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In the Company of Witches(32)

By:Joey W. Hill


“Work those jeans as well,” Ana advised. “Make him slobber at your feet like a hound.”

“You all can go back to bed,” she said reprovingly. “I don’t want to see any dark circles under your eyes when entertaining tonight.”

Still, an almost girlish smile played around her lips as she opened the door. No matter her earlier, darker thoughts, it was hard to resist the drug of infatuation.

God and Goddess, they were right. Mikhael leaned against the old-fashioned hitching post on the front lawn. It was an affectation, except right now he could have put it to functional use. Well, maybe not. Raina didn’t think the creature with him would consent to being tethered in any way. The black horse was taller than Mikhael and wide of chest, all rippling, gleaming muscle. The scent of the shore hit her immediately, his origins evidenced by the seaweed and shells tangled in his long mane. The only tack he wore was a short saddle pad cinched in place. As Ana had said, there was an otherness to the creature, in the way the crimson eyes appraised her, like human male eyes. When he shifted, she noticed the hooves sparked against the ground, magic escaping from the simple movement.

Everything she knew about magical creatures said she was looking at a kelpie, a creature rumored to shift into a human form to seduce a woman onto his back. Or it could stay in horse form and coax children up there, only to gallop into a body of water and drown them. Hopefully those were vicious rumors put out by anti-kelpie hate groups.

Mikhael’s eyes coursed over her. He lingered over thigh and hip, enjoyed an especially long pause on her breasts, then moved up to her throat and face. “Turn,” he said.

He was so good at those one-word commands, the ones that made her pulse trip. She gave him an arch look and pivoted, shifting her hips to good effect as she came back around.

“Are you wearing anything under those jeans?”

“A lace thong,” she said. “Denim seams chafe.”

“You don’t dress like you want to go to town,” he noted. “In fact, I’m thinking of at least ten things that could keep us right here.”

“I’m sure most of them are illegal, and you know I strive to be a law-abiding citizen. Besides, these are my going-out clothes. Are you backing out?” The thought was disappointing, almost crushingly so. She wanted to go to town with a lover, flirt and play with him. He’d all but promised, and if she had to get petulant about it, she would.

“Mmm.” There was a glint in his eye. “I might have to expand the scope of my spell to cover the things I’ll be tempted to do to you in public.”

“Think you’re a powerful enough sorcerer for that?”

“If I wanted to fuck you senseless on the steps of town hall, the good citizens would be none the wiser. Is that powerful enough for you?” That glint became even more devilish. “Of course, knowing you, you wouldn’t mind them catching a glimpse.”

She tsked at him. “A gentleman caller doesn’t use bad language around a lady.”

“No one has ever called me a gentleman. And if we’re going to work on manners, I think we’ll start on yours.” He glanced at the horse. “This is Atlas. Since he’s a kelpie, part of your whole energy-sucking clan, your blood won’t upset him.”

The creature snorted, gave her that appraising look again, only this time Mikhael made a noise, an unmistakable warning. It set off a strange fluttering in her chest to see Mikhael staking his territory against another male. One would think being used as a demon’s sex slave during her formative years, turning tricks and then running a bordello would have completely stamped out her romantic side. But she loved Titanic as much as ever.

This was just a day with a casual lover, she reminded herself. But so far it was a really good day. “Aren’t kelpies the ones who drown people?”

“He has the day off from that.” Taking a handful of mane, Mikhael swung on in one lithe move. “And he owed me a favor.”

Atlas gave a snort as if that was only a partial truth, and lifted his feet off the ground, cutting a circle that lashed Mikhael’s leg with his tail. It was a pretty display, but also a fairly intimidating one. However, Raina had never backed away from an intimidating male in her life. She wasn’t going to start now. When Mikhael extended his hand, she approached without hesitation. The warm approval in his eyes made her feel ridiculously pleased.

As Mikhael lifted her up, settling her on his lap, the smell of the ocean became even stronger. She wondered if she would hear its song if she laid her head against Atlas’s neck, like listening to a conch shell.

“I admit it,” she said. “I’m impressed. Even better than the Ferrari.”

