Perfect Misfits (8 page)

He’d built into the side of the hill a large shelter. He’d even placed logs up the front similar to a log cabin. Complete with a door, their new dwelling awaited. Now he just needed to use a bit of magic to fix up the inside. Conjuring up a hearth, table, and chairs, as well as a separate room for Tempest to sleep in, he smiled to himself, pleased with his efforts.

Sky light from above grew dimmer by the minute. It would be dark soon. Unaware of where Rogue and Tempest were, he swung his gaze to the spot where he’d left them.

Her green eyes watched him intently while she rested against Rogue.

For some reason, he felt embarrassed…an emotion that didn’t come over him often. She took his breath away, sitting there like a wood nymph, staring at him. Perhaps glaring at him would be the better description.

In one fluid motion, she stood and marched toward him, definitely upset. Ryder crossed his large arms over his chest and fanned his wings out to the sides. That should scare her just a bit, he thought, but she surprised him with her bravery as she kept coming his way.

She stumbled in the soft moss, almost landing on his feet. Righting herself, she stood in front of him looking up into his face, crossed her arms in deliberate motions over her chest, and gave him a wicked grin before she kicked him in the shin.

He hadn’t been prepared for that. Even in gargoyle form, it smarted.

“I told you not to touch me…ever!” she yelled up at him.

Had he heard her correctly? “Are you daft? You most certainly must be,” he responded shaking his head.

“Are you calling me stupid?”

“Well, Ice Princess, if the shoe fits…” he answered with a cocky smile.

“Ohh!” Tempest shouted, and stepped forward to punch him in the leg. “You are an arrogant beast! Do you hear me?”

Realization struck him harder than a bolt of lightning.

Does she not realize what she’s just done?

He stood still staring down at her waiting for her to understand.

“See what I mean?” She continued on her rampage. “You’re just standing there with a stupid look on your face.”

Finally, he gathered his thoughts enough to speak. “It’s not okay for me to touch you, but it is okay for you to touch me?”

Now she moved her hands to her hips. “What are you talking…about…?”

He watched the reality of what she done wash over her face. She staggered a step back and fell on her butt, looking at the hand she’d hit him with.

Chapter Nine

Tempest’s heart raced, and her breathing matched the tempo.

What just happened?

She’d touched him seconds ago, and she was still awake…nothing happened.

She had been angry when she first awoke to find herself dressed. He’d seen her with no clothing on, and dressed her. Flashbacks came to her, but none of them overwhelmed her to the point where she’d pass out. She found herself staring at the garment he’d clothed her with.

Slowly, the visions came to her. He trained, fought for fun, and visited a place called the Transportbar. But what caught her off guard were his hidden emotions. He’d been aroused…by her.

Heat flooded to her cheeks, and her stomach did a flip as she looked back up at him. By now, he’d squatted down in front of her only a few feet away.

Gods, he’s sexy
.

Not that she really knew much about that. It didn’t matter what form he was in—he made her hot inside and out.

I actually touched him and stayed conscious.

Tempest pushed herself forward and onto all fours. Unable to reason, she stalked toward him on hands and knees. Soon, she found herself between his massive thighs while he squatted in front of her. Carefully, she stood to her full height. Her mouth was level with his ripped torso. Excitement danced through her body, setting her on fire. She wanted to touch him. She had to touch him.

She tilted her head up, searching for his face. He continued to stay perfectly still, just like the gargoyle he was. His eyes burned with desire and unspoken caution. Slowly, she unclenched her fists and licked her lips. The anticipation was crippling. Ever so gently, she reached out, letting one fingertip touch his hot, bare flesh.

She gasped, not out of pain, but out of amazement. She could feel his intense excitement. The thought empowered her. He wanted her, and for the first time in her life, she wanted to be wanted…whatever that meant.

A growl escaped Ryder’s mouth, and momentarily, she removed her finger from his chest. Certain she could hear his heart beating like her own, she placed two fingers on him, tracing a path down and over his nipple. His breathing stopped as she watched him close his eye. Unable to control herself, she let her other hand find its way to his body, and rested it lightly on his massive thigh. Both hands began to travel on their on accord.

