Portal to Passion (13 page)

“It is to be. Deveney must return to her home called Earth.” As he turned he muttered under his breath, “If I killed her, I could not live.”

Nona stood silent, watching him walk down the hall and enter an empty bedchamber. She’d heard the words he’d spoken under his breath. “Fool,” she muttered. “Overgrown, hardheaded fool. Without her, you shall die.”

Chapter Nine

Obinu welcomed the men into Ophidian Palace. One by one, he greeted the visitors for this week’s
cairnts
match. The attendees differed from week to week, as did the location of the game. Hopefully for him, the crowd would be great. His coffers were in need of being replenished. By the rules, four to six sat at a table and he’d made sure of everyone’s particular seating. One player at each table controlled the
cairnts
deck, shuffled and dealt. The leader of the hosting house assigned each table’s dealing player. Obinu grinned, knowing he’d selected skilled men for those positions. If all went well, the Serpentes clan’s impoverished condition would shortly be rectified.

When one of his port guards informed him of Sven Artur’s arrival, excitement slithered through his veins. Good. He rubbed his hands together. The prey had landed. Obinu’s tongue flicked in and out of his thin lips.

Since his return from Bjorn Palace, sleep eluded him. Undeniable suspicions grew and took root. He knew the bears hid something of grave importance. Being denied a meeting with Tor Artur had been an arrogant mistake. Obinu hissed in remembrance of the wasted trip across the Diabhal River to the Isle of Avalonia.

He hated crossing the river. Unlike his cousins of the Water Glider Serpentes, he preferred not to get wet. But he had to admit, the trip hadn’t been a total bust. He did learn the bears had a secret and planned to learn the truth of it this night.

Obinu lifted to his full height of six feet and eyed himself in the reflection gleaming off the spotless black marble wall. A thin smile graced his lips and his oval, glassy black eyes sparkled in the light. He admired his pale-green skin and considered it to be a lovely shade.

With a flick of his wrist, he smoothed his bald, scaly head with his palm. He’d chosen a mid-knee-length jet-black robe, which fit snug across his lean muscled chest and hung loose from the waist down. Every clan had their color. The Serpentes clan was black. Obinu owned every shade of black imaginable in a variety of different styled robes and he loved it. Black matched the core of his soul.

Turning on his heels, he marched into the main banquet hall to the left of the entranceway. He’d chosen this room for the
cairnts
game due to it being the largest of the three halls in Ophidian Palace. Ten round tables with chairs were situated from one end to the other and were spaced well apart for ease of movement by every species of clan member who chose to gamble this night. He may be the least favored of the clans, but he would not be outdone as a host.

Once word got around about tonight’s game, he bet his next hosting obtained a full house. And a hefty profit for his clan. Attendance at his events always gathered low numbers, which reinforced his belief that his clan was least liked. A quick flick of his tongue and he got the taste of female essence poised and ready for sex.

Glancing around, he did a quick head count of the females he’d hired as entertainment for the evening. Twelve. Good. These few women were not yet mated and chose to enjoy the attributes of promiscuous sex. That changed once they crossed paths with their destined mate. Once they were mated, no other male would or could have sex with them. They belonged to one male and he to her for eternity. An unstoppable sigh slithered through his tight lips. Mated. A feat even he hoped to accomplish, and soon, before he turned one hundred and snake became the keeper of his outer shell.

A shiver shot down his back. Obinu paused on the top stair leading into the room. Though he tried to redirect his thoughts, he couldn’t. He dreamed of a family of his own as he scanned the women, hoping maybe one of them was destined for him. Nothing fired to life in his veins and his chest tightened, knowing none were his to claim as mate.

No mate equaled no offspring. Without offspring, leadership of the clan fell into the hands of another male of the Serpentes clan. He shot a glance to the table where two of his cousins sat wooing the affections of one of the ladies. Bo and Heno Pythos maintained more brawn than brain. In his opinion, neither fit the bill for command, but they did come in handy as assassins when necessary. When Bo nodded in acknowledgement his way, Obinu smiled and did the same as he walked past.

