Dangerous Devotion Page 16

  “What the hell are you thinking?” Tristan asked, his voice full of amusement as he appeared in front of me.

  “Was . . . it . . . a Were?” I asked breathlessly as I struggled to sit up, mentally kicking myself for being so stupid and not checking first.

  Tristan helped me to a sitting position. “No. Only a kangaroo.”

  “Really? Are they always so rude?”

  “They’re wild animals so yeah, especially when they feel threatened. So don’t do that again. You’ll ruin my favorite face in the world. Look what you’ve done to it.” He knelt down in front of me and gingerly touched my nose and cheekbones. I flinched. Of course, I couldn’t look at it, but I could feel it—my nose and cheeks hurt like hell. I groaned. The blood flowing from my nose had already stopped, and I could feel the broken bones mending themselves, but I would have serious bruises for a day or two.

  Tristan lowered his mouth to my cheek and kissed across it, over my nose, and to my other cheek.

  “There’s no open wound. You can’t heal it with your saliva,” I pointed out.

  “Thought it might make you feel better, though.”

  It did, actually, eliminate the pain. My skin tingled rather than throbbed.

  “My lip is cut,” I whispered, and he moved his mouth to mine, his tongue running over my lips that had already healed.

  “Would you like to pick up where your dream left off?” he asked.

  I stiffened, staring at him. “You know what I was dreaming? Was I sharing it?”

  The idea of my dreams seeping out of my head and into someone else’s never crossed my mind. How mortifying!

  He chuckled. “No. Looks like I’m right, though.”

  “Are you sure? Even Vanessa said something about my dreams.”

  “Hmm . . .could be coincidence . . . but your sexy little moans and movements made it obvious to me.”

  I groaned. “How embarrassing.”

  He chuckled again and brushed his lips across mine. “I was personally enjoying it, my love. But the real thing would be better.”

  I sighed. “Sorry about last night . . .”

  “You can make it up to me.” He kissed across my cheeks again, opening his mouth, his healing powers taking away the pain and replacing it with bliss.

  “I will,” I promised.

  “Right now?” he whispered against my ear, sending goose bumps across my skin.

  I glanced around at our surroundings. Not a soul around, not even any animals. But it was dry and dusty, and the thought of that dusty sand making its way into certain places was not exactly romantic or sexy.

  “Hmm . . . follow me.” He took my hand and flashed.

  We appeared in a grassy area, surrounded by trees and the bank of a smooth pond in front of us. Its surface duplicated the trees and sky above so perfectly, it was difficult to tell where the real world ended and the reflection began.

  “Crocodiles?” I asked but I already knew the answer. The only mind signatures I sensed were birds and a couple of snakes in the distance. Like the night in the woods on the island, I jumped into Tristan’s arms and crushed my mouth against his. And pain shot through my face. I gasped. “Crap.”

  “Take it easy, my love.” He lowered me to my feet and took off his shirt, spreading it on the ground. He kissed along my collarbone as he undressed me, then lay me down on his shirt. His lips moved against my breasts, sending electric currents downward. “You’ve taken care of me all this time. Now I can finally take care of you.”

  I pushed my hands in his hair as his mouth caressed my breasts and his tongue flicked over the tips. He sucked, pulling my nipples erect between his teeth, making me moan and writhe. He moved his mouth along my stomach, kissing and sucking every inch. Electricity shot through my lower body as he continued moving down, his hands on my breasts, sliding along my sides and then underneath me, raising my pelvis. His tongue danced expertly against me, doing things that should be illegal, making me cry out. His mouth took me over that elusive edge and into oblivion.

  When the convulsions subsided, I pulled him up, then took him into my hand, stroking him as I guided him into me. He shuddered before he even entered. He looked down at me, his eyes sparkling, as he slid inside. I ran my hands over his chiseled chest and hard abs, around to the perfection in back, and then thrust my hips against him, pulling him into me at the same time. We both moaned and moved with urgency. It’d been way too long. We built up quickly and soared away together. There was no time for messing around, playing games with our powers, destroying whatever lay in our path. This time was relatively normal—except for a few bruises, of course.

