The recent years had been hell. Without Legna's calming influence, he'd suffered and screamed and blistered. He'd waited until he knew he would be alone, then gone to a cavern he had found a few miles away. The entire cavern was burnt and blackened from the release he had found. He'd scorched everything. Blasts, explosions, and streams of flame-his body covered in sweat, soot, and smoke, his power igniting until he exhausted himself beyond consciousness. He'd wake shortly after because he was energy, and his body easily regenerated. Then he would return to the Hall to try to study, or he would lose himself in sleep.

And then, last Beltane, he'd dreamed of her. He had lain in the cavern, exhausted and gasping for consciousness, and he'd dreamed of her. Her fire and her fight, her passion marking him for all time, the blaze between them more than anything he could create, blissful beyond anything he could imagine. He had awakened that time and every time after screaming with need, his body aching, heavy, and hard until he was in unfathomable pain. As empty as she had felt, so had he felt unfulfilled.

And then...

Lost.

He found her one second, and the next she was lost. Kestra saw what he had seen; saw the death she had met. The aftermath was a conflagration of rage and blind devastation. But he had rescued her. He had found a way. The path through hell. A walk through the defection from all he believed in, all he held most precious in morals and love and his very soul.

Again, lost. Control lost, friends lost, respect lost. Love and trust lost perhaps beyond repair. And as Samhain loomed so close, time was lost as he desperately tried to bring her into his world as smoothly as he could. As he tried to know her and let her know him. Their encounter in the parlor hadn't even begun to satisfy him, to satisfy her. The physical was an impulse; the emotional was an essential. It was her soul and her heart that he needed to soothe the beast of Fire inside him. It was her feminine power, her back-burn that would stop him in his path and forever keep him from causing harm or uncontrollable destruction. The passion of their bodies was just a symbolic explosion of their symbiosis, perhaps one day of their love, and definitely an outlet for the Fire within them both. One that would cause no harm to them or to others when their symbiotic relationship clicked into perfect position.

Kestra struggled to her feet, aware he was following her every movement, but he didn't touch her, knowing she was overwhelmed again and needed to just breathe and think. She sat on the bed and took deep breaths, not looking at him but feeling him hovering at the foot of the bed watching her, probably reading her mind. It was such a vast responsibility! She would be responsible for the sanity of a King, the sanity of a being of such enormous power, a power meant to be contained by her parasitic presence.

But as frightening as that was, she wasn't afraid of facing it. She felt inside herself that place of equal measure that was growing. She suddenly understood that she had scanned the power of an Ancient and powerful being, had taken him by surprise even. She'd shown him a path he'd been seeking for for centuries. In one heartbeat she'd started him in the direction of power that even his vast wisdom had been unable to find.

Her body was growing stronger. She'd be able to heal rapidly, she'd been told. Yes, this she was more than capable of handling. She worshipped strength, embraced the undiscovered thrill of the future she'd have as a being of power and the responsibilities that came with it.

She looked at Noah, understanding that helping him abate his Fire was going to be her top priority. It would mean passion beyond her wildest imaginings. This made her heart race, but there was no fear. There was hunger. No. Starvation. She was thirty-two years old. In all that time, there had been nothing but a frigid, gray existence where her body only felt alive flying in the face of danger.

But here lay a potential feast of feeling, spread before her in the form of a beautiful man, a magnificent lover, and a good soul. He would set her body to burn in a thousand ways, and she could see it in his quickly clouding eyes. Noah was in her mind, so he knew her thoughts. His hand was wrapped around a post at the foot of the bed, his knuckles white and lips pressed with restraint. Honor. Nobility at its most extreme.

Find the fear, Kestra, she thought to herself. What should you be afraid of? Where is the danger? Don't walk in without knowing the danger.

She was afraid she couldn't love him as he deserved. She was terrified of the danger that would cause to herself and others. He'd proved her body wasn't frigid. Could he do the same for her unpracticed, unwilling heart?

Noah came around the bed, walked to her, and took her chin between his fingers. He tilted her face up until their eyes met. "In this one thing, I ask you to trust me. I can show you the way. You think you are incapable of loving, but you also treat yourself as if you had no life before you were eighteen. You have pushed away the love of your parents, your friends, and your remaining family. But it was once there, Kes. You did love."

