Of Eternal Life (14 page)

She frowned. Her fingers froze in his hair.

Her eyes raked down his face again, down the length of his neck, over his collarbone, to rest on his chest.

Where’s the wound?

She stared for several long seconds at the smooth skin covering packed muscle. A small splatter of blood and the trickle that ran down his abdomen were still present, but the actual bullet hole was …
gone
.

She sucked in a breath and blinked, trying to clear her vision of what had to be an optical illusion.

She looked again, only to find that she was right. Abilene couldn’t find the wound because, well, there
wasn’t
a wound.

She snatched her hand from Eli’s hair and scrambled back a few feet until her back bumped against the trunk of a tree.

Oh, God. I’m going crazy!
It had finally happened. The stress of the past few days had taken its toll. It had been inevitable. But this — to have her mind play tricks on her in this way — it was cruel.

She wanted him to be alive, and her throttled brain was doing its best to give that wish to her.

Help him
.

She looked to the canopy of trees. Peered through the checkered shade of the forest. It took her a few moments to realize that no one was here; no one had spoken to her.

She squinched her eyes shut. The Voice that had first whispered,
The One
, to her. It was back.

Help him
, it repeated, more forcefully this time.

“He’s
dead
,” she retorted aloud, wincing at the sound of her voice and its note of desperation.

Yes
, it said simply.
Help him
.

With small, painful movements, Abilene crawled back to Eli’s side. Help him, the Voice had said. But how?

She brushed her fingers over his sternum, expecting to feel some indication that he had recently suffered a fatal wound. Her fingers found perfectly knit bone and skin. There was not even an indentation in the clean circle centering the blood splatter.

And Eli’s skin was warm.

Not quite normal temperature warm, but certainly warmer than it had been minutes ago.

Abilene’s now-shaking hands moved to Eli’s shoulder, and she struggled with his dead weight until she was able to get him to roll over. And then she gazed in amazement at his back.

The giant crater of carnage left behind from the bullet’s devastating exit was shrinking before her eyes. Eli’s skin, muscle, and bone were …
regenerating
. That was the only way she could think to describe it. Eli’s wound was healing, but it was doing so as such a quick rate that Abilene could measure its progress visually. What would have taken months in a regular medical case would be finished in mere minutes.

“Holy shit,” she breathed through parted lips. She looked at the profile of Eli’s face, recalling the unbelievable story he had told her last night. “You weren’t lying to me,” she whispered to him. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back. “You’re not crazy.”

She didn’t know whether she was referencing Eli or herself, but the relief that neither of them were candidates for intense psychological evaluation warmed her just like the rays of sunshine that shone down through the breaks in the leaves.

And then she realized what this meant.

Eli was coming back.

Her fingers clutched Eli’s shoulder. She remembered the first time she’d seen him. She remembered the “recovery” her mind hadn’t allowed her to accept — Eli’s gasp for breath, his startled eyes, his warm body pressing her into the floor.

She heard herself sob. He was dead now, but he wasn’t going to stay that way. She would get him back. She would have the chance to tell him that she was falling for him, too. Hard.

Her scientific brain rattled away as it processed new data. The appearance of the Voice; the undeniable connection she’d felt to him upon sight; the increase in feeling over the last few days. There could be no doubt: she’d had some kind of biological reaction to Eli.

The revelation brought more relief. She’d been worried about how quickly and easily she’d fallen for her kidnapper.

Stockholm syndrome was not sexy.

But this? This she could understand.

She pulled herself out of her thoughts. The Voice had been right; Eli was going to need her. He’d been so disoriented last time. Human touch had grounded him.

She wove her fingers back into Eli’s hair, and Abilene’s other hand moved to rest against Eli’s bicep, and she squeezed. The image of Eli curled on his side wavered through tears collected in her eyelashes.

The skin beneath her hands continued to gain warmth, and she kept a constant vigil on the progress his wound was making in the healing process.

When the skin closed together on Eli’s once-again flawless back, excitement bordering on giddiness punched through her gut.

