Amy Sumida - Out of the Darkness (The Godhunter Book 11) Page 4

  “What a horrible history we have,” I whispered into Arach's chest as he pulled the heat away from our bedside candle to extinguish it.

  “That's why,” his voice seemed to surround me in the dark, becoming much more intimate, “it's so important for us to live joyously and make a better future for ourselves. For their sake as well as ours.”

  He slid out of the bed, pulling me with him.

  “What are you doing?” I didn't even realize he was pulling off my panties until they were gone.

  “Taking you out for some joy,” he pulled me against his naked body, pressing his heat and hardness into me as he kissed me silly.

  “Okay,” I gave a little goofy laugh as he escorted me out to the balcony. “Out here?”

  “Out here,” he affirmed as he climbed up on a chair and then onto the railing. “Give me your hand.”

  “Okay,” another goofy grin. I let him help me up onto the railing. “Half form?”

  “No, A Thaisce,” he smiled a wickedly. “It's time for you to learn how dragons love.”

  He held my hand as we jumped off the railing but we let go of each other to shift. The dragon burst from my skin and I went soaring into the sky, letting out a screech of delight. My mate circled around me, nudging me higher and higher until we shot out of the trees and into open air.

  He brushed up against me, his tail sliding down my flank, and my scales transferred the sensation down into my flesh. Another pass and his face brushed against mine, horns clicking and claws scraping over my back. I pulled up and hovered, looking for him, but he surprised me and came at me from beneath. Sliding up my sensitive underbelly, his body split my limbs wide, and my claws came to rest on his shoulders. I felt myself opening to him and him sliding inside smoothly.

  My claws gripped him tighter as his thick dragon arms slid under my wings, the tips of his claws catching around the base of them. He pulled me up and released me, over and over, so that it created a rhythmic, effortless motion. Our wings worked behind us, keeping us aloft with a whooshing thumping sound, like tribal drums in perfect beat with my thudding heart and the pounding of our bodies. Our necks were aligned, the fire rising in our throats fueling each other's heat, and our cheeks were pressed together tenderly.

  Then he started lifting me higher with each thrust and so I helped him, sending us both so high that our wings would have iced over if not for our internal temperatures. Steam started rising from our bodies as my dragon took over, instinct kicking in where knowledge fell short. I clung to him and we turned as one, pulling our wings in and diving back to the ground. Our heads pointed straight down, blowing streams of fire before us that billowed around our bodies as we fell. The heat intensified the pleasure, lifting our passion higher even as we plummeted, and delicious sensations bombarded me as I crested in a shivering rush that spread outwards to every nerve in my dragon body.

  We parted just before we reached the tree tops, a dramatic divergence that seemed more like a dance. The speed of it jerked his flesh from mine in a silky slide of pleasure that sent me through yet another roaring orgasm. We opened our wings at the same moment, catching the air and turning in a perfect curve that sent us heading back up for the open skies.

  To start all over again.

  Chapter Five

  “What do you think of Mairi?” Roarke asked as he claimed a seat next to me at the Spiral Table.

  We were having dinner in the Castle of Eight's dining chamber, a round affair with walls made of woven branches and flowering vines. The curving, spiraled table was at the precise center and took up almost the entire massive chamber. It took a good long while to walk to the center of it, which was where we were sitting of course.

  It went by rank, the lowest ranking fey got to sit at the outer end of the spiral and didn't have too far to walk. But if you were fey royalty, you had to wind yourself along the sweeping curves of the table, usually already filling with fey, until you reached the table's central end. It was such a long journey that brownies patrolled the wide path between the table's curves, serving refreshments to those who had to get to the center before they could eat. The inner end was where the High Royals sat of course but beside them were places for the rulers of the four kingdoms and beside those rulers were the Kings of Cats, now both earth and fire cats.