  But they were nothing compared to—

  “Holy crap!” I stared at the water’s smooth surface, perfectly reflecting my battered face as I leaned over the edge of the bank. I looked like a damn raccoon, one large bruise creating a mask around my eyes and across my nose and upper cheeks. “How could you want to make love to this?”

  “I won’t acknowledge that idiotic question,” Tristan said, considering me. “But I have a one: Did it work? Your shield?”

  I had to think about it. “I don’t know. I don’t think so, but without anyone else around, I can’t tell.”

  “Hmm.” He shrugged it off. “Let’s clean off, and we’ll get moving again.”

  He led me into the water, and although the ripples distorted the reflection, it was still hard to see what hid underneath. I felt around with my feet, and finding nothing, I dipped down and immersed my shoulders. The water was cool and refreshing, especially since I hadn’t had a chance to shower this morning, thanks to Vanessa and Victor. Tristan was already out, buckling his pants, and I was splashing water against my face when I sensed the mind signature and saw the movement under the water at the same time. I hadn’t been paying enough attention.

  The eyes broke the surface first, and then the long, broad snout. As its head emerged, its mouth opened widely, exposing rows of teeth several inches long.

  “Waaaaah!” I screamed, punched its nose as hard as I could, and literally flew out of the water, clearing twenty-five feet over the bank before I landed behind Tristan. My fingernails dug into his arm as I peeked around him. The oversized, white crocodile sauntered out of the water, snapping its jaw. My superhuman strength didn’t slow it. “What the hell! What do we do?”

  “Shh . . . it’s okay. Can’t you tell?”

  Of course it was okay to him. He’d been fighting sharks and probably crocodiles and various other monsters for centuries.

  “Yeah! It’s a freakin’ Were! Do something already.”

  Tristan lifted his hand, but instead of attacking, the crocodile began transforming.

  Chapter 12

  “Please don’t,” the half-man/half-croc begged, the words distorted as he finished morphing. “It’s me—Jax.”

  Amadis! That’s what Tristan meant: he was asking if I could tell the were-croc was one of us.

  Jax and I both stood there naked, Tristan between us. Jax’s arms hung at his sides, completely relaxed, not at all embarrassed that I could see every bit of him. And there was a lot to see. Although quite a bit shorter than Tristan, he was otherwise large—everywhere—too over-muscled for my liking, but it was probably natural, his being part-crocodile and all. Scars ripped across his darkly tanned skin in several places, including his bald scalp. With my keen eyesight, I couldn’t see a strand of hair anywhere—not even eyelashes or . . . never mind.

  “G’day,” he greeted, a toothy grin crinkling a scar that cut from above his brow, down his eyelid, and to his cheekbone, though his brown eye looked undamaged. He saw me peeking at him from behind Tristan and winked at me.

  Tristan’s chest rumbled. He held his hand out to his side, and his shirt flew up from the ground. He pushed it back at me. It covered me better than the Amadis dress, but I still stayed behind Tristan and kept my eyes only on Jax’s face—I’d seen enough of the rest of him already.

  “Who are you, and why were you sne
aking up on me?” I demanded.

  “You’re a feisty little sheila, aren’t ya?” Jax rubbed his nose, smiled wider, and nodded toward Tristan. “I’m an old mate of his.”

  Tristan crossed his arms over his chest. “Hmph. Mate isn’t exactly the right word. Or did you forget who gave you that scar over your eye?”

  Jax laughed. “Naw, not forgotten.”

  “You must not have learned your lesson, then, sneaking up on us again. Or were you getting a little thrill from my wife?”

  Jax shrugged. “She is a bloody ripper. Cracked a fat, all right.”

  Tristan’s chest rumbled louder, and he leaned slightly forward. I didn’t understand what Jax meant, but apparently it wasn’t a compliment.

  “Just giving ya a compliment, mate,” Jax said.

  Okay, maybe a compliment, but derogatory.

  “Do you realize who she is?” Tristan growled.

  “Hmm . . . you said your missus, right? Why don’t you make introductions?”

