Trefoil (17 page)

Lillian silently slipped into Nathan’s bedroom, closing the door behind her. He lay  across his bed, sheet concealing him to his waist. One bare foot hung off the edge. The moon pouring through his window kissed his flesh and turned him to granite. The light flickered and the inky lines of Nathan’s lightning bolt tattoos writhed.

Her feet floated across the plush carpet. At the bedside, she paused to strip the nightgown over her head. It fell to the floor with a whispered promise. Carefully, she drew the sheet down and slid naked onto Nathan’s body. Her mouth dipped to his tattoo.

Her soul separated with a screeching rent, dumping them into the swirling waters the color of blue tattoos and blood.

Oh, God. The pain. She leapt from the bed, dizzy and disoriented, blinded by the darkness in her own bedroom, not Nathan’s. The screeching continued, and she realized it was coming from her.

John sat up, dazed. Lillian spun for the bathroom, slammed the door and twisted the lock. For a trembling minute, she leaned against it, fighting to think straight. She fumbled off her nightgown and touched the spot on her breast which was an agony. Blood trickled warmly over her hand.

She faced her reflection. Her screaming stopped at once, to be replaced by John’s. He beat the door, yelling, “Lillian, what’s going on? Are you all right?”

Hot water rushed into the sink, splashing the mirror as she tried to wet a cloth. Her teeth clamped hard on the pain. If she loosened her jaw, she’d scream again.

The door rattled in the frame. “Lillian, answer me. I’m going to break in the door.” Then his tone changed. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Nathan’s voice was deadly calm. “I heard screaming.”

“Get the hell out of here. I’ll handle my own wife!”

Shaking with pain, she dragged the icy, dripping cloth over her skin to staunch the blood. Dante’s and Will’s voices drifted to her. “Stop, Nate. Back off.”

“John, get hold of yourself. It’s Lillian we must concern ourselves with now.”

Pounding. “Lillian, let me in,” John yelled.

“Maybe she’s fainted.”

Lillian.

She sank to the floor, the cloth clutched over her heart.

Lillian, answer me.

I’m bleeding.
Her mind was sluggish, her teeth chattering.

I’m coming in.

She snapped to attention.
No.
For all ears, she said, “Will only.”

Will squeezed through the tiniest possible crack in the door. His knees hit the floor before her. “What the hell happened?”

“A dream. . . it happened in a dream.”

“Fuck.” He scooped an arm beneath her naked thighs and around her shoulders and sat her on the countertop. She slumped forward, and he supported her weight while frantically wrestling with a clean towel and water. “Are you faint?”

“N. . . no. cold.”

He snagged a bathrobe from the hook and wrapped it about her. The wet towel pressed to her breast and she winced.

“The wrist too,” she said, holding it up.

“My God,” he cried, eyes rolling back in his head. His chest worked, and for a horrific moment, she thought he might faint. Then she remembered immortals weren’t supposed to faint. Only her.

A heavy sweat broke over her, soaking her from temple to the soft spot behind her knee. She hung her head over the sink and vomited.

Lillian,
Nathan exclaimed.

“Get the fuck out of here,” John ordered.

“Make me,” Nathan said through clenched teeth.
Baby, what’s happening?

She gulped air while Will rinsed the sink and dabbed her forehead. “Feels good,” she murmured.
Will has the bleeding almost stopped.

Christ.

“What in hell were you dreaming?” Will asked. He looked at her hard. “Never mind. I can guess. I never imagined something like this could happen from a dream.”

She was sitting up on her own, though Will anchored her with an arm around her waist. The fog of her mind was thinning, the pain receding, the blood stopped. She focused on Will. “What are we going to do with the bloody linens?”

“I’ll wrap them in a towel and smuggle them out so John doesn’t see. Have you been Calling to Nate?” He probed the medallion of John’s blood on her wrist, and she sucked in a hissing breath. “I think it’s ok. Let me see the other.” He parted her robe to reveal a second pinprick over her heart.