  Luckily, the High King had taken pity on us and allowed Roarke to sit beside us in the place where King Guirmean's Queen would have sat, if he had one. This may have been offensive to the other royalty but it prevented a cat fight between Roarke and his father so the offense was overlooked. No one wanted to see a cat fight between two men, not even the fey.

  “I like Mairi,” I looked across the table spirals toward the fire cat-sidhe in question. “She's got a fascinating beauty.”

  “Yes, her coloring is unique, even among our kind,” Roarke smiled wistfully. “The fire has only made her yellow eyes more beautiful. They're so much brighter now.”

  We'd thought that the transformation from earth to fire would result in fiery eyes for all of the cat-sidhe but so far Roarke had been the only one whose eyes had shifted completely to the flames. The other cats had kept their original colorings but gained a glimmer of fire in their eyes. Roarke thought it was because he was the first and is King to boot, and I'm inclined to agree with him. If only it didn't give him such a big ego.

  “I particularly like her skin,” I said to veer the subject away from where it was heading... the beauty of Roarke's eyes. He loved his new eyes and loved talking about them even more.

  “Yes, that's the unusual part,” it turned out that he was just as interested in talking about Mairi. “The striped hair,” he pointed out how Mairi's black hair was striped with gray like a tabby cat, “is not uncommon but the striped skin,” he smiled as he looked over her golden skin marked with stripes of a deeper tan color. It was subtle but striking. “Now that is unique.”

  “Are you in love, King Fire Cat?” I asked with surprise.

  “Maybe,” he shrugged and looked back at me. “I need to find a mate soon and there are only two fire cat-sidhe females at present. I like Una but she doesn't make my blood rush like Mairi.”

  “Why is there a rush for the rush?” I cocked my head at him. “We only have like, forever.”

  “I need a Queen so I can start making heirs,” he said as if I were slow. “I have responsibilities now, thank you very much. Not only am I a king but I have a very small court and I must expand it by any means necessary.”

  “Roarke,” I gaped at him. “Do you really feel that way?”

  “If my father didn't currently hate me, I'm sure he would tell me the very same thing,” Roarke cast a troubled glance toward the seat King Liam should have been sitting in. It was empty and I wondered if his father was avoiding him. “He'd tell me that to be a king is to accept the weight of a crown. I have to be a king now, V. I mean, Queen V.”

  “Roarke,” I gave him my bland face, the one that said clearly he was being an idiot. “Let me tell you what the House of Fire expects from you as King of Cats.”

  “Alright,” he nodded and set his face into serious lines. “Let me hear it.”

  “It's let me have it,” I shook my head, “but never mind.”

  “Why would you say let me have it?” He, of course, couldn't get past the insanity of the English language. “Words do not have substance, you can't touch them, you hear them. It should be let me hear it.”

  “It's not, okay?” I huffed. “It's let me have it or give it to me or lay it on me. Those are your choices.”

  “Well I don't like those options.”

  “Roarke,” I groaned.

  “Alright, proceed,” he said with a smirk, pleased with himself now that he'd managed to annoy me. “You may let me hear it.”

  “You're an idiot,” I sighed. “And now I've completely forgotten what I was going to say to you.”

  “My responsibilities as King of the Fire Cats,” he huffed. “You were going to tell them to me.”
<
br />   “Oh right,” I chuckled. “So your responsibilities are to govern your people fairly. To make sure they are comfortable and living productive lives. To try and make sure those productive aspects of their lives in some way helps the Fire Kingdom. And... this is very important, are you listening?”

  “Yes, yes, what is it?”

  “And you are to keep them from scratching up the furniture,” I finished with a big grin.

  “It was just that one rug,” he threw up his hands. “I was lying on it and it felt so good under my hands and my claws just popped out. I kind of dozed off and was so content that I kneaded the carpet a bit, okay? I'm sorry.”

  “That rug tied the room together.”

  “When did you turn into the Big Lebowski?”

  “Are you done?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good, keep your cats from tearing up my household items. That's it,” I lifted a brow. “Now, where in that list did you hear me mention a Queen and babies?”

