Defying Destiny (37 page)

children?” she asked.

Nash smiled in the darkness. “He was

the sun and Rella was the rain. Together

they made a glorious rainbow to be

admired and envied by all who knew

them. The twins and Carsha were their

perfect little flowers. They flourished

under their parents’ tender care.”

“I took their sun away,” Maralee

whispered.

He didn’t deny her claim. The truth

was not always kind.

“If he was the sun and Rella the rain

and their children the flowers, then where

did you fit in?” Maralee asked, still

clinging to him.

“I guess I was the dirt,” he said and

chuckled. “Yeah, I was definitely the

dirt.”

“The dirt?”

“Cort always seemed to outshine me

with his radiant warmth, and I’ve always

been an anchor for the kids. Rella…Rella

just sort of erodes me. Takes little pieces

of me and washes them away. In the past it

was my doubts she eliminated, but

lately…” He trailed off, confused by the

recent change in the relationship between

Rella and himself.

“She…she told me that she loves you,”

Maralee said, anxiously. “Do you feel the

same way about her?”

“Yeah. I love her,” he said without

hesitation. Maralee stiffened, and he

explained his words more clearly. “She’s

like a sister to me.”

“So you don’t have romantic feelings

for her?” Maralee asked hopefully.

He chuckled, giving her an affectionate

squeeze. “Dirt and water make mud,

Maralee. What is romantic about that?”

“Then what am I in your strange little

analogy?” she asked, smiling with relief

and hope.

After

a

moment

of

careful

consideration, he said, “Quartz.”

“Quartz?”

“Beautiful, tiny crystals mixed in with

the dirt. They make the dirt sparkle,

mingling with its particles. The crystals

are a part of the dirt and without it, the dirt

is plain and ugly and very, very alone.”

She laughed and hugged him. “You’re

silly.”

“I’m silly?”

She nodded and laughed again. “I

thought you were going to tell me I was a

flower.”

“You’re as beautiful as a flower. But

flowers fade over time,” he told her,

brushing her hair aside so he could kiss

her neck. She sighed and tilted her head in

submission. “I guess it would be nice to

have you on me,” he growled into her ear.

“I just want to be close to you, mixed until

we can’t tell which is one or the other,

until we become one and the same, until

there is nothing but us. Together as one.”

“Yes,” she agreed breathlessly. “I

want us to be like that.”

His fingers began to work at the

buttons of her shirt while he kissed and

licked and suckled and nibbled along the

side of her neck, her earlobe, her neck

again. He released the final buttons of her

shirt, and lifted both hands to cup her

breasts. She arched back against him. His

fingers pushed the cups of her bustier

down so he could stroke her taunt nipples.

She gasped, hands clinging to his thighs as

she thrust her breasts forward for his

eager perusal.

“Don’t be gentle,” she begged, rubbing

her bottom against his arousal.

He bit her earlobe and pinched her

nipples roughly. She shuddered with

pleasure.

“You’re always so hot,” he growled

into her ear.

“You make me hot,” she whimpered.

She gasped in surprise when he

tumbled her onto her back and settled

between her thighs. He ground himself

against her, cursing the man who had

invented clothing. She always turned him

into this lustful, rutting animal. Strangely,

his complete lack of control seemed to

excite her. She was clinging to his

buttocks with both hands, pressing him

closer, equally eager to complete their

joining. He struggled with the laces at her

waist, breaking the string that secured the

fly of her pants in his fumbling impatience.

She made a sound of desperate protest

when he separated their bodies long

enough to jerk her pants down to her knees

and free his rigid cock from the confines

of his leather pants. She kicked off her

pants impatiently and was only partially

successful, but neither one of them cared.

It was only after he was buried deep

inside of her that they were able to find

the sanity to remove their remaining

clothing. She sought his mouth with hers in

the darkness, as he drove into her deep

and hard. If he was hurting her, she didn’t

offer any indication as she lifted her hips

and met him stroke for stroke.

Long, moments later, they lay still

entwined and gasping from their exertions.

“We should take things more slowly,” he

murmured. “Make it last.”

“That was exquisite,” she purred,

holding him close.

“We always rush,” he told her, “like

we don’t have enough time.”

“It’s not that,” she murmured. “It’s

because we don’t have enough patience.”

He grinned and kissed her tenderly. “I

suppose

you’re

right,”

he

agreed.

“Doesn’t it bother you that you bring out

the worst in me?”

She grinned naughtily. “If that was

your worst, I can’t wait to see your best.”

His answered with a crooked grin. “I

hope you have several hours of free time.”

“I suppose I can free up a little time in

my busy schedule.”

“You’d have to cancel all previous

engagements,” he murmured, giving her a

teasing kiss and drawing away from her.

“Done,” she agreed, wrapping both

arms around his neck to draw him closer

for a deep, lingering kiss.

“If you keep that up, I’ll only need a

couple of minutes,” he warned.