“I need my bracelets,” she said, voice stronger.

Grimly, Will passed her the cuffs and watched as she positioned them, flinching at the touch of the left cuff. “Okay?” he asked, sagging at the knees to peer into her face. His thumbs stroked away her tears and he smoothed her hair. She nodded. “What’s the story? What are we telling John?”

“I had a bad dream about you, and only seeing you would convince me you were okay.”

“Good. John’s going berserk. I can hear him.”

“Back off, LeClair. I don’t want to kick your ass, but I will.”

“I should have stepped over your dying body and kept walking, you worthless scum. I don’t know what role you play in my wife’s life, but I’m checking it. This is the first and last warning I’ll give you. Keep your distance from Lillian.”

“She can choose her own friends.”

“You son of a bitch, I’ll kill you now,” John growled.

Lillian cringed at the sound of blows. Dante shouted, “Enough. This is my house and I will not tolerate this behavior.”

Lillian’s head was beginning to spin again. She cradled it. “Let him in, Will. It’s the only way to make him stop.”

“Which him?”

“John.” She didn’t move from her perch on the countertop. When Will opened the door, John shoved him into the doorframe in his hurry to reach her. Will escaped with the bloody laundry, snagging Nathan on his way out and towing him away.

Call to me,
he said before his blond head vanished.

“Oh, my God, Lillian. Are you all right? What happened?” John grasped her hands, searched her face. He wore a cut on his cheekbone from Nathan’s fist. Her dizziness had receded and she was able to focus on her link to Nathan again. His knuckles were burning, split from striking John.

“Just a nightmare,” she said. “I dreamed something happened to Will, and I was a little hysterical. I’m very sorry to have caused all this distress.”

“As long as you’re okay,” he crooned, hugging her gently.

“You’re cut.”

“I know.” His voice was sharp as razors. “That bastard hit me.”

“You were a bit antagonizing.”

“Whatever. He’s nothing. All that matters is you. Do you need anything?”

“A drink.” She hopped off the counter onto wobbly legs but managed to get to the hall before John registered her intentions.

Dante intercepted her and wound an arm about her waist. Maria was present too, her forehead creased in concern. “You’re okay, my dear?” Dante asked.

“Yes. I need you to pour me a drink.”

* * * * *

As Lillian neared the library, a great wall of heat rose between her and Nathan, growing, swelling, sweltering, each degree mounting higher than the last. The world shrank to a point of light outlining Nathan. She stepped across the threshold and the blast of heat was so intense they both blinked.

He sprang forward.

No, Nate.

What did you do in that dream?

She was desperate to meet his eyes, to see her need mirrored there, but carefully kept in profile. John was two inches from her and all eyes.
Weren’t you there as well?
she asked.

Nathan passed a hand over his face and winced at the fat lip John had given him.

John encircled her waist with an arm, encouraging her to sit. Her skin was crawling with a mixture of lust and sensitivity, finely tuned to Nathan’s every twitch. He wanted her. His mouth wore that irresistible bracket, his cock bulged against the front of his jeans and his chest was bare. Dear God, how would she withstand him with John present?

Nathan shifted.
You can’t touch me, Lillian. Not again.

She sank to the sofa beside John, and Nathan watched her every move. Beneath his gaze, she smoldered. He knew that beneath her robe she wore another mark of his blood. The first dot of her medallion had gained her access to his thoughts, the second gave her his heat. Her soul was an inferno and her body ready to combust with need. If he didn’t spread her out and fuck her now, she might go mad.

Dante placed a tumbler of whiskey in her hand. She threw it back like the best of men, swallowing around the fire that was nothing compared to the blaze in her veins. Her nipples bunched beneath her robe, aching for Nathan’s touch. Her skin prickled to be caressed. Her pussy throbbed to be licked, plundered, invaded.

Nathan groaned, spinning to the mantel and holding his head in his hands at the lascivious thoughts racing through her mind.

She asked Dante for a second drink, and John gaped at her.

