• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

By Root 3554 0

were drowning in Jean-Claude, but my psyche wasn’t, which meant that Marianne was right. I could hold the dead outside my shield easier than the living. This gave me the courage to do a little more. I leaned my face against Jean-Claude’s, and nothing happened. Oh, the feel of his skin against mine sent a thrill through my body, but my shields never wavered. I felt some tension that I hadn’t even known was there ease out of me. I wanted him to hold me. It wasn’t just sex. If that was all it was, I could have been rid of him long ago. He must have felt it, too, because his hands rested lightly on my bare arms. When I didn’t protest, his hands caressed my skin, and that small movement brought my breath to a sigh.

I leaned into him, wrapping my arms around his waist, pressing the lines of our bodies together. I rested my head on his chest, and I could hear his heart beating. It didn’t always beat, but tonight it did. We held each other, and it was nearly chaste, just a renewal of the fact that we were touching again. I’d worked on the metaphysical stuff so I could do this and not lose myself. It had been worth the effort.

He pulled back first, enough to look into my face. “We can marry the marks here, or find somewhere more private.” He wasn’t whispering as much as before. Apparently he didn’t care now if others knew what we were doing.

“I’m not clear on what marrying the marks means.”

“I thought your Marianne had explained it to you.”

“She said we’ll fit together like puzzle pieces and there’ll be a release of power when it happens. But she also said that the manner in which it is done is individual to the participants.”

“You sound as if you are quoting.”

“I am.”

He frowned, and even that small movement was somehow fascinating. “I do not want you to be unpleasantly surprised, ma petite. I am striving for honesty, since you value it so highly. I have never done this with anyone, but most things are sexual between us, whether we will or no, so it is likely this will be, too.”

“I can’t leave the leopards here long enough to grab a hotel room, Jean-Claude.”

“They will not be harmed. Until you go upstairs, they will be safe.”

I shook my head and pulled away from him. “I’m sorry, but I am not leaving here without them. If you want to do this afterwards, that’s fine with me, but the leopards are priority. They’re waiting for me to rescue them. I can’t go off and have what amounts to metaphysical sex while they’re afraid and bleeding somewhere.”

“No, it cannot wait. I want us to have this done before the fight begins. I do not like that your gun is gone.”

“Will this marriage of the marks give me more . . . abilities?”

“Yes.”

“And you, what do you get out of it?” I was standing against the wall now, not touching him.

“My own defenses will be strong once more, and I will gain power, as well. You know that.”

“Are there any surprises connected with this that I should know about?”

“As I said, I have never done this with anyone, nor have I seen it done. It will be as much a surprise to me as to you.”

I stared up into his lovely eyes and wished I believed that.

“I see the distrust in your eyes, ma petite. But it is not me that you do not trust. It is your power. Nothing ever goes as it should with you, ma petite, because you are like no power come before you. You are wild magic, untamed. You throw the best of plans to the wind.”

“I’ve been learning control, Jean-Claude.”

“I hope it is enough.”

“You’re scaring me.”

He sighed. “And that was the last thing I wished to do.”

I shook my head. “Look, Jean-Claude, I know everyone keeps saying my people are fine, but I want to see for myself, so let’s just get this done.”

“This should be something special and mystical, ma petite.”

I looked around the club. “Then we need a different setting.”

“I agree, but the setting was your choosing, not mine.”

“But you’re the one insisting on it having to be right now before all the fireworks start.”

“True.” He sighed and held out his hand to me. “Come, let us at least go to our table.”

I actually thought about refusing his hand.