Read Shades of the Wind Online
Authors: Charlotte Boyett-Compo
fingers against his lips.
“There is nothing that needs doing for a while yet, milord.” She urged him toward
the bed. “Lie down and I’ll make you a cup of mulled cider.”
He slipped his arms around her. “I’d rather have a taste of my lovely wife,” he
muttered as he planted a kiss at the curve of her neck and shoulder.
“Sit down,” she ordered. “Let me take off your boots and then we’ll talk about
tasting.” She pulled the covers back so he could lie down.
Khenty smiled. He enjoyed the way she gently bossed him about for he knew she
had only his best interests at heart. He did as she asked and stroked her hair as she
knelt down to remove his boots. “You are spoiling me,” he said.
“It’s time someone did,” she replied.
With his boots and socks removed, she helped him to stretch out on the bed,
plumping the pillow beneath his head. “I will check on the others,” she assured him.
She turned to go but he caught her hand to prevent her.
“Uh-huh,” he said with a shake of his head. “You promised me a taste.”
Catherine’s left eyebrow crooked up. “Nay, milord,” she countered. “I said we
would talk about the tasting.”
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“Then come here, wench, and—”
She slipped her hand from his and put her fingers to the fly of his trousers. Looking
into his eyes, she opened the button at his waist and slid down his zipper.
“You brazen hussy,” he teased, and despite the brutal ache in his left arm, folded
his arms beneath his head. He shifted his legs slightly apart as she reached in to pull his
cock out of his pants.
“What have we here?” she mused, nudging him over with her hip so she could sit
down beside him. Her fingers slid along his burgeoning length.
“A tasteful little morsel?” he inquired.
Catherine’s smile was predatory. “There is nothing little about this delicacy,
milord,” she told him. Leaning over, she took him into her mouth.
Khenty closed his eyes to the delicious sensations coursing through his body. She
was gently molding his sac with her right hand as she wrapped the fingers of her left
hand around his shaft. Using a back and forth motion with her hand, she drew him
deep into her mouth, laving the tip of him with her sweet tongue. He lowered his right
arm and threaded his fingers through her hair.
“You are a wonder, milady,” he whispered, and smiled at her grunt.
She was milking him and his blood was singing as she drew upon his taut flesh.
Supreme pleasure had settled in his loins and he felt as though he would burn to a
cinder as she worked her magic on his willing flesh. When she lightly squeezed his balls
and pulled firmly on his cock with the suction of her mouth, he exploded like a primed
cannon and trembled as the climax took over his entire being.
Catherine looked up at him through her lashes, listening to the harshness of his
breath as he tried to draw in air and then lifted her head, swirling her tongue around
the dewy moisture still clinging to his shaft.
“Was that tasting to your satisfaction, milord?” she queried as she tucked him back
into his pants.
“Aye, milady,” he said with a yawn. “You have worn me to the nub with your
tasting.”
Laughing, Catherine pulled the covers over him. She checked on his bandage to see
if it needed changing and then leaned over him to place a soft kiss on his brow. “Sleep
well, my love,” she said.
Khenty was nearly asleep and could do no more than grunt in reply. By the time
Catherine eased the bedchamber door open and left, he was once more snoring lightly.
Kaelin looked up as Catherine came into the library. “Is he abed?”
“And snoring to wake even the hardest of hearing,” she laughed.
“How bad is the wound?” the Serenian asked.
“It was savage,” she replied. “The vrykolakas tore a chunk out of his flesh, nicking
the bone. There was copious venom in that bite and not all of it drained from him
before the healer cauterized the wound.”
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“Ouch,” Kaelin said. “Luckily Khenty’s immortal. Such a bite would have killed
and turned an ordinary man.”
“Immortal,” Catherine said. “I’m still not used to the implications of that.”
Kaelin nodded. “I imagine it does take some—”
The mirror across the way from them flew off the wall as McGregor spoke and hit
the wall opposite it, shattering the glass into thousands of fragments, spraying
Catherine and Kaelin with shards that luckily were not large enough to hurt them.
Kaelin jumped up, unsettled by what had happened. “How did—”
Before he could finish the question, the books on several shelves tumbled to the
floor with a loud bang. Items on Khenty’s desk flew off the shining surface and landed
on the floor in a heap before being drawn up by an unseen whirlwind to be tossed all
about the room. The chandelier overhead rattled ominously and the curtains at the
windows were torn from their rods.
“It is Nyria,” Catherine said calmly. “Sit down, Lord Kaelin. If you ignore her, she’ll
subside.”
The Serenian sat down on the sofa uneasily, turning his head about the room as first
one thing then another crashed against the wall or floor. “Does this not disturb you,
milady?” he asked, his eyes wide.
“They are the actions of a spoiled child who has been denied what she wants. I will
be here long after Nyria has been cast into the Abyss.”
Though papers and flowers flew all around her, Catherine sat still, untouched by
the debris. When the last book had tumbled from the shelves and there was nothing else
that could be broken or torn, the commotion ended and the room in shambles.
“Do you know what happens to souls judged unworthy of rest, milord?” Catherine
asked.
Kaelin shook his head. He was staring at the destruction.
“Khenty will escort the dead one to be judged and when her heart has been deemed
unclean, a monster will rear up and devour her, leaving nothing of her behind. She will
spend her eternity in the belly of that monster.”
A loud wailing sound reverberated through the halls of Anubeion. It was the lost
cry of a condemned being and Catherine almost felt sorry for the dead woman. She
looked at Kaelin.
“Such is the fate of she who murdered five people to gain what was never hers to
begin with.”
Another ululation of misery skirled through the mansion, only to die away into a
piteous whimpering.