I’m sorry I scared you.

All I care about is you. You’re my world. We have to find a way to stop this. I can’t lose you.

You’re not losing me. You’re gaining me. Don’t you feel it?

Hot green eyes flicked from her hairline to the arch of her foot, raising the fine hair on her body. Maria and Dante exchanged a look. Will shifted toward her.

“John, I’d like to talk to Lillian alone,” Will said. “About the dream.”

His eyes narrowed, looking between her and Will, then glancing at Nathan’s back.

“Go on to bed, John,” she said. “I’ll be up later.”

Nathan crossed the library and disappeared through the doorway without a backward glance. Dante touched Maria’s arm, and she came forward with a blanket, tucking it about Lillian’s shoulders. Will busied himself pouring a drink while John took his leave with a kiss and a “see you upstairs.”

The fire crackled. A log slipped, raising a spray of sparks. Lillian clutched the soft blanket beneath her chin and drained her glass. Will took it from her and set it aside. He seated himself next to her, thighs touching. He glanced at the doorway, and then back to her.

“You know this is a cover.”

“I know.”

“I’ll wait a few more minutes to make sure John is in bed.”

“Thank you,” she said, laying a hand on his forearm. “For everything. You’re an amazing friend. And someday, you’ll receive your own Calling, and it will not be so hard.”

“Let’s pray.” He sipped his scotch. The smoky scent of it hung about them. Her own drink hit her system. She sat up straighter, more alert than sleepy, desire pumping through her.

She concentrated on the far off room, tried to follow John’s movements, but all she felt was the wall of heat rushing toward her. Nathan.

As he appeared through the revolving bookcase, Will loped to the door. “Be careful,” he said before he left.

And then Nathan was upon her, pressing her into the sofa cushions, his hips grinding hers and his mouth hovering an inch away. His eyes burned into hers, and then flickered to her left breast.

“I’ve got to see it,” he whispered hoarsely. He parted her robe, revealing the two dots of his blood, tiny and spaced like a snake bite. His forehead dropped to her collar bone, his chest working with emotion. “My God, Lillian. It’s gorgeous. I shouldn’t feel happy about it, but goddammit, I am.”

His mouth slammed into hers, kissing her with a need that she’d never felt before. His beard scraped her. His steely lips bruised hers, his tongue forced her lips apart and assaulted hers. She met him stroke for stroke, sinking her teeth into his lower lip and dragging him nearer. She twisted the hair at the back of his head.

Nudging her thighs apart with one knee, he thrust his thigh, rough in denim, against her moist, bare pussy. She gasped and they tumbled into the waters again, swirling in blackness and sensation and heat. When she surfaced, a third dot of Nathan’s blood oozed on her breast, and his face was buried between her legs.

His tongue split her swollen lips, running down the seam. His hands were rough against her inner thighs as he pressed them up and away, spreading her, exposing her. The pink edges of her labia unfurled, glistening with wetness. He moaned and dove into her heat. She bucked against his face as he speared her soaking hole with his tongue. She wanted more. A finger. Two fingers. His long, thick shaft sinking slowly into her, opening her tight walls, probing the tip of her womb. She grabbed his head and smashed it against her sex, rising and falling in rhythm with his tongue. She was on the brink of orgasm, shuddering all over, sweat dewed upon her skin. When he sucked her hardened pearl into his mouth, she stopped breathing. He sucked her big clit hard, pulling it with his lips and teeth, tongue poking her core. The convulsions took her without warning, peaking and curling. Hot come squirted into his waiting mouth and he moaned, lifted her hips and gulped it down. She bit off her screams, head twisting sharply into the cushions to stifle them.

His mouth softened against her wet pussy, lapping it slowly, swirling his tongue deeply as she came down from the most earth-shattering orgasm of her life. He raised his head, meeting her gaze. Juices glistened on his chin in the firelight. His hair was spiky where her fingers had been. He grinned at her and kissed a path up her belly to the small spot of blood forming over her heart.