Horn of the Unicorn Page 4

  “Oh god,” she cried, shivering so badly that her teeth rattled as his words and masterful mouth created a shattering wave of release that instantly roared through her, spiking her adrenaline, the sensations more powerful than anything she could ever have imagined. It racked her with whipping, lashing pleasure, and all the while his mouth worked at her with savage, feral intent, aggressively claiming every drop, every internal ripple for his own.

  “Sweet, sweet cum, Tess,” he groaned thickly, lapping at her like a greedy tomcat with a bowl of cream while she continued to make painful sobbing sounds, sucking at air, her chest heaving and sex gushing in pleasure while deep, primal pulses gripped her womb. “Like honey on my tongue. Thick and addictive. As intoxicating as I’ve always known you would taste. Made for me, Tess. For no other than my mouth. My tongue. My hungers, no matter how raw or primitive they may be.”

  “Yes,” she gasped, pumping against him as her hands flew to his head, her trembling fingers tangling possessively in the thick, warm tresses, holding him to her, lost in the wet slide of bliss slipping deliciously through her. “Yes.”

  Another long, slow lick caressed the drenched folds, his wicked tongue lapping and swirling through the slippery evidence of her shattering climax. Her scent was earthy and heavy in the mist-thick air, and she could hear him breathing deeply of it, as if eager to draw it completely into the haven of his lungs.

  “Open your eyes,” he repeated, and this time she could hear the sharp edge of vulnerability quivering beneath the command—and it was his need that finally broke her.

  She took a slow, deep breath and cautiously cracked her lids, only to find a smoldering pair of intoxicating azure blue eyes flecked with silver fire trapping her, a slowly twisting smile of pure, carnal satisfaction spreading across the sculpted beauty of his mouth. A hard, beautiful mouth wet with her cream. Jesus. The thought made her dizzy with lust and unbearable longing, and she tightened her fingers, determined to hold on to him forever.

  Come to me…

  “W-w-what?” She tightened her fingers, but the silken strands of silver and blue sifted through her hold, and she jerked so hard that she banged her elbow on the side of the tub, wincing as her mouth opened on a gasp that nearly had her choking as the shower water suddenly pelted her in the face. She blinked against the water dripping from her lashes, obscuring her vision. Nooooo! Shit. Shit. Shit. He was gone! His magnificent body no longer blocked the spray, and it now showered her with a chilling, wrenching feeling of loneliness.

  Oh god. Gone!

  “Damn it, what did you say?” she wailed, struggling against the slick sides of the tub to lift herself, cursing when she slipped and again slammed her elbow into the unyielding marble.

  Come to me, little one, the rumbling voice whispered through her head, seductive and demanding her obedience. It was so tempting, and yet, she knew she was safe from the dangerous allure that could drag her away from her responsibilities. How could she go to him when she knew nothing of him? Not where he lived. Not his name. Not even if he was real. All she knew was that he owned her body and her soul. That he was the keeper of her heart.

  “You’ve freaking lost it, Tess,” she croaked. “Grade-A certifiable, woman.”

  A hysterical laugh burned its way to the back of her throat, but when it came to life it sounded more like a shattered cry torn from her nightmares. My god, what had she become? A demented, ranting woman who had invented a delusion so real, she came beneath his touch…his mouth? Had she already lost her mind? Had her uncle already won?

  Tess struggled to her feet, one hand braced against the wall as she worked to twist off the water, her hair hanging over her shoulders in long, sodden ropes, her now cold flesh mapped with chill bumps as she shivered. Her head felt light and heavy all at once, and the spot upon her thigh that he’d bitten burned warmly with remembered sensation.

  You’re not crazy, my little warrior. You’re mine.

  “Sweet Jesus,” Tess whispered, turning in a slow circle, trying to find the voice, though there was no one but herself in the spacious bathroom. “Who are you?” she whispered, surprised by the raw sound of her words. She carried the husky sounds of a woman well pleasured, and the dizziness pressed down on her harder, the fear that she was going over the edge of reason so sharp she could taste it on the pad of her tongue. Panic, acid and sickening. “Who are you?” she repeated. “How do you make these things happen? What do you want from me?”

