Obsessed (2 page)

Raising her chin, she blocked the horrible image of the Sorcerer from her mind and once again started toward the tavern. But another, far more powerful vision replaced thoughts of the Sorcerer, and she stopped in mid-stride.

The stranger.

No matter the future Liana would face if she did not escape soon, she couldn’t rid her thoughts of the devastating man from the tavern. The way that smoky black gaze had studied her every movement last eve. Raw masculinity that called to her woman’s core. The hard line of his jaw every time a man approached her to have his fortune told.

As though the stranger was jealous.

Liana’s nipples puckered against the light material of her gown at the mere thought of the man desiring her body. After feeling such incredible pleasure at her own hands, she could imagine the dark stranger taking her to far greater heights. Of its own mind, her hair moved within her cloak, sliding across her breasts, enhancing the need that grew tighter and tighter within her belly.

Gods!
Liana stamped her foot and clenched her fists, and her tresses went still. As she tucked her hair behind her pointed ear, she tried to calm her desires. She had no time for the newly awakened fantasies.

Tonight she must make her escape. But first she had to convince—

“You had best hurry along now, wench.”

Liana startled at the sound of Ranelle’s voice from behind her. Hand to her pounding heart, Liana whirled to confront her friend. “You nearly caused my lifeforce to depart!”

Ranelle tossed her long mahogany hair over her shoulder as she gave an impish grin, her teeth flashing in the moonlight. “That should teach you to fantasize in the middle of the village about handsome strangers.”

Heat flushed through Liana, and she was certain she was as red as a jensai bloom. “I was doing no such—”

“Save untruths for someone who might believe them.” Ranelle brushed away Liana’s protest with a wave of her hand, the motion causing her cloak to gape open, revealing sparkling attire, generous curves and dark nipples jutting under the sheer material of her gown.

“What are you talking about?” Liana muttered, but at the same time she wondered if her friend had ever touched her own nipples, or caressed herself between her thighs as Liana had done.

“Last night Tierra and I noticed how you stumbled through your dealings with the patrons.” Ranelle laughed and in sisterly fashion adjusted Liana’s hood so that it once again covered her pale tresses. “And how you could not keep your eyes off the big brute in the corner who watched you the entire eve.”

“You have a fine imagination.” Cheeks burning ever hotter, Liana ducked her head and started toward the tavern again. “Come, lest Nira send her guard after us.”

“Ah, but you forget.” Ranelle easily kept up, her long legs outpacing Liana’s shorter ones. “I, too, am gifted with sight.”

Liana stopped, forcing Ranelle to back up a few paces. Her breath caught as she whispered, “What did you see?”

Ranelle cast her gaze over her shoulder as if looking for someone in the darkness. When she turned back to Liana, she offered a half-smile. “Only that this man is a part of your future.”

Swallowing past the lump in her throat, Liana fisted her hands in the folds of her cloak, drawing it tighter yet. “In what way?”

“I do not know.” Ranelle shrugged but looked uneasy as she drew the opening of her own cloak closed, covering her near-naked breasts. “Even though the brute did naught but scowl whenever his glance fell upon me, my senses tell me he is one you can trust.”

“Trust.” The word slipped from Liana’s lips, a mocking sound even to her own ears. “As if I can trust any soul on the whole of this world.”

At the hurt expression on Ranelle’s lovely face, Liana hurried to add, “Except you and Tierra, of course. Only the two of you.”

Ranelle winked, her eyes shimmering silver in the moonlight. “Halia. As if I would question your trust in me. As you would never question my trust in you or Tierra.”

“You are both my heart-sisters, yes.” Liana hugged Ranelle tight. As always, her friend smelled of exotic spices and vanilla.

A wolf’s howl echoed through the night, and Liana shivered.
Come with me,
she said in Ranelle’s mind.
Tonight.

“It is not safe!” Ranelle’s voice rose a fraction above a whisper and her glance darted around the darkened village, as though concerned they were being followed. She leaned forward to murmur in Liana’s ear, “We agreed to escape with Tierra during moonchange. And besides, our heart-sister is still ill. She would not be able to accompany us.”