“Khenty told me she would have tried eventually to take his life with the powder
she had used to keep him immobile. Enough of it would have paralyzed his lungs and
very possibly would have caused brain damage,” Catherine said quietly. “It wouldn’t
have killed him as she intended. The result would have been far worse than death.”
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“Surely she had to know she couldn’t kill him,” Kaelin said.
“I don’t believe she was thinking clearly, milord. She wanted only what she wanted
with no thought to what might happen. I doubt she even considered the fact that she
would be damned for all eternity.”
Once more the unearthly yowl echoed around them then died to a pathetic
whimpering. A cold wind shot through the room then all was quiet, the heat from the
fireplace reaching out to warm them.
“Hell hath no fury, eh?” Kaelin said, taking out a kerchief to wipe the sweat from
his brow.
“Indeed,” Catherine said. She looked up as Rajab appeared in the doorway. “Yes,
Rajab?”
The Medjai bowed respectfully, the black material of his head covering falling
forward to partially hide his dark features. “Your pardon, Your Grace,” he said to
Catherine, “but there are no other servants for Anubeion. If you would trust me with
the hiring, I will see to it for you. My wife has sent food for the evening meal but there
is tomorrow to consider.”
Catherine smiled at the enigmatic man. “And I’m not that adept at cooking. I would
be grateful for your assistance, Rajab. We most definitely will need a cook and butler,
perhaps a maid or two and someone who would be willing to take on the duties as
housekeeper. I would also like the women of the estate to return so we can finish the
cleaning we started.”
“My wife would be honored to be temporary housekeeper until we can find a
woman to your satisfaction, Your Grace, and I have daughters who have expressed an
interest in working on the estate. My brother-in-law would make you a fine butler. As
for a cook, I believe there is a middle-aged widow who would suit nicely.”
“Then if you would see to their hiring, I would appreciate it.”
Rajab bowed once more and left.
“He’s a good man,” Kaelin said.
“I believe so,” Catherine agreed.
Kaelin’s brow crinkled. “There is still the matter of the superstitious fear that
permeates Anubeion. The villagers worry about the creature that—”
“No longer has a need to roam the hills in search of its mate,” Catherine said.
A warm smile flitted over the Serenian’s handsome face. “That is true, milady. I
believe its loneliness is a thing of the past.”
“I know it is,” Khenty said from the doorway. He waved a hand as Kaelin would
have risen. “We’ve a matter to discuss, my friend.”
Kaelin glanced at Catherine. “Can it not wait, Khenty? I don’t imagine you feel well
enough to go over business.”
“I am well enough and there is the matter of the taricheutes,” Khenty said.
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“Bahru?” Catherine questioned. “What of him, milord?”
“There may not be much of him left in the hills of Rhada’s estate but what little
there is should be returned to his family. Personally, I would just as soon leave him out
there and not have to worry about jigsawing his pieces back together again, but his
family deserves better. His soul will enter the croc as surely as I’m standing here, but
what is left of his mortal remains should be sent back to Kensett. I don’t want his
remains on Rhada’s land.”
Kaelin nodded. “I understand. I’ll send a party to retrieve what they can. Where
should we look?”
“Tell the men to go first to Prince Rhada and explain their mission. The taricheutes
was on holy ground, near the gravesites, and I don’t want any misunderstandings with
his Stravteuma. Prince Rhada can tell our men where to find what’s left.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Kaelin acknowledged.
Khenty sat down beside his wife and threaded his fingers through hers. “One more
thing,” he said. “Prepare a letter for my lady to sign asking the Lady Olabishi if she
would consider returning to Anubeion as our housekeeper. Offer her a goodly salary
and let her know neither Nyria nor the taricheutes is here to cause her trouble. Tell her
my lady misses her.”
Tears welled up in Catherine’s eyes. During the time she had spent with the mute
woman, she had grown to care a great deal for her. She would be overjoyed if Olabishi
would consent to return. She squeezed her husband’s hand in gratitude.
Khenty drew his lady up as he stood. “Now, there is work my wife and I need to
undertake.” He looked at Catherine. “We had a death during the night.”
Catherine nodded. She turned to the Serenian. “Please let Ola know that she is truly
needed here.”
“Consider it done,” Kaelin said, getting to his feet.
* * * * *
A Week Later
Hand in hand, Khenty and his lady climbed the stairs to their bedchamber. It was
late—the sun already beginning to rise. The night passed had been a good one and
there had been many shades within the Underworld for Catherine to meet.
“I can barely put one foot ahead of the other,” Catherine said, hiding a yawn. They
had reached the landing and her steps were dragging.
Khenty scooped his wife up into his arms, gazing down at her with all the love that
his heart could hold. “Then let me be your feet, my beauty,” he said. He bent his head
to claim her lips. “And your strength.”
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He carried her to their bed and laid her down, hovering there for a moment as he
took in the sight of her stretching, her breasts like twin mounds of temptation calling to
him. His hands went to the belt of his shendyt kilt.
“Slowly, my husband,” Catherine said, her eyes no longer showing the tiredness
that had been there a moment before.
Khenty arched a dark brow. “You want me to strip for you, wench?”
Her slow, seductive smile was all the encouragement he needed. With infinite care
he peeled the kilt from his lean hips.
“And the collar,” she said.
He nodded and reached up to unhook the elaborate gold broad collar that encircled
his neck.
“And the armbands.”
“Totally naked, eh?” he countered.
“Without any hindrance on your luscious body,” she replied, pushing herself up on
her elbows.
Khenty chuckled softly. “Wicked woman,” he stated, but took off all of the jewelry
of his office. When he stood there unadorned and as bare as the day he was born, his
lady-wife gave him a slow look from head to do.
“You’ll do,” she said, and lay back down, her hands behind her head.
“Will I now?” he queried. He folded his arms over his brawny chest. “And what of
you, wench?”