  “Jax, this is Alexis.” That familiar steel undertone colored his voice, though on the surface it sounded polite. “Alexis Ames. As in Sophia’s daughter, Katerina’s granddaughter.”

  Understanding dawned on Jax’s face, and he grinned warmly again. “Ah. So that’s why you’re throwin’ such a wobbly. Didn’t mean to disrespect ya, Miss Alexis. I don’t get out among the Amadis much. So what brings ya out here to the bush?”

  Neither Tristan nor I answered at first. Suspicion waved off Tristan’s body, making me uneasy. Jax’s being Amadis no longer meant what it used to. I focused on his thoughts, ensuring Julia and her posse hadn’t sent him. He was mentally kicking himself all over for being “such an arse around royalty,” though a very basic man part of him was thinking about how hot I was, even with the raccoon face. I squeezed Tristan’s hand.

  “Just passing through,” Tristan finally said.

  “Where you going? I hope not west—you’ll end up in the never-never. You can’t flash your way to the west coast before dark.”

  All three of us automatically looked up. The sun hung in the western sky, not far from setting.

  “No worries about us,” Tristan said.

  “Probably not, but since you are Amadis Royalty, I’ll worry anyway. I don’t spend much time around them—not around anyone, really—but mates are mates. You can stay the night at my place. I don’t have much to offer, but it’s better than being out in the bush overnight.”

  “Are there Daemoni around?” I asked.

  “Naw. Haven’t seen them in donkey’s years. But that doesn’t mean it’s not dangerous out here at night.”

  I looked at Tristan, relying on his knowledge and experience, since I had none. He still looked suspicious. I probed Jax’s mind again, looking for any ulterior motive.

  He’s okay, I told Tristan after listening. A little lonely, wanting to do the right thing for us, but not dangerous.

  Tristan glanced sideways at me. I squeezed his hand again, and his shoulders relaxed.

  “We’re headed north to Kuckaroo,” he told Jax.

  “Hmm . . . you could make it before dark, if you know where you’re flashing and don’t show up in the middle of a dingo fight or a roo cave. It’s risky. Up to you. Offer’s there for you.”

  I shuddered at the thought of appearing in a kangaroo cave uninvited. I’d be admiring them from a distance from now on. Of course, we were just as likely to appear right next to a variety of unfriendly animals during the day, and realizing this, I found flashing our way through the Outback sounding less and less appealing.

  My desire to stay out of the great outdoors at night may have been irrational. After all, we could see just as well in the dark, and Jax said Daemoni hadn’t been around for ages. But somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I thought I remembered learning that Australia’s nocturnal animals outnumbered their day-loving cousins. I could probably easily defend myself—animals could be electrocuted—but that didn’t relieve the feeling of fear of the unknown. Especially after being pounded in the face by a kangaroo. Besides, a real bed was always a nice draw.

  I want to stay, Tristan. He narrowed his eyes at me. We’ll be okay. Whatever your past is with him, he wants to help now. Unless you want to hear me whining all night, because I won’t get an ounce of sleep out here.

  Tristan sighed and shook his head slowly. I could hear the reluctance in his thoughts. “Fine. Maybe we’ll learn something.”

  “Give us a minute, and we’ll go with you,” Tristan told Jax.

  Jax returned to the water, and when he was out of sight, I quickly removed Tristan’s shirt and put my own clothes on. When we reached the bank, Jax the person was gone, but the crocodile hovered under the water’s surface, only his eyes and a slice of forehead showing. He swung his large head to the right, motioning for us to follow him. Though the croc was still a bit frightening, even knowing it was Jax, I was glad he changed—he may not have been embarrassed by his nakedness, but I was. We followed the croc half-way around the pond to its feeder stream and up the stream to a tiny shack.

  Tristan and Jax caught fish from the stream, and we grilled it over a fire for dinner. It took a couple prods from Tristan to get Jax talking, but once he did, he chatted incessantly about his life in the bush. I didn’t have to listen to his thoughts—he told us everything and then some. He stayed in the bush because it made living easier as an Amadis Were; in other words, if he wasn’t around people, he wasn’t tempted to eat them. He was changed by a Daemoni were-croc that bit him when he was a teenager out in the bush by himself. A warlock, who we figured out to be Charlotte, converted him, and he lived in Kuckaroo for a while. But full moons made control difficult, and he eventually moved out on his own.

