Moon: Dragon Moon Part 9

MILES away, Ramsay Gallagher was about to step through the doorway of his office when he felt a jolt of pain in his head. His vision wavered, and he had to grab the doorjamb to stay on his feet.

For a long moment he stood in the doorway, fighting the sudden stab of disorientation that was so different from anything he had ever experienced in his long life.

The feeling of disconnection and the pain were real, yet he couldnat relate to them in any normal way. Iron bands kept him from drawing air into his lungs, and sweat broke out on his forehead and the back of his neck.

Finally, as the pain began to ease, he drew in a full breath.

When he felt as though he could let go of the woodwork, he swiped his hand across his forehead and staggered to his desk chair, gripping the leather arms as he struggled to ground himself to reality.

He didnat know what had just happened, and he didnat like it. But he had always had a great deal of self-awareness, and he catalogued the sensations that had struck him.

The sudden pain in his head. The constriction of his chest. The cold sweat. The fuzzy sensation in his brain.

They had all struck at once, and he couldnat recall a similar incident in his long life.

He had fought long and hard to protect himself from harm. Was he dying after all these years?

What had he done recently that could have triggered this sudden attack? Nothing, he a.s.sured himself, until he remembered the ceremony a few days ago, when he had let his mind drift where it might and found the woman who had been caught in the storm, then trapped by the great tree.

A ripple of alarm went through him. Did she have powers he hadnat guessed at? Had she done this to him? Or were the two of them caught in something that neither of them understood?

He had thought he should try to find her. It had stopped being a choice. He must do it.

But first, he needed to get himself back to normal. After several deep breaths, he walked to the front door of the chalet, then out into the afternoon suns.h.i.+ne, dragging in a draft of the clean mountain air. A herd of deer was grazing in a sheltered meadow nearby. Although he couldnat see them, he knew where to find them, and he started through the pine forest, humming softly, telling them that he was coming.

WITH a terrible effort, Kenna managed to get out one word, aStay.a aOkay,a he murmured, his hand closing around hers. She felt her fingers twitch, but she couldnat grasp him.

She didnat know how long the awful spell lasted. But after a time, the pain in her head eased. Somehow she found she could move enough to press his hand and gasp in air.

His total focus was on her, and when he saw she was a little better, a look of relief flooded his face. aKenna.a aI . . . Iam . . . fine,a she managed to say before her voice died out again.

Tenderly, he scooped her up in his arms as though she weighed no more than a child and carried her to the house. Closing her eyes, she rested her head against his broad shoulder, feeling him climb the two steps to the porch, open the door, and kick it closed behind him as he carried her down the hall to her bedroom.

After laying her down, he sat on the side of the bed, his face drawn with concern. aWhat happened?a She scrambled for an explanation, and a word popped into her head. aMigraine.a She hadnat even known what it meant until she said it. But the knowledge came with the unfamiliar syllables. It was a kind of serious headache that some people got.

His brow wrinkled. aBut youare better now?a aYes.a aDo you have medication for it?a aIt goes away by itself,a she whispered.

aI should take you to a doctor.a aNo!a A feeling of desperation welled inside her, and she didnat know if it came from her own mind, or if it had been triggered by Vandaras silent orders to her. But she knew she couldnat risk having a man with medical knowledge examining her. He might know she was lying, and he might find out her secrets. What if he could tell she was from another world?

aYouare . . .a aFine now,a she said, reaching for Talon, telling herself she had to distract him, but that was only parta"a small parta"of her reasoning.

When he stiffened, she tugged on his shoulders.

aTalon, please. Hold me.a As he hovered above her, the breath froze in her lungs. His face was taut, telling her that powerful forces warred inside him. She felt the same pull and push. But the pull was stronger. For her.

Was it stronger for him?

She searched his face, seeing the banked fire of desire in his eyes, certain that she had the key to breaking through his resolve.

She pulled him toward her, until she could feel his warm breath on her face. Then, finally, his lips touched hers, and she rejoiced at the emotion she felt surging between them.

The contact was heavenly, but she knew she needed more.

Opening her lips under his, she drank him ina"the subtle combination of scents and taste that were uniquely his.

It was clear that he had stopped resisting, and she pulled him down to the surface of the bed so that he sprawled half on top of her. As his body settled onto hers, she clasped him more tightly, captivated by the weight of hima"and by the way his hands roamed restlessly over her, moving from her shoulders to her ribs to her hips.

Boldly, her tongue met his to stroke and slide, the contact sending alternately hot then cold s.h.i.+vers over her skin.

aTalon,a she murmured into his mouth, getting it right this time, but she wasnat even sure he heard her, because the syllables were lost in the pressure of her lips against his.

When he lifted his head a few inches, her breath caught as she saw the way he was looking down at her.

