Swamp Magic (Crimson Romance) (12 page)

She glanced over in that direction and saw nothing. The utter darkness she found herself cloaked in seemed endless, and she instinctively leaned right and breathed a sigh of relief when her body rubbed against the cool solidness of the rock wall next to her.

Carefully, she patted her hands all around her bottom half and found, within inches in front of, behind and to one side of her, nothing but air. That was when the true terror set in, and the vague image of falling into an endless abyss took hold and she plastered herself against the caves wall. She remembered the fall, the sharp crack and pain before oblivion stole her away. Where the hell had she ended up, and how in Hades would she get herself the hell out?

More memories inched back into her mind. Moss and Damien fighting, the hurt and betrayed expression etched on Moss’s gorgeous face. Awakening in Damien’s arms, quite naked. All those flooded back with a bitter vengeance.

“Oh, God, what have I done, and with whom?” she whispered through waves of shame and anxiety.

Damien had implied she’d been out of her mind with desire and carnal needs, but had she? Did some damn spell really cause her extreme reaction? She believed in magic. Had been around the essence of witchcraft all her life, but until Octavia, had never witnessed such strong, dark magic being practiced before.

Well, hell, of course dark magic had the ability to turn her into a stark raving nymphomaniac. She knew people toyed with that kind of power; she’d just never had a whammy of that sort placed on her. Oh, she’d heard rumors through the years. She’d read about the horrors of love spells gone awry; where either the spell had pushed the intended farther away, or brought them so close the caster of the spell couldn’t move an inch without their so-called beloved. But being on the receiving end of a hardcore, X-rated, sexual spell? She’d never had reason to think about such a thing.

Either way, the episode with Damien had to have appeared bad from Moss’s perspective. Truthfully, had she walked in on Moss with someone else — well, it wouldn’t have ended with a pretty scene. She would have ripped a bitch a new face.

Damn old hag will wish she’d never met me by the time I’m done with her.

Oh, yeah, the bitch would pay for this. Not only had she fucked up Moss’s life and most likely Damien’s too, but now Octavia seemed intent on screwing Beth’s over as well.

Well, fuck the old bag of bones. Beth didn’t plan on lying down, pun intended, and taking it. She’d gather the aunts, and together they’d conjure up their own damn whammy. Yep, they’d fuck Octavia’s world all up by sending the old hag back to whatever hell she’d spawned from. Well, as soon as Beth figured out how to get out of her current predicament.

“Beth.” Her name rang out from far above her. Her heart thundered. Thank God they’d found her. She’d started to call back, until she froze in mid thought, her voice suddenly forsaking her.

She wanted to be saved, but being saved right now also meant another round of confrontation. She couldn’t handle seeing the hurt again on either man’s face. Nor was she truly ready to admit what she’d done. What she’d experienced with Damien. Yes, it might have only transpired due to a spell, but from what she remembered, she’d enjoyed his efforts at saving her.

Fuck that. She wasn’t about to fall off into the freaking abyss just to save face.

“Down here,” she managed to squeak. The current terror at her situation was evident in her quivering tone.

“We see you. Do
not
, I repeat, do
not
move one muscle,” Moss ground out.

He sounded as scared as she did, and she was the one perched on the ledge next to a drop-off with no bottom in sight. She overheard the guys whispering above her.

“Even with my heightened sense of sight, I cannot make out the bottom.”

“I can’t either, Damien. We need to get to her fast.”

“Beth, do what Moss said — don’t move an inch.”

“Uhh, like duhh,” she spat, sore, tired and a little sarcastic.

“She seems a bit miffed,” Damien muttered under his breath, apparently perplexed as to why. Typical male, she mused.

“Of course she would; she’s been through tremendous events these last few days.” Moss sounded rather defensive of her, winning another brownie point. Just hearing him get defensive on her behalf made her heart go pitter-pat. Maybe he hadn’t been as angry as she’d originally thought. She could hope, couldn’t she?

A light spattering of rocks and loose dirt came raining down, and try as she might, she wasn’t able to hold back her startled shriek. She tried to shield her eyes from the falling debris while not falling over the edge in the process. Her bottom was way too close to the edge, though she hadn’t moved anything but her arms.

