Warrior's Heart: Iron Portal Series (Paranormal Romance) (17 page)

D'Angelus wiped the foam from his mouth with the back of his hand. “Rickert and Asher told me you detected several unknown portals on the way here. Can you show them to the Iron Guild?”

Vince nodded, eager at the change of subject. “Of course. And I found one ten years ago near Zara’s family farm.” He flicked a glance her way. “How far away is that from here?”

“A good three or four days,” she answered.

“Very good then,” D'Angelus said. “We’ll start the mapping process tomorrow.”

Z
ara had had
a few sex dreams before, so when broad hands pushed her legs apart in the middle of the night, she obediently opened them and thought about grabbing the vibrator in her nightstand.

The mattress shifted. Something rough tickled the sensitive skin between her inner thighs. And then, without warning, there was a long, sinful lick.

Ooooh-kaaaaay. Definitely not a dream.

Her new reality came back with a snap. She was in the castle in Cascadia, not her house in Pacifica. In a bedchamber she shared with Vince. Darius was sleeping in a room down the hallway with the other boys.

They were safe. They were together.

She bucked her hips and grabbed at his hair. “Vince!” Her voice echoed through the darkness of the spacious room.

“I woke you,” he said softly, as if he was surprised.

Seriously? She would’ve laughed at the absurdity of those three words if she weren’t on the edge of an orgasm already.

He groaned, a deep sound that vibrated against her core. “But I couldn’t help it. This is too sweet. I couldn’t leave without having a taste of you first.”

A flare of panic clawed at her heart.

Leave? He was leaving?

And then she remembered.

He and Asher were going to check out the possible portals he’d sensed on the way here. They would be gone for several days. His absence would only be temporary.

“Relax,” he whispered against her, instinctively feeling her tension. “Just enjoy this.”

She did as he commanded and her muscles unknotted.

“Mmmm, that’s perfect.” He slid two fingers inside her—two long, very skillful fingers—and continued that relentless, mind-blowing assault with his tongue.

A powerful orgasm spiraled through her body. Just before it peaked, he slowed down his rhythm. Slower. And slower. And then even slower. Intensifying everything she felt. She clutched at his hair. Cried out and shuddered as he coaxed every last ounce of pleasure from her body.

When he finally withdrew, she sprawled out on the bedclothes, boneless and utterly spent.

Or so she thought.

Vince didn’t even give her a chance to catch her breath. “Since you’re awake,” he rasped, as if that were some sort of explanation for what he was planning to do next.

Moving in slow, fluid motions, he repositioned her beneath him, his large, warm hands on her hips. Then she felt the broad tip of him where his mouth had been a moment earlier. As he pushed into her, he let out a guttural, almost animalistic groan.

Or maybe
she’d
made that sound. She was still so sensitive.

“Holy hell. So slick. So warm.” His head fell forward, the veins on his neck bulging. He was watching where they were joined, the expression on his face pure determination as he pounded into her. “So mine.”

His possessive declaration thrilled her, which surprised her. She’d been an independent woman for as long as she could remember. No one owned her. And yet she found it incredibly erotic to hear Vince say that she was his.

She hadn’t expected to climax again so soon, but there she was again. Shattering into a million quivering pieces as he pulsed into her, roaring his release.

When it was over, he collapsed next to her, swept the damp hair from her cheek and curled possessively around her.

“Mmmm,” she said dreamily. “That was spectacular.”

“Yeah, it was,” he said, his hand on her belly. “It was thoughts of this that got me through all those dark days.”

“Well, that’s all behind us now. We have the future together to look forward to.”

She felt his body stiffen slightly.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

She rolled over to face him. “I can tell that something’s bothering you.”

He stared at the ceiling and exhaled slowly. “I’m just worried, that’s all.”

“About what?”

It took him a moment to reply. “I’m not sure I’m what’s best for you and Darius.”

“What are you talking about?” She propped herself up on one elbow. “You’re exactly what we need. You’re the man I love and you’re Darius’s father. He adores you.”

“When I see Darius laughing and horsing around with Asher, for instance, I wonder if he’d be better off with a father-figure like that. Someone without all the darkness in their past that I have. Someone who isn’t fucked up and tainted.”

“You’re not, Vince,” she said softly, running a hand over his chest.