  “Nowhere,” his expression started to lighten.

  “I'm not even ready for babies yet myself,” I huffed. “Do you really think I'd expect you, of all fey, to start procreating?”

  “What do you mean, me of all fey?” He lifted a brow at me. “Do I not seem like I'd make a good father?”

  “No,” Arach leaned over me and inserted his opinion dryly. “Do not have children until you are much older. Also, marry a woman a lot smarter than you. That shouldn't be too difficult for you to manage.”

  “Arach!” I chided as I hid a chuckle behind my hand. “I'm sure you'll make a fantastic father, Roarke. Sometime down the road.”

  “Fine,” he sighed and leaned back in his chair. “I surrender to your better judgment. Which means,” he sat up straight. “That I can fool around with any pussy I want.”

  “What did you just say to me?” I looked at him with round eyes.

  “I don't know,” he looked really confused. “What did I say?”

  “He meant pussy as in a cat-sidhe,” Arach snorted.

  “What else would I mean?” Roarke leaned closer, sensing vulgarity like a vulture senses carrion.

  “It's another word for a vagina,” I whispered to him.

  “No!” He whispered back. “Really? How did I not hear about this from the Intare?”

  “I have no idea,” I rolled my eyes. “I swear, sometimes I wonder if it's all they think about.”

  “It is,” Roarke nodded. “It's pretty much all I think about too, which is why we get along so well. No wonder they always laugh when I tell them I miss all the pussies back home.”

  “Oh, it can also mean someone who's a coward,” I thought I'd better give him all the meanings at once.

  “Why?” He looked about ready to take offense.

  “Because cats run away at the slightest disturbing sound,” Arach offered. “Humans have another term for it, scaredy cat. I've learned a lot from the laptop Vervain gave me. There's very amusing videos to be found on a website called Your Tubes.”

  “It's You Tube, honey,” I whispered to Arach.

  “We do not run away,” Roarke huffed. “Scaredy cat, what an idiotic concept.”

  “Normal cats are a bit jumpy,” I patted his shoulder. “It's a survival instinct but cat-sidhe are totally different. You in particular always get mad when I don't invite you along when we're about to hunt someone down.”

  “That's right,” he nodded. “I like fights.”

  “Just stay away from the rugs,” I said in a soft voice.

  “Oh I give up!” He huffed.

  “Hey!”

  “What?” Roarke gave me an affronted look. “I said I give up.”

  “No, look at that,” I pointed to an air-sidhe flying over the table. She came to a graceful landing next to her seat “She's cheating.”

  “Yeah, wings are handy,” Roarke grimaced.

  “I have wings,” I looked over to Arach. “Why didn't we just fly here?”

  “It's unseemly for royalty to-”

  “To cheat?” I cut Arach off.

  “Yes, Vervain,” Arach shook his head and chuckled. “It's unseemly for us to cheat.”

  “Well next time you can be seemly on your own,” I took a swig of wine. “When food's involved, it's no holds barred.”

  “Oh no,” Roarke lamented. “What ever shall we do when our Queen does something unseemly? She has ever been the perfect example of grace and proper etiquette for our court. All will fall into chaos and none shall survive!”

  “Do they make muzzles for cats?” I asked Arach offhandedly.

  “Hey!” Roarke protested. “That was uncalled for.”

  “If they don't, I know some pixies who could probably manage it,” Arach mused.

  “Hey!”

  Chapter Six

  Trumpets sounded and everyone gave their attention to the entrance of the dining chamber. There, on a golden cart, was a towering cake decorated with a crown on top. The frosting was pure white with gold swirled over it in delicate lacey patterns and tiny fey globes swirled around the whole thing like choreographed fireflies. It was wheeled to the center of the spiral with great fanfare(and great patience) and presented to King Cian. Everyone cheered as he stood and cut the first slice for himself, the little lights dropping to hover around the bottom tier. Then the brownies pushing the cart brought forth a step stool so they could reach the top tiers and start cutting pieces of cake for everyone else.