Liana sighed and urged her friend toward their destination, wishing Ranelle could speak in thought to ensure they wouldn’t be overheard. They were within feet of the weathered building where they were both forced to work each night. Crude laughter and voices came from inside the establishment. Stinking odors of sour ale and vomit outside the tavern’s door churned her stomach.

I—we must all go now,
she told Ranelle.

“A vision?”

Liana glanced up to see Ranelle’s frown, knowing her friend would expect an explanation. An explanation Liana was too embarrassed to give without working up her courage. How could she tell her friend how she had touched herself intimately—and that a Nordain had watched her?

No, not a vision…more a feeling,
Liana finally replied.

“A feeling?” Ranelle’s jaw dropped, a look of protest on her face.

Liana’s tresses vibrated and ice prickled her skin. She held up her hand to stop the rant she knew was forthcoming from her friend.

Something is watching us, Halia.
Pressure pounded Liana’s temples as she forced the thought to Ranelle.
We best get inside. Now!

* * * * *

Aric ruffled his feathers and turned his gaze from the Tanzinite maid and the gishla. His grasp tightened on his perch upon the tavern’s roof as his eyes hunted the night sky for irani.

Only black sky and pale stars.

But his senses told him the Sorcerer’s winged beasts were close. Much too close.

It isn’t time.

Zanden must have learned of the plans to steal the Tanzinite maid from beneath the Sorcerer’s very nose. Which would certainly mean another traitor existed in the midst of Aric’s court.

Or the bastard simply knows too well how I think.

Aric spread his massive wings and soared from the tavern’s roof, his gaze searching the village to ensure his change would not be witnessed. Even as his claws touched the ground, he transformed into his Nordain human form. His feathers melded into the tunic, breeches and boots he needed to clothe himself. The sheathed dagger that had been strapped to his leg now rested at his hip, and the gem at its hilt glowed like a single red eye.

Lord Ir. If Jalen, Aric’s Elvin brother-at-arms, did not arrive soon, all might be for naught. What could be keeping him?

As Aric put his hand to the tavern door, he paused to whistle for Baethel. The stallion’s answering whinny came from behind the building, along with the wolf Toen’s soft growl. Aric whistled again, telling his companions of the change in plans. They would not wait until the tavern closed this eve.

He would take her now.

Aric’s cock hardened at the double meaning of his thought, and he gritted his teeth. He had no business thinking such things. His duty was to his people and to keep the prophecy from fulfillment.

He shoved the tavern door open, smoke from the hearth, sour ale, and filth clouding his senses. Pausing a moment, he sought to catalogue each and every patron within the establishment before he moved forward and pushed his way through the crowd.

The tavern was packed with men stuffing their guts with ale and meat, and feasting their eyes upon the tavern wenches, Liana and the gishla. Aric narrowed his gaze as he saw the brunette gishla nearly naked and dancing on a platform at the center of the room. Her large breasts swayed as she moved. Her dark nipples and the mound between her thighs were easily seen through the transparent material of her scrap of a dress.

She was beautiful, yes, but he had the strong desire to yank the wench from the platform, wrap her in a dozen blankets and send her far from this hideous place. For some odd reason her near nakedness caused a knot to form in his gut.

His scowl moved from the gishla to the crowd of leering men. He would like to rip the eyes from every man staring at the maid. Cheers rose around Aric as the gishla performed her erotic dance, and it was all he could do to control himself.

What ailed him so?

He forced his attention from the gishla to the corner of the tavern, where Liana stood as she told fortunes to one bastard after another. She had her palm to a man’s sweaty forehead, her eyes closed, her lips moving. Aric’s keen hearing caught the words she spoke, but they were not important—a simple fortune for the simple man before her.

Aric shoved his way through the crowd, attempting to ignore a yellow-haired wench who rubbed her full breasts against him, her hardened nipples sliding across his bicep as he moved past.

“Suck yer cock fer one ansi, love,” the wench crooned. “Spread me legs and fuck ye fer two.” She latched onto his arm and he caught the sour smell of ale on her breath as she pressed close. “Aye, fer you, I would fuck all night.”

With little difficulty he shrugged off the woman, leaving her to ply her wares with some other fool.

