Ellora's Cavemen: Tales from the Temple II (25 page)

And she could see inside of him. Images of war and battle and tragedy, graphic pictures of human suffering, of violence and famine and death—they flowed like raging whitewater from his mind to hers. Her empathic traits—dull and weak until now—

flared as hot and bright as their kiss, and she could
see
into him. See his every secret, every thought, every memory.

The Daemons were there, as were the Shikars. The memory of the battle he’d witnessed haunted him, but not as she’d imagined it might. He was not so devastated by the possibility that such things existed, but that he had somehow misinterpreted them. That he didn’t understand them and that these beings had been in his world all along without his knowledge aggravated and angered him.

And the memory of war was there also, human war. Agate had only seen pictures of such violence before—but now she was reliving the horror through his memories. He had been in the middle of the gunfire and the explosions, taking his pictures, documenting the events with a cool and detached ruthlessness. More than anything, he believed in recording the events that shaped his world, in documenting reality with as much detail as possible.

He was no different than she in this respect. The both studied the world around them, at times separate and alienated from all they must witness and record, even as they were caught up in the middle of it.

He’d been hit by bullets, cut with blades, burned and bruised and torn. He’d known such pain, physical and mental, but through it all he’d taken his pictures. Alek had been born in the midst of war, in the Ukraine, and his family’s flight to America had done nothing to help him forget it. He understood war, even as he hated it. He could not sit back and do nothing as parts of the world lived in chaos.

Alek and his camera held witness as the world rumbled its discontent.

155

Sherri L. King

Agate saw everything, shared in his pains and his triumphs, lost in the wonder of his kiss.

His mouth ate at hers. His tongue uncovered and conquered every secret, tasting her, discovering her. The strength of his arms encircled and imprisoned her. A strong hand anchored atop the rising curve of her buttocks. The other swept up her back and tangled into the hair at her nape. He held her so tight she could have wept, her heart full to bursting with need and love and empathic understanding.

She could not take his memory from him. Not now. Not after touching his mind like this. Not after knowing his heart so well and so dear.

Alek sucked her lower lip, using his teeth to nibble erotically. His hand came around to cup her breast, nearly burning her through her clothing. Agate moaned.

Then, with a gasp, she pulled away, nearly stumbling on her shaking legs. Too much longer in his arms and she would have willingly made love to him there on the street, with the whole world passing by unnoticed. She wanted him that much.

Their eyes met. And Agate saw that he had felt much the same as she.

“We’ll finish this,” he said roughly, gaze burning into hers.

Weakly, she nodded. “Yes,” she breathed unsteadily.

His jaw clenched. Agate heard his teeth grit with his resolve. He took her hand this time, holding her fast and strong, as if he’d drag her along should she prove unwilling.

She wasn’t—unwilling, that is. Not at all.

With breathless anticipation, she walked alongside him, nearly skipping to keep up with his long strides. She smiled to herself. Cady was going to be so pissed.

It seemed she would be late getting back after all.

156

Voyeurs: Overexposed

A small shop caught his attention, dragging him out of his erotic thoughts—each involving his escort’s naked body, long legs, and sugar-sweet lips. Her mouth fascinated him beyond all reason.

He wanted to fuck that mouth.

Wanted her on her knees in front of him, eager and willing, as she wet her lips with that wicked tongue of hers and opened for him.

Get it together, man
. If he weren’t careful, he’d lose all control, take her to a darkened side street and be done with any romance or softness. She made him that crazy.

But first he needed to buy a box of condoms. He only had one or two in his overnight bag—they’d been there for weeks now, he’d just been too busy and preoccupied to use them—and he knew he’d need more than that tonight. Making a detour in this shop would only cost a few precious moments.

He ignored the devilish urge to just forget about the extra protection, that time was too precious, he shouldn’t squander it, even the few seconds it would take to make a quick purchase. But he’d never neglected to use a condom before and he wasn’t about to make an exception now, no matter how hot he was to have the mercurial minx at his side.