“This is the Ferrari, with attitude.”

“You seem to like attitude,” she teased, sliding her arm beneath his to curve it around his back and hold on. The other hand she placed on his, curled in Atlas’s mane. The seaweed and shells were wet. Interesting.

“So it would seem.” Putting his other arm around her waist, he secured her close to him. “He likes to start out with a bang, but he’ll slow down after he feels like he’s awed you enough. I won’t let you fall.”

“Of course you won’t.” She drank in the energy. For all intents and purposes, she was on a horse. “Can we run? I want to see what it’s like to gallop.”

Mikhael gave her an intent look, eyes showing his deep pleasure at her enthusiasm. She needed to carry oxygen when he was around.

“You heard the lady, Atlas. Show her what it’s like to ride the wind.”

ATLAS TOOK OFF, A HAZE OF SPARKS SHOWERING OFF his mane and those sparks jetting from under his hooves, licking her ankles with the after burn. He moved down her drive like nothing in the world could stop him. Mikhael held his seat with strong thighs and kept her close, so she relaxed and moved with the motions of his body and the horse. She let her head fall against his chest, turning her face to the wind. Trusting him, she let go of the mane and his arm, reaching out to it with both hands.

For a moment, she knew just how Rose felt on the prow of Titanic.

She laughed into that wind, felt it blow through her clothes, caress her skin. The roar of its passing, the thunder of Atlas’s hooves, Mikhael’s breath against her temple, it was a rushing symphony and she wanted to twirl in it like a butterfly. When Mikhael called to Atlas to ease up, and they moved into a canter, then a trot, she was grinning like a fool.

“That was incredible,” she said. “Can I…Is he okay with being stroked?”

“Most males are.”

She made a face at him, aware he was looking at her like a creature he’d never seen before, but she didn’t care. Her hair was probably a tangled thicket, and her shirt now had horse hair on it. It didn’t matter a bit. She stroked her fingers along Atlas’s neck. “Thank you. That was marvelous.”

He snorted, sidled into a prancing strut. She bit back a smile. The male animal was always the same, no matter the species. “He obviously speaks our language.”

“Kelpies understand all languages, regardless of the origins. Don’t know where they got that ability, but they probably pleased a Fae queen somewhere along the line and she gave them that gift. Or it was part of a curse. Fae like to do that. Give a gift that comes with a high cost. They’re masters at the balance game themselves, though they’re a bit more capricious about it.”

“Is he coming into town with us? You’ll really have to expand your shield on us then.” She tugged on the mane, teasing the kelpie, such that he did some more sidling to delight her.

Mikhael snorted. “Pull my hair, see where it gets you.”

She made a grab to do just that and he caught her arm, twisting it behind her back. He did it gently, but with enough strength that it arched her up to him. Taking a biting kiss of her lips, he teased her mouth, stroking her tongue with his until her body quivered. “You’re irresistible,” he said.

She told herself he was a charming lover, but Mikhael wasn’t charming at all. He was honest, which had an appeal all its own. So she touched his face, not sure how to respond. Her, a madam who’d received slews of suggestive compliments.

“He’ll drop us off just outside town,” Mikhael answered her question. “You’ll have to make do with my boring Ferrari for the remainder of the trip. It’s not wise to get a kelpie around lots of humans. They start looking like dinner.”

“He can eat the librarian. Ramona says she’s mean. Though, in all fairness, every time Ramona goes in there, an entire stack gets knocked over, or all the books get reshelved in the order of Ramona’s preference instead of by the library’s system.”

“Noted.” His arm was still around her waist, the other hand on Atlas’s mane as the kelpie moved in a reasonably sedate walk. Now that they’d emerged from the woods surrounding her place, they were enjoying the winding road to town, most of which was surrounded by protected marshland. Beyond its expanse, she could see the waterway and the lighthouse on the nearby barrier islands. She liked the open-space look of it. Sometimes she walked this far, within distance of town but not actually there, melting back into the trees for the occasional motorist. Though the road was quiet now, Atlas stayed in the grass right-of-way, preferring the natural road to the paved one.