Without many women around, men found other outlets for their pent-up frustrations. Gambling, arguments and fights tended to go hand in hand. The last game ended in a bloody brawl, which nearly brought down an entire wing of the Lioness clan’s home of Lennart Palace. After that, Obinu came up with a diversion that would lower the tension level of the players. And hopefully it encouraged more gambling and more income for his clan through their losses.

Women. The perfect idea. The women occupied the players’ attention while his dealers handled the cards and leaned the games in favor of the house. In his mind, this was a winning situation all the way around. The men got laid and his clan got their money. He’d planned it so a woman entertained every table and two sat at the master of ceremonies table…his.

The women here tonight came from Oksana Leopardi’s home for the unmated female. They were known for their skills and their voracious sexual appetites. Out of the corner of his eye, Obinu spotted Greyson of the Wolf clan escorting a redhead into one of the twelve privacy booths he’d had set up for his guests. He grinned. The night was off to a promising start.

The pants and moans he heard as he walked past made his ball sac tighten. He paused, trying to remember the last time he’d participated in a night of pure pleasure. Looking up, he saw the two women he’d handpicked to attend the host’s table. They stood beside the privacy booth next to his table. Both smiled directly at him and motioned for him to join them. Not paying attention as he walked, he tripped over a pair of feet. The woman’s body was hidden by the tablecloth, but the closed-eyes, open-mouthed expression on the man’s face explained it all.

Obinu quickened his pace. It’d been too long since he’d enjoyed the comfort of a female. There was time before the games began and Sven’s arrival from the port to enjoy the attributes of two fine, willing women. The moment he reached them, they stepped inside the privacy booth. He took their hands and guided them to the silken, plush mat and stacks of pillows on the floor.

“It’s been awhile for me, ladies.” He smiled, then flicked his tongue rapidly in and out.

“Ahhh,” the brunette proclaimed as she untied her sarong and let it fall to her waist, exposing a perfect set of large, supple breasts. “I like a man with a good tongue who knows how to use it.”

Obinu relaxed, letting the brunette slide up his body, rubbing her breasts along every inch of him. He lost sight of the blonde as the brunette straddled his face. But he didn’t have to see her to know she knew how to utilize her mouth. A hot tongue licked from his anus to the tip of his cock, then tormented the slender slit before swallowing him whole.

Yes, he decided as he flicked his long tongue deep into the sheath of the wet, wild woman on his face. He needed this if he were to keep his mind clear and focused on obtaining information from Sven Artur.

* * * * *

Daylight streamed through the window, heating Deveney’s face. She stretched, yawned and rolled onto her back. There wasn’t one inch of her that did not hurt. Even her brain ached. And it took a great effort to open her eyes. But she managed to pry her eyelids apart. The bright sunlight made her squint and jerk the covers over her head.

Was she sick? The intense nausea, total body pain and migraine she’d suffered through the night were worse than any flu or illness she’d ever experienced. Bed spins were nothing to the whirl of violent symptoms that afflicted her for hours in the dark. It might not have been so bad if the sickness had been one steady, icky sensation at a time. But no, this event mixed every disgusting, pain-riddled ailment possible into a flash flood of pure soul-searing magical mischief that controlled every ounce of her from the root of the hairs on her head to the tips of her toenails.

Magical mischief! That was it.
Deveney almost cried at the severe shards of heat that pierced her brain. She grabbed her head without lowering the blankets from her face.
Next time, don’t think so loudly
, she reprimanded herself.

Lying still, she did a mental check of her body. No broken bones. That was a good thing, considering she’d fallen through a door. But what had happened to the door? Thinking back, it came to her on a hot rod of information straight to the forefront of her brain. It vanished.

Deveney shot upright as the image relived in her thoughts. The spin inside her head shifted to hurricane force, making her realize sudden movement increased the intensity. Pressing both palms against her temples, she tried in vain to stop the swirling motion.