“God, Beth, are you all right?” they both yelled, sounding frantic.

“Uh, yeah, but guys, whatever you did, please, please don’t do it again.” She tried to add a touch of humor to her voice, but knew she hadn’t quite succeeded. The tumbling rocks had been a quick reminder of how potentially deadly her situation was.

“Look, we both can’t go down to get her. Do you have any rope?” Moss asked taking charge.

“Yeah, hold on a sec. I’ve got some back in my chambers.”

“What’s going on up there? Is something wrong? What aren’t you telling me?” She sure as hell hoped nothing else had gone wrong.

Please, no more surprises today. Please, please, please,
She prayed.

“Beth, baby, hold still. Do not move a muscle until I can reach you, okay?” Moss called down to her.

“Exactly where do you think I would go, oh, Swampy One?” Okay, so her nerves were shot and she’d become a bit hysterical. So sue her. When Moss rumbled above her, chuckling at her clever yet smart-ass reply, something inside her instinctively calmed. As though her soul understood Moss would never allow her to get hurt. Well, not seriously anyway.

“Damien has gone to get rope, and as soon as he’s back, I’m coming down to get you. Beth, I swear on my life, I’m not letting anything happen to you. I just need you to remain still and calm.”

“Okay, I’ll be here. I don’t have any better place to be right now, though I am checking my calendar as we speak.”

“Oh, I can think of many better places you could be,” he teased.

“You can, can you?”

“Oh yes, I most certainly can.” His voice dropped even deeper, becoming more baritone.

“And where would that be?” She had her suspicions, but as angry as he’d been, she wanted him to say it.

“I think you already know the answer to that. Don’t you, Beth?”

“Moss?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m … I’m so very, very sorry.” Her voice lowered, quivering as she uttered those painful but truthful words. The need to apologize overwhelmed her, and yet she feared her timing.

“I know, and we can discuss what took place later. Right now, though, let’s concentrate on getting you to safety.” Though his words spoke assurance, she couldn’t mistake the pain lacing them.

Damien returned and, sensing the uneasy silence between them, wordlessly handed Moss the rope, taking in his old friend’s unsure appearance.

Light shuffling began above her, and she knew Moss was gearing up to rappel down to her. Just as she began to sigh in relief, an evil laugh echoed through the cave. A cackle that froze her blood. The steps above stopped as Moss and Damien cursed at the witch’s untimely arrival.

“Keep her busy at all costs,” Moss commanded Damien.

“I’ll do my best — just get Beth to safety,” Damien beseeched, sounding nearly as concerned as Moss.

Beth still had to make amends to Damien. He hurt, and she didn’t want him to take sole responsibility for what had happened between them. It was what it was, no more, no less. He lived a reclusive life, and she sensed the deep loneliness that surrounded him.

The high-pitched laugh went silent far too quickly for things to be good. Beth’s gut screamed to prepare for some bad shit coming at her. Sure enough, the small ledge she perched on gave way beneath her.

The horrid sensation of free falling set in again, but the scream hadn’t even passed her trembling lips before a steely arm clamped about her waist, thankfully tight. So damn tight, in fact, she feared air wouldn’t be able to enter her lungs again.

Moss had her. She loved the feeling of being safe in his secure embrace.

Then they slammed against the unyielding stone of the cave’s interior wall with such force an audible
swoosh,
followed by a whack, ricocheted around them.

“Are you unharmed?” Moss asked when they’d finally stilled.

“Uh, yeah. Yes,” she managed to eke out between pained gasps. “Don’t suppose you’ve ever watched
George of the Jungle
?”

“Who?”

“Never mind. I’m a bit delirious, I think.”

“Climb onto my back and wrap your legs about my waist. Can you do this, Beth?”

She glanced down, which turned out to be a huge mistake. Huge.

She couldn’t see a thing, only pitch blackness, and realized only one thing kept her from plunging into the darkness. An arm. One large, muscular arm that happened to be attached to an equally muscular body belonging to Moss. Though she trusted Moss, the thought was still quite disconcerting. She didn’t doubt Moss’s capabilities, but she’d rather not test her theories about his strength and endurance.