What kind of bullshit had the doctor put him through to make him question his worth like this? There was no arguing with him when he got this way, but the thought of him leaving one day was almost unbearable. “I wish you didn’t have to go on the portal-mapping mission so soon. Can’t it wait?”

“The Iron Guild can’t afford to let any portals go unguarded,” Vince said, a hint of frustration in his tone. “And I detected several on the way here.”

“But we just got here. We’re not even settled in yet. A few more days aren’t going to make a difference.”

His mouth tightened. “You’re not being fair, Zara. I’ve got no choice. Keeping you and Darius safe is the most important thing to me. Those portals are unguarded. And there could be more.”

Zara slept fitfully and when she woke the next morning, Vince was gone.

She pulled his pillow close and breathed in his masculine scent, regretting how they left things last night.

She got up and checked on Darius, who was busy having fun with Petra’s boys—his cousins, he called them—so she had the chamber maid bring in hot water for a long, leisurely bath. When she was done, she went through the stack of clothes that Neyla had given her. She chose a simple, yet beautifully made gray dress, kidskin leather boots and a lacy knit over-vest that hung past her hips.

Zara looked around for a mirror but didn’t see one. Everything seemed to fit perfectly, which surprised her a little. Neyla used to be a fashion designer with her own line, so Zara assumed her clothes would be a better fit for skinny girls. But the woman clearly knew how to design clothes that flattered all shapes and sizes.

A few minutes later, she was knocking on Olivia’s door. Maybe she had a mirror in her quarters.

“Come in.”

She swung open the heavy door to find that Olivia was lacing up a pair of tall boots while Petra paced nervously back and forth. Alexandra and a woman she’d met the night before, Aunt Bettina, sat in two upholstered chairs, drinking tea and doing needlepoint, clearly unperturbed by whatever was bothering Petra.

“Am I interrupting something?”

“No, not at all,” Olivia replied. “I was just leaving, but Mom and Aunt Bettina are staying here if you want to hang out ‘til I come back.”

Petra was wringing her hands. Something was clearly wrong.

“What happened?” she asked.

“One of my boys got hurt,” Petra explained. “Down in the barn. We think he broke his leg.”

Aunt Bettina chimed in, pride beaming from her mismatched eyes. Many of the women who were from the village where Olivia’s mom was born had similar eyes. “So my niece, the healer, is going to fix him up.”

Zara got a sick feeling in her stomach. “Was Darius with him?”

Petra nodded. “He’s the one who ran up to get me. Apparently the boys were taking turns jumping out of the hayloft.”

If this had something to do with that Aerial Deadbeats vlog he was obsessed with, where people post stupid tricks and get hurt doing them, he was going to be in some serious hot water.

When they got to the barn, the boys were gathered around Petra’s son, a gangly, golden-skinned boy named Phillip. Olivia laid her hands on him and talked in soothing tones. The boy instantly relaxed as she used her healing Talent on him.

Zara pulled Darius aside. “Okay, young man, what happened?”

“We were just jumping into that pile of hay, and he fell on his leg wrong.”

Her hand flew to her chest as she looked up. Holy Fates. The hayloft was at least twenty feet high. “And whose idea was that?”

“They all thought it sounded fun.”

Yeah, I’ll bet they did.
“But whose idea was it?”

Darius pursed his lips and stared at the ground as if trying to decide what to tell her. He’d lied to her about stupid things he’d done before.

“It was my idea, Mom,” he said in a flurry of words. “I’m sorry.”

She felt a strange mixture of both anger and pride. He’d never ‘fessed up like this before. He sounded so grown up. “You’re lucky that Aunt Olivia is here to heal him. This isn’t like Pacifica where a mobile med-unit can patch you up or you can go to a hospital. Injuries like that—” she inclined her head to where Olivia was helping Phillip to his feet “—can be very serious here.”

“Do you think my dad will be disappointed in me?”

She kept her expression solemn even though her heart was bursting. The fact that Vince had already made such an impression on their son was huge. “I’m sure he’s not going to be happy about this, but he will be glad to hear that you were honest. Doing the right thing matters deeply to your dad.”

She thought back to their conversation the night before. How could Vince feel he wasn’t good for Darius? He was exactly what their son needed.