"And they suffered for it. I suffered for it," she said icily. "I will not love only to lose. What if-"

"No." He cut her off instantly. "Do not go to that place. You do not belong there. You never second-guess, never doubt. You only prepare, be safe, practice, learn, and grow in skills. These have been your precepts for all of your adult life. You chose not to live in fear in all things save love. It is time you apply those principles to that which frightens you the most. You look into your heart, see its needs, see its penchants toward me, and all you see is danger." He leaned closer to her, his sensual mouth smiling slightly as it hovered close to hers. "Jump, Kes. Just jump off and trust all your safety systems to work. Jump, throw your arms out, and feel the rush. It is incredible, and it is worth every second of it."

Chapter 14.

"Now, the trick with Demons," Cygnus lectured, as if he were a professor at Cambridge, "is to know their element. The ideal is to catch them in the daytime, when they are sleeping, but that way is very painful."

The others chuckled, except Cygnus's brother. Quinton was not amused. He had to grudgingly admit that Cygnus was really good at stalking Nightwalkers. They each now had aspects of Mistral and Shadowdweller in addition to their Vampire skills. They were confident they could take down a few of the lesser Demons. An adult. The women were not powerful and not worth it, so it had to be males.

"However, there is an advantage we mustn't overlook. Samhain." Cygnus grinned. "It's tomorrow. I have something good planned for tomorrow, but tonight is pretty powerful in itself and, well...let's just say there are going to be a lot of horny Demons out there. Catch one while it is rutting, and he will never have a chance. Capturing the power of a Demon for ourselves, no Summoning necessary." He chuckled with the others. "The trick is, what element to choose?"

"We need no telepathy or healing."

"Do not rule out Mind and Body. Mind Demons teleport and Body Demons have astral projection powers as well. For both reasons, however, it would risk exposing us if they got the opportunity to warn others. I would say a Water Demon. Or Wind. Both have weather abilities. Shape-changing to mist or wind, that would be very advantageous. Earth Demons are dangerous even at an early age."

"No Fire?"

"Fire," Cygnus mused. He made a show of tapping his chin in thought, and then he gave an evil grin. "That is what Samhain will be saved for. There is only one male Fire Demon. The Demon King. It would be the best time. He will be alone. The castle will be abandoned to the holiday after festivities. I figure if we get Water and Wind tonight, he will not be able to fight both with his Fire."

"It would be wise to wait. To practice untried abilities," Quinton argued. "There is time for Beltane."

"Perhaps. We shall see what happens tonight. I have other ideas as well. We will have a glorious time either way. Follow me, I think I see our first candidate."

They fell into the shadows behind an unsuspecting young Demon male.

Noah kissed her then, feeling their hearts beating the same wild rhythm. His mouth stroked against her softer one, gently tasting her lips, little sips of that natural sweetness that he simply couldn't figure out the source of. He had to believe it was just Kes, only Kes. His Kes.

"My Kes," they said together, against each other's mouths. Noah smiled just as she reached to kiss him a little deeper, and she laughed into his mouth just before their tongues touched.

"Do I really taste like sugar?" she asked between breaths and kisses.

"Find out for yourself," he encouraged her, the invitation somehow sounding sexy and forbidden. She pulled back, looking at him curiously, taking a moment to think. He reached to stroke a lone finger through her bangs, completely under the spell of watching her think about so many things, feeling her struggle with small surges of caution and apprehension.

He met her eyes with purpose, lowering to touch her mouth, sweeping his tongue playfully across her lower lip. He made an appreciative sound, licking her taste off his lips, his eyes gleaming with a smoky dare.

Kestra reached for the back of his head, securing him by lacing his hair between her nestling fingers. She held his eyes, searched them for a moment, and then he felt her flickering through his senses, felt her adjust for a moment to being behind his eyes, focusing on herself and how he saw her to be.

"You are beautiful," they said, her merge into his thoughts so perfect every time that she kept mistaking his impulses to speak for her own.

Noah left his eyes open, wanting her to see and feel everything he could provide, wanting her to know what a blessing it was for him to have her. He took her mouth gently, ignoring the inviting parting of her lips for a moment so she could pay attention to the full effect. He inhaled slowly and deeply, catching her scent, bringing it deep into his lungs where it stirred up sensory memory of over a hundred cotton candy dreams. They made an aching sound of pleasure as just these small traces of data sent stabs of heat streaking like hundreds of little fireballs down through his body.