  I want you, little one. Come to me, Tess. I have no right to ask you, but I…I cannot help myself.

  “I don’t know how to,” she whispered, aware that she was carrying on a conversation with a voice in her head. But there was no time to get hysterical over the obvious. She could do that after tomorrow, from wherever it was that she would find herself.

  Trust and you will find me. Believe, Tess…

  Her head shook from side to side, a violent tremor beginning in the soles of her feet, racing up her legs, twisting her stomach until it shot through her chest, piercing her arms. “Please, don’t do this to me,” she pleaded hoarsely. “I don’t know how to give you what you want.”

  All that I want is you.

  Her head fell back as hot, stinging tears spilled from the edges of her lashes.

  Come to me, my sweet warrior, and I will be all that you need. Come to me, Tess, so that I might cherish you forever.

  “Oh god, help me.”

  Chapter Three

  Little Men

  Up the airy mountain

  Down the rushy glen

  We daren’t go a-hunting

  For fear of little men…

  “The Faeries“

  William Allingham

  Tess lay on her cot beneath a tangled blanket, curled into the fetal position as she mentally stripped her hide and tortured herself for being so unforgivably naïve and stupid. God, she should have known. Should have guessed that they would separate them. Upon reaching Ireland, they’d not been an hour into their journey when she’d seen the sleek, black sedan carrying Emily exit the small roadway, breaking off from the main group. She’d panicked and fought against the large, meaty hands that had struggled to control her, until finally a crushing blow against her temple had sent her falling into a heavy, nightmare-filled sleep.

  She’d been knocked unconscious, and now Emily was gone.

  “No, no, no,” she silently moaned within her heavy head, her brain aching and eyes stinging as she struggled to form another plan. Where would they be? Where would they have taken her? And what in god’s name was she going to do now? Her plan had been so simple, but at least there had been a small shred of hope Emily would find freedom. Now there was nothing.

  Nothing but the ugly truth that she had failed.

  God, she needed to think. There was no time to wallow in pain and recriminations. Damn it, she needed to leave. A shuffling movement outside the tent alerted her to the guards drawing near, and a moment later, she felt that someone looked through the flap, and she knew her guard was ensuring that she was still unconscious. She struggled not to move, keeping her breathing smooth and even, and eventually she heard the flap of her tent fall back into place, low voices talking of food and drink to be had by the fire. Tess cracked her eyelids to see two shadows moving away, and knew that now was the time. They obviously thought they’d cowed her by separating her from her sister, but Tess was going to be damned before she gave in so easily.

  Steeling herself for courage, she swung her legs over the side of the cot, her thoughts filled with plans to find the main road, then backtrack until she found the correct unnamed exit off the small, winding country road. They couldn’t be far. No, they were all heading in the same direction. She would find her sister. She had to. Throwing off the covers that had been spread haphazardly over her body, she sprang to her feet, instantly regretting the sudden movement when her vision went black and her stomach somersaulted with nausea. Damn, she must have been hit harder than she’d realized. With a silent mo
an she felt herself falling backwards into nothingness. Her head swam, spinning reality into a fuzzy, hazy dreamscape where there were no worries, no recriminations, no timetable and no guilt. Down, down, down she fell, falling through the blackness of her mind like Alice through the rabbit hole, until the dark oblivion claimed her once again.

  * * * * *

  It was the lights which woke her. The tiny, incandescent pinpricks flickering before her face like a sparkling, glimmering shower of glitter. The northern lights in her dreams. She shifted, floating at the edge of consciousness, not wanting to abandon the fleeting dreams of her mystery lover, when she felt the weight upon her body. Weight, and yet weightless, like the random pattering of tiny, feather-light feet, as if something were running upon…her…skin.

  Oh god…a bloody mouse!