Agate nearly tripped as he made the swift detour into the storefront door. He was loath to release her hand—he wasn’t sure if he feared she might bolt or if he just liked the feel of their tangled fingers—but he did, allowing her to enter the door before him, an ingrained gentlemanly gesture he hadn’t even given second thought to.

It amused him, as well as puzzled him, when Agate bounced excitedly over to a display of chocolate bars and candies. She seemed so childlike in her enthusiasm, but there were moments when he saw a seriously adult mentality behind her eyes. She was more than she seemed on the surface, he was certain of that.

There had been a moment, when he’d kissed her, when he’d almost felt as if he knew her far more intimately than he should have. As if they’d already shared many secrets about their lives, their pasts, their hopes and dreams with each other. But it was fleeting, and just as he noticed the incredible feeling of discovery—of the elemental and soulful
knowledge
of her—she had pulled away from him.

It was a good thing she’d done that, too. Alek wasn’t sure, even now, that he would have had the strength to pull away himself. The tight need in him was stronger than any he’d ever experienced. He’d held onto his self-control by a thread, and it was a wonder he hadn’t taken her there on the street.

157

Sherri L. King

“I love chocolate,” she exclaimed with a bright smile, grabbing a generous handful of assorted sweets. She plunked them down on the counter before the bemused-looking cashier, and added several more to it. “These too,” she added one of each of the local newspapers and two glossy magazines.

Alek dragged his gaze away—she fascinated him more than anybody he’d ever met—and made his way down the aisle he felt sure would lead him to what he was looking for. He grabbed a small box of three condoms—a French brand he wasn’t familiar with, but it was latex and that was what he wanted—then decided to add two more boxes. Just in case.

He didn’t pay much attention to the bell ringing over the door as it opened to admit another person into the small shop. Didn’t notice the nervous, agitated young man until it was too late.

“Get over here, put your hands up,” the man commanded in French, pulling a handgun from the pocket of his jack and pointing it first at the shopkeeper, then at Agate, and finally leveling it upon Alek. “Get over here,” he barked again.

Alek raised the hand that wasn’t holding his portfolio case and slowly moved to the front of the aisle where the man stood with his weapon. He wasn’t afraid, merely pissed off at the inconvenience, as he patiently waited for the opportunity to diffuse the situation.

The man turned to the cashier and demanded that she hand over the money in the till. Quickly, as if he knew Alek was the more dangerous of the store’s inhabitants, the thief brought his attention back around. His eyes, darting around in such a way that Alek suspected he was pepped up on more than just adrenaline, settled on the portfolio and lingered.

“Hand it over, mister.”

Alek shook his head, smiling a little. “No.” He really didn’t want to hurt this petty criminal if he didn’t have to. He didn’t want to scare Agate with any show of violence.

But he wasn’t going to give up his portfolio bag—it held several rolls of film he’d yet to develop, not to mention the negatives that seemed so important to his soon-to-be lover.

Besides, it was his. He held on to what belonged to him.

The man, growing ever more agitated and impatient, waved the gun threateningly.

“I’ll shoot you dead. Hand it over, your wallet and your watch too.”

His watch wasn’t worth more than a few bucks, and the crystal face was cracked from a brush with a car bomb explosion he’d gotten to close too only a few days ago.

Placing his portfolio at his feet, he removed his watch and held it aloft for the thief to take.

After he’d snatched it away, the man growled over at Agate—who strangely enough looked calm and unconcerned. “Come on over here, pretty girl, and give me your purse.” He turned back to Alek. “And I’ll have that bag,” he insisted.

“No you won’t,” Alek said dispassionately, watching Agate come forward out of the corner of his eye. She seemed so unconcerned, so calm and casual…it didn’t agree 158

Voyeurs: Overexposed

with the excitable, overly animated persona she’d shown until this point. He would wonder at that later, after he’d found a way to keep possession of his portfolio without resorting to killing the damned punk in front of him.