Soon
, the Voice whispered.

Abilene shifted her weight. She realized with a start that she’d missed him.

She pulled on his shoulder and watched his body settle onto his back once more. His eyes were darting around behind his eyelids.

His mouth opened, and he swallowed a huge gulp of air. She moved her hand to his face, cradling his cheek.

“Shh,” she whispered. “You’re okay.” It was what she’d said to him the first time.

Eli’s eyes opened and focused on her in an instant. Confusion marred his face.

“Eli,” she said more firmly, using his name to remind him of who his was. “You’re alive and safe.”

His eyes snapped with comprehension. His features relaxed, and he reached for her, his arms bending at the elbows but not quite making it off of the forest floor.

Abilene met him more than halfway, nearly throwing herself on him. As his arms wrapped around her, she buried her face near his collarbone and allowed her shaking sobs to overtake her, relief leaving her body in waves of tears.

It took him a few tries, but Eli moved his hand to her hair, pulling her closer. “No, Abi,” he whispered, distressed by her crying.

She knew she needed to stop, that she was supposed to be helping
him
, not the other way around, but her emotions had run away with her. She clutched him, her fingers nearly claws.

Eli simply let her cry. He continued to hold her and whisper nonsense syllables to soothe her, both his arms and his voice gaining in strength.

When his hug was so tight she had trouble breathing, she was able to stem the flow of tears. She lay still until her hiccups subsided.

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you,” she whispered into the damp skin beneath her cheek.

He chuckled. “You’re apologizing to
me
?” he asked. “I was sure you were going to make me crawl all the way to Georgia on my knees before you forgave me.”

“Shut up,” she mumbled as she snuggled in even closer.

Eli sighed, the sound a mark of contentment. His hand moved beneath her chin and tilted her face up until they were nose-to-nose. “Care to make it up to me?” he asked.

“Well, don’t you wake up from
dying
in a good mood,” she groused, pushing him lightly in the shoulder. He grinned and rolled on top of her, settling between her thighs and pinning her with his weight.

“What can I say? I’m a freak,” and he actually
winked
at her.

It was what finally got her out of the dark place she’d been residing in since realizing Eli was dead. Abilene gave up a burble of laughter. “Well, thank God for that,” she said. “Your freakish nature is one of the many things I love — ” Abilene trailed off.

They both froze. Eli’s grin faded to a less-brilliant but softer version of happiness.

His hand moved to brush a curl behind her ear. “Truth is, darlin’,” he began, “I
don’t
usually wake up from dying in a good mood.” He traced the edge of her ear with one finger, but his penetrating gaze never left her eyes. “I take days to recover. The fear is …paralyzing.”

Now his hand moved to the back of her neck. He tilted her head back. “But you,” he hesitated for a moment to collect the right words. “Abi, you’re the light in a plane of darkness.” He leaned down and brushed his lips back and forth across hers. Once. Twice.

“I hear your voice and come alive.”

And then he was kissing her. These were not the desperate kisses they’d shared over the last three days. He was kissing her like a man who was savoring what he knew was his.

He worked his arms between her and the earth and cradled her like a treasure, all the while continuing the languid kisses that were bringing Abilene’s blood to a very quick, very demanding boil.

She raised her knees on each side of Eli’s hips, and he settled himself against the heat between her thighs as though he were coming home.

They were both breathing heavily now, their breaths echoing among the trees. Eli began to rock against her in a slow, capable rhythm, and she broke from the kiss to look into his face.

His eyes were bluer than she’d ever seen them. He wasn’t smiling anymore, but the expression he wore was so full of adoration and promise that her breathing ceased.

He stilled. The connection between them thrummed with passion.

“I love you.”

They’d whispered it simultaneously. Simply. As fact.

Eli’s smile returned. He leaned down to kiss her again, and just before his lips reached hers, Abilene whispered, “Show me.”

He stopped a hair’s breadth away.

“What?” he breathed.

“Show me you love me.”

