Gale Season

Chapter Two

Alandra swallowed loudly and tried to break eye contact the minute she saw Arim’s fathomless gaze trying to pierce the illusion she’d so carefully crafted.

“I’m, ah, sorry. I don’t believe we’ve met?” She mentally curled in on herself as he stepped closer, trying to hide her magic under a blanket of Seattle’s mundane reality.

Fortunately, she didn’t have to feign the fear he surely sensed. Good night, but he was an impressive sorcerer. He fairly dripped with dark, menacing energy. Like most sorcerers from his world, he’d been taught from an early age to revere his power, exalting himself above those with little magic. Similar to the Dark Lords, many of the Light Bringers thought themselves better than those outside of Tanselm.

Considering what she knew of Arim the Sorcerer, she figured he would view tricks and spells against the Trudy Warners of this world not worth his time. With his obvious arrogance a factor, he would no doubt think her too much a xiantope—a being without magic—to be much of a threat, so long as he accepted her Trudy Warner act.

“No, we haven’t met.” He forced her to move back as he advanced. “Now what exactly did my nephew want with you?”

She felt a subtle mental pull and blinked at him in surprise. It took all her will to protect herself from his penetration spell. Having to hide from her people for a year had given her a lot of practice in living incognito, and she finally had a decent reason to thank her annoying aunt for forcing her to flee.

Straining under Arim’s fierce magic, she blanched but managed to look anxious at his nearness. Unfortunately, he looked less than pleased with her nervousness.

“Aerolus didn’t want much.” She tried a small smile. “Look, Mister…?” He didn’t fill in his name, and she sensed he wasn’t buying her version of Trudy. Shit. Time for a diversion. “I told him about the woman hanging around your house, and he—”

“What woman?”

Arim looked ready to bite her in half, and his tone was clearly superior, demanding her immediate response. His manner made her think of the noble Aellei, and she inwardly bristled. Even as she formed the words, she called herself five kinds of stupid. But then, she’d never known when to back down, hence her sojourn to this realm.

“Excuse me.” She glared loftily up at him and assumed Trudy’s best professorial tone. “But I don’t recall inviting you in here. Just who the hell are you?”

Arim didn’t blink, but she could see a subtle tightening of his brow, a telling reaction that in Aerolus signalled puzzlement. Studying the sorcerer, Alandra noted the many similarities between uncle and nephew and wondered if all Storm Lords had that same arrogance, and that same potent, sexual allure.

“My name is Arim,” he bit icily. “Now, about that woman you mentioned?”

He withdrew his spell, and she could almost hear him debating whether to pry it from her psychically, making her wonder about his people. In Aelle, when a body threatened the royal family, as occurred on a daily basis, the order was action first, questions second. Apparently, the Storm Lords had a better grasp of the intelligent way to ferret information.

It took way too much effort to make the dead speak.

Arim’s gaze began to burn. Alandra hastily focused and told him what she’d told Aerolus, sensing she’d worn his patience thin.

As she’d planned, her description of herself set him on edge.

“You say she had a glow to her skin, white hair and violet eyes?”

“Yes.”

“How could you tell her eye colour from here?”

She flushed. “I have a telescope I use for star watching. It must have been pointed at your nephew’s house the other day.”

“I see.” He eyed her up and down, and she sensed he did indeed see. Thank the shadows for Trudy’s physical mantle of desperation. “I should be grateful you have an appreciation for heavenly bodies.”

Though he spoke plainly, his words dripped with sarcasm. And despite the danger of the situation, her Aellei blood clamoured for some fun while pushing him into leaving. “You know,” she said with a slow, hungry smile, one that had his face clearing of all expression. “You could thank me over a light dinner, and perhaps, some wine?”

He simply stared, and she could tell she’d discomfited him.

“Actually, I have to get back.”

“What’s your rush, Arim?” She blinked and pouted, and he took an actual step back.

“Why not stay a little longer,” she paused and stroked the upper slope of her breast suggestively. “Make it a real date, and I’ll cook you breakfast tomorrow,” she teased.