“Then you’ll just have to keep doing it

over and over again until you get it right,”

she whispered, kissing him again, rocking

her hips to stimulate him back to

readiness.

“You are a wicked woman,” he

growled, withdrawing from her body to

prevent himself from getting caught up in

her furiously fast rhythm.

“You like it,” she assured him, her

hands traveling between their bodies to

touch him intimately.

He moved out of her reach. “No,

Maralee, I don’t like it,” he told her, his

voice hard and cold.

“You don’t?”

“No,” he said seriously and then

smiled. “I love it.”

She smacked at him angrily and he

caught her hand. He kissed her wrist, the

palm of her hand. She sighed blissfully.

“Now stop your teasing and lie still

for a while,” he murmured. “I want to

make you sparkle like quartz.”

She chuckled, but it wasn’t long before

she was sparkling and he was seeing

sparks.

“It always happens this way with us,”

Nash murmured in the early hours of the

morning. Maralee was draped over his

bare chest, half asleep, splendidly

exhausted from hours of loving.

“Hmm?” she questioned, too content to

form actual words.

“I come with the intention of talking to

you and then I get carried away in your

intoxicating sensuality,” he said drowsily.

“Um-hmm,”

she

agreed,

eyelids

opening and closing slowly as sleep

beckoned.

“The only time we carry out any deep

conversation is when we’re spitting mad

at each other.”

“Hmm,” she murmured reflectively.

“Then we have to make up with each

other and we end up like this again.”

“Mmm,” she agreed happily.

“The woman is supposed to be the

rational one in these matters.”

“This is as rational as I get whenever

you’re nearby,” she said.

“I have things I need to tell you;

important things. But somehow they don’t

seem important at all when you’re close

and so willing and eager. I can’t resist

you.”

She honestly didn’t see the problem.

She loved the way he made her feel.

“Maybe in a few decades we’ll get tired

of each other and we can have that

important talk,” she said.

“I think
now
is the best time.”

“Now?” she protested. “But I’m

exhausted.”

“Too exhausted to make love?”

She contemplated this for a moment

and found that she didn’t even have the

strength to touch him. “Yes,” she said

regretfully.

“Me, too,” he agreed. “So now would

be the best time for us to talk.”

“Let’s sleep. We can talk in the

morning,” she argued groggily.

“I’ll want you in the morning,” he said.

“I can already tell. If I wasn’t trembling

with fatigue, I’d want you now. The thing

is: I don’t think I can move.”

She giggled. “Same here.”

“The first thing I want to tell you is

that I really am a hundred and twelve

years old,” he said.

“Not really,” she murmured. “You

can’t be.”

He splayed his hand over the small of

her back, holding her close. “I’m

immortal. Do you understand what that

means?”

“You live forever.”

“I believe that I can, but no one has

ever actually tried it as far as I know.”

“Why not?” she murmured, still

drowsy, but interested.

“We age very slowly, but we do age.

About three to four times more slowly

than humans age. Carsha is sixteen. The

twins, Lark and Lord, are in their late

twenties. My mother is over two hundred

years old.”

“That seems so strange to me. Carsha

looks six. I’d have guessed the twins to be

around ten.”

After a few hundred years we become

old and tired and frail just like any other

species.”

“So you can die of old age?” she

questioned, confused.

“No, we have to poison ourselves

with silver in order to actually die. It is

our choice when we do it. No one forces

the issue or even suggests it.”

Her limp arm tightened around him

slightly. “It must be hard to willingly give

up life, knowing it’s possible to live

forever.”

“I suppose,” he agreed. “Grandma

poisoned herself days after my grandfather

was killed. I think she’d rather have been

dead than to live on without him.”

“Your grandfather was killed?”

“Fifteen years ago.”

“My family was also killed fifteen

years ago,” she murmured, the loss of

them a persistent ache in her heart. He

took her hand and said nothing. Seconds

later, her eyes flipped open with

realization. She sat up beside him,

instantly wide-awake. “Do you mean…do

you mean that it was your family who

massacred mine?”

“I can’t say for sure,” he said. “Part of

my family was there, Cort, my father and

grandfather. Others from my pack. Still

others from packs all over the continent.

They all came together and formed a pact.

Together, they decided to do something

about the Hunters.”

“You?” she forced herself to ask him.

“No,” he murmured, perhaps it was his

one saving grace. “I tried to talk them out

of it. They didn’t want me there. They

feared that I would cure them of their

madness and they would be unable to

carry out their plans. I was locked up for

the week that they were gone. Cort brought

our father and grandfather home to be

buried. I blamed myself for their deaths.

It’s my destiny to protect my people and I

failed.”

“I once followed my destiny blindly,”

she said. “You made me see I have to live

my life by my own heart, not by what is

expected of me.”

“You are stronger than I’ll ever be,

Maralee.”

“I’m not strong. I just didn’t know

what else to do. The slaughter of my

family is what motivated me to be a

Hunter. I thought avenging their deaths

would give meaning to what happened to

them. I thought that eventually, if I killed