More Than Mortal, page 5
“She has lots of boyfriends then?” Teague kept his hands under the table, so they would not see the tiny flames now dancing in his palms. He reached for his control, but it was increasingly difficult to find in the smoky haze that now filled his thoughts.
Both women looked at each other and burst into laughter, earning themselves a sharp look.
Teague saw absolutely nothing humorous in the current situation. “Did I say something funny?”
“Ceri? A boyfriend? Um, no.” The blonde wiped at her eyes.
“Why not? Is she into chicks or something?” Crowe chimed in with equal parts of interest and disappointment.
“No,” Jenn denied. “At least, we don’t think so. She’s just different, you know?”
Different.
Yes, Ceri was different, but clearly, these women had no idea just how different. They saw only the superficial, but Teague had felt it on a plane completely beyond their comprehension. His frustration level was running dangerously high. The invisible flames were licking at his legs now, too, desperately wanting to come out and play.
“Call her,” Teague commanded, infusing some of his power into the words.
“We can’t,” Jenn mumbled, frowning.
Teague tried to curb the force powering the coercion, but patience was not his strong suit. It took serious effort to keep his voice relatively calm when it felt as if flames were licking up the inside of his throat.
“Why not?”
The blonde lifted her shoulders in a lazy shrug. “Ceri doesn’t have a cell phone.”
Teague blinked, incredulous. What kind of college student didn’t have a cell phone? Then again, he didn’t have one either, did he? Personal electronics had a way of malfunctioning around him. If she was what he suspected she was, then they probably didn’t work for her either. All the more reason to find her as quickly as possible.
“Then, take me to her.”
“We can’t.”
“Why not?”
“We already told you, we don’t know where she lives.”
They’d been serious about that? He’d thought that was just some kind of preprogrammed, protective response earlier, intended to provide some measure of safety for their friend. But, now that these girls were under his full power, they weren’t capable of lying outright.
“Hey, is it getting really hot in here or what?” one of them asked.
He wasn’t sure who had spoken at that point. Red haze obscured his vision, and his body heat ramped up another few notches. A sheen of perspiration covered the skin on those around him. It was only with tremendous effort that he did not simply lay waste to all of them out of sheer frustration. He considered doing so, but it would result in too many complications that he had neither the time nor the inclination to deal with at that moment.
“You must have some way to contact her.”
He received blank looks in response and wondered, not for the first time, if there was an inversely proportionate ratio between higher brain function and sexual arousal. When one went up, the other seemed to plummet. Normally, he preferred their arousal to their rudimentary intellect, but what he really needed now was for them to think, not float in their post-climax haze.
“How did you arrange this evening’s plans, for instance?” Teague prompted.
“Oh!” Jenn said, realization dawning. “She’s got an office in the Carnegie building. She’s a research assistant for Professor Kassianedes. If she’s not there, we can usually find her hanging around the fountains in the south quad. But she won’t be back on campus till Monday. We never see her on the weekends.”
Teague stood, sensing that he wasn’t going to get anything more out of them. Hopefully Christophe and Tristan would have more to offer. It was only Friday night. He had no intention of waiting around and doing nothing until Monday.
“Thank you, ladies. Here, have one on me.” He took each woman’s hand and pressed a kiss to their knuckles, sending them into instant orgasms.
Edan
“This is where you live?” Edan looked up in disbelief at the run-down high-rise that probably should have been condemned a decade earlier. He revised that opinion when she led him to the far side of the building and saw the sign, which confirmed that it had in fact already been awarded that dubious honor. “Are you kidding?”
She tilted her head and looked up at him, her blue-green eyes almost silvery in the moonlight. “It’s not really condemned,” she said in that gentle, quiet way of hers. “Just abandoned. I put that sign up there.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Why would you do that?”
“It keeps them away.”
“Who?”
“Everyone.”
She sighed, and Edan felt a subtle wave of sorrow wash over him.
“Not everything abandoned is useless, Edan. People are too quick to cast things aside when they are no longer the latest, greatest thing. They fail to look beyond the surface and see that there is still value, still beauty there. It’s easier to walk away.”
Edan felt an ache deep in his chest, sensing Ceri wasn’t just talking about the decrepit building. Before he could ask, she tugged on his hand once again and led him further around the back of the building. Tenacious weeds and small saplings poked stubbornly through the cracks of what had once been a parking lot.
She crawled in through some loose boards, managing to make it look graceful. He tried to ignore her amusement when he was forced to pry away several more planks to accommodate his much larger frame, making sure to reposition everything afterward from the inside.
It was dark within, which was probably a good thing. The only light came from the nearly full moon shining through the grimy windows, and as his eyes adjusted, it looked exactly as he would have expected. Dirt and debris cluttered the ground floor, which appeared as though it might have been a nice lobby at some point.
Edan moved across the floor with caution, his footsteps loud in the stillness. Ceri made no sound whatsoever.
