Calling the Wild Page 22

  When they returned to the truck, Moira windblown, Kiron panting, Moira took over driving.

  Kiron climbed in the cab, human once more, and rubbed his stomach.

  “When was the last time we had food?”

  “Hmm. At the museum?”

  “I need food. The least you could do is feed the captive.”

  “We did burn off a lot of energy.”

  Kiron leered at her, and, comical as his expression was, she still grew hot beneath his gaze. “I meant the part where we were running for our lives, you lecher.”

  “I am hardly a lecher.”

  “You’re a cradle robber.”

  “I am not.”

  “How old are you?”

  “We do not count the years as humans do.”

  “I bet you’re at least 10 years older than me.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it was rude to question a lady about her age?”

  “You want to have more kinky sex with magic-animated plants. I don’t think you’re a lady.”

  They teased each other all through Wyoming, raising more than a few eyebrows at the truck stop they had lunch in. Kiron took over the driving, fiddling with the side mirror as Moira watched, lips twitching. They laughed and talked while on I-80 into Utah. The sun passed overhead and started to fall as they chased it west. Moira took over once they hit I-15 for the last, long six-hour stretch.

  It was 1:00 a.m. by the time they pulled into Vegas, and Moira followed the signs to the airport, bribing the guy at long-term parking to let her park the oversized van there. Kiron was asleep in the passenger seat, and, feeling fanciful, she woke him with a kiss.

  His eyes didn’t flutter innocently, as a sleeping beauty’s should, and the way his hand crept up under shirt, shoving her bra aside and pinching her nipple, was far from a PG-13 fairytale.

  She grabbed his shirt, wanting to help strip him, but Kiron pushed her hands away. He wanted her, and he would take her. The glazed look in his eyes made her wonder if he was even fully awake, but half asleep he was a better lover than any other man she’d known.

  Insistent hands pulled at her pants, tugging them down to mid thigh, and when Kiron realized he couldn’t get them all the way off in the confined space of the cab, he flipped her over onto her belly, pulled her knees under her and thrust into her.

  Moira pressed her cheek against the cracked vinyl. He felt impossibly long and hard from this angle, and her half-clothed state made it feel deliciously dirty. He bent over her, hands fumbling under her shirt to grab her breasts, the only sound the slap of their bodies.

  The sound of her name, utter with sweet longing as he came inside her, sent her over the edge.

  Moira came back to Earth a few minutes later, flat on her belly in the cab, one leg bent oddly, Kiron’s heavy weight on her back. He pushed himself off, then redressed her, sliding her pants and underwear back over her ass, helping her turn over to fasten the front.

  Moira reached into her shirt to fix her bra, watching as he tucked himself back into his jeans. “Are you always like this when you wake up?”

  “Like what?”

  “Horny.”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.”

  Moira sat up and kissed him. Not being able to taste his kiss was the one downside to that position. She sat back and winced as she felt wetness seeping from her. A terrible though occurred to her.

  “Kiron, we haven’t been using protection.”

  “We talked about this, you can’t use a boundary spell on the car when it’s moving, air has to flow in and out.”

  “Not that kind of protection. I mean when we have sex.”

  He started at her, completely blank.

  “What if I’m pregnant?”

  His eyes dropped to her belly, and he reached out and smoothed a hand over her flat stomach.

  “You cannot be pregnant by me. Centaurs cannot mate with other creatures.”

  “Oh.” Moira turned and scrambled out of the van, stopping when she knew he couldn’t see her press her hand against a heart that felt as if it had just been broken.

  “Get a grip,” she told herself sternly, then went to the back of the van, unlocking and rolling the door up.

  Kiron appeared from around the side of the van. “Moira.”

  She climbed in, throwing open a trunk and rummaging around inside for some clothes.

  “Moira, listen to me.”

  “I am listening.”

  “Then look at me.”

  “I’m busy.”

  “Moira, many centaurs take partners who are not of our race, all I meant was that a child between us was not possible. The lack of a child does not mean we could not be mated.”

  “I’m not asking for that.”

  “But you’ve thought about it. Thought about what you will do, and who you will be with, after your quest is over.”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “I have,” he said quietly.

  “This is all assuming your high moral standard doesn’t force you to kill me at some point in the next few days.”

  “The last thing I want to do is hurt you, and killing you would kill a part of me, maybe the best part of me.”

  “But you would do it, if you have to.”

  “If you force me to.”

  “That’s what I thought.” Moira finished stuffing the bag she held and lifted out the lining of the trunk, pulling out her precious grimoires and putting them in another bag.

  She stripped off her clothes, not bothering to be modest in front of Kiron, and cleaned herself up as best she could before pulling on black slacks and a boob-hugging black knit scoop-neck shirt. There was a flirty pink ribbon around the waist of the shirt, just under her breasts, and Moira tied it in a jaunty bow before hopping out.

  Her emerald didn’t match, and while she normally wouldn’t have cared, Moira knew appearances were going to matter for the next few hours, and slipped it into her bra, wincing as the metal poked at the soft flesh of her breast.