Her lips found his chest, and the contact almost drove her insane with an unknown need. She had no idea what she felt, but it was irresistible. She was burning up from the inside out.

His growl deepened.

Tempest didn’t have to hope he was feeling like she was; she could feel it coursing through his body as it did hers. Tenderly, she kissed his fevered skin. Passion drove her further as her hands explored his body. Eagerly, she moved her hand along his massive thigh and closer to his crotch.

Abruptly, he stood, sending Tempest backward onto her bottom once again. The magic she’d been feeling vanished.

Humiliation swamped her. Everything she’d just done flooded her thoughts.

What am I thinking? I don’t even know what I’m doing.

For a moment, she actually wished a Vemler would kill her. She stared at the ground, unable to look up at the giant she’d just thrown herself on.

Rogue moved behind her, then to her side, where the large critter tried to crawl on her lap.

“No, Rogue!” she spoke harshly, and immediately regretted it.

The gush of air pushed her hair back, causing her to finally look up. Ryder had disappeared, shooting straight up into the darkening sky.

Her bottom lip quivered, and her vision blurred with tears that began to fall down her cheeks.

“Silly gargdog,” she said, wiping the moisture away and pulling him close. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. Rogue, why didn’t you stop me from making a fool of myself?”

“You like him, and Rogue believes he won’t hurt you,” he answered.

Anger flushed her embarrassment away. “No, I don’t. It’s just that he makes me feel so…oh, I don’t know…frustrated.”

“Tempest touched him without ending up unconscious.”

A large sigh escaped her lips. “This is all his fault,” she spat with indignation. “We don’t need him, Rogue.”

Rogue moved away from her and began pouncing in circles around her. “Tempest look where we are? I like him. There’s no Vemlers here, and he saved us. Fedor won’t find us.”

Colors of all sorts danced before her eyes, even in the near-dark. There were green trees, blue running water, and pink flowers. She’d barely remembered what all those things were. Closing her eyes, she realized she could smell the sweet scent of…well, she didn’t know, but it was heavenly.

“I know.” She hung her head, but then looked up and continued. “Do you know what’s best of all?

“Wood! Vemlers hate wood!” she squealed with excitement.

Like Rogue, she jumped to her feet and spun in circles with her arms wide open, temporarily forgetting the infuriating gargoyle. Rogue chased her in a circle and tackled her from behind. She grabbed at him and tickled him until he howled.

The descent of darkness brought them both back to being serious.

“Perhaps we should go into that lodge he made. I don’t know if it’s safe out here in the dark.” Tempest looked at Rogue, and they both moved toward the structure.

Now, how do we get in?

She reached out to touch the wood, and magically, a handle of sorts appeared. She grabbed it and pulled the door open, hesitating, unsure of what they would find.

Lights flooding the lodge scared her half to death, and she let the door slam shut. The lights went out. Gathering her courage, she tried again, opening the door wider. Over her shoulder, darkness surrounded them. She hated the dark, and jumped into the room without another hesitation. Rogue followed her just as fast.

Inside, the two them stood unmoving, scanning their immediate surroundings. The same fireballs danced in the hearth, and she could feel its warmth on her face. A table stood off to the side, complete with two chairs and a vase of fresh flowers. Toward the back of the lodge down a hall were three other doors. Soft light brightened all areas of the dwelling, making Tempest feel secure.

Tempest stepped away from Rogue and stared with her mouth wide open. She’d never been in anything so lovely. It was all too much to bear. Tears sprang to her eyes.

He made this for us.

Intrigued, she walked with Rogue in tow to the back rooms and pushed on the doors. The first room held a large but simple bed. Closing the door, she proceeded to the next room. Slowly she opened the door. Sparkles danced on the ceiling, and a large bed covered with furs and fluffy...

What are they called…? Pillows. Yes…

A moment of self-pity accompanied vague memories of her childhood.

