with nothing but the palm of his hand against the wood. He left black, singed fingerprints behind in the wood. “Get in,” he told her, pushing her inside with a strength that frightened her. The air around her was suddenly boiling hot.

“What’s going on—”

“Get inside.
Now
.” He pulled the door shut on her without waiting for her acquiescence.

Isis stamped her foot in frustration. “Fine,” she called out, knowing he would hear her. “I’ll just stay here then. Damn it.”

* * * * *

Flare felt the dangerous threat that hung in the air like a palpable thing and knew with certainty that a Daemon was near. But where? Daemons were tricky bastards, having mastered the art of Traveling in recent years. They could disappear and reappear at will, just as he could. Though their numbers were dwindling, those that survived the Shikars’ justice were growing stronger with each passing day and Flare knew the one he was about to face was a nasty bugger. He could feel it.

Looking around carefully, he stepped out into the open, welcoming an attack. Flare was a multiple Caste Shikar. He could Travel, Incinerate, use his Foils and Hunt almost 3as well as those of the Hunter Caste. Mostly he was an Incinerator, for he much preferred to fight with flame and his fire-making abilities were legendary among his people, second only to the warrior named Cinder. He let a flame lick up his arm, not feeling its burn in the least, illuminating the impenetrable darkness around him. “Come forward and meet me, vile sub-creature,” he called out, hoping to goad his adversary out of its hiding place.

Shocked when three Daemons stepped out from the border of trees, Flare steeled himself for the battle ahead. It had been so long since he’d seen a pod of Daemons—not since the great battle at the Gates—and he knew then that Isis must be powerful indeed for the creatures to make such a valiant effort to claim her.

He let the flame lick up his arm and form a halo about his head. He marched with long strides toward his enemies, carefully studying them to see how they were going to react in this battle. Soon his whole body was ablaze with golden light as he let the Daemons see the strength of his power. Fiery red Foils shot out from his knuckles like swords, giving him over two feet of razor-sharp, smoldering claws with which to combat his prey.

All three of the Daemons turned and fled back into the trees. Flare Traveled, disappearing from his station in the yard and reappearing in the path of the fleeing beasts. The Daemons snarled and halted, then without warning they all struck at once, coming at him from all directions.

Flare let the flames of his power consume him. He used all of his brute strength to stand against their attack. He jumped several feet into the air and came down with his Foils at the ready, cutting one creature completely in half with one blow and, with a powerful strike of his hands, severely wounding the other two. Still the creatures would not stop in their struggle, and Flare knew they would fight until the very last moment when he had their hearts aflame in his hand.

 

Isis watched this from a window, seeing Flare light up the night like a Roman candle as he—there was no other word for it—
stalked
up to three dark figures just beyond the line of trees around her house. The flames around him illuminated the dark night, and bright, red-hot blades seemed to shoot forth from his hands, giving him claws. Then he flew straight into the air, coming down with all of his power. Though he was large and muscular he danced easily around his adversaries and landed several more blows, his movements unbelievably graceful. She could no longer see much of the three Daemons—if that was indeed what they were—as Flare’s bright flames grew ever more intense, but she could tell that he was deadly serious in his mission to protect her.

He would not stop until the threat to her was finished. The Daemons didn’t stand a chance.

A sound behind her startled her and she turned.

Isis caught her breath painfully and swallowed a cry.

3She was face-to-face with a seven-foot, three-hundred-pound monster. There was no other word for what this being was—Daemon, whatever, she didn’t care, it was a
monster
plain and simple. Its face was a mess of mangled parts, if it could be called a face. Its body was thick and black and it looked like it was covered in goo. It had overly long arms and spikes from shoulders to wrists. Its legs were shaped like a dog’s—they looked backward—and its feet were massive claws that dug grooves into the wood of her living room floor.

“You are one ugly motherfucker,” she whispered, more to herself than to the beast overshadowing her. It grunted and said something in gibberish she couldn’t understand. The sound of its voice was like the sound someone would make if they raked their fingers across a rusty car door. She screamed despite herself, truly horrified by the monster’s voice, and darted around the hulking brute, racing deeper into her house, heading for the back door.

The horrible, rending feel of her flesh being torn washed over her back. She actually felt the beast’s claws penetrate her flesh, one by one, like ten-inch nails, and she screamed uncontrollably as it ravaged her back with but one swipe of its hand. The pain was immediate and intense. She stumbled but forced herself to keep running despite the overwhelming, mind-blowing agony gouged into the skin of her back. Isis knew that if she let the monster get close again it would do far worse than claw her back.

BOOK: Caress of Flame
12.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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