  Kiron looked her up and down, then shifted to his centaur form. He grabbed the sword, which they’d stored in the back, and slung it across his back, before changing to human again.

  He wore black slacks and shoes with a tailored black button-down shirt. French cuffs were folded and held in place with discreet silver cufflinks. The sword was nowhere to be seen, absorbed into his magic along with his centaur form.

  As a finishing touch, he slipped the sunglasses in place to hide his eyes.

  Moira pressed her hands to her forehead, just at her hairline, and cast a glamour spell. Her skin slowly bleached, the dark gold turning pale rose and cream. She rubbed her fingers over her eyes, using shadow to minimize the effect of their odd shape. Next she ran her hands over her hair, turning it from black to strawberry blonde. Finally she changed her eyebrows.

  Done with her transformation she looked at Kiron. She didn’t want to care about his opinion, but she did.

  “You are beautiful, but I prefer you in your true form.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Is there a plan to get out of here?”

  “Yes.”

  Moira led them, on what turned out to be a twenty-minute hike, to the main section of the airport. Luckily her imitation patent leather flats had good padding. She’d slung her duffle bag across one shoulder, but Kiron took it from her.

  When they reached the airport Moira looked around, searching for a cab, but Kiron walked up to a uniformed limo driver. The sign in his hand said “S. Kattis”.

  “Hallo.”

  Moira nearly did a double-take at the thick accent Kiron affected. The driver looked up at him uncertainly, taking in his rich clothing, towering form, and shielding sunglasses.

  “Mr. Kattis?”

  Kiron nodded, then motioned Moira over with an autocratic wave of her hand. Not sure how to play it Moira dipped her head in greeting to the driver.

  “All right sir, right this way.
Did you, uh, have any luggage?”

  Kiron handed him the duffle bag, which was really Moira’s gym bag. The driver looked at it in disdain, then raised his head to look at Kiron. Moira, sensing probing questions, jumped in.

  “Our luggage was lost. Mr. Kattis bought a few necessities on our layover, but we have nothing else with us.”

  “I’m very sorry for that, ma’am. If there is anything we can do to help please let me know.”

  “You are too kind.”

  The driver took the duffle bag, leading them to the plush town car the real Mr. Kattis would never use. The driver opened the door, and Kiron motioned Moira to precede him into the car.

  Resting one hand on top of the car door, Moira looked at their driver. “Are you aware of our destination, sir?”

  “Yes, ma’am, you’re staying at the MGM.”

  “There has actually been a change. Mr. Kattis loves all things Egypt, and we will be staying at the Luxor.”

  “Yes, ma’am, very good.”

  Moira slid in, Kiron right behind her. The car pulled smoothly away from the airport. The partition was open between the driver’s compartment and the rear seat, and Moira tensed as the driver called in to let his company know he’d picked up the passengers. When he set down the phone, no problems detected, Moira relaxed. Leaning in her seat she found Kiron’s arm laying across the back, and turned her head, resting her cheek on his biceps.

  They couldn’t talk freely in the car, and so settled for making elaborate faces at each other. Moira crossed her eyes and stuck out the tip of her tongue, which surprised a laugh out of him.

  The partition slid silently up when Kiron leaned in to kiss her. They shared a long kiss, and then Kiron shifted so he leaned over her while she was flush to the seat. He broke the kiss, but kept his face close to hers so they could share a whispered conversation.

  “The Luxor?”

  “Yep.”

  “It is the fake Egyptian one?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “I will hate this,” he groused.

  “Probably.”

  “As long as we can have some real food.”

  “We’ll find some fast food, prices in the hotel will be too steep.”

  She couldn’t really see his expression, his face was too close to hers, but Moira felt him frown.

  “You have very little money.”

  “Yea. When I went on the run I sold everything I had, lied to the bank and took out a five thousand dollar student loan, that’s what I’ve been living on, there’s not that much left.”

  “I have some money, in a small bank in Greece.”

  “I don’t need your money.”

  “I would give it to you,” he said simply.

  His offer, his willingness to aid her, tightened Moira’s throat. “Thank you.”

  “We will win some more, this is a town for gambling, is it not?”

  “It is, but the odds are against us. Gambling favors the house.”

  “But we are not human, and have more tools at our disposal than the humans.”

  “It won’t work. A friend of mine told me that they have spells on the casinos.”

  “The owners are magic workers?”

  “Nope. She said they paid top dollar to have spells against magic use placed on the casinos. They don’t believe, but will do anything to protect their money.”

  “I doubt they’ve secured it against The Wild.”

  “We can’t risk it.”

  “We will see.”

  Moira dropped the subject, thoroughly distracted as Kiron kissed down her neck, across her collarbones and exposed cleavage.

  “I could take you here, in the back of this car.” Kiron tugged at her shirt, exposing the soft skin of her belly. “I could take you the way I did in the van. You liked that, didn’t you, liked being bent like that.”

  “Yes, yes.”

  Moira worked her hands inside his shirt, flicking his small flat nipples, testing their responsiveness. Kiron stilled above her, his great body looming over her, but allowed her to play.

  She ran her finger down the dent of his belly and then burrowed it in his bellybutton.