When he finally nudged his way into her mouth, sweeping her taste onto his tongue, she could feel his heartbeat quickening, could feel his arousal as if it were her own, so unbelievably heavy, a straining need for her, for even the slightest detail of her. She did taste like sugar. At least she did to him. And she was shocked to find it was the truth, although she hadn't truly doubted him. His senses were so different than hers, so much sharper, so focused and powerful. She could hear her own heartbeat through his ears; she could smell the teasing flirtation of her own excitement.

Kestra gasped, jerking back away and into her own mind, her eyes wide with wonder and her cheeks stained with a ridiculous blush.

"I d-didn't realize..." she stuttered softly, pressing her hands to her face. "Your senses are so...so strong." She laughed. "I have the strangest and most desperate urge to take a shower."

"You do not require one," he said. "But I am ever the gracious host."

He reached for her hand and jerked her up from the bed and against his body. He secured her to himself with a tight arm around her waist, fitting her to every detail of his incredibly healthy form. His gray and green eyes were dark and knowing with his blatant desire for her. She was mesmerized and couldn't look away. He kept her feet barely touching the floor, moved, leading her backward across the room, again that debilitating tango that destroyed her equilibrium and every other thought that had nothing to do with him. He drew her entire focus, body and soul, making her feel his body, his eyes showing her his soul.

Forever.

She saw it. Maybe she heard it. But most of all she felt it. She felt his certainty of it, and knew it was the truth. He would never tire of her, he'd never be able to hurt her, he couldn't betray her and could protect them both from all the dangers she could imagine and even those she hadn't yet come to know. It wasn't an absolute. Life and death were absolutes in and of themselves, and no one could change what would be.

Except he had defied that. He'd cheated death for her. Who else would ever give her such a gift? Who else would ever need her so much? Need but release when she required a separate peace. Argue but reason. Communicate though speechless.

They entered the bathroom, gaslights flaring brightly to life though he touched no switches. Candles flamed on their wicks, then lowered to muted softness. He moved her, his masculine body rippling with power and grace against her with each step. He smelled so good that she leaned in to him to breathe the smoky scent of his essence. He stopped their progress, simply feeling the sensations running over him as she did this, knowing she took pleasure in it just as he took delight in the fragrance of her.

"You showered, but you still smell like me," she noted on a whisper under his ear.

"I could not possibly wash you away even with a thousand showers, baby," he said, his intensity giving her a delightful shiver. "You are a part of me now."

"Why is it when you call me 'baby' I don't want to punch you out like I usually do when men think they can call me that?"

"Mmm, I have an answer for that, but I will keep my counsel on it for a little while longer." She lifted her head and narrowed her ice blue eyes on him. He covered the glare with a hand, making her laugh. "No fair reading my thoughts. Not about something I have just deemed semiprivate. You have no scruples."

"I confess I do not. Well, I do have the important ones." She watched as he reached into the shower stall behind her and turned on the taps. Steaming water streamed into the huge cubicle from all sides. "I just believe that if you have a resource, it should be utilized."

"You may revise your opinion when you are in a roomful of telepaths and empaths." He tested the temperature of the water with his fingertips. When it met his satisfaction, he looked into her eyes.

Kestra felt her breath clogging in her throat when she read the blatant craving in his look. Her hands came to his biceps reflexively, clinging to him as she waited with a pounding heart for his next move. He made it, stepping back from her, though his eyes never left her face and body as he watched steam tumble from the shower, casting opaque clouds around her.

"Undress for me, Kestra," he instructed her in a low, male command, his voice rumbling with sheer sensuality of purpose.

Kestra leaned back against the glass of the shower for a breathless minute, her heart throbbing painfully in her breast. Slowly, she reached for the hem of the red velvet dress.

"No. The other way, Kes," he huskily scolded her, his eyes flickering like jade gems with their intensity.