Stubborn, she pushed the emotion away. For Many years, she’d thought of nothing else but her childhood, but there was no room for that in her life anymore. To survive, she needed to be tough…and unfeeling. Because she didn’t touch anyone, unfeeling shouldn’t be a problem.

She halted.

But I did touch somebody. Damn him!

Beside the big, beautiful bed stood a small table with yet another vase of roses. Unable to resist, she hurried to the elaborate wardrobe opposite the bed. The doors automatically opened to reveal garment after garment lining the piece of furniture. She reached out to touch the different types of fabric.

Then she pulled her hand back. False promises were all this offered. There was no way off Misfit Mountain, and it would only be a short period of time before Fedor found her. Emotion gripped her once more. Angry, she slammed the doors shut.

Tempest stared at the last room at the very end of the hall. Without hesitation, she marched angrily to the door and opened it... and stopped in her tracks.

Before her, a large pool of water shone with iridescent colors—every color she’d ever seen, and some she hadn’t. Steam rose from the heat pool of gently tumbling water.

She turned and walked away from the temptation before she could change her mind.

Rogue looked up at her with mixed emotions on his face.

“Don’t look at me like that. None of this is real. You know that,” she shrieked with a high-pitched voice.

He whined before responding. “Rogue’s never seen anything so nice. Shouldn’t we be grateful? Isn’t that what Tempest taught me?”

She let out a big sigh and rubbed her eyes before squatting in front of him. “Yes, Rogue, it is what I’ve taught you. You should always treat others how you would like to be treated. I guess I’m just tired.”

She stood back up and spun in a circle. “I’m just scared all this will make us soft and unprepared for how we normally live. We can’t afford the luxury of being spoiled.” Her voice was harsh.

The gargdog’s little wings fluttered. “I’m happy to be here for now. Tempest should be, too.”

She gave up, shaking her head in defeat. Where else could they go, anyway? She wouldn’t leave in the dark.

Rogue bounded through the room and stopped in front of the hearth, staring at the pot, which obviously contained food.

“Okay, you win.” She joined him. “I’ll get you some food.”

Tempest scooped a heaping spoon of food into a bowl for Rogue and one for herself. Sitting at the table, she stared out the window and attempted to use the spoon. A snore broke her concentration; Rogue had curled up in front of the fire and was sound asleep. Her thoughts returned to the pool of water behind the door at the end of the hall.

Wearily, she stood, and soon found herself standing before the beautiful water. She removed the clothing Ryder had provided for her and set them in a pile on the floor.

Smiling as she stuck her big toe cautiously into the water and found it warm. She stepped down into the pool. Water caressed every inch of her body. A ledge at the side of the pool held a bunch of bottles.

Could it be?

Tempest made her way toward them, picked up the bottle, and pulled the cork. A streak of pink mist mixed with silver sparkles raced from the top, swirling above her. Alarmed, she dropped the bottle into the water.

“Demon’s dung!” she cursed, splashing in the water to retrieve the bottle. Before she had a chance to retrieve the bobbing glass, she felt a warm liquid touch her head. She reached for her hair and stopped as her eyes caught the tail end of the pink mist disappearing into it. She froze out of fear, but when she heard and felt her hair being lathered by the bubbles, her shoulders relaxed. She was sure she’d never felt anything so heavenly. Time ceased to exist as her hair and scalp were scrubbed and scoured. When the massage stopped, Tempest opened her eyes to see the mystical pink sparkling stream make its way back into the floating bottle.

The sweet fragrance of new flowering blossoms was intoxicating. She spied a bar of soap on the ledge, and after a long leisurely wash, she plugged her nose and submerged under the water to wash the suds away.

Her eyelids had become heavy with sleep. As she made her way out of the water, something touched the back of her thighs, causing her spin around…but nothing was there except for her long, white-blonde hair, which now wrapped around the front of her naked body.

Her mouth hung open in amazement. She reached down and grabbed a handful of her long, silky locks. She’d had no idea her hair was really that long; it had been so matted before. To her immediate right was a folded towel sitting by her clothing.

Wow! What other powers does that Gargoyle have?

Before she reached for the towel, it danced up into the air and wrapped itself around her.