  “Moira,” he moaned.

  She was ready to have him, right here, with a driver on the other side of a piece of glass, but as her fingers went to the closure of his pants, the car slowed and stopped.

  Kiron groaned and dropped his head beside her. Moira giggled.

  “This is not funny.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “You don’t wear your arousal as obviously as a male does.” He sat back and pressed the heel of his hand against his crotch.

  Moira looked down at her extended nipples visible through her shirt, then at him, “Oh really?”

  The driver knocked politely on the door, waiting until Kiron reached over and opened it. Kiron climbed out and reached his hand in to assist Moira. Feeling rather glamorous, Moira laid her fingers in his, and climbed out one leg at a time.

  They were in the hotel’s ten-story sphinx porte-cochere. Liveried belly men waited attentively while deep red carpet invited them to enter the belly of the beast. Discreetly tipping the driver, who had been looking at Kiron expectantly after handing him the bag, Moira slipped her hand into Kiron’s.

  It was here, she could feel it, pulsing, like a beating heart, somewhere inside the massive black pyramid.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “You’re a good luck charm.”

  Kiron either ignored or didn’t hear her, lost as he was in the massive bathroom of their suite. Once they entered the hotel, Moira had walked confidently up to the counter, asking for Mr. Kattis’s room, then expressing deep outrage when they did not have his reservation. She figured it was good for getting them into a room, any room, and letting her put down cash in place of a card, but Kiron had upped the ante.

  When she first talked to the clerk, Kiron had been the poster child for ennui, playing the part of globe-trotting millionaire with a skill that made Moira wonder. When the clerk said he couldn’t find the reservation Kiron had started chattering at her in Greek. Moira pretended she knew what he was saying and made soothing noises at Kiron while begging the clerk to check again.

  The clerk, a pale young man, looked nervously at Kiron. Moira looked at Kiron, trying to see him through the young man’s eyes. Tall, fit, wealthy, but hiding his identity, he was clearly either a movie star, or an athlete.

  Inspired, Moira leaned forward and crooked her finger at the clerk.

  “You see, Mark, may I call you Mark? Thank you. You see, the team was supposed to book the room for him, under an alias.”

  “The team?”

  “Oh yes, they have someone who takes care of this. Between the lost luggage and this, I fear he is not having a good trip.”

  The clerk looked Kiron over once more, mistakenly believing he was being inconspicuous.

  “Soccer, I mean football?”

  “Oh yes, do you follow the European leagues?”

  “No.”

  Perfect.

  “This is his first trip to the U.S. Beckham’s move has everyone looking at the U.S. markets.”

  “He knows Beckham?”

  “Oh yes, the children are darlings.”

  After that, they’d been given a suite, with the hotel’s deepest apologies for the mix up. When they reached the room, a bellboy had bustled up behind them, handing them overnight care kits and offering his sympathies for their lost luggage.

  She doubted it would take them long to realize there was something wrong with the whole situation, but she hoped they’d be safe here for a few days. Pressing her hand against the doorframe Moira pushed her boundary spell into the wood. It was risky, because if the hotel staff tried to enter the room, but couldn’t, there might be questions. She was banking on them respecting the “Do Not Disturb” she’d hung on the knob.

  Moira flopped on the bed and groaned when she saw the clock on the mantelpiece over the fireplace.

  “
It’s three in the morning.”

  “What?”

  Kiron emerged from the bathroom, fiddling with the French cuffs of his shirt. Moira motioned him over, and when he sat on the edge of the bed beside her, unfastened each cuff.

  “First, I said that you are my good-luck charm, then I pointed out that it was three in the morning.”

  Kiron slid the glasses off, and Moira was shocked to see deep bags under his eyes.

  “We both need to sleep, then we need to eat,” he said, and Moira knew he must truly be exhausted to put sleep before food.

  “I’m sorry, I know your appetite is bigger than mine.”

  “I know forest animals that eat less than you,” he said with a weary smile.

  “But my ass looks good in jeans, so it’s worth it.”

  “I can’t believe you let the humans’ warped view of beauty influence you.”

  “I don’t have a warped image of beauty.”

  “Do you know what the humans have done to themselves in the name of beauty? In the early days…”

  Moira lay back, falling into the twilight space between sleeping and waking. She vaguely felt him pulling off her clothes, turning her so he could unhook her bra. The lights brightened and faded, tinted red by her eyelids. Neither sleep nor waking would come to her fully, until Kiron stretched out beside her, his long thick body hot and solid against her.

  Wrapped together, they slept.

  “I want room service.”

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “You worry too much.”

  “The last thing we need is the cops coming up here, asking who the hell we are. You don’t even have any ID.”

  “But they will bring the food right to us.”

  Moira gave up fighting with him, listening with half an ear as he ordered brunch/lunch. They’d finally gotten some sleep, waking up this morning at eleven. Moira slipped into a pair of jeans and the same black top from last night. She’d woken to find her glamour spells gone. She’d been so exhausted she hadn’t been able to hold them in her sleep. Remembering Kiron’s preferences she decided not to reactivate her glamour.

  Kiron had changed into his centaur form.