Angel Magic, page 14
part #2 of Sirangel Series
Silence stretched between us, punctuated by the repetitive crashing of waves far below. The sea’s rhythmic sounds were hypnotic, lulling me into a false sense of calm.
When I thought he’d dropped the topic, he said, “If I went into the water with you, I’d be an animal. We wouldn’t be able to share … things.”
“You’re right. I hadn’t really thought of that.”
I hadn’t thought any of this through. I hadn’t planned a thing since my eighteenth birthday. I’d imagined I’d finally be like all the other mermaids and find my place among the tribe. How very wrong I’d been. I’d been flailing ever since.
“I don’t think I could live that way. Close to you but unable to share any of the things that would bring us closer.”
I regretted I’d brought up any of it. He sounded sad, as if he’d come here to say goodbye instead of make love to me. I edged closer to him, turning my back on the crashing ocean below us, blocking his view of it.
“You’re more important to me than the ocean.” A ripple of shock echoed through me as I realized what I said was true. I wasn’t sure how it was possible to love someone as fiercely as I did Quinn when I’d shared so little time with him, and all of it under extreme duress. But I couldn’t deny what resonated within me with surety. “You and I are meant to be together. Whether we share our lives together on land or in the sea, we’ll be together. Fully connected.”
He exhaled heavily, and for the first time I paused to think about what it might be like for him to have lost Irving. He’d been his only family, the only person ever to care for him—before me.
Quinn reached for me, settling his hands along my bare waist. His touch was tentative, hesitant, nothing like what it’d been outside of Naomi’s back door.
I laced my hands around his back and pulled him all the way against me. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. I want to be with you.”
I watched as apprehension took its time to lift from where it had screened his eyes. As life danced in them again. As desire for me kindled once more.
His lips parted into a slow, sensual smile. With his dark hair tousled, his bare chest a stunning collection of sculpted muscle, his jeans slung low across his hips, he was perfectly roguish. My insides did a flip-flop and I forgot about the sea pounding the stone wall we stood on.
The abalone of his eyes sucked me further into a world inhabited only by him and me.
All the reasons why I’d decided to run at full tilt for more than an hour came flooding back to me.
I froze, staring. Where my fingers and palms connected with the skin of his back seared. My breathing quickened. My heart stammered. Every part of me very nearly ached with urgency.
As if we were already fully connected, we leaned our mouths toward each other at the same instant. When his lips crashed against mine, we picked up right where we’d left off. There was no slow build, no kindling of desire. His tongue was a hot poker against mine and I wanted every part of him.
Now.
His hands swept across my skin fast, too fast, as if he were trying to touch me everywhere at once. I tangled my fingers in his hair, pulling hard. I squeezed and trailed my fingers along every part of his hot skin, until I encountered rough, unyielding material.
I popped open the button of his jeans.
He growled and whipped my crop top over my head, flinging it heedlessly behind him. My breasts tightened in the cool mist and he pressed my chest flat against his. His nostrils flared as he breathed me in; his eyes rolled upward. Hands brushed slick skin, moist from the spray. He popped the button on my jean shorts open while kicking off his boots. Twenty seconds later, we were both fully naked—free.
My entire body pulsed in rhythm with my heart, urging me onward toward completion—toward a different kind of freedom. Perhaps toward a better understanding of myself through the reflection of a perfect mirror. Whatever it was, I wanted it. Yesterday.
Urgency permeated every one of Quinn’s movements, but he slowed when he lifted my naked body from the ground. With one arm as strong as a steel band, he pressed my stomach against his, making sure I felt every hard inch of him. With the other, he guided one of my legs to wrap around his waist. I hooked the other in the same way, wrapping my feet around him.
He stared into my eyes so intensely that I wondered if his gaze might be able to view my soul. He held it while he slowly lowered me to the ground, mindful of my wings. When my back touched the grass, he swept an arm up to cradle my head and bring it down softly.
I didn’t unhook my legs when he brought both hands to either side of my chest and lowered his mouth to mine and touched my lips tenderly, gingerly, as if I were a treasure he feared breaking. His tongue twisted languorously, as though we’d already been promised a lifetime together.
My heart pattered contentedly, not regretting a moment of suffering on land when my time had also delivered me this. Quinn. The man I could no longer do without. The man my heart now needed to survive.
He offered me every bit of himself and I took it, not turning away any of it. None of it could be too much; perhaps none of it would ever be enough.
“Are you ready for me, baby?” he whispered, his voice husky and deep. It took me a while to realize he’d said anything at all; his words seemed to take forever to reach me.
I smiled, wondering if my very heart tilted my lips for him. “I only just realized it,” I breathed, “but I’ve been looking for you always. Long before I met you.”
He nodded as if what I’d said made all the sense in the world instead of it being some impossibility uttered in a moment of passion. “I’ve been looking for you too.” His eyes glittered with tears—or perhaps the constantly rising mist made his eyes water. “Always.” His eyebrow furrowed with emotion.
The same unnamed emotion welled within me and I wondered if we were lost to the rest of the world forever. “I’m ready,” I whispered when what I’d really wanted to say was that I’d been ready for ages and ages. Aching for him. Striving to survive the emptiness until he was right here, in this moment, prepared to complete me.