When Aric was mere feet from the Tanzinite maid, he paused to watch. Liana was petite, dwarfed by those who surrounded her, yet she stood straight, her shoulders back, as though she feared no man. She was obviously deep in trance, oblivious to the bastards who ogled her body as she told the man his fortune.

Aric’s jaw tightened and he clenched his fists as fury built within him, like lava rising within Mount Taka. He would like naught more than to lay waste every bastard leering at Liana.

A sheer garment draped her small form, similar to what the gishla wore. Liana may as well have been completely naked for all the good it did. The only thing protecting her from being ravaged by the heathens around her was the Sorcerer’s claim on her. Threat enough that no man would dare lay a finger on the Tanzinite maid.

As Aric studied Liana, the noisy din of the tavern faded until all he could hear was her musical voice telling the man his fortune. He caught her scent that was somehow untainted by the smoke and ale stench of the tavern. She was so lovely, even more so than even the sensual Elvin women, for whom so many ballads of love were written.

For days he had watched Liana, preparing for the time he would take her. He had enjoyed watching her—the way she moved, her quick smile for her friends, and her kindness to those around her. Liana was beauty and grace, like a rose among thorns.

He swallowed, hard, as the image of Liana, naked in her bedchamber, filled his mind. Pebble-hard nipples, pert breasts, and hair the color of moonbeams caressing her rounded buttocks. Her fingers sliding into her folds, the smell of her sex. The look of ecstasy upon her face, and her sweet cry as she climaxed.

His rigid cock ached with the need to bury himself inside her core. He visualized her smiling at him, her sea green eyes beckoning. Her soft voice telling him to come to her as she lay on her back, her thighs spread, and her nipples swollen from his mouth and hands. She would beg him to thrust his cock inside her. He would take her again and again—

Liana’s eyes snapped open and she snatched her hand from the man’s forehead. She stumbled back against the tavern wall as her attention cut from the man to Aric. Her lips parted as her gaze locked with his.

Blood rushed in his ears as the moment stretched between them. Her heart pounded loud enough for his sensitive hearing to discern, its rhythm matching his own. She pressed her hand between her breasts, as if to slow her ragged breathing, and her nipples peaked beneath her sheer clothing.

And then the knowledge came to Aric as clear as if Liana had spoken.

She wanted him as much as he wanted her.

Lord Ir.

Aric opened and closed his fists and hardened his jaw.

No. He could not take the chance of being near Liana. He desired her too much, and he knew with certainty that she would welcome him into her body.

Jalen would have to take responsibility for the Tanzinite maid.

Aric pivoted. It took everything he had to walk away from Liana.

Liana’s face burned as she watched the stranger force his way back through the crowded tavern and toward the door. The man was so tall she could see his raven head above all others.

Even as he strode away, her heart continued to pound against her palm. She pressed her hand tighter to her chest, struggling to control her churning emotions. And she tried in vain to suppress the images that had burst into her mind, interrupting her trance.

Images of the stranger naked and between her thighs, their sweat-slick skin sliding together. Him, thrusting his cock into her and taking her repeatedly as she screamed in ecstasy and begged for more. She had felt his palms clenching her hips, his mouth on her nipples, his hot muscled body pressed against hers.

A hand clasped Liana’s wrist, jerking her attention back to the smoky tavern. She shivered and blinked, and looked up into Nira’s frigid blue eyes.

The barkeeper scowled. “Ye best be gettin’ back ta work, wench.”

Liana glanced to the rough hand gripping her wrist and narrowed her eyes as her gaze returned to the foul woman. “Release me,” Liana commanded.

Nira’s jaw dropped. “Dare ye—”

A trance slammed into Liana hard and fast. Reflexively, her free hand shot up and she pressed her palm to Nira’s sweaty forehead.

Everything around Liana vanished as her lids fluttered shut.

No sight. No sound.

And then a vision burst into her mind.

They are coming.

The Sorcerer’s winged beasts and his Nordain minions.

The tavern—on fire. Men shouting. Women screaming.

I—I cannot breathe. Smoke fills my lungs. Fire licks at my clothing.