Rampant

Am I really doing this? she wondered.

Somewhere the faint sounds of music filtered through a wall. Elspeth growled, and behind her, Cain’s erection seemed to be everywhere, like several cocks rubbing against her, inside and out. Was it just him, or were there other men? Against her breasts and between her pussy lips she felt them—one buried inside her sex, another pushing at her anus, opening her up, making her gasp and shudder, crazy for release.

Then, without warning, Zoë only saw dark shadows skittering away, and waves crashing on the cliff below.

She was gripping hard on to the railing of the terrace, bent right over it at the waist, her eyes focused below where the waves crashed violently onto the rocks at the base of the cliff. It’s not real.

She struggled to gather herself. The hem of her dress flapped against the backs of her thighs. She hadn’t been naked at all. Did I imagine it?

The atmosphere had shifted again and she gasped for breath, struggling to regain her equilibrium. Off to her left she heard a sound, and then another. She struggled to identify what it was. What the bloody hell had happened to her?

The sound—it was somebody clapping, slowly. Her head jerked around and she tried to focus. As she did, she saw her neighbor, Grayson Murdoch. He was just a few feet away, observing her. She felt dizzy, and a little nauseous, like a bout of travel sickness.

Cain had stepped away. With immense effort she managed to straighten up, noticing as she did that Grayson was entirely dressed in black, his long blond hair flying loose out to one side in the blustery wind that had whipped up around them.

“Very impressive,” Grayson said, looking out at the sky. “Do you put on the show for all the visitors, or only the attractive female variety?”

His eyes flashed silver in the moonlight, and Zoë blinked. Glancing at Cain, she saw he had a smug smile on his face, as if he was amused that her neighbor had entered onto his territory.

They were like two tomcats stalking one another. It made her want to roll on the ground and expose her femininity to them, to find out which one would win in a squall. The idea flitted through her mind and made her core tighten with anticipation. Weird. It was so unlike anything she would normally think that she struggled to figure out if she were awake or asleep. She tried to step away from the railing and as she did her heels shifted under her. She kept a hold of it by two fingers until she felt steady. The wind was much higher than it had been and she felt so light-headed that she wondered if she might be blown away.

Her purse was at her feet, and she leaned down to swipe it up, still holding the railing for support. The cliff seemed treacherous and she wanted to step away.

“I think I’ve had too much to drink,” she said, trying to convince herself.

Grayson lifted his eyebrows at her, but he was smiling. “Have you been feeding her your fancy wine, Davot?”

There was an accusation in his tone. It leveled Zoë somewhat. Was he insinuating something? That bottle with the wax seal, she’d never seen anything like it before. Maybe it was particularly potent stuff.

She glanced at Cain.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cain said. “Watch your mouth, Murdoch.” He’d adopted a nonchalant stance, but his expression gave away his annoyance.

They were enemies and they wanted to punch each other’s lights out, that much was obvious to Zoë, even if everything else confused her all to hell. She wavered. Damn. She didn’t want to look so ditzy, not to either of them.

Grayson smiled at her then, making an intimate connection. She was glad of it. It made her stand up straight and push her shoulders back.

He sauntered over. “Allow me to assist.”

He lifted her easily into his arms, and she grabbed him around the neck, clinging to what felt strong and sure. He held her tight against him, and she laughed softly and glanced up at him. His eyes twinkled at her, and she felt something flutter open inside her. “Thank you,” she whispered.

He turned and strode off, shouting something back over his shoulder to Davot as he went. Zoë didn’t catch what it was. “But I haven’t paid yet,” she said, vaguely, remembering—then the shape of Grayson’s shoulders under her hands and the look in his eyes made her forget that particular issue altogether.

She had the feeling she would be embarrassed about this in the morning, but right now—hell, no! The wild alley cat had swiped her right from under the nose of the other, and she tightened her grip on him, secretly thrilled.

Cain Davot snorted derisively.

“Amateur,” he snarled under his breath. A woman like that, a city girl, would react badly to Neanderthal behavior, he was sure of it. He moved into the shadows so that he could observe them unseen as they flitted down the steps and away from the restaurant. Once they were on the road, Murdoch paused and set her down on her feet. She wavered unsteadily and held on to him for a moment and they exchanged a few words before she stepped away. Murdoch kept one hand on her for a few moments and then nodded in the direction of Shore Lane.

For a brief moment Davot entertained the idea of luring her back by means of magic. He’d been making progress. Once he’d unleashed a sensory spell around her she opened to the sexual suggestions he planted in her mind. That boded well. He couldn’t, however, afford to freak her out. That’s the only reason he’d let Murdoch take the upper hand.

Murdoch was nothing but a minor irritation, an upstart—a lone he-witch who knew enough bits of magic to be a nuisance, no more. The stranger said he was in Carbrey to do research, but was there more to it? Cain had him followed back to Edinburgh, where he worked at the university. He’d also sent out his most trusted people to find out what they could. The villagers along the coast knew of Murdoch, but wouldn’t say more. As a consequence he’d tried a boundary spell around his patch, to keep Murdoch out. It hadn’t worked. Cain had met his type before: tenacious, self-righteous, but a lone witch was ultimately useless in the face of a strong coven with a focused cause. Tomorrow he’d send his people in. Tomorrow they would ease the host away from Grayson Murdoch.

Reaching into his pocket he flipped open his phone, preparing to summon his coven. As he did, the woman, Zoë, glanced back over her shoulder in the direction of the restaurant. Murdoch said something, and she nodded. A moment later, she started walking toward the village with Murdoch alongside her. Davot shrugged.

There was still plenty of time to lure Zoë and prepare her for the exact moment when she would be needed. He’d get what he wanted in the end, of that he was certain. Besides, if Murdoch did get in his way, he’d simply conjure him an instant and unsavory death.

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