Fury of the Demon (Kara Gillian 6)

Paul didn’t move or even acknowledge him. Bryce scowled, said something I couldn’t hear and pointed for Jill to stay against the wall of the house. He leapt off the porch and hurried toward Paul, staying low as leaves and large drops of rain lashed through the air. “Paul! Jesus, kid. You need to get out of here!”

Paul startled as Bryce put a hand on his shoulder. “What?” He jerked his eyes up to Bryce. “No. I’m okay.”

Bryce shielded his face with his forearm. “Yeah?” he shouted over the wind. “You’re giving me a heart attack.”

Paul’s face filled with sudden worry, then he scrambled to his feet and returned to the porch with a deeply relieved Bryce right behind him.

With one hand still held high, Mzatal tightened his arm around me. “Now, zharkat.”

Lightning leaped to his hand, and a CRACK of thunder ripped the air. Power slammed through me, like a ten-foot-high wall of water crashing down, but without it crushing me or bowling me over. Even though I’d never been struck by lightning, I knew without a doubt this wasn’t at all the same. Every particle of every atom in my body screamed in joyous furor, utterly painless yet with an intensity that threatened to overwhelm.

Almost as an afterthought, I remembered to shunt the power out to the pattern, filling every aspect and sigil and loop as it ignited in a glorious rush. I felt Mzatal’s approving acknowledgement of completion as he released the strike.

Eyes wide, I breathed in shaky gasps. It felt like a roller coaster ride, the kind where you scream you want off while it’s happening, then can’t wait to do it again as soon as it’s over. “Hot fucking damn,” I managed, though I knew I had a crazy grin on my face. Every cell in my body seemed to vibrate on the verge between uncomfortable and ecstatic pleasure.

Mzatal lowered his hand, radiating strength and power as he dropped his head beside mine and nuzzled my neck. “Do you wish to remain for more, zharkat?” he asked, voice rich and intense. “The diagram is co

mplete, but I am not.”

I gave an unsteady laugh. “I can take it if you can.” I leaned back into him, not wanting the moment to end. In my peripheral vision I saw Bryce shield Jill protectively on the porch, while Paul stared at us in utter awe.

Rain lashed around us, and the trees groaned under the onslaught of the wind, though we remained untouched in our arcane creation. Mzatal straightened, lifted his right hand again. “This one is for pleasure.”

The second strike was as heart-stoppingly kickass awesome as the first—even more so as Mzatal held the power, reveled in it, and shared it with me, with no need to shunt it to the diagram. Our connection expanded and crystallized in near orgasmic ecstasy, and in those extraordinary seconds, I saw through his eyes, felt what he felt, knew what he knew. When he released the lightning, the intimate hyper-awareness went with it, but the entire experience still left me breathless, amazed, and feeling somehow more than myself.

Mzatal, vibrant and alive, turned me and gathered me close. “Well done, zharkat,” he murmured.

“That was wild,” I said with a soft laugh. “And a little terrifying.”

“It is exhilarating,” he agreed. “And another means to enhance potency.”

I smiled up at him, certain I was glowing. “Did it work? Do we have a mini-nexus now?” I felt plenty of power around us, but I had no idea if it was from the lightning strikes, was generated by the diagram, or simply radiated from us.

“We do. It is perfect.”

I grinned. “A bouncing baby nexus.”

For a brief instant he tried to hold back the laugh, then gave up and let it out—a glorious rich sound. “Yes,” he finally said, eyes still swimming with mirth. “And we its proud parents.”

He cradled the back of my head in one hand, slid the other to the small of my back, pulled me close for a deep and smoldering kiss. I slid my arms around his neck and returned it eagerly. I clearly felt his enhanced potency, and I had some neat ideas for how to celebrate the addition of a mini-nexus to our magic family.

But not right here in full view of spectators. I broke the kiss and seized his hand. “Pond,” I gasped, and then we were off at a run down the trail. I let him lead since I figured he could see better in the rainy gloom, and running smack into a pine would probably cool my ardor a teensy bit.

Lightning still lit the clouds as we emerged into the clearing, reflected in the pond like earth and sky joined in perfect synchrony. Dozens of sigils glowed around his little pavilion, adding their own color and sparkle to the surface of the water and casting soft light on the surroundings. Literally a magical setting, I thought as he drew me close again for another searing kiss. I moaned against his mouth as my hands worked the buttons on his shirt. Or tried to.

I pulled back with a curse of frustration. “Shitballs goddammit!” I snarled as the wet fabric defeated my attempts. “Are these stapled together?” Great. Magical setting overwhelmed by a ridiculously mundane issue.

He laughed, took my hand, and focused, and a heartbeat later power wrapped around us to pull the rainwater from our clothes and hair and vaporize it with a hiss.

“Show off,” I teased, then made short work of divesting him of the now-dry shirt. The rest of his clothing quickly followed along with my own, and then he scooped me up in his arms, strode to the pavilion, and tumbled me to the mattress.

Laughing, I took hold of his braid and delighted in his groan as I tugged him to me with it. The groan shifted to a growl of desire as he lowered his head to my breast and claimed a nipple. I let out a gasping cry as I arched up to his mouth, wrapped my arms around him, and savored the perfection of his body against mine.

He shifted lower, and I dropped my head back, grip tightening on his head and hair as he wrung incoherent noises from me. Hands and mouth and everything that was him, so familiar to me now yet still as exhilarating as our first time. I eagerly succumbed to it all, cried out and clenched and felt his satisfaction and delight mingle with my pleasure.

Mzatal lifted his head as I fought to catch my breath, his gaze filled with stunning joy and passion. “Zharkat,” he murmured, then shifted forward.

“Not so fast,” I said with a throaty laugh as I once again seized his braid, wrapped it around my hand. “My turn.” Seizing control, I used the grip on his braid, shifted my weight and hooked a leg around his to reverse our positions. Mirthful delight danced in his eyes as he went to his back and I knelt astride him. We both knew he could have resisted easily, but where would be the fun in that? Yet the smile he turned on me was anything but indulgent. I claimed his mouth and tasted my own pleasure on his lips. A groan ripped from his throat, and the hands that rose to grip my hips shuddered with his own unslaked need.