She carefully shifted her arms to reach up around his neck, and even in the dark, she could make out the subtle glow of his special, nocturnal eyes. Their glinting apparently allowed him keen vision even through the darkest of darks. Though she lacked his visual gift, she knew the moment they’d locked eyes. Felt it in her soul. His beckoning for her to do what needed to be done and trust in him.

“You must move quickly as I fear Octavia’s quick return,” he whispered, urging her onto him by nudging her thigh with his.

Using his shoulders as anchors, she hoisted herself higher, climbing his body like a ladder. Once they were pelvis to pelvis, she wrapped her legs around his waist and locked her ankles. Once Beth was secure, Moss began the climb back up. She could do no more than hold tight, rest her head upon his sculpted back, and pray like hell.

Once they’d reached the top and were back to where she could see a damn thing, she noted the extreme worry marring his beautiful face. Moss had been that frightened for her? Or was it perhaps fear of the witch’s wrath? She hoped for the first, but after his dismay at what he deemed her betrayal, she wasn’t positive, only hoping.

She didn’t have long to wait for her answer. He pulled her roughly against him, and his lips came down on hers. She no longer had any doubts. This was a claiming. A marking of one’s territory, of possession, and she readily embraced him.

Her heart soared. Moss still wanted her. So much so, he’d marked her, and witch or no witch, her world suddenly felt right. As if a part of her had always been missing until she’d found him.

Moss completed her. With him she became whole
.

Her tongue swept past his, their breathing ragged and needy while the evidence of his increased desire pressed hard against her belly. What she wouldn’t give for another magical night with Moss at his secluded, rustic cabin.

Okay, shack. Whatever. If Moss lived in it, as far as she was concerned it was the Taj freaking Mahal.

One arm encircled her waist while the other pressed up under her ass, forcing her to wrap her legs about his waist once again. This time, under entirely better circumstances. Their lips were still locked when she felt the sharp chill on her back where he used the cave’s wall to assist help him control their position.

She edged her hands under his shirt, seeking out the cool touch of his skin. Where most men would feel warm, Moss’s reptilian side kept his body temperature a bit cooler than the norm, and she could care less. In fact, she found it rather exotic. The sensation of his cool skin as it slid against hers brought tingles over the surface of her skin.

He continued his urgent thrusts, and she was about to say the hell with it and strip his pants off right then and right there. The witch could kiss her royal ass. He was Beth’s, and only Beth’s. Ms. Skankass needed to find her own boyfriend. Maybe a skunk.

But getting jiggidity against the cave wall probably wouldn’t be the best idea right then. As if Moss had come to the same sad conclusion, he reluctantly released her legs but continued pinning her with his body. Head bowed, he struggled to regain control, thus allowing her to try to control the shaking in her legs. She understood his reluctance to let her go. If they stayed together, no one had the power to tear them apart. Beth didn’t want to let go any more than he did, but they needed to boogie somewhere safe.

“That was highly wrong of me,” he whispered as his lips brushed her ear. “To endanger you again in such a way. We need to get moving. I need to get you to safety. Get you back home
.”

He sounded firm, yet sadness resonated at the mere thought of them parting once again. Sheer determination forced her to step away so she would be able to get eye to eye with him when she explained they would not be parting again anytime soon. Octavia was a powerful witch capable of getting to Beth no matter where she hid. It would be better if they stuck together. Plus after the last time they’d parted, bad shit came down. On all of them.

“Moss, I’m not leaving you, but you’re right about the home part. However, you, my friend are coming with me.”

“I cannot,” he stated gruffly before looking elsewhere about the cave. His gaze held longing and hope locked deep within.

“And why can’t you? My home not good enough for you?” She hoped to lure him with the pretense he’d offended her. She even propped a hand on her jutting hip as she impatiently waited for his reply.

“No, I meant no disrespect to your home. I am sure it is a lovely, warm place. I … I no longer fit in your world. Now we must go,” he stated purposefully, trying to close the subject from further discussion.

Dude, don’t piss me off.

Moss tried to pull her with him, but she dug her heels into the hard dirt floor and refused to budge.