With his eyes wide to take in mine, he gave me what I wanted. He linked us together as much as any woman and man could join.
The next breath I pulled in felt more nourishing than any other in my lifetime. It was as if I’d never really lived until that precise moment. As if I’d never experienced anything worth experiencing until I’d received this man’s love.
His abalone eyes swirled, and yes, his eyes definitely welled with tears, as did my own. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but if he felt anything like what I felt, I didn’t imagine he found the words to properly express what he wanted. He leaned his face down, so slowly, as if everything now were sacred. When he kissed me, I closed my eyes and kissed him back, willing everything I was feeling into that one kiss.
Then he went completely rigid and stilled.
I flashed my eyes open.
Panic surged within me even before I understood its cause.
My siren magic pulsed, just once, but it was enough to rock the cliff we lay on. A green-blue, the exact hue of the ocean water beneath us, enveloped the two of us in a cocoon of light, bright enough to overcome the morning sunshine.
The vision of Quinn above me faded, replaced by blinding ocean blue.
It shivered through my body, reaching every extremity in a flash.
The light seemed to pause at the extension of its outward stretching wave for several long seconds … before it collapsed inward, sucking into my body as if I were breathing it back in.
When it dissipated, and I could see Quinn’s face again, his eyes were empty, blank of the deep love he felt for me. Gone was everything that made Quinn who he was.
He convulsed atop me, his entire body shaking. I brought his chest fully against mine, slowly, carefully, as if now he were the one as fragile as thin glass. I rolled us until he was beneath me. With a gasp of pain, I separated our bodies and disconnected us.
But Quinn was already gone. I wailed toward the sky, the sun, the ocean on one infinite breath until I exhausted it. Then I snapped myself together and scanned the length of his beautiful naked body.
There was nothing visibly wrong with him, though spasms racked him without relief. He convulsed, though not enough for me to fear that he’d injure himself. I fought down panic as I scrambled through incoherent thoughts. What happened? Had I hurt him? Had my magic attacked him? What did I need to do to save him? Could I save him?
But there were no forthcoming answers. Just the ocean pounding the rock far below us.
18
I remained at Quinn’s side until the convulsing evolved into the occasional racking spasm and then eventually dissipated entirely. It might have taken ten minutes until he stopped shaking, his eyes rolling without aim in their sockets, his mouth open as if in shock, though it might have also been much less. However long it’d been, it felt like endless hours of watching the man I loved suffer while there was nothing I could do to alleviate his pain—pain that I’d somehow caused.
When he stopped trembling with the effect of whatever magic had pulsed through me, he went stone still. That scared me even more than the seizures. But he was breathing regularly, calmly, though he wouldn’t open his eyes or otherwise respond when I called his name or shook him. Whatever had claimed him had a firm hold on him and wasn’t letting go.
But what was it that had claimed him? I bit my lip as I pondered, nerves sweeping across my bare skin like a chilling breeze. The ocean-blue flash of magic had emanated from me, I was almost certain of that. Which meant my magic had attacked Quinn. But why? Why would part of me hurt the man I was connected to in a way that transcended thought? He and I were bonded at some sort of instinctual level, which should mean that my own magic—my siren magic—shouldn’t have attacked him. He was as much a part of me now as my left foot. And my magic should have damn well known that.
I’d decided what I needed to do even while he was in the throes of my siren magic. I just really didn’t want to do it. But there was nothing else I could do that would be certain to help him.
Mulunu. She was my best bet. The wily old sea witch always knew what to do in every situation. And if she didn’t understand what was happening, she’d find the way to get to the bottom of things, and then she’d fix them with her magic.
But to get to Mulunu, I’d have to abandon Quinn here, at the top of a cliff in the middle of nowhere. I didn’t even have any good idea of what part of the world we were in. Naomi hadn’t been kind enough to say when she kidnapped us.
No houses or settlements dotted the area as far as I could see. I had no sense of people in the area. The spot was quiet save for the repeated roar of the sea crashing into the rock below, and birds squawking in the distance. Quinn would be safe here until my return. He’d have to be.
But what if birds pecked at him while I was gone? What if some wild animal discovered him so vulnerable? Or worse, what if Antonio Dimorelli somehow found him? Or any of the other power-greedy vampires or shifters that labeled themselves members of the Voice? They’d already proven that they could find us when we didn’t think it possible.
Abandoning Quinn here was far from safe. But I feared doing nothing to break the hold my magic had on him was more dangerous. His breathing was steady, but I could sense his unease, as if it were a scent permeating his skin. He was struggling to resist whatever my siren magic was trying to do to him. I didn’t know if he might die if I didn’t intervene, but I had the nagging feeling it was possible, and I couldn’t shake it.
I had to choose between a bad option and one far worse.
My mind made up, I moved quickly. Now that I knew I was going to leave him, the sooner I left, the sooner I’d return to guarantee his safety. I dressed him, more to protect him from the birds than to conceal his beautiful nudity. I even stuffed his feet into his boots before bending over him to press a few desperate kisses to his face.