“I’m sorry to have taken your time, Professor.”

She tried to look forlorn, but wanted to laugh when she felt a large mental shove to forget all about him.

“I’m sorry, but what was I saying? Ah, I forget your name.”

He shook his head. “I was never here.”

He vanished in the blink of an eye, and had she been of this world, she surely would have forgotten all about Arim the Light Bringer. As it was, her kind loved Dark magic, and the anger burning brightly in Arim tainted his energy just enough to empower Alandra.

Brimming with good cheer, that she’d managed to fool the powerful sorcerer and that she’d soon be returning to the shadows in the spaces between, Alandra shimmered back into herself and left Trudy’s house.

The minute she entered the pocket of space between worlds, she felt Aerolus’ draw. She’d left him a subtle trail—one only he would be able to see—weeks ago, having assumed they’d have met again before now.

Sensing tendrils of elemental magic, Alandra nodded grimly and sought the source of her frustrating desire.

She entered the small, floating structure that served as her temporary home. Made of an alien rock, one that both protected and contained her magic, the cottage felt more like a small part of a larger estate, much like the tower room she’d left in Aelle. In this place she’d gathered enough odds and ends to remain comfortable, if not content.

A large bed, a small desk, and a table and odd chairs sat in various spaces in her open living area. One aspect of this new home pleased her tremendously. Light never seemed to go very far in the between, and the glorious darkness was filled with the untapped potential of great magic.

Untapped potential, she thought, searching for her reason behind this visit. There, in the richness of shadow and surrounded by her powerful protective energies, waited Aerolus Storm. He sat at her desk, studying the hastily ‘borrowed’ scrolls she’d recently added to her growing collection.

“Well, well, well,” she murmured as she set foot on the smooth patch of carpet that served as the flooring in her comfortable shelter. “Aerolus Storm, as I live and breathe.”

He glanced up from her desk, a pinch of annoyance barely visible on his exotic face. His eyes glowed bright silver, and as if she were back looking through the telescope, Alandra felt the heat of lust sear her soul as she stared at him.

“The woman in white,” he said softly, rising to a height that easily surpassed hers. “It’s time I stopped avoiding you, hmm?”

Hearing him admit his avoidance annoyed her. “Yes. It’s time we talked, Wind Mage.”

“My name is Aerolus, which you already know.” He circled her desk and approached until he stood a few feet away. The fact that he towered over her irritated her further.

“By what name are you called, purie?”

Purie. Little one. She scowled. “I’m no child.”

“I can see that,” he murmured.

“And I’ve been waiting for quite some time. Have you any idea what kind of trouble you’re in?”

He shook his head and stepped closer. “We’re always in trouble.”

“I’m sure you are.” She sniffed, wanting to be appeased. “I’d like to know why it took you so long to find me.” She crossed her arms, waiting.

He simply stared at her, studying her like an intriguing species he’d recently discovered. She wanted to throw something, stamp her foot, scream in frustration, but knew she’d only look childish—the last thing she wanted to appear if she were to hold the upper hand.

For the past year she’d watched Aerolus and knew his many moods. Right now, if they were back in Seattle, she had no doubt he’d do his best to pin her under a microscope for dissection. What a wonderful way to establish dominance, she thought with disgust.

“You’re here,” he said bluntly, his voice a raspy seduction in itself, one she had to force herself to ignore. “You’re real.”

She frowned. “Yes, I’m here, and I’m real. Honestly, Aerolus, I’ve been waiting a long time to have this discussion, and I still have doubts you’re worth the trouble.”

He was worth the trouble, and that was the problem. But what truly concerned her was her growing desire that showed no sign of abating. The way he looked at her made her heart race and her womb clench. Unfortunately, knowing Aerolus, he suffered not from lust, but from an overabundance of scholarly enthusiasm. The man had shown little to no interest in sex for an entire year, at least, until his performance this morning.

She flushed, hoping he credited her colouring with anger.

He stepped closer, no more than a few inches separating them. “You have no idea how much I wished I’d responded sooner.”