Ceri drew to a sudden halt. Edan hadn’t expected her to do so and ended up plowing into her, effectively pinning her up against the wall. A slight feminine grunt met his ears as the accidental collision forced the air out of her lungs. Registering that took a few seconds, however, because initially, he was capable only of processing the feel of her soft, full curves pressed against him. For the span of several heartbeats, his entire body felt as though it had been filled with helium—light and airy. Free.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, taking a step back. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” she assured him after refilling her lungs with air. “I should have warned you.”
Edan tried to ignore the pointed stares of several pairs of beady eyes peeking out from what he assumed were pieces of old furniture left behind to rot with the rest of the place. “Are those ... rats?”
“Among other things,” she said casually. “They’re probably hungry. Sorry, guys,” she softly called out to the shadows. “I didn’t get a chance to stop for food tonight.”
She swung open the door to the stairwell and tugged at his hand, but Edan was frozen to the spot.
“You feed them?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
Edan stared at her in disbelief.
“Come on,” she said, one corner of her mouth tilting up in amusement. “You’d better stay close.”
Pride made him close the mouth he knew was hanging open as he ascended behind her. Ceri moved gracefully, appearing to almost float up the stairs. Edan refused to look at her feet for fear that it might not be an illusion.
Their upward progress continued for at least ten flights before she finally stopped again. He’d thought he was in good shape, but he was breathing heavy by the time they reached the top. Ceri seemed unaffected.
“I’ve never had a guest before,” she told him almost apologetically, standing in front of a door.
Edan had the sense that he was being granted a special gift. “Then, I am honored to be your first.”
She nodded, but he could tell she was a little nervous.
She opened the door. “Welcome, Edan.”
Edan sucked in a breath. He blinked once and then twice, certain that his eyes were playing tricks on him.
The entire floor was one massive, open concept space. The windows along the outside walls were either open or nonexistent—he couldn’t tell which—allowing fresh air to flow and circulate freely throughout, blowing the gossamer-like sheers hung about. Moonlight streamed in from every side, and when he looked up, one of the largest skylights he’d ever seen.
Unlike the rest of the building, it was clean and neat and in good repair.
The color scheme was breathtaking—soft shades of white, gray, pastel blue, and aqua. Crystals hung everywhere, capturing the moonlight. Tranquility fountains flowed in each of the four corners.
There was next to nothing in the way of furniture though. A single mattress lay on the floor, covered with a downy white comforter. Natural wood crates held neatly folded stacks of clothes. Occasional hanging baskets suspended from support beams held fresh fruit and packages bearing the logo of a local organic food store.
Ceri glided around, lighting a few candles. There were no lamps, as far as he could see. In fact, there seemed to be nothing electric at all. No television, no stereo, no stove.
What there was in great abundance were books. Stacks and stacks of them everywhere. Some appeared so old that they were in danger of disintegrating if he looked at them too intently.
“I’m afraid I don’t have much to offer you in terms of food,” she said apologetically. “There are several take-out places within a few blocks though. We could pick something up if you’re hungry.”
Edan’s gaze found her several yards away. What once had been solid walls separating suites and/or rooms were now nothing more than support beams, giving the whole space the look and feel of an ancient temple. Ceri stood partially hidden behind one of these now, intently peeking out at him.
“You don’t have to feed me,” he told her. “And I see what you were talking about. This is incredible!”
“Yes?” she asked, taking a tentative step out from the column. “Do you like it?”
“Absolutely. You really live here?”
“Yes.”
“No wonder you keep it to yourself. It’s like a secret paradise.”
Ceri offered a brilliant smile, pleased with his assessment. He wasn’t blowing smoke, either. The place was like a private paradise, an oasis of natural beauty where it was least expected.
Kind of like her, he realized.
Ceri was full of pleasant surprises. The more he discovered, the more he liked.
“What do you do when it rains?” he wondered aloud.
“The rain doesn’t make it inside the windows,” she told him matter-of-factly. “The air currents surrounding the building prevent it.”
“Even during hurricanes?”
She didn’t answer.
Edan walked over to one of the stacks of books, and read the title of the one perched on top. “Highland Myths and Traditions: A Compilation?”
Ceri blushed and lowered her eyes, nodding. He looked at some of the others—Druid Magyck, Understanding the Ancient Greeks, Achieving Enlightenment Through the Elements, Immortals Among Us.
“If you hadn’t told me what your major was, I’d be worried,” he joked.
“Do I scare you, Edan?” Her voice was much closer than it had been.
He spun around to find her behind him, looking up at him with those big, liquid eyes. She held out an orange in offering.
“No,” he answered honestly, accepting the fruit.
If anyone else lived in a place like this, read stuff like this, yeah, he’d be the first one to question their sanity. But Ceri? It fit. It all fit. This was her world. This was where things made sense to her, and oddly enough, he was perfectly okay with that.
“How about you, Ceri? Are you afraid?”
“A little,” she admitted.
“I won’t hurt you.”
Her lips curled slightly at the corners, but it was a sad smile that tugged at something deep in his chest. “It’s not me I’m afraid for, Edan.”