  The thought ripped Tess from that warm, sensual floating, to a bright, glaring alertness. She sat straight up on her cot and began swatting at the dark denim of her jeans, kicking her legs to dispel whatever had been moving across her body. But there was nothing there. She blinked against the unnatural colors glowing around her in the semidarkness, trying to remember where she was and what she needed to do, when she heard the faintest tinkling melody of a laugh beside her left ear. Jerking her head to the side, her mouth open on a soundless scream and her eyes shocked wide, she came face-to-face with the most beautiful creature she’d ever set eyes upon.

  It fluttered by the side of her head, arms crossed before its slim, willowy body, while a petite pair of opalescent wings flickered rapidly at its back, shimmering with a shower of silvers and purples, pinks and pearly white that sparkled in the cold, crisp air.

  “Come with us, maiden,” the petite fairylike female said in a soft, lyrical voice that floated gently on the air, her lithe body wrapped in swathes of jeweled, iridescent velvet that hid her breasts and spanned her narrow hips. “We are here to help you. Come with us.”

  Tess shook her head, wincing from the stabbing bite of pain throbbing dully in her temple, but determined nonetheless to shake some sense into her dazed faculties. “This can’t be real,” she whispered, surprised when another voice answered from the vicinity of her lap. She looked down to see a handsome little male in crimson velvet leggings sitting cross-legged upon her left thigh, a knowing smile curving the arrogant beauty of his mischievous mouth.

  “Oh, we’re real, maiden,” the creature murmured, shifting to his feet in a rippling display of muscles while his wings flickered lazily at his back, sprinkling her jeans with sparkling dust. “If you were not already his, I’d be more than happy to demonstrate just how real I am, once I’ve regained my proper size.” And the little devil had the audacity to wink at her.

  Tess blinked rapidly against the dizzying feeling of confusion. Already his? Who the hell was this little Casanova referring to? And just where did they think she was going?

  As if he read her thoughts, his smile widened, a petite dimple denting the smooth perfection of his right cheek. “Oh, you’ll understand soon enough, lovey. For now, all that matters is getting you to the safety of The Wood. I’d rather not have that snarling grey wolf on my back, which is precisely what will happen if we tarry.” He took flight from her leg, reaching down to pull away the tangled covers at her feet, while all she could do was stare, her jaw gaping, breath beginning to jerk painfully from her lungs. When she failed to move, he frowned down at her. “Come now. There will be plenty of time for hysterics later.”

  “I’m not hysterical,” she said softly, too stunned to take offense at his arrogant manner. For such a little thing, he was certainly commanding enough to have normally set her teeth on edge. “Still, I can’t help but wonder how you plan on getting past the guards.” And why on Earth am I questioning a figment of my imagination as if he were real?

  His lips curled with cocky irreverence once more. “They are no worry to us now, maiden. We have made them sleep. Come and see.”

  Tess followed his beckoning hands until she peeked around the frayed edges of her tent flap, unable to choke back the stunned cry that parted her lips. It was true. Their bodies contorted in agony as they twisted upon the long grass. She did not want to know what monsters tortured them in sleep, and yet she could not stop from gasping, “Oh my god, what have you done to them?” There was no accusation in her voice, merely wild curiosity. Montgomery’s men deserved no sympathy, and Tess had none to offer them.

  “Naught that they didn’t deserve, maiden. Sweet slumber for such evil men. Their dreams will make them sweat and cry, whimpering for mercy, and when the sun crests the valley, they will awaken knowing the true manner of hell that awaits them upon their deaths.”

  “Why are they moving like that?” she whispered, watching as the bodies of the men left to guard her writhed in what appeared to be tormented agony, their hands clawing at their flesh as if they tried to rip nightmares from their brutish, hulking frames.

  “They’ve been given the demon sleep,” he said with an evil grin. “And I’ve satisfied your curiosity for long enough. We must go now.”

  Tess moved back from the open flap, away from the determined look on the little creature’s face, aware that others hovered in the air behind her. Trying to remain calm, she said, “I cannot leave without my sister. And why should I go with you? This…this isn’t real. Just my imagination. It’s all some kind of sick trick my mind is playing on me. Not real, none of it.”