Aerolus stared at her hungrily. If she bit her lip one more time… She chewed the soft pink flesh in puzzlement, and he nearly growled with need.

“You asked for it,” he muttered before sampling what he’d been dying to taste for weeks.

Startled, she froze, and he had to work to relax her. The minute they touched, his body tightened, wanting her with every nerve ending he possessed. Damn she was hot, so small and fragile under his looming strength, but so sexually intoxicating she made him fevered with lust.

She smelled like wild iria, the elusive yet invaluable poppies that grew in Tanselm’s most prized valleys. The flowers were deadly if sampled without the proper spells, and despite the similarities of flower to woman, his mind blanked to all but her touch, ignoring the whisper of self-preservation that begged to be heard.

The roaring in his blood swelled, and he deepened the kiss, slipping past her soft lips to sample the sweetness of her mouth. Her tongue met his almost shyly, then demanded equal access, searing his soul with a hunger so intense it was a miracle they were both still vertical.

She shifted in his arms, pressing his needy cock with her belly as she did so. He groaned, unable to resist her. It was as if someone had cast a spell over him. He was thoroughly bewitched. As he stared down at her, he could see a light sheen of energy leaving her to twine around him, binding them. Instead of worrying about it, a sense of rightness engulfed him and made him that much harder.

“Aerolus, what--” she began breathlessly before he sealed her question with another kiss.

Unable to do more than experience his affai to the fullest, Aerolus intended for the first time in his life to let go of his intellect and allow the warrior within him free reign. Just once, he wanted to experience the passion and emotion a man felt when he mated with a woman like—hell. Much as he needed her delectable body, he refused to make love to his affai without knowing her name.

Trying to ignore his engorged cock that demanded satisfaction, he couldn’t help rubbing against her as he nibbled at her neck.

“Purie, I have to know your name.” He nipped at her pulse and slid his hands to her perfect breasts, groaning at how much he needed to come within her.

“My,” she paused as he pinched one nipple. “M-my name?”

He kissed her, persuading her with his body to answer and quickly. Continuing to fondle her breasts with one hand, he lowered his other to cup her hot mound, glorying in the wetness he felt seeping through the silk.

“My name,” she said again, gasping as he rubbed between her thighs, seeking the very core of her pleasure. “It’s Alandra,” she clutched at his arms, making him aware of how very slight she was in contrast to himself.

“And you need to, ah …” She looked dazed, disoriented as she focused on his mouth. “We really need to talk.” She licked her lips, her hands clenched around his arms.

“Later, Alandra,” he murmured and kissed the hollow of her ear, blowing softly into it, describing in detail just what he intended to do to her. He pushed her dress up her hips and feathered his fingers over her creamy white skin, seeking her bare flesh that was so responsive to his touch. He soon found what he’d been seeking between her legs, and he rubbed harder in response to her quickening breathing, the silk of her dress flowing over his arms like a streaming wind of pure, unadulterated sex.

Lord, but the feel of her was sheer heaven. Hot and wet, and so very, irresistibly erotic. Had the need not pressed him so much, he would have liked to taste her. But he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. A raging tornado of lust whipped through him, eroding his better sense the longer he touched her.

“We should stop,” she managed, her eyes closed, her head thrown back as she clutched as his forearms. “I need to—” She jerked, her body trembling, on the verge of climax.

Aerolus stared down at her, aware he’d never witnessed so beautiful a moment as this.

“Come for me, love,” he whispered before he kissed her and pressed hard against her clit.

She moaned into his mouth as she shuddered, her orgasm nearing, her quickening female energy a balm that both soothed and further aroused him.

Unable to stop, he ground his pelvis against her, thrusting his cock against her firm body. Impatient, he spelled his jeans open, unzipping his fly to grant her access. Grabbing one of her hands, he thrust it inside his pants, more grateful than words could say when her small hand clasped tightly around him and began pumping.

He thrust a finger inside her, then another, and feeling her slick walls closing around him as she came pushed him into a raging climax in mere moments.