Ceri
“You’re afraid for me?” Edan asked, his expression one of surprise.
Ceri looked away, embarrassed beneath the intensity of Edan’s gaze. She shrugged before wrapping her arms across her waist in a protective, self-comforting embrace. Her concerns sounded silly when spoken aloud. Edan was, after all, clearly able-bodied, strong, brave, intelligent, resourceful ...
She paused, her train of thought momentarily derailed by Edan’s impressive list of attributes.
“Why are you afraid for me, Ceri?” he prompted.
She bit her bottom lip and shrugged again. How could she explain the overwhelming cold and dread she’d felt at the hands of those men in the club? The feelings of utter helplessness and despair? As glad as she was to have Edan by her side, she didn’t want to subject him—or anyone else for that matter—to that.
Though it was possible that her worries were unfounded. Edan had been close to them, and for whatever reason, he hadn’t had the same awful reaction she had. In fact, no one else had. Just her. And those ... men, for lack of a better word, hadn’t challenged him. They’d backed off quickly. She might have been pretty out of it at the time, but she remembered that much.
Granted, Edan could be pretty intimidating. With his muscular physique, powerful aura, and intense glare, he radiated strength and purpose.
In fact, she should probably be more worried than she was. He could overpower her in a heartbeat, and no one but the rats would know or sadly, care. Yet, strangely enough, she was very much at peace with his presence.
Perhaps she could rationalize her irrational lack of fear because of his heritage and her obsession with mythology. She did spend an inordinate amount of time with her nose buried in musty, old books, romanticizing the ancient legends of the Highlanders and their unsurpassed honor and bravery. It was only natural she would be drawn to him, right?
Or maybe there was more to it than that. Deep down, she felt as if she’d finally connected with another human being on a level she’d hardly dared to hope for. Feeling safe and appreciating his chivalry was one thing, but this instant and inexplicable connection was something else entirely.
She shook those thoughts away before they could take root. There was no sense in making it out to be more than it was. If she let herself hope, she would be that much more disappointed when she turned out to be wrong.
She chanced a look at him again. He was watching patiently, awaiting an answer.
Unable to articulate her thoughts in a way that didn’t make her sound delusional, she asked one of her own. “Edan, did you notice anything unusual in the club tonight?”
“You mean, besides you?” He smiled patiently as his large hands peeled the orange she’d given him. He split it in half, handing one piece to her and making short work of eating the other.
She felt the heat rush to her cheeks. Edan crossed substantial arms over an equally substantial chest, muscles rippling in a lovely, mesmerizing harmony beneath the Orgasmic polo. No wonder he had held her so easily.
“Yes, besides me. What about those men you rescued me from?”
His grin widened, unknowingly making her heart beat faster. “Rescued you? I have to tell you, Ceri, you are really good for my ego.”
Either Edan was incredibly modest or he was deftly avoiding answering her question—a tactic she had employed herself only moments earlier. He didn’t strike her as the dishonest type, but perhaps he, too, had sensed something unusual and was reluctant to say so. She didn’t blame him. She wasn’t particularly eager to share the fact that those guys reminded her of gruesome, mythical, soul-stealing monsters either.
“They didn’t seem strange to you then?”
“Strange? Sure. But it’s a college campus. Strange isn’t exactly uncommon. They were just a couple of emo punks, looking for attention.” He shrugged unconvincingly. “I’ve seen enough like them.”
“You have?”
“Yeah. They occasionally come in the club. We usually don’t have a problem with them though. They hang out for a while, keep mostly to themselves, and then leave.”
“But you’ve never had to, uh, get involved?” Ceri couldn’t bring herself to ask if any other females had swooned in response or been otherwise incapacitated as she had.
“No. At least, not on my watch.”
Ceri frowned. She knew she was more sensitive than most people, but this had felt different. It was bad enough to think that she’d overreacted so strongly to a common occurrence, but to think she had somehow been singled out sent a series of shivers rippling down her spine.
“We have been waiting a long time for someone like you.” The first guy’s words echoed in her head.
At the time, she’d taken it as a lame pick-up line, but what if he’d really meant what he said? What if he and his friends really had been waiting for her—or someone like her, whatever that meant—specifically?
“So,” she said slowly, “when you saw them before, did they appear to be looking for something? Waiting for someone?”
Edan considered it. She liked that he hadn’t immediately written her off.
“Yeah, I suppose. Like ninety percent of the other guys that come in there, hoping for a hook-up. Ceri, what’s going on?”
She pulled her arms more tightly across her chest. Dare she tell him what she had felt and risk him walking away, convinced she was crazy?
Here, in the safety of her sanctuary, with Edan’s comforting presence, her theory sounded like the overactive imagination of a child who lived more in books than in reality. Perhaps she did spend too many hours immersed in myths and legends, reading too many stories of immortals, lost princes and princesses, true and tragic love, and detestable villains. It didn’t matter that those stories made sense to her, oftentimes more than the real world did.
