Chapter 4

Long minutes or hours later, Ariel wasn’t certain which, the cycles came to a terrifying, sliding stop, the wind swirling around them, whipping past her ears with the triumphant laughter of the man in front of her.

He was as wild as the wind itself. His laughter filled with excitement, pleasure, the thrill of the chase and that of the fight. Before she could do more than gasp, he turned to her, pulled her across his lap and lowered his head for a kiss that stole her breath. His tongue pushed demandingly past her lips, sweeping along hers with a carnal passion that had every nerve ending in her body flaming in riotous response. She stiffened in his arms, would have fought him. She wanted to fight him, and yet she didn’t. The contradictory impulses confused her, kept her still, kept her searching for a reason why she wasn’t trying to rip his face off for his sheer nerve. Flashing memories of other kisses, other touches, laughter in battle and in bed flitted through her mind. She belonged to him.

Her hands gripped his shoulders as his hand splayed just beneath her breast, close to the crystal that now lay silent. His hand was warm through the chilled dampness of her clothing, his body raging with lust if the erection pressed to her side was anything to go by.

“You were incredible,” he breathed against her lips as he came up for air.

“Absolutely incredible.”

Ariel blinked up at him in shock as he stared down at her, a smile creasing his face, his eyes dark as he watched her.

“Thank you. I think.” She eased herself up, watching him warily now. “Where are we?”

“Outside Lexington, near the airport.”

She looked around, avoiding the gazes of the others watching them as she recognized the area.

“Did we lose them?” She watched a few passing cars suspiciously.

“For now.” He shrugged, his rough voice still vibrating with arousal. “We’ll take a room for the rest of the night and plan out what we do from here. We need to get you warm and dry. I don’t want you picking up pneumonia again.”

She glanced at him in surprise. What the hell was going on here?

“Who are you?” she snapped, more angry at herself for her position now than she was at him.

She moved to struggle from his lap and the hard length of his erection pressing into her. She needed to think, to figure out what was going on. It was impossible to do so while his cock was pressing so thick and hard against her.

“Get back behind me,” he finally commanded her, as though command came naturally to him. “We’ve only a short distance to go to the motel and we can talk there.”

“Where’s my sword?” She ignored the order.

She checked the sheath at the small of her back for her dagger, thankfully it was still there.

“I have your sword, babe,” he murmured, the innuendo not exactly lost on her though as he shifted her behind him again before pointing to the sheath at his back. The one that carried his sword, as well as hers.

“That’s good to know,” she replied mockingly.

“I thought it might bring you comfort,” he chuckled as she settled in behind him.

“Let’s go, the commander’s getting testy. He doesn’t like getting wet.”

He nodded to the silent couple ahead of them who watched them with penetrating, too intent gazes.

“He can join the crowd,” she muttered, gripping his waist as he leaned over the motorcycle’s chest pad once again.

The cycle shot off, just as it had before, in the center of the strange procession that made their way to the motel on a deserted stretch of interstate. It wasn’t long before they pulled into the motel parking lot and cut the engines, everyone dismounting wearily.

“Kanna has our rooms.” The dark, faintly accented voice of the one who had been pointed out as the commander struck her senses with its familiarity. “She has food waiting too. Thank God.”

She could hear the weariness in his voice, a weariness that the man who stood beside her obviously didn’t feel.

“You’re getting old, Devlin,” her rescuer chuckled. “Or lazy.”

“Probably both.” Devlin snorted, his arm curling around the much smaller woman at his side.

The woman watched Ariel closely, too intently for comfort.

“Let’s find our dinner and our beds for now. We’ll meet in the morning to decide where we go from here.”

“Come on.” A large hand at the small of her back propelled her forward.

“Stop pushing at me,” she hissed, becoming aware of the fact that since the moment she had met him in the earlier storm he had either been yanking her forward or kissing her senseless.

“Move a bit faster and I wouldn’t have to. God gave you those long legs for more than wrapping around a man’s waist, sweetness,” he told her, his voice thick with amusement.

“You’re dangerous to be around,” she told him fiercely. “I should be running from you, not with you.”

“There’s no escaping this, Ariel, and I know it’s in your mind to try. I don’t intend to allow that to happen.” His voice hardened, purpose filling it. She glanced up at him, for the first time getting a clear look at his face from the lights outside the motel. His features were harsh, his eyes swirling with myriad shades of gray, rather like an intense, building storm. Long, tawny gold hair fell past his shoulders and he was massive muscle. From his neck to his ankles, the man was built like a mountain.