He groaned as he spurted over her hand and against her belly, thrusting inside her with his fingers like he wanted to thrust with his cock.

Some time later, as he began to regain his bearings, he realised his was the heavy breathing in the otherwise silent room.

Alandra could only stare up at him, in awe of what she’d just experienced. Never, not once in her life, had she ever felt so consumed by another. The meaningless, pleasurable trysts with the oversexed males in Aelle had left her physically satisfied, for a brief time, but never mind-numbingly limp.

And to think she could have succumbed so easily, put up so little resistance to the man she’d been guarding for so long, made her feel all of three inches tall. Damn it, she was Aellei, a creature of magic, and one who should have felt both superior and mentally stronger than the male she’d protected. The male who even now remained buried inside her, having overridden any and all thought to deny him.

He slowly withdrew his hand from between her legs and righted himself, making her flush from the sudden desire that flared for more of him. Good night, but if he was that good with his fingers, she could only imagine how his large, pulsing shaft would feel inside her.

She bit her lip and tried to force the lascivious images from her mind. But the more she tried to ignore them, the harder the images hit her.

Passing a hand over her eyes in an attempt to stop the tide of lust building in her again, she surprised herself by feeling the one thing she’d never thought to feel. Regret. She deeply regretted the fact she’d been intimate with Aerolus Storm, when for months she’d relished the idea of finally sating herself with him.

One orgasm from the Storm Lord and she was turning into a splay-legged nymph. Much as she’d always disdained Shadren’s native fey, she could now understand their addiction to the base experience of uninhibited sex. Whereas she’d once been selective and sparing in her lovers, she couldn’t help wanting to glut herself with Aerolus Storm until she could no longer function.

A glance at him saw him staring at her with curiosity and a haze of hunger that made hers throb in response. Shadows, but he was more than dangerous. All her fantasies couldn’t come close to the potent reality of his unleashed sensuality.

The illusion of light in the chamber flickered, bringing with it the reality of where they were and why they were here. Worried that he could make her forget herself, for even a brief time, Alandra knew she needed to regroup and revise her strategy.

Clearing her throat, she pushed, shoved and wrangled her libido behind a wall of common sense and sobriety. Taking control of the meeting, as she should have from the beginning, she breathed deeply.

I am in charge. I am in control. I am Aellei.

“Aerolus Storm,” she said in a regal voice and nodded respectfully, completely disregarding their previous intimacy. “I am Alandra le Aelle, the woman who not only saved your life several nights past, but who has kept a close watch on you from the moment you stepped in this plane.”

He didn’t so much as blink, but a subtle tightening in his body told her she’d surprised him. He studied her, as if debating what to say. Hoping he would take his cue from her, she was more than glad when he focused on the true reason behind his visit, and not what they’d just shared.

“Why do the Aellei concern themselves with the Storm Lords?” he asked quietly.

Good question. Now how much to tell him? “Actually,” she paused and stepped back, managing not to grimace at the wetness between her thighs. Unfortunately, his silvery gaze positively gleamed as it darted towards her groin, making her clit throb with feeling. Damn it.

“What the Aellei do is not your concern.” Not yet. “For now, know we are weighing our decisions. Your fight with ‘Sin Garu grows, spreading like a disease throughout worlds.”

He nodded. “Obviously it has, or we wouldn’t have fought a Djinn and a Nocumat.” He crossed his arms and widened his stance, as if bracing for battle. “If I’m not mistaken, the Nocumat is Shadren, is it not?”

“Yes, he is.” With just that one question he subtly reminded her just how far apart their worlds really were. What he considered a monster, she considered a friend. Well, maybe not Oxcen, but his sister certainly.

“You controlled it—him—easily.”

“Actually, the threat of his mother controlled him.” She couldn’t help a satisfied smirk at Oxcen’s worry. The little creep. Maybe next time he’d think before offering to help a Dark Lord.

“I fail to see the humour in the situation.” Aerolus spoke softly but his body was rigid. “Oxcen nearly killed my brother.”