Determined not to be defeated, she held her head while inching her way out from under the covers and to the bed’s edge. She had to get up. She needed to know what happened. She needed the one person she could ask about this magical disturbance. And that was exactly what she felt certain she suffered from, a severe episode of uncontrolled magic. This
magical mischief
, as Maven had labeled it. Deveney thought she had it under control.

What made it return? Why had she lost control?

Because of Tor.

She stopped dead as she clung to the bedpost at the foot of the bed. He had been in danger. She merely reacted to help him. Was that it? Had she simply tried to help? As she took a step down, stars shot behind her closed lids. One, then two, then three to the floor, she counted in silence and even those thoughts echoed and increased the pain.

She took a deep breath. At least being upright, the spin cycle of her brain slowed. Sharp sensations as if someone poked her with a hot fork penetrated her eyes and shot to the back of her brain when she coerced her lids to open. She accomplished pulling them apart into slender slits, just enough to see. Step by slow step, she reached the mirror.

When she wobbled on her feet, she almost grabbed the mirror for support but yanked her hand back at the last second before making contact. Tor’s words reiterated loud and strong in her memory.

Nadda un touke.
Don’t touch. If she could smile, she would at the phantom sound of his voice inside her head. Thinking of him gave her strength enough to stand upright, gain her balance without any form of support and pry her eyes open to normal size.

“Maven, I need you,” she whispered and even that low tone reverberated in her skull, making her cringe and squint against the pain. This sickness made a hangover seem easy.

“Deveney, I am here.” Maven’s calm voice soothed her frazzled nerves.

“I’m here too, honey. I didn’t believe for one second you’d leave on some business trip without telling me first. Where are you? Are you okay?” Tiara’s overly loud voice as she rapid-fired questions in her direction bounced around inside her head. “Oh man, Deveney, you look rough. You sick? Do you need me to come over there and help you?”

“I feel worse than rough,” she eked out the reply and forced her eyes to focus. Tiara stood beside Maven in front of the mirror in the closet of the store.

“Tiara, you need to lower your voice. It’s obvious to me Deveney suffered a magical mischief episode. Tell me, child. What happened?”

Somehow, Maven’s voice eased the ache in her head. Deveney inhaled slow and deep, gathered her thoughts and decided to tell Maven everything from the beginning. And it didn’t matter to her if Tor caught her talking to Maven or not. She needed this chat right now.

Hell, she’d needed him beside her last night. That she knew in her gut as truth. If he’d lain beside her, somehow she sensed she wouldn’t be this sick. He didn’t and when she felt better, she intended to track him down and find out why.

But for now, she needed this…this girl talk with her best friend and her magical mentor.

“Tiara, I miss you and wish you could be here with me.”

“I miss you too. If I could be with you, I would.”

Deveney noted Maven turned an arched-eyebrow look Tiara’s way before she inquired in a curious tone, “You would? You’d give up your life here to be there with Deveney?”

“In a heartbeat and never look back,” Tiara replied with a hand on her hip and a matter-of-fact look on her face. “We may not be blood related, but she’s still my sister and I love her.”

“You’d go without knowing exactly where she is located?”

“Doesn’t matter. I’d be with Deveney and it couldn’t be any worse than some of the homes social services placed us in when we were younger.” Tiara strained to get a better look at the room behind Deveney. “From where I stand, that room alone is bigger than our whole apartment.”

“Hmmm, that’s an issue we’ll have to explore at a later time. For now,” Maven said, turning her attention back to Deveney, “Deveney needs our support and help.”

“Maven, I’m not sure how or why it happened, but a door disappeared when I touched it.” Deveney decided to state the facts and hoped they could work through it together.

“What happened prior to your making the door disappear?” Maven inquired.

Tiara stood next to her, still trying to get a better peek at the room.

“Hey, Deveney, you in that room alone or is there someone with you who I can’t see?” Tiara butted in with another question.

Maven looked perturbed and shushed Tiara, which made Deveney smile even though her face muscles trembled from the effort. She knew from years of experience if she wanted Tiara’s cooperation, it was easier to answer her rather than put her off.