She understood. The neckline of the dress was such that she could easily step out of it. She reached for her shoulders, slipping the dress down. She had a natural sensuality that made every movement sexy and riveting. She felt it within herself, but now, under the fixed hunger of his gaze, it became amplified. Her gymnast's body always stood posed in a perfect curve of the spine and thrown-back shoulders, but her desire to be tempting to him added a slink to her backbone and a tilting curve to the pitch of her shoulders. She wriggled her arms out of the sleeves of the brief dress, then slowly peeled the top down.

Noah watched with total possession, welcoming the instant need gripping and clawing its way through him this time. He remembered the bra he had chosen earlier, a demicup of black and scarlet jacquard satin, the straps thin and black and doing so little to contain so much soft, enticing flesh. She hooked her thumbs in the dress and slowly worked it down her body, revealing the bra and all the lush beauty of her skin and curves. Noah's breath left him in a violent decompression of air. She was more beautiful than he could bear. Her skin was so perfect, her face, hair, and body all so flawless and so unbelievably tempting. Perhaps he was blinded by prejudice, but if it were so, then he welcomed his ignorance with open arms and a body she had turned to steel with longing. He wanted to learn every inch of her, he thought as she slid the dress past the curve of her waist and on to the swells of her hips.

Kestra watched Noah's hands curl into rock-solid fists, his stance becoming visibly more rigid, his jaw tightening perceptibly. A smile of feminine satisfaction blossomed in her mind as she watched him. She purposely shifted her legs, sliding one thigh against the other, causing a soft undulation of her hips just as she pushed the dress farther down. She tilted her head down so she was looking at him with blue flames in her eyes, staring hard at him through her lashes. She looked predatory, aroused, as if she knew exactly what she wanted, and it was no illusion. She released the dress and it fell to her ankles. She took a single step out to the side, widening her stance. She listened. She watched.

Noah was rooted in a web of his own making. He watched as she flared into erotic life, as she turned his own game against him with painfully artful ease. She slid her hands up her hips, palms spreading out over her belly as if she were touching herself as she would want him to touch her. She turned wickedly meaningful eyes on him as her hands slid up over her ribs, then her breasts. Noah's entire psyche screamed out with voracious need. He had to forcefully drag in his next breath, though it did nothing to oxygenate blood that was pooling in one specific place on his body. He felt as though he were hard from head to toe. His clothes were strangling him. She purposely looked below his belt, smiling a sexy little smile of satisfaction as she flicked open the front catch of her bra and peeled it back from her skin. Her gorgeous breasts and their darkly colored nipples were thrust forward as she shrugged her shoulders back and allowed the bra to glide easily from her arms.

Kestra hooked her thumbs into the tiny fabric edges of her panties, but this time she didn't play him as she removed them with a sexy little slide down her legs. Her eyes were still on him, the hunger making him pulse with painful need, which pumped up in intensity with every step she took toward him. She crossed to him in no time at all, because he hadn't gone far, and she pressed her naked body to his clothed one.

"Kiss me," she demanded on a hot, hoarse breath.

He did. With all the fire and desire and want raging through his entire being. She slid tighter and tighter against him, making him groan as he felt the heat of her skin through his clothes, the curves of her body rubbing sensually against him. Her hands reached for his, and she guided his palm to her breast, moaning into his mouth with relief and pleasure as he cupped her tightly in his hand. He was a little rough, bruising in his fever, but she didn't mind. In fact, it wasn't enough for her. She released him once he had his touch on her and slid her hand down his chest, over his belly and buckle, finding the straining swelling behind his zipper with a firm, sure stroke.

Noah swayed, unable to keep from surging against the powerful temptation of her palm, unwilling to pass up the pleasure of her strong, assured fingers. His free hand grasped hers, holding her tight against himself as he ground forward into that torturous touch.

She laughed at him, the sound throaty and excited with the power she had over what he was feeling. Acting torridly, Noah suddenly shoved her away. She stumbled back, her breasts swaying. She was laughing at him still as she openly licked the flavor of his kisses from her lips. He yanked off his shirt in a single movement, throwing it at her face as she continued to chuckle with her eyes so obviously full of naughty thoughts, and the thoughts to match drifting blatantly in her mind for him to read and know.

She seemed to abruptly remember that the shower was running just as he grabbed for his belt. She stepped back twice, all that was needed for her to meet the torrent of sprays. The water hit her like a thousand stars, beads and rivers of prismatic crystal light that glistened off her face, lashes, breasts, and her long, heartbreaking legs. She sighed with delight, reaching to brace herself against the glass and tile with a hand on either side of herself. She only opened her eyes when she felt his body finally come close to hers. She held her breath as she looked at him, a long, appreciative appraisal.