Fire burned in the depth of his gaze, a fire that sank into her soul.

He wanted her. And she wanted him. Because he could drive the terrible thoughts from her mind.

No. It had started like that. Now she was swept into a whirlpool of pa.s.sion that threatened to drown her. But she wanted to drown in the pa.s.sion.

In this charged moment, she knew that the only important thing in either universe was what was happening between the two of them.

Struggling to hang on to that truth, she tugged on his shoulder again. Resisting the pull, he s.h.i.+fted her in his arms, easing her to the side so that they lay facing each other on the bed.

As her hands traveled over his face, his broad shoulders, the corded muscles of his arms, her heart raced, the beat frantic, as frantic as her need to get closer to him. As close as a woman could get to a man.

Reaching for the placket of his s.h.i.+rt, she began to open the b.u.t.tons, revealing the broad expanse of his chest. Without giving herself time to think, she swept the fabric aside, then plunged her fingers into the crinkly hair that fanned out across his chest. When her fingers slid over his flat nipples, he sighed his approval.

She wanted that same pleasure. Tossing away any pretense of propriety, she dragged his hands to the front of her s.h.i.+rt, cupping them around her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

He made a sound of pleasure, s.h.i.+fting his lower body against hers so that she could feel the pressure of his stiff rod against her thigh.

She knew about this. From whispered conversations at schoola"about how a manas thing got hard when he was ready for s.e.x.

In Breezewood, a decent woman must be married to get this close to a man. But she wasnat home, and the rules didnat apply. Certainly they didnat apply to a slave. Those rationalizations went through her head as she eased into a more intimate position so that his s.e.x was pressed to hers, with only scant layers of fabric separating their heated flesh.

aLord, Kennaa he groaned, his hips moving rhythmically against hers, his body like a furnace, heating her.

The hands at her breast stroked and pressed, skimming over her stiffened nipples, sending a quivering wave of need surging downward through her body.

aYouare not wearing a bra,a he said in a thick voice.

aIam sorry. I know Iam supposed to, but itas not comfortable.a He muttered something that was a cross between a laugh and a curse. Then he found the hem of her s.h.i.+rt and dragged it up, exposing her b.r.e.a.s.t.s to the cool air.

aBeautiful,a he murmured.

aAm I?a aDonat you know?a Lowering his head, he took her b.r.e.a.s.t.s in his hands, pressing his face between them.

aOh,a she gasped.

She ran her hands through his thick hair, heard his breath coming hard and fast. Like hers.

Nothing in her life had ever felt this good, this intimate. And even in her inexperience, she knew that there was only one way this encounter could end.

But when he lifted his head, the words he spoke astonished her.

aWe have to stop,a he said between gasps of air.

aWhy?a aBecause you just had a . . . migraine attack, and Iad be taking advantage of you now.a aYouare not! I . . . I started this.a He eased away, flipping to his back and lying with his body rigid and his eyes closed, breathing hard.

What if she s.h.i.+fted herself so that she was lying on top of him? Would that change his mind? Probably. But head given her a moment to think, and she knew he was right, at least for him. If she forced him into something that he thought was wrong, she would regret it.

So she lay beside him, struggling to hold back the hot tears forming at the backs of her eyes.

She ached to tell him the truth about herselfa"so much. But that wasnat an option.

aAfter you have a migraine, what do you do?a he asked.

Scrambling for an answer, she answered, aRest.a aOkay.a He made a dismissive sound. aI guess you donat want steak for dinner.a aWhat?a aI was going to grill steaks. Thatas what I was doing with the barbecue.a aIam . . . sorry I didnat understand.a aDonat worry about it.a As he spoke, he climbed off the bed.

She looked at the rigid set of his jaw, expecting him to say something else, but he exited the room, leaving her alone.

Her hands clenched as she lay staring after him. She might have pushed herself off the bed and followed, but she wasnat sure what she would say. Or do.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

TALON WALKED DOWN the hall, trying to will his heart to stop poundinga"and will away the trembling feeling in his arms and legs.

Christ!

One moment he had been comforting Kenna. In the next, he had been on the verge of making love to her, until a burst of sanity had swept over him.

He cursed again. He could be lying next to her, feeling totally content. Instead, his nerves were jumping. His feet carried him to the front door. Outside, he righted the barbeque grill, then used a shovel with a squared-off blade to scoop up the charcoal briquettes and dump them back into the grill. A few were still burning.

How had it tipped over? Had he caught one of the legs with his foot when head whirled around? He didnat think so. But maybe he hadnat felt it in the heat of the moment. Heat, yeah.

At dinner, he was going to tell Kenna about the upcoming canoe trip. Head still have to take care of that.