“I’m going to have to leave you for a little while,” I murmured, hovering my lips above his. He groaned in complaint, his face clenching as if he were caught in the throes of a terrible fever. “Q!” I shook him gently, but he didn’t rouse. “Q?” I asked more softly.
Nothing. His face had settled back into placid lines. His head lolled when I shook him. He wasn’t waking up, but apparently he’d registered what I said—somewhere in his consciousness.
“I don’t want to leave you, but I have to go get help. I think my siren magic did something bad to you. I’m going into the water to find Mulunu. She’ll know what to do. Just as soon as I find her, I’m coming back to you, I promise. I won’t be long. You should be safe here while I’m away.”
Though I spotted nothing beyond the wild open fields and the ocean and the many birds that flew over the water, little more than dark specks this far away, I grimaced and hunched my shoulders. Leaving him unprotected like this wasn’t good.
I wished I could take him with me into the water, but the Kunu Clan lived deep beneath the ocean, where no land creature could reach. He wouldn’t survive the journey, and he’d slow me down if I had to stop every few strokes to share my breath with him.
Too bad there wasn’t a way to use my magic to protect him while I was gone. Surely an angel such as Raziel would possess some sort of protective power, and it was likely I’d inherited some of his ability. But what if I tried to protect Quinn with my angel magic and he reacted to it like he had to my siren magic? Maybe I’d try to place a shield of my angel magic around him only to kill him on the spot…
I pressed a determined kiss to his lips and rose to my feet. I gathered my discarded clothing and draped my shirt and shorts in a tent over his face. “I promise I’ll be back soon,” I whispered, but he didn’t react at all. His body lay lifeless upon the grass, as if we hadn’t shared moments so full of life and passion only minutes before.
I had to force my gaze away from him, but once I did, I moved quickly. Time was ticking away, and it wasn’t in our favor. I ran toward the edge of the cliff and dove off, narrowing my body into a straight line, hands pointed in front of me, wings pressed tightly against my back. It was a risk to dive with them, but there was no other quick way to get down to the water—oh. Crap. Maybe I could have flown toward the water…? Now that I’d activated some of my angel magic, I could probably do more with my wings than hover a few feet.
Too late now. I pressed my wings firmly against my back and hoped the impact wouldn’t tear them. The drop was greater than I’d realized. It had to be at least fifty feet. As a siren, I had the innate ability to sense the topography of the landscape beneath the water. I aimed for a large gap between outcrops of rock, tucked my face tightly between my outstretched arms, and prayed I hadn’t miscalculated.
I slammed against the surface of the water, slicing through it. Every point of contact between my flesh and the water stung as if I’d been slapped by a furious giant. But the dive hadn’t otherwise hurt me or my wings, and I managed to skim several feet beneath the water before the momentum of my dive petered out.
With a flash of light the same color as the ocean water, a full-body shiver ran across me, taking with it my wings and leaving behind my tail. Ah. For the first time in months, I felt normal. I was back to looking like a merwoman, nothing more and nothing less. I took a few moments to absorb the ease of being in a form I was used to and knew how to use. The water soaked into my skin, appeasing the itching sensation that had afflicted it since I’d been deprived of contact with the water. I breathed as easily as I’d breathed air on land. I would have been at perfect ease … if not for the predicament I’d left Quinn in.
I connected with the vast mass of water that surrounded me. Naomi had brought Quinn and me somewhere along the coastline of Western Europe, though I wasn’t sure exactly where. Those designations didn’t mean as much to merpeople as they did to land people; however, I was already certain I’d be able to remember how to get back to Quinn. His energy called to me like a pinging beacon. The moment of joining that had afflicted him so terribly had also forged a deeper connection between us. I sensed his heart beating as if it beat in conjunction with my own.
His heart would deliver me back to him.
I sensed my former home: off to the east, deep in the Pacific Ocean between Asia and North America. I took off immediately, swimming at first, enjoying the way my siren body moved so smoothly in the water. But I couldn’t swim to the home of the Kunu Clan. It was too far away, and I couldn’t leave Quinn that long.
I waited until my siren magic was replenished by the water; then I reached for the ability I’d had since I was a child. Every merperson of our tribe could use their magic to travel great distances at great speed, launching through the water like a ripple of light that hardly disturbed its surroundings. The force of my magic built within my body until it was so strong that it propelled me forward, streaking through the water, swerving around obstacles instinctively, faster than my mind could process the action. I knew I was no more than a blur of light at the speed I was moving, but even so, it’d take me several hours to reach Mulunu.
I held onto the vision of home and hoped I’d be quick enough. Quinn was depending on me … and I couldn’t lose him.
The moment the Kunu Clan became aware of my presence, like a tsunami of magic, an energy wave of blue light barreled through the water and slammed into me full force, sucking the air from me for a few moments before the magic passed through me.
I knew how things worked. It was a warning powerful enough to discourage anyone not a part of the tribe from coming closer. Though our clan hadn’t been at war since Mulunu became its leader centuries ago, its warriors continued to train, and several of the warriors kept watch over the tribe at all times. Their warning was meant to encourage me to turn around.