"Noah," she murmured, her tone sultry and soft, the antithesis to the raging hunger in her eyes and the eager trembling of her hands as she reached for him. She said his name twice more, under her breath, like a private mantra as palms and fingertips slid over the map of muscles on his chest, shoulders, and arms. Her eyes traveled over him just as relentlessly, at last settling on the jutting evidence of his voracious need for her.

You are so hot. Her voice was a seductive whisper in his mind as her tongue reached to lick water off his throat at his pulse point. I mean in terms of sexuality, not temperature.

Oh?

Yes. I thought you might need the clarification, as you are elementally challenged. Although, touching you, hot also applies here as well.

He laughed, amused by the compliments in her statements, even as he surged with pleasure at the knowledge that she found him attractive. At the same time he was inundated by his own very elemental heat as her hands and now her mouth traveled over him. She avoided his attempts to touch her, chuckling against his skin as he was forced to be satisfied with his hands in her soaked hair. She inched down his body, her hands paving bold swipes over his wet skin, her mouth flitting fairy lightly in their wake. Occasionally he would feel the nip of her teeth, making him jolt with the shock of liquid lightning pouring heavily into his already agonizingly expectant body.

You are killing me.

He groaned aloud to punctuate the accusation, the tormented sound echoing off the dripping walls. Kestra smiled against the toned skin across his belly and swept both hands into the lee of his hips, finding him eager for the touch of her very interested hands. She slid her fingers over him, wrapped them around the ever-thickening shaft, relishing the surges in heat and amazing hardness that her touch coaxed from him. Then she lowered to a single knee, dragging her mouth down into the play. Noah's response was vocal as her tongue slipped over the very tip of his erection, a teasing flicker that destroyed his control, then a soft sucking draw of her lips as she closed around him and brought him into the heat of her mouth. His grip on her hair was fierce; the sounds of pleasure escaping him were unhinged and primitive. Kestra drank it all in: his response, his flavor, and the helpless way he thrust into her eager mouth.

She knew she could give him pleasure like this, that she could take away his entire sense of control and of chivalry. She could make him forget all about the pleasures he felt she required, if only for a violently pulsating moment. It didn't matter. Pleasing him was like ecstasy to her. Every sound he made, every twitch and shudder he couldn't contain, the steel need that was now nestled in her mouth; this was all mind-numbingly exciting for her.

Kes!

It was a forceful mental command, coupled with the upward tug of her hair in his hands. She had no choice but to follow, releasing him as she came up to meet his eyes. She stepped closer then, allowing the rigid tips of her breasts to stroke provocatively against his chest, his now-neglected erection coming to nestle against the lowest part of her belly. He could feel the tickle of damp, tight curls against himself, the touch painfully erotic because she had left him raw with sensitivity.

Kestra ignored the accusing heat from Noah's eyes as she reached for a bar of soap. His soap. She kept his gaze as she smelled the clean, masculine scent of it, a perfect complement to the scent of fragrant toasted wood that always seemed to cling to him. Kestra began to soap her hands, but then stopped as she arched that brow in humor and mischief, the white-blond arc maddeningly impish.

"Oh, wait, you already showered." She tossed up the soap so he had to catch it and did a swift about-face. "Do me, baby," she said, provocatively snuggling her bottom against the hard length of his shaft, fitting herself tightly into his hips.

Noah almost dropped the soap, his instinct being to grab the little vixen by her hips and end her game with a savage thrust. Instead, he gritted his teeth and allowed her the victory of the unstoppable groan she wrenched out of him, as well as the surge of heat pulsing against her bottom. He drew a fast lather from the soap, then reached out to whip her hair into his fist, jerking her by the wet mass so her back curved, her shoulders contacting his chest, and his mouth was planted firmly along the side of her neck.

With his free hand, Noah reached around to the front of her body and caught up her breast. Soap smeared over her, a lavish wash of sensation under the ardent sweep of his hand. Her chest foamed with suds as he kneaded her flesh, tortured her with the rub of his fingers as they slipped quickly over her hard nipples. He brought his other hand to the task, making her moan, her body pressing back against his sensually. He slid both breasts into his palms, soap fitting him to her with perfection, her nipples so hard he could not resist rolling them between his fingers even when her cries warned him of how sensitive she was becoming.