  “He wishes you come to him,” the gorgeous little being sighed, clearly losing patience with her. “Maiden, you must obey.”

  Come to me, little one…

  Tess shook her head against the remembered words from her bright angel, and narrowed her eyes, lifting her chin in stubborn defiance. “Who does?” she asked carefully, aware that her heart was pounding so rapidly it could burst.

  Twinkling laughter filled her ears once again. “You know the answer, beautiful mortal,” the voices at her back called out. “He calls you. Go to him.”

  Tess swallowed thickly, half afraid this was real, and half afraid she was living some kind of deranged delusion within the realm of her mind. “I can’t leave without my sister,” she cried out, hating the trembling fear in her voice.

  The twinkling laugher faded all around her, the sudden silence eerily unsettling. The tiny commander came forward until he hovered at the tip of her nose, his glittering eyes hard and determined, as if he knew the fight that was soon to be on his hands and had hoped to avoid it. “That is not possible, mortal one.”

  A terrible sense of horror twisted through her belly, nearly doubling her over. “What do you mean? Why not? I refuse to go anywhere without Emily.”

  “But you must,” he sighed, sending a meaningful look to the creatures at her shoulders. From the corners of her eyes, Tess could see a good ten to twenty little winged bodies fluttering in the air. “You cannot help Emily here. She is already in the lands beyond The Wicket Wood.”

  “Where?” she cried out, wanting to grab him with her hands and crush the truth from him, but unable to do it, knowing instinctively that she could not harm him. “What do you mean?” she croaked, her voice breaking with emotion. “What lands?”

  “They have taken her to the Lower Realms of the Blood Goddess,” he explained, his voice calm, even and sure, and that terrible horror spread through her, sickening and raw as she realized he was telling her the truth. “She is gone forever, and now you must come with us. You cannot help her by remaining here, maiden.”

  No! Tess refused to accept it. “I have to get her back,” she snarled, beyond furious with herself. Where was her mind? Why was she not running through the night, trying to escape them? Why did she feel bound to follow their command? Why did she recoil at the thought of striking them down with her fists? Were they controlling her with some type of mind power? Brainwashing her?

  “You must go with us to The Wood, pretty one,” a soft voice whispered in her ear, the creature’s fairylike wings tickling the sensitive lobe. “Do not think of fig
hting us. Your only hope is the beast. Only one as powerful as he can help you reclaim what you’ve lost.”

  No—it was a lie, she thought as her throat closed up with emotion, nearly choking her. Nothing could ever help her reclaim the losses of her life, but she could save Emily. She had to save Emily.

  As if reading her mind, the tiny voice whispered once more in her ear. “Do not think upon it now, maiden. The mighty one will protect you and all that you love. He is the most feared of all. He will not fail you—and you, maiden, will not fail him.”

  “Leave me alone, damn it,” she growled, struggling against the invisible bonds which suddenly lifted her into the air, sweeping her off her feet until she hovered like an apparition, her feet drifting above the mist-covered ground. As she began moving forward, through the open flap of the tent, speeding faster and faster through the damp, chilled air of the night, she screamed, struggling to fight her invisible bonds as the creatures flanked her sides, their tiny wings working frantically in the heavy wind. “I have to save my sister, damn you!”

  “No, maiden,” the little commander’s voice called out, the melodic tones doing something so wonderfully odd to her body. She felt heavy, and yet, as light as air, as if she weighed but the unsubstantial mass of a feather, with clouds for bones and mist for blood, drifting easily on the midnight hour’s breeze. “All you must do is follow.”

  Tess screamed inside her mind, but knew her lips made no sound as her lids fell and the world spun away from her, their tiny voices carrying her along in a mist-thickened, sweetly scented void of rushing wind and lyrical laughter.

  “All you must do is fall, maiden, and we shall carry you along. Rest and dream, and when next you open your eyes, you will look upon Graedor the Grey. He is the one who sent us for you, for the beast himself would never do so, even though it is the beast to whom you belong. You are his.”