  “High King?” I stopped him before he took his first bite.

  “Queen Vervain?” He looked up in surprise.

  “Would it be rude if I offered you a human tradition?”

  “No, that would be lovely,” his face changed to one of excitement.

  “On our birthdays,” I explained as I drew a tiny candle from my evening bag, “we place candles on our cakes, one for each year that we've lived and then an extra one as a hope for the future year. Since it wouldn't be possible to place so many candles on your cake, even as big as it is,” I grinned at the brownie putting a piece of cake in front of me and she giggled. “I thought maybe just the one to grow on, so you could make a wish.”

  “A wish?” The High King whispered. “You offer me a wish?”

  “It's probably not the same as what you're thinking,” I glanced at Arach and saw that he was regarding me with an intense expression. “After the candles are lit, the one who's celebrating a birthday gets to blow them out and make a wish. I'm not guaranteeing it will be granted, I'm just offering you the chance to make one.”

  “So you make a wish and just hope it gets fulfilled?” King Cian frowned. “That seems rather lazy.”

  “It's a wish, something to be granted not something to pursue,” I should have known it wouldn't be as easy as plopping a candle on his cake and lighting it. I had thought it would be cute to bring a human tradition to the Faerie Realm but I guess I should have run it by Arach first. Another glance at him showed that he was thinking the same thing. “There must be something the High King of Faerie still hopes for, something you can wish for. Hope is a thing that everyone should have, at least on their birthdays.”

  “What a ridiculous human pursuit,” Queen Aalish of course. “Just make a wish and expect someone else to grant it.”

  “I've always thought of birthday wishes as magic,” I ignored her. “Like a little spell you get to cast only once a year. The rules are that you can't tell anyone what you wished for, you must only wish silently in your head. Then the spell is cast and your wish will hopefully be granted.”

  “Now that sounds more interesting,” Queen Meara nodded and lifted a brow. “Birthday magic, I like that. It's a wonder that we hadn't thought of it first. I think I shall be wanting to celebrate my birthday with a candle cake, Cian.”

  “Of course, my love,” he stroked a hand down Meara's perfect pale cheek, his affection always so evident. “And I agree, this sounds much more fey when you explain it like that. I shall make my secret wish. Show me how it's done, Queen Verva
in.”

  There was a little more mumbling coming from Aalish's direction but it was silenced with a firm look from Meara. So I placed the candle in the center of King Cian's cake and lit it with a carefully blown stream of fire. Everyone got silent, focusing on the little flame.

  “I'm going to sing you a song,” I told him, feeling a little silly describing the birthday tradition. “And at then end of the song, I'll give you a nod. That's when you make your wish silently and when you have it focused in your head, you blow out the candle and the spell is done.”

  “Excellent,” King Cian looked up at me with gleaming eyes. “Please proceed.”

  I sang the birthday song, my voice sounding a little small in the middle of all those silent faeries, and the fey listened like it was the most beautiful thing they'd ever heard. That alone was a birthday miracle because singing was not one of my talents. Then I nodded to King Cian and he scrunched up his face, concentrating as any five-year-old would do, until he had his wish set. He blew out the candle and smiled radiantly. I began to clap and everyone else followed suit.

  “Happy Birthday, King Cian,” I said when the applause died down.

  “Thank you, Queen Vervain,” he looked younger with the mischievous glint of his secret wish in his eyes. “I shall remember this day for many years to come.”

  Right after those fateful words, a scream pierced the sounds of celebration and we all turned toward it. A woman came running through the doorway. She looked familiar and I finally realized it was because she was one of the cat-sidhe who had stormed out of the room with Liam.

  “King Liam is dead!” She wailed and the room burst into shocked murmurs.

  I gasped and turned to Roarke. He was staring at the woman with a horrified expression. He turned slowly and looked at me. I laid my hand on his shoulder sympathetically and I was about to give him a hug when the woman continued.