It took a few beats for her words to register, but then Eli’s eyes dilated in an instant. His brows met in the middle, his lips parting to emit a nearly inaudible moan.

His lips came crashing down. Abilene parted hers, and she felt Eli’s arms tighten around her further.

Their eyes were still open and locked on each other. Abilene had never kissed with her eyes open before, and now she wondered why. It was the most amazing connection. She could measure the lust and desire growing in his hooded gaze with each stroke of her tongue. Each caress of her hand down his back. Each rock of his hips against her.

Her skin rippled with sensation where her chest was pressing against his. The fabric of their clothing began to prove a debilitating distraction to her. She needed to feel him.

Her hands moved to the hem of her t-shirt, and she yanked at it. He pulled away from the kiss to sit back on his heels, bringing her up with him until she was sitting. He replaced her hands with his own and brought her shirt up and over her head.

His eyes raked her breasts and belly as he spread her t-shirt on the ground behind her. Then he pushed on her shoulders until she lay back down, the shirt shielding her from the dirt beneath them.

He trailed his fingers from her waist to her bra. “Off,” he whispered in a rough voice, incapable of a more refined request.

Abilene arched her back from the ground and reached behind her back to unhook her bra. She lowered herself again, and then dragged the bra straps from her shoulders until she was able to lay bare to his gaze.

“Oh, Jesus,” he groaned. He cupped a breast with each hand, the calluses on his palms abrading her skin. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

Abilene’s panties were drenched for him. She needed to feel his naked chest on hers
now
. She reached up and pulled him down to her with surprising strength. His hands landed in the dirt beside her head; his fingers splayed. The moment their skin touched, they both moaned.

Every muscle in Eli’s upper body was taught with control. Abilene writhed beneath him, moving her hips until he was once again pressed against her core.

“Please,” she entreated, rocking her hips up and down. She was panting, and Eli was quick to follow her urging. He moved his entire body against her, rubbing against her nipples with his chest, against the apex of her thighs with his firm length.

He was breathing as frantically as she was. One of his large hands moved from its position beside her head to between their bodies as he worked at her button and fly.

“I need you so badly,” he gasped. “God, I’ve never needed anyone this badly.”

It was the same frantic idea she had roiling through her own passion-addled brain. She worked to help him get her pants off, shimmying her hips back and forth until Eli pulled them off. He maneuvered her body to place the pants beneath her in the same fashion as her shirt.

When he moved to spread atop her again, Abilene stopped him with a hand to his chest. “No,” she protested, raking her nails down his abdomen, marveling as his muscles rippled in her hand’s wake. “You, too.” Her hand reached the waistband of his pants, and she pulled at it.

Eli’s eyes came back to hers, and he gave her an evaluating look. She remembered how nervous she’d been in the hotel room last night when she’d taken his pants off for the first time. There was no nervousness now, just a frenzied need to have him naked. He seemed to see that in her eyes, for he removed his pants. Abilene didn’t even have the opportunity to touch him before he was back between her thighs, his full weight resting atop her.

“Am I too heavy?” he asked.

He was lusciously heavy. “Yes,” she moaned. He immediately moved back. She clutched at him. “No!” She didn’t want him to move! What was he thinking?

He smiled and returned to her. “I’m getting mixed signals, darlin’,” he chuckled. And then they were flush against each other, the only barrier between them Abilene’s panties. The humor evaporated from Eli’s face.

“Oh, Abi,” he sighed. He moved against her as he had earlier, his entire body brushing hers. But now, without the numbing agent of clothing, the sensations were sharp. Beyond pleasurable.

Eli squeezed his eyes shut and rocked again. A sound of near-pain fell from his parted lips.

Abilene had never felt anything like it. Even the pleasure she’d already shared with Eli paled in comparison to the feel of lying naked beneath him. The different textures of Eli’s body were a fascination to her own. The brush of Eli’s legs against the inside of her thighs, the insistent erection cradled in the softness between her legs, his firm abdomen plastered against her soft stomach — she was mindless from the experiences bombarding her.