She waved away his anger. “A childish prank. Oxcen was only being himself. You want to blame someone for the River Prince’s near miss, blame the Dark Lord.”

“’Sin Garu.” He stared at her from that impressive height, his brows drawn in thought. “The Aellei fought alongside the Dark Lords in Tanselm.”

“A thousand years ago.”

“Together, nonetheless. Dark Lords and Shadren, and now Djinn and wraith as well.”

“Now hold on a minute.” She glared at him. “My people may have fought with the Dark Lords in the past, but a lot has changed since then. I don’t dispute that the Dark Lords grew tainted under too much raw magic.”

“And the Aellei and Djinn?” The hard, judging look in his eyes had passed, replaced with a tangible curiosity and interest in their shared history.

This Aerolus she knew very well, the scholar and sorcerer in training. She gave him an approving nod. “In our past, many cultures clashed, many worlds collided. What you Light Bringers failed to understand was that as a result of so much upheaval, the Dark Tribes split.”

“I know that, Alandra.” Her name on his lips made her blood tingle. “The Aellei vanished, rarely heard from anymore. However, your brethren, the Shadren, turned against all things Light, as did the Djinn and the wraiths.”

“Technically, you’re not talking about the wraiths, but the ice wraiths. And no, the Shadren didn’t turn against all things Light.” She walked uncomfortably towards a small cabinet in the corner of her sanctuary and removed a clean dress.

Without regard to Aerolus, she slipped easily out of her soiled clothes, murmured a spell to clean herself, and slid into a new white dress with a sigh. “That’s much better.” She turned to face him. The odd look on his face stopped her. Surely he wasn’t going to act funny about a little nudity, not after what they’d just shared? “What?”

He cleared his throat. “Nothing.”

“Where was I?” She strolled to her most comfortable chair, an overstuffed ball of nor seed covered in a soft, brown alien hide she’d found in Seattle. With a nod to the small ring of stones on the floor, she watched a green blaze appear, soothing as well as warming her tired mind and body.

Aerolus simply stared, lowering himself into a similar chair that suddenly appeared across the fire from her with a small wave of her hand. “Thank you,” he said courteously. Aerolus was never less than a gentleman, which made his earlier behaviour intriguing.

Stop that train of thought. Right now.

“You were talking about how I was wrong about the Shadren, and I suppose, the ice wraiths and Djinn?” he encouraged, as if talking to a child.

“Don’t patronise me, Aerolus.” She sighed, wanting to snuggle into her seat. She felt so relaxed, so at peace here under the warmth of Aellein fire, with him by her side. All the restless nights of the past few months, the lack of sleep, the large energy expenditures transporting between worlds, despite the Mir charm, they all seemed to come crashing down on her as she struggled to focus on the here and now.

Aerolus stared at her, his face inscrutable. Then he smiled, an honest, open expression of emotion that would have jolted her heart had she not reminded herself to remain detached.

Distance, I must remain polite, but distant. No more sex, and definitely no more shows of vulnerability in front of the Storm Lord.

“What?” she asked suspiciously as he continued to grin.

“Nothing. Just that purie seems even more fitting now. That chair fairly swallows you whole.”

She grimaced, once again feeling as if he’d somehow gotten the upper hand in a game she thought she was winning. “I’m going to forget you said that. Now do you want to know the truth about your supposed enemies or not?”

She yawned, awaiting his answer as she stared sleepily into the fire. When had she last slept? A few weeks ago? At least not since her interference with Oxcen and ‘Sin Garu.

Aerolus rumbled something, and she had to blink several times to put him in focus. Then she felt herself being lifted.

“No, no, purie, lie still.” Despite her plan to remain aloof, she couldn’t help curling into the warmth beneath her, the steady pounding of his heart more soothing than anything she’d experienced since being forced from her world.

“Shh,” he whispered. A soft stroke grazed her cheek. “Sleep, Alandra. I’ll be here when you wake.”

Hearing the truth in his words, she tangled her fist in the magic of his being and held tight, at peace as she hadn’t been for a very long time.