Back inside, he headed to his office. At the computer, he Googled amigrainea and scrolled through the symptoms, which included throbbing or pounding pain in one temple. Interestingly, the temple afflicted usually changed sides from one attack to the other.

Kenna had been in severe pain. That was certain. But the attack didnat match what he was reading about migraines. Take the duration, for example. These headaches usually lasted for four to seventy-two hours, which didnat exactly square with what had happened to Kenna. The pain had come on her suddenly, when shead been trying to tell him something.

What had she said? aI come from . . .a That was as far as shead gotten. Was the timing of the attack significant? Could it have something to do with her words? She wanted to tell him, but the pain stopped her.

But why?

Wis.h.i.+ng he could consult someone, he thought of his cousin Ross again. But his major problem wasnat something he wanted to talk about with another werewolf.

He was afraid he was bonding with Kenna, and there was nothing he could do about it. He wasnat going to fool himself. Even if head managed to climb out of her bed, it was just a matter of time.

It flashed through his mind that he could still send her away. As soon as that thought entered his brain, a terrible feeling of desolation followed.

That was as frightening as anything else. If he managed to tell her she had to leave, head only end up on a desperate search for her.

He started to get up from the computer, then stopped and clicked back from the migraine article to the Google screen, where he cleared away the subject query, hating himself for feeling the need to erase the evidence of his search. He didnat think Kenna knew how to use the computer, but he still wasnat taking any chances on her discovering that he was checking up on her.

In the hall, he listened for sounds from her room but heard none. Was she sleeping? Or was she lying low because she wanted to avoid him after what had happened?

Shead wanted to make love with him. There was no doubt in his mind about that, but as he thought back over the encounter, he sensed an inexperience beneath her pa.s.sion.

When head first encountered her, head wondered if shead run away because shead been abused. That was still a possibility because it could be true, even if she had no experience making love.

He cursed in frustration, thinking that he was fixated on the woman. Turning on his heel, he walked out of the house and toward a secluded circle of pine trees where he changed to wolf form and set off into the woods. He knew the run would feel good, but it wouldnat solve any of his problems.

ON the other side of the portal, Vandar sat very still, listening. Not with his ears, but with his mind. He had sensed something that disturbed him. His connection to the woman, Kenna, was much weaker than if shead been in his universe. But he could tell that she had tried to break away from his control. As head felt her rebellion, his anger flared to fearsome proportions.

How dare the little b.i.t.c.h!

She thought that because she was out of his sight, she could defy him. Instead, the wards that he had wrapped around her mind had held her fast, with pain mechanisms and images that were already firmly in place.

At least he hoped so.

If he had been in his dragon form, his anger would have set his office on fire. Since he was still in the guise of a man, he had only his hands to work destruction. He picked up a priceless gla.s.s vase from his desk and hurled it across the room, where it crashed against the wall. Next to it was a pottery pitcher that came from a city in ancient Greece. When he had destroyed that, too, he was able to get some control over his anger.

Should he call the woman back to this world now and drain her blood? That would give him a few moments of satisfaction as he watched her die and fed on her fear, but it wouldnat serve his primary goal. He still needed to collect information about the other universe, and if she was the best instrument for his purposes, she could live a while longer.

He thought back over the centuries he had lived among mankind. At first he hadnat known how different he was from them.

He rarely pulled out his earliest recollections. But he did it now, going back to what he knew of his beginnings. A man and a woman had found him abandoned on a mountainside. A small boy wandering through the scrubby vegetation, lost and crying.

Head had no memories of his own people, and no hint of what he might become.

Centuries later, head wondered if he came from another planet in the universe, a child born of aliens who had come to Earth long ago. That somehow head gotten lost, and theyad left without him. What kind of parents would have done that?

Head cursed them. But back in his childhood, head had no clue about his beginnings. He still didnat know anything for sure.

The human couple who found him had taken him to their humble home. Theyad fed him, clothed him, and treated him with a degree of kindness, but they had also made him work for his keep. Head subsisted on human food, which had given him a tenuous hold on life. But head managed to survive.

When he was about twelve in human years, the crops had failed, and the man and woman had been on the verge of starvation. With regret, they had sold him to a neighbor who wanted a slave.

That had been the worst period of his early life. Halendor, his new master, had worked him to exhaustion and beaten him when he could barely stagger up the hill with a load of sticks on his back. He had thought he was going to die.

Then had come the fateful day when his anger and frustration had flared up, and head lashed out in anger against his oppressor. He hadnat struck Halendor with his fist or with a weapon, but the man had fallen to the ground, convulsing in pain. The young slave had thought he was lucky that his master was dead. He hadnat known that he was the one responsible for the manas destruction. But as head watched Halendor lying on the ground, something had compelled him to kneel beside him. Head felt an unfamiliar sensation in his gums. Then head bent and sunk his teeth into the manas neck.