The man was angry now and swung back his arm to hit Alek across the face.

Three things happened all at once.

The cashier ducked behind the counter with a groan. Alek gathered himself, ready to make his move. And Agate seemed to disappear into thin air.

The thief’s arm swung down and Alek easily dogged the blow. Grabbing his assailant’s arm he wrenched it brutally, threw his fist into the man’s throat, and swept his foot against the man’s ankles, tripping him to the ground. Agate instantly appeared at his side and removed the gun from the thief’s hand, easily, even as he struggled to bring it around to fire it at one of them.

“You shouldn’t do things like this,” she murmured, as if she were admonishing a recalcitrant child instead of a violent criminal. “Someone could get hurt.”

It was so fast, taking no more than a couple of seconds, and then it was over. Alek was just grateful that no one had been hurt.

The man was on the ground now, clutching at his throat and choking, and Alek put a foot on his chest to keep him there—just in case he recovered and tried something else.

He frowned at Agate. She had put the gun on the counter, where the cashier was only just rising again, and gone straight back to studying the magazine rack. As if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.

Who the hell was this woman? And, if his eyes hadn’t deceived him in what he’d just witnessed, how the hell had she managed the disappearing trick?

Suspicions gathered in his mind and he determined to get her back to his hotel room as soon as possible for more reasons than the obvious one of making love to her until she screamed her head off. Something was going on with her, something big, and he did
not
like being kept in the dark about it.

As the cashier made to call the authorities, Alek grabbed his portfolio case again and paid for his condoms, as well as Agate’s mountain of sweets and reading material.

He threw everything into the case, grabbed her hand in his once more and marched with her out into the street. And he didn’t slow their pace until they’d safely reached his hotel.

* * * * *

Elevators were every bit as exciting as she’d dreamed they might be.

159

Sherri L. King

Agate was having a hell of a time resisting the urge to press every single button on the control console of the elevator. She knew Alek already had his suspicions about her—he’d seen her Travel, even if he didn’t understand what it meant.

There’d been no help for it. She’d had to use her Traveling ability to reach the would-be thief’s side quickly enough to disarm him. Or so she’d thought at the time.

How could she have foreseen that Alek was a Warrior and that he would defuse the situation before she could get close enough to even try?

Agate found herself even more attracted to him after such a heroic display of strength and courage. She wanted him. Perhaps more than was wise, given their circumstances, but she couldn’t have fought the attraction even if she’d a mind to.

Which she didn’t.

He hadn’t spoken to her for the past few blocks, nor when they’d entered the hotel.

It was a little disconcerting, his somber silence, but she persevered. How could she not, while in the wondrous glass elevator as it rose through the floors of the towering building?

Her fingers fairly itched with the need to press the sleek, shiny buttons.

The doors opened to their floor. Alek ushered her forth ahead of him, but she managed to reach out at the last second and press one of the buttons. She almost giggled; it glowed in response to her touch. The doors closed behind them and she let Alek take her elbow and guide her to the door of his room.

It was dim in the room when she entered. When Alek closed the door, sealing them off alone from any intruders, she couldn’t resist looking at him in the shadows. All Shikars were sensitive to sunlight; evolution had forced them to live in darkness but in losing the light the Shikars had gained much to make up for it. They possessed exceptional night vision, for one thing. It was because of this gift that she could see him so well in the dark, as clearly as she could when they were outside under the warm glow of the street lamps.

But now the teasing hollows of his face were traced by the darkness, giving him an even more dangerous appearance. His hair looked darker and softer, his face looked rugged and strong.

Agate shuddered delicately.

Alek’s strong, square jaw clenched. His gaze swept over her hungrily. And then he reached for her.

“Who are you?” he rasped before slamming his lips onto hers.

The kiss was wet and hot and hard. Agate clutched at him, swept up in the vortex of passion. She wanted to crawl up his body, wanted to wrap herself around him and swallow him inside.