When he wanted more, he slid his hands down to her belly and hips. He grasped her hips, keeping her against himself with a taunting grind of his pelvis as he leaned her forward so he could wash her back. Soap slid down between them, the connection they were using to tease each other becoming slick and slippery.

Kestra moaned long and deep, unable to help wriggling into the alleviation of friction. He slid right between her legs, right through heat hotter than the steaming shower, slick lubrication far more efficient than soap.

She heard him curse violently, felt him seize her hips, and then heard the sound of soap hitting the tile. She wanted to tell him, but she was gasping at the feel of him, at how near he was. Until she remembered her new voice.

Take me, Noah. Like this. Now.

His response in voice and mind was a growl of primal demand. He found her, breached her, and thrust as hard and as deep as he could. They would have fallen over had she not braced against the walls as she had felt his gathering surge of possession.

But at last he was there.

"Noah," she rasped as his hands dragged her hips even tighter against himself. She felt him inch deeper inside her, stretching her to accommodate his thickness, scorching her with a blinding and intense heat. Noah shook back his wet head after he had a moment to absorb the bliss of having her so tightly around him again. It was a fantastic strangulation, how she embraced him with honey and heat.

What to do now...?

He teased her with the contemplation, although Kes could hear the strain of pleasure that was on him. She responded by flexing inner muscles around him in blatant suggestion, laughing when he swore again.

That's how I know I'm getting to you. You swear like a sailor on leave.

Impudent wench.

Noah withdrew and stroked deep in return, lifting her onto her toes with the collision of their hips. Her cry made her entire body shudder and he felt it in ripples of response within her body and her mind. He decided to leave teasing to another time. Her need was too great, as was his own. He could sense how she felt, raw and craving, hunger for satisfaction pressing on her. He felt the call of Samhain within her for the first time, the power of it blinding to one so inexperienced with its compulsions. It would be torture for him to withhold what she needed so badly. He grabbed her around the waist and turned her to face a single wall, both of her hands bracing against the tile. Even those simple movements seemed to drive her to distraction. He fitted her into his hands tightly and slowly found a deep stroke into her. She moved with him, using her leverage against the wall to push back until he was hitting her with a rhythmic, magic contact. He knew he had achieved it instantly, even without her sudden chain of encouraging gasps and pleas that accompanied each thrust into her body. She called to him with her mind, a cadence of his name that drove him crazy.

"Come for me, baby," he said roughly. "Come, Kikilia, I can feel you." And he did. He felt the tension, the tightening vise, her frantic pushes against him to increase his depth, and her louder and louder cries for him.

Her orgasm was phenomenal, a ripping explosion and loss of control unlike anything he'd ever experienced. He had to grab hold of her as she seized with her pleasure, her body ferociously demanding his, clutching him with velvet violence until he could no longer bear it. She snatched away all his intentions, all control, forcing his compliance. She did not stop until he was roaring with release, pumping hotly into her until she had drained him completely.

They collapsed against the wall gasping, her body crushed beneath his, her cheek pressed to the tile. She was trying not to cry, but it was too easy for gasps to turn to sobs. Noah knew why she cried, and he felt she was entitled to a joy that moved her to tears. He knew she still couldn't grasp the existence of so much pleasure, or that her body, which she'd thought she'd known so well, was capable of producing it and surrendering to it.

He moved from her, only to turn her toward him. He swung her replete body under the water, holding her with a single arm as he washed her gently, without trying to stimulate her in any way, letting her recover quietly as he took care of her. She gasped when he washed her in tingling places, but the feel of his tender hands filled her with warmth. After he had made certain her body was clean, he washed her hair, lathering it richly and lingering over the long ribbons of wet silk. When he felt it was satisfactorily washed, he suddenly dipped her down along a single arm, bending her back under the fall of the water, rinsing her hair of soap as she laughed. When he was done, he kissed her behind her ear and shut off the taps. He engulfed her in towels, wrapped her hair, and they moved back into the bedroom.

Kestra suddenly gasped when she looked up at the windows.

"Daylight is coming."