  He rarely saw people and preferred it that way. A female were-eagle visited him during new moons only, when he had the most control over his instinct to eat her. He’d learned to live entirely off the land, usually eating as a crocodile because it made the hunting easier, but when he needed supplies, he went to the nearest Norman town. He only visited Kuckaroo every few years. Except for the eagle, none of them came to visit him, and he hadn’t seen or sensed Daemoni since shortly after his own turning. He called the surrounding area within a two-hundred-kilometer range his home and knew it as well as he did his little one-room shack. He told us a handful of other Amadis Weres lived similarly in the Outback.

  He asked about my face, and Tristan shared the story of my brief encounter with the kangaroo. Jax laughed for several minutes. We told him we were on the run from Daemoni, but little else about our situation. Now that we’d reminded him, he said he remembered hearing some of our story—the reason for the Daemoni’s desire to have us, Tristan’s capture—but hadn’t heard about Tristan’s escape.

  “I don’t trust any authority, including the Amadis, but you two seem all right,” Jax said. “Anytime you’re in my part of the bush and need anything, just sing out and I’ll find ya.”

  “And your maker? Is he still around?” I asked, not particularly wanting to run into him.

  “You mean ‘she,’ and she’s dead. After I converted to Amadis, she attacked me, and we went into a death roll. She gave me a lot of these scars, and I gave her death. I’m the only one of my kind now. If I were on the registry of animals, I’d be labeled as extinct.”

  Jax divided a pile of hides and blankets into two, creating two beds—one for Tristan and me and one for himself—in front of the fireplace. I didn’t get a real bed, but it was still much better than being outside in the wilderness.

  “Sorry, princess, it’s the best I have,” Jax said with a wink.

  I told him it was fine. Tristan must have warmed to him during the evening—he didn’t growl this time at Jax’s wink. But he did put me on the opposite side from Jax, placing himself between us, and kept his arm tightly around me through the night.

  According to Tristan, by saying “Australia,” I’d sent us to both the best and worst place for our escape. Before meeting me,
Tristan spent nearly twenty years hiding from the Daemoni by blending into Norman society. He said the hard part was shaking them in the first place. It would be fairly easy by becoming lost and “vanishing” somewhere in the great Australian Outback. If we could give them the slip here, we could go just about anywhere, including the States. The problem with Australia, though, was getting off the continent—the few major airports would be watched, and we’d have Dorian with us, which meant no flashing or swimming. It wouldn’t have mattered, though. The only places within flashing or swimming distance would be watched, too.

  At the moment, I understood what he meant about becoming lost in the bush. We left Jax’s shack at first light, flashing north toward Kuckaroo, and supposedly we were somewhere close. But we couldn’t find it. We walked and walked and walked . . . and walked some more. We probably walked right by it, around it, possibly through it, for all I knew, but they kept a heavy shield and cloak over it.

  “You would think other Amadis could see it or at least have some way to detect it,” I complained after we’d been searching for the village for nearly two hours in the blazing sun. It was early winter Down Under, but an unusual warm spell brought summer heat, especially the farther north we traveled.

  “We should be able to sense it, but they’re probably on high alert after the attacks. And they must have a powerful warlock or two to create a shield this heavy. You’re sure you can’t pick anything up?”

  “No. I already said I couldn’t.” I didn’t mean for it to come out so harshly, but I was hot and dirty and tired of walking aimlessly, searching for the invisible. We may as well have been searching for the lost city of Atlantis in the middle of the Mohave. Our bodies adjusted to extreme temperatures, but within the last several minutes the heat became increasingly annoying, pushing down on us, creating a thrum in my head. Besides, it was the fourth time he’d asked me about mind signatures in the last fifteen minutes, and his own tone was full of impatience. “Are you sure you can’t get a cell signal?”