Later in the afternoon, after Olivia had taken a nap to recover from the energy drain, the two women strolled through the market, stopping at many of the vendors in the arts and crafts section. Jewelry. Candles. Textiles. Sculptures. Hand-dyed yarns. Gilded weapons.

Darius ran ahead of them, dragging Alexandra and Aunt Bettina toward a colorful tent selling pastries. Or to be more accurate, beignets, given the telltale ring of powdered sugar around Darius’s mouth.

It felt strange and foreign to be surrounded by family, like she was living in someone else’s skin and had to get used to it, but the feeling was good. Better than she imagined it would be.

She squeezed Olivia’s hand. “Thanks for being so tenacious in finding us.” Nodding in Darius’s direction, she watched him hug his grandmother, his face radiating the same happiness that she was feeling right now. “That, right there, means the world to me.”

Olivia smiled, her mismatched eyes crinkling at the corners. “I could say the same about you. My mother is over the moon with joy. Look at her. She got her son and a grandson all in one day.”

As they walked through the market, Zara thought about how different this lifestyle and its customs were, but at the root of it all, these were her people and everything fit nicely like a comfortable old shoe. She caught a whiff of curry and spices coming from one of the food vendors several rows away. Yeah, she was definitely home.

“It’s such a joy to finally be truthful to Darius about his heritage, when, for so long, I couldn’t say a word.”

“Why did you move over there in the first place?” Olivia asked. “Was it hard, just the two of you living in what had to be such a strange land?”

The Dynamic Duo, she’d called herself and Darius. Able to do anything by themselves.

Zara sighed. “Vince had told me a lot about what life was like, so it wasn’t a total shock. At the time, I didn’t have any ties to keep me here. Asher was who-knew-where and our mother…” Her voice trailed off and she forced herself to continue. “The sisters took me in, which is where I developed a love of history, particularly the old relics. There are some amazing and fascinating stories. When I heard the sisters lamenting over the fact that they’d located a priceless artifact in Pacifica but didn’t know how to retrieve it, I offered to steal it back.”

Olivia laughed. “And what was their reaction?”

“Pretty much that,” Zara replied with a rueful smile. “They thought I was crazy. So I spent the next few months honing my cloaking skills and learning martial arts to prove to them that I was capable.”

“Did Mariah help?” Olivia asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Ha. Of course.”

“Doesn’t surprise me. Asher calls her a ninja nun.”

Zara laughed. “A fitting description. When I got over there, Mariah introduced me to a former lover who taught me how to pick just about any lock.”

That wasn’t the only former fling of the woman’s that Zara had met. There was the baker who’d taught Zara how to use a modern kitchen. It was his recipe Zara had been using for the cupcakes. And then there was the marine mechanic, a dark-skinned man with white tribal tattoos, who had taught her how to drive.

“Picking locks is a nice skill for a thief to have,” Olivia teased. “Were you scared the first time?”

“Petrified and exhilarated.”

The first item she stole wasn’t the one the sisters had been talking about. It was a jewel-encrusted broach in someone’s private collection, which dated back to the time period just after the Obsidian Wars, when the Fates had divided the worlds. She immediately recognized its historical value when its owner, a wealthy library benefactor, brought the piece in to find out more about it. When she learned it would soon be sold at a fundraising auction, she was able to secure an invitation. It had been a simple matter to slip out, grab the relic while cloaked, and tuck it into her handbag. “Had the piece sold, who knew where it would’ve ended up?”

It had been such a rush. Every time was actually, and she loved it.

She made a mental note to talk to the sisters and let them know that even though her situation was different now, she still wanted to help.

Olivia stopped to examine a small silver box on a table with other trinkets. Lowering her voice, she said, “How do you get the items back through the portal?” Pacificans were known to sacrifice one of their own, ordering some poor, unsuspecting newbie to carry dense metal objects through the portals, which got them killed.

Zara shrugged. “That’s Mariah’s job. Maybe she’s immune from portal sickness, but I don’t know for sure.”

Olivia turned the object over in her hand. “Or she’s got a Healer-Talent waiting for her on the other side.”

Zara recalled how Olivia had made her own iron sickness disappear. “That’s possible, too.”

The other woman was quiet for a moment before speaking up again. “Do you think you could introduce me to the sisters? I’d like to learn more about what they do. Maybe there’s something I can do to help.”