At over five-foot-ten, Ariel had often felt too tall, too gangly. But he made her feel feminine, petite, and that just pissed her off. She had gone twenty-six years without that feeling; she sure as hell didn’t need it now.

As they moved through the back lobby doors and then to the elevators, she watched the men gathered around her warily. There was something about them, something otherworldly and too powerful to be entirely comfortable. They reminded her a bit of Alyx, Lynn Carstairs’ lover. He wasn’t natural in any human way except perhaps looks. These men had that same dangerous, alien aura. To be truthful, Alyx was very alien, as Lynn had confided to her before Ariel had more or less fired the group. Too alien. Alien, as in not born on Earth. That knowledge still had the power to shock and amaze her.

The woman sheltered beneath the commander’s arm was different, though. Petite, obviously tired, but not weak. She had a bearing of strength, of comfort, which reached out to Ariel, though she wasn’t certain why.

Her long, white-blonde hair framed a petite, drowsy expression. And if Ariel thought she was watching the other woman closely, then it was no closer than the woman watched her. A light curl to her lips indicated amused indulgence, and emerald eyes glinted with affection. An affection that seeped into Ariel’s consciousness as well. Which made no sense at all.

“Your rooms are ready.” Ariel jumped in surprise as the elevator doors opened and the small, brown-haired woman faced them commandingly. “Follow me. I’ve stocked them accordingly and you should have every thing you need.” She stopped a few feet up the hall, waving to the opened doors on each side of the hall. “I’m in the last room. Just let me know if you need anything.”

Ariel watched in surprise as each man headed to a different room.

“Come on, slowpoke, I’m starved.” That hand pushed at her back once again.

“Imbecile,” she muttered as he herded her into one of the nearest rooms and sighed in relief as he closed and locked the door behind them.

“That was Kanna.” He nodded to the door, indicating the woman who had met them. “You’ll see her again in the morning. The blonde was Chantel, the warrior with her, Devlin…”

“Warrior?” She lifted a brow mockingly as she entered the small suite, staring around the room and wondering how in the hell she was supposed to maneuver herself out of whatever trouble she had managed to get into this time.

“Warrior.” He nodded agreeably, flashing a smile of male satisfaction. “Oh good, the food’s still hot.”

Before she could protest, he stepped into the bathroom, leaving the door wide. Ariel blinked as she heard the faucet running, watching the doorway until he walked out, drying his hands and face with a hand towel.

“Go ahead and get cleaned up and we’ll eat.”

“Who the hell are you?” she asked him with what she considered a quite calm demeanor.

Another of those smiles. A flash of white teeth, a curve of male satisfaction, the darkening of those unusual gray eyes.

“Shanar, but you can call me Shane.” He watched her expectantly, the harsh features of his face somehow gentled by the incredible warmth of eyes that should have appeared cool.

“Shanar…who?” She pursed her lips and barely refrained from rolling her eyes. Was he being deliberately obtuse or had he just been born so arrogantly male? She ignored the flash of familiarity, the feeling that she should remember him.

“Steele.” The smooth rumble of his voice as he said the word sent shivers down her spine. “Shanar Steele. Now get washed up, I’m damned hungry and it’s been a lot of years since I’ve had KFC in front of me. I might not wait on you.”

Savage… Ariel stilled as the lightest of breezes danced around her, the whisper of it creating a surge of warmth at her ear as the single word had her swallowing tightly. No one else had ever heard the whispers in the breeze. She had grown used to hiding her reaction to them as best she could. But they were growing more frequent, more intent than before. Her father had suspected it, often aware when the voices teased at her ears. When she refused to admit to it, refused to tell him what she heard, he punished her.

She forced away the memories of the darkness closing in on her, stealing her breath and her mind. It was over, years in the past, she told herself. Her father hadn’t driven her to madness, nor had he yet managed to convince anyone that she was crazy as he had convinced the judges that her mother and grandmother were. She was safe from him. Allowing those memories to affect her now would serve no purpose at all.

“Get cleaned up, Ariel. We’ll talk after we eat.” His fingers went to the buttons of his shirt, releasing them slowly. “Or you can watch me change into something drier…”

he finally suggested, his voice lowering until it nearly grated from his chest.

She jerked to attention as the strong, broad expanse of his deeply tanned chest began to come into view. That put her into motion as nothing else could have. Damn him, he was distracting enough dressed and mocking, she didn’t need him naked and sensual to reinforce the knowledge that this man was a weakness she could ill-afford. She moved quickly to the bathroom, but unlike him she slammed the door closed behind her and locked it like the coward she knew she was being. Breathing roughly, she closed her eyes as the scent of him, stronger here than it was outside, wrapped around her. It was intoxicating, weakening. She hated her ability to both hear and smell things that no one else seemed able to detect. In this case, she didn’t know if she should regret it or not. The aroma was dark, like the storm, clean and fresh with just a hint of heat. Male heat. Arousal.

She bit her lip as that particular scent sent her own hormones into overdrive. Her breasts swelled in response to it, her nipples beading tightly beneath her damp shirt.

“I have a clean gown and robe for you out here,” he called through the door.

“Kanna just brought it.”

He knocked on the door then. “Open the door, Ariel. You can’t eat or sleep in those wet clothes.”

Turning, she laid her forehead against the smooth metal before she unlocked it with a sigh and stepped back to open it a few narrow inches.

The material was thrust into the room. A long gown, robe and a pair of soft, thickly padded socks. She jerked them from his hands as a shiver worked over her, reminding her that she was indeed still dressed in wet clothes.

“Go ahead and shower if you like,” he told her as she closed the door quickly. “I’m sure I can hold off on all this chicken long enough for that.”

His voice shouldn’t sound so gentle, she thought, not as deep and as rough as it was; it should be frightening, nightmarish. It shouldn’t bring fractured memories of heated sighs and lust-filled caresses.

Ten minutes later, warm from the shower and wrapped in the cotton comfort of the plain white gown and robe, she stepped hesitantly from the bathroom, her gaze seeking and finding him as she prepared herself for a fight. She could feel the heat, the arousal and lust that emanated from him. She could see it. He was waiting on her. Slouched on the couch, bare feet propped on the low coffee table as he watched the news on the flat-screened television mounted to the opposite wall.

He turned his head slowly, his body tensing before his eyes ever met hers. Instantly, they darkened, heat flaring in the dark centers as she stood hesitantly at the entrance to the room.

“I’m not going to rape you.” Irritation reflected in his voice when he shifted as though to get up, causing her to back away a step.

It wasn’t that she was frightened; to the contrary, she was too drawn to him. Too aware of him for her own good.

“Good thing,” she responded archly. “Because I’m not in the mood to be raped.”

He arched a brow in sudden humor, planted his feet on the floor and rose from the couch until she was forced to look up at him.

“Come on, little bit, let’s eat. I’m starving.”

Little bit?

“What did you do with my sword?” She wasn’t about to make another move without the weapon that had saved her life earlier that night. And she wasn’t about to accept any of his rumbling innuendoes either.

He flashed her a half-drowsy, sex-laden look instead.

“It’s under your bed. You can check it out after we eat.”

He moved to the table and her eyes widened.

“The others are joining us?” She really wasn’t in the mood for more strangers. Casting her a surprised look he sat down. “Do you see them here? Get over here and eat, woman. I’m half-starved. I need fuel.”

There was a large box of chicken, two potato and gravy sides as well as several other assorted accompaniments. He opened the box, then the large cups and began piling the Styrofoam plate he had before him high. At his elbow, a jug of iced tea waited with two empty cups.

“Sit down and eat. Then we’ll talk.” There was no amusement in his voice now when he looked up at her. His eyes were a dark, stormy gray without the sense of laughter that had filled them before.

“Do you get your way like that often?” she asked, though she took her seat and selected her food in much smaller quantities than he had.

“Like what?” he growled.

“Like your word is law and I better follow it implicitly?” She gave him a look of wide-eyed innocence. “I don’t obey so well, Mr. Steele.”

A shadow seemed to cross his expression and for a moment, bleak memory filled the unusual depths of his eyes.

“Eat,” he said again, the sound of weary male patience grating on her temper.

“We’ll discuss your shortcomings later as well. We both need a full stomach and a clear head for that though.”

So that was how it was going to be? Ariel hid her smile and did as she was bade, for the